Lexi sees him everywhere.

He's in the slight tightening of her son's lips when he comes back from yet another long day at the school his mother had fought so hard to get him into, tears often sparkling fresh on his long lashes. Her beautiful boy. Even though Benny is nothing like her brother, she still sees slight resemblances sometimes, when Benny rarely loses his temper and will tell her in that quietly angry tone that he has adopted about all the things that he misses about home. After all, he and her brother had even been friends, back then. Varg, friends with a wizard halfling. What would happen next?

He's in the actions of the overly loud children she often sees running across the park, siblings bickering loudly, informing each other that they hate them in careless tones across the small playground. 'No you don't,' Lexi wanted to tell them seriously. 'You think hate is so easy, but it's not.' Sure, she and her brother had plotted against each other from time to time, tried to force each other from the throne, even betrayed each other to get power. That was the Nekross way, after all. But then, when it counted, she would always save him from the fury of their father or a fate in the jaws of the Skorpulus. They would tell each other that they hated them, but Lexi loved Varg, deep down. And, though you'd never catch her brother admitting it, he loved her too.

Sometimes, she even sees him in her own eyes when she forces them up to the mirror from their downcast expression at her feet, the familiar eyes that she's so used to seeing on his face: bearing expressions of fury, or frustration, or even care during those rare times when they're getting on. That familiar spark that she has always been able to find in his eyes when she needs it most still reawakes sometimes in her own eyes, when she stares deep into the mirror. It's a comfort that something of her own self still remains in her new body, altered in every other way.

At least she knows for sure that Tom will never relent in searching for her, trying to find her on his own planet. But she's worried that Varg - who, after all, has always despised humans - has already given up.

At least, if she knew that he had, she could stop this infuriating hope that continued to flicker dully in the back of her mind, even after the two years where she had convinced herself that of course he wasn't coming to find her now.

Two long years where at first she had been confident that Varg would scan for her until he found her again, that he would never let her go. At first it had been an adventure, where Lexi had been excited and confident that she had done enough research into the human world to pass off as one, and she felt positive that she could form a new life for her and her son. Of course, that initial impression soon faded, as Lexi discovered things that her research had never shown her about the world she now was forced to live in, the bills and the judgements and the constant fight that she had to maintain just to get her weary body up every morning, missing the unwavering blue lights of her ship ever more.

And despite this knowledge that she can never go back to how she used to be, even if sometimes she desperately wants to, Lexi still sees Varg everywhere.

Varg sees her everywhere.

She's in the locked doors of her darkened quarters, that Varg shut away from any eyes when she left. He is still forced to pass those doors on his patrols sometimes, and just the blackened window of the door is enough to make him turn away, furious with himself for allowing himself to remember her, even for an instant.

She's in the beauty and confidence of his new wife, even though Lyzera is so different to how his sister had been. It's a relief that she's different; Varg's not sure he could bear it if he was reminded of her every time Lyzera spoke. Lexi could be grumpy at times, or weak when it mattered most, or overly compassionate which had always been her downfall. Lyzera is none of these things. She's furious and strong and cruel, with less compassion than one of the blank-helmeted guards. It's easier to bear.

The worst thing is when he forgets and expects to see her march around a corner at any moment, proud and tall in her Nekross armour. He will hear a sharp laugh, or a derisive snort that she was so fond of making, especially in his direction, and he will spin, expecting to see her satisfied smile as she makes fun of the way he had reacted. "Surprised you, brother."

It's been two years and there's nothing. Of course, the wizard changed her DNA completely, changing her into something she wasn't, so why would Varg be able to trace her? He remembers firing the unlucky technician that first nervously told him that there was no way of finding her amongst seven billion other humans, not without her new basic DNA trace. Varg had refused to believe it at first, of course. Flown into a raging fury every time another person would tell him it was useless to search for her. Sunk into a deep depression when he had finally realised that they were right.

He still performs the Earth scans occasionally, even when he knows what result they will give him. Negative. Negative. Always negative. His sister effectively no longer exists. Sometimes he will stand for hours just standing staring at the surface of Earth, memorising the swirls of its surface and the broken jigsaw of its landmass, even when Lyzera comes and yells at him for hoping. She never met Lexi, and she can never understand how he misses her. They grew up together. Lexi was just always there, beside him. And now she's gone. Lyzera, an only child, with her royal selfishness to prove it, will never understand that.

But he still sees her everywhere.

AN) Here's me still reflecting on the sorrow that is Varg and Lexi after all this time. Hey ho. What a sad reflective one-shot.