You realize that Surge has just... lost her motivation?

She was screaming about destroying the world when she first got the Dynamo Cage, but at this point she's just being casual about fueling her power addiction. She doesn’t mention being “superior” to Sonic. She doesn’t mention Starline. Because it doesn’t matter to her anymore.

Her and Kit just hollowly stare at each other before confronting Sonic and Tails, in an utterly emotionally broken state. 

Look at them. They don't even want this. Any of this. They don't care about it at all.

Ian has literally said his view on this is that Surge can't let go of her hate, because it is literally her only identity. If she stands down in front of Sonic, if she gives up fighting him, she is an empty shell with no meaning and no purpose. And the same goes for Kit leaving Surge’s side. He is literally nothing without her.

At this point, their only motivation is spite. They just don't want Sonic to win.

And walking away, letting go, trying to find a new life, responding to what's happened to them in literally any healthy way, is what Sonic told them to do, ergo, it counts as Sonic winning.

After issue 56, regardless of Surge’s mental state, regardless of the fate of the Dynamo Cage, regardless of the status of the duo’s relationship, whichever way all this unfolds, I AM NOT GOING TO BE OKAY.

When Skies Are Grey

Have a Jas/Tristian fic that leans heavily into the ‘hurt’ part of hurt/comfort. I apologize in advance. :D Set early Varnhold Vanishing, so after the “Full of sunshine” conversation, but before, uh, *cough* the next conversation in the romance progression. (spoilers for the end of Varnhold Vanishing in the endnotes, jsyk)

                                                      ---

Jas had a love-hate relationship with watch duty. On the one hand, lots of time to think, and she could even daydream a little so long as she kept an eye on her surroundings. On the other there was a careful balance of awareness without drifting into paranoia she was still trying to nail down. Being ready for anything to happen while hoping nothing did. She could never get back to sleep after hours of that mindset. That was why she always claimed second watch. Well, that and it meant only having to put her armor back on once. 

None of her friends minded her preference, far as she knew; in fact, since she usually brought the same group with her, they’d all settled into favored roles. Hers just happened to be last watch. Which started in just a couple minutes. She’d almost overslept; lingering grey skies made things darker than they should be, even at night.

Jas checked the buckles for her breastplate one last time and ducked out of the tent to switch off with Tristian. True, she probably wouldn’t need it; this was a safer part of the barony, but she’d rather play it safe. Even the areas not plagued by highwaymen or something had wildlife, and the Stolen Lands seemed to breed everything big and dangerous.

When she caught sight of Tristian, he was perched on a rock, fingers idly toying with his holy symbol as he kept his gaze on the surrounding darkness beyond the banked campfire’s glow. She tried not to walk in complete silence, so as not to startle him, but she didn’t want to wake anyone up, either. Octavia and Ekun were both light sleepers. Apparently she hit the right balance; she didn’t hear anyone stir behind her, but Tristian turned to look at her as she reached him.

“Expecting trouble?” he asked with a small smile, the campfire’s dim light accentuating his cheekbones and throwing his eyes into shadow as he nodded at her breastplate and the mace strapped to her hip.

Jas shrugged. “It never hurts to be prepared,” she whispered back. “Anything exciting happen?”

Tristian shook his head. “Not so far. Do you want it to?”

“No, no,” she giggled, struggling to keep it quiet. “I prefer my excitement to be during daylight hours. And my choice.” Her hand came to rest on the mace’s hilt. “But sometimes you don’t get to pick, and I wanna be at least sort of prepared.” She rested her shield against the rock.

“A wise outlook.” Tristian nodded and stood. He tried to stifle a yawn and Jas smiled.

“Get some sleep,” she said softly, gesturing toward the shelter. “Need everyone well-rested so we can cover more ground-”

A branch broke somewhere in the nearby woods and she cut herself off as they both swiveled toward the sound. Nothing came of it and she shrugged as she reached up to pat his hand.

“Like I said,” Jas whispered, “get some rest. You look like you need it.” Not that she’d been staring intently at him enough to notice or anything. (She had.)

Tristian flashed her a very tired, very grateful, smile. “I would be lying to deny it. Goodnight, Jasiri.”

Desna save her, if her insides could stop doing a little flip whenever he said her name like that, that would be great. “G’night, Tristian. Sweet dreams.”

Something flickered in his eyes Jas couldn’t quite read in the low light before he nodded and headed for the tent with a murmur of thanks.

He hadn’t made it more than three steps when there was a thunderous crash and earsplitting screech from the woods, and a full-grown venomhydra came storming into view from among the trees. Not--Jas had just enough time to notice--the same direction as the earlier broken branch, which meant there might be more coming.

She freed her mace, scooped up her shield, and charged toward the hydra, bellowing a savage cry that was intended equally to rouse her sleeping companions and throw the monster off-kilter. It succeeded at both; the hydra was clearly not accustomed to small prey meeting it with such ferocity, and she could hear her friends scrambling for their equipment and weapons--not to mention Tristian’s footsteps not far behind her--even as she closed the distance.

Two of the heads snapped down at her, and Jas flung herself into a somersault to avoid them. She whispered a prayer for aid to Desna as she righted herself and slammed her mace into one clawed foot.

The hydra screeched in pain at both the impact and the snarls of lightning that sparked from the mace to singe its flesh. It jerked away and lashed at her with one of its heads again.

This time as she dodged, Jas heard the unmistakable sound of a blunt weapon striking scaled flesh, joined by Tristian’s voice rising in a prayer for Sarenrae’s blessing. Despite the danger, she felt a surge of relief, both knowing he had her back and because he always waited until everyone was ready to offer that prayer. Which meant both his goddess and their friends would be helping very shortly.

Indeed, even as the thought formed in her mind, Amiri came barreling past.  “Save some for me!” she hollered, grinning maniacally as her sword sliced deep into the hydra’s flank. Even as it yowled and recoiled, the barbarian swung her sword in a wide arc and sliced the lower jaw off one head.

The remaining heads bellowed yet louder as it was peppered with arrows, crossbow bolts, and a spray of acid. It recovered quickly, however, and slavering jaws snapped down toward both Jas and Amiri. Jas flung her shield up as she dodged backwards and felt the satisfying impact as it slammed into the hydra’s chin. She quickly twisted sideways and cracked her mace down on its snout. A snapped-off fang tinged against her shield before falling to the ground. 

Jas took the split-second’s respite as the head withdrew to dart a glance at her friends, confirm they were all okay. (She definitely wasn’t extra worried about Tristian, fighting with markedly less sleep than the rest of them, and how much that might slow down his reflexes.) Everyone seemed fine; Ekun and Jubilost had found a spot most of the way across their campsite that both kept them out of the hydra’s reach and gave the necessary range for their weapons, while Octavia was somewhat closer, where her spells could reach as well as her arrows. And Okbo was just joining the fray, his fangs sinking deep into the base of one sinewy neck.

Even as Jas returned her full attention to the venomhydra, two new heads came crowding out of the one Amiri had de-jawed moments earlier.

Well, that’s just unfair, she had time to think before one of the new heads darted down and latched on to her shoulder. She let out a sharp cry of pain even as she rammed the edge of her shield into the side of its head. Bone cracked and it squawked in an echo of her pain as it let go and reeled back. There was the soft weight of a hand on her left shoulder, the warm pulse of healing magic, and the throbbing wounds closed up before she even had time to worry about maintaining her grip on her mace.

“Thanks!” Jas said breathlessly, wishing she could spare half a second’s attention to shoot Tristian a grateful smile. But the hydra was pissed now, angry it hadn’t encountered an easy meal. And it was unwise to look away from a pissed-off monster, especially one with four heads. Verbal gratitude would have to be enough.

A crackling ray of ice lanced over her head, gouging a frost-edged wound down the hydra’s side. It shrieked and tried to bull forward after Octavia, but Jas and Amiri stood firm in its path to force it to deal with them first.

The head that had bitten Jas snaked toward her again, only for Amiri to whack it with the butt of her sword so hard it hit the ground, then stomp on it with enough force the already-compromised skull shattered under her weight.

“Take that, you fucking snake!” she gloated as the neck whipped back, almost knocking her over, destroyed head hanging limp.

That’s one way to do it... Jas smirked as she dodged the hydra’s attempt to stomp on her. Her dodge nearly ran her into Tristian, and she stumbled as she checked her momentum. He caught her arm to keep her upright. This time she spared a fraction of a second to smile her gratitude before throwing herself herself back into the fray.

The venomhydra had shaken off Okbo, leaving deep gashes down its chest, and Jas charged in close enough to slam her mace into the wounds with an eruption of ice and lightning that made the hydra reel. That sign of weakness increased her determination and she repeated the blow as a pair of arrows and a crossbow bolt sank into its neck. The hydra recoiled and swung at her with its tail. It went high and caught Amiri across the face instead

The barbarian grunted, spat out a tooth, and chopped off half of the tail when it swung at her again.

The hydra actually backed up a step. And then two. Another set of arrows lodged in the same neck as before and that head began to droop.

Yes. That change brought victory in sight. Not bad for a fight that had started with most of them asleep. When the head drooped low enough, Jas smashed her mace right between its beady eyes. With a horrible gargling sound, the head went limp, swaying with the hydra’s movement as it thrashed. We can do this, we can do this.

Her mental pep-talk was interrupted by a bellowing roar underscored with snapping branches.

“Oh, Desna, not another one,” Jas begged under her breath, wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand as she spun. Desna granted the request; it was not another hydra.

It was a manticore.

The downdraft from its wings bowled Octavia over and it landed practically on top of Ekun and Jubilost. Even as they scrambled for new positions, it backhanded Ekun hard enough to send him flying into a tree and its tail whipped toward Jubilost. He tripped as he dodged, turned it into a better than decent roll, but dropped his crossbow in the process.

The manticore let out an anticipatory snarl and without a backwards glance at the hydra(or Amiri and Tristian), Jas flung herself into a full charge toward the new threat looming over her friend. No, you don’t, you hairy bastard! “Get away!” she shrieked, cracking her mace into its jaw.

The snarl dissolved into a yowl of pain as the manticore’s head jerked sideways. It gave a low and dangerous growl and refocused with her as its target.

“Duck!” Jubilost snapped and Jas obliged without hesitation. The acid flask he lobbed caught the top of the manticore’s head and shattered, its contents spreading down the length of the beast’s back.

The manticore gave an almost human--deeply unsettling--scream and twisted away. Its jerky motions served only to spread the acid further and Jas wrinkled her nose in disgust(mingled with just a drop of pity) as she watched one of the leathery wings fall limp and flop off.

When it realized it couldn’t get rid of the acid, the enraged manticore swung back toward the two of them. It swiped at Jubilost, who had just gotten to his feet, and Jas swiftly moved in between. She swung her shield up just in time to block the blow. The move bought Jubilost time to reclaim his crossbow, and he fired a bolt from just beyond point blank into the monster’s eye.

It yowled and stumbled back as a pair of arrows from different directions lodged in its shoulder. Octavia and Ekun were on their feet again, albeit shakily in the latter case.

Jas swung her mace underhand into the manticore’s jaw as she glanced back toward the still-screeching hydra. Amiri and Okbo seemed to be handling it while Tristian offered support from just out of bite range, which was fine by her.

“Jas!” Jubilost barked, pulling her focus back in time to deflect a swing from the manticore’s tail. “Pay attention!”

She made a face at him and swiped away something wet that hit her cheek. Water, not blood or ichor. Oh, don’t tell me... More raindrops followed the first, increasing in frequency as the overcast sky that had threatened all of yesterday picked the absolute worst blasted moment to burst.

Octavia and Jubilost swore viciously in unison and Jas agreed with the sentiment even if she was too distracted to utter the words. This fight was hard enough in the dark and mostly caught off-guard. They didn’t need to add rain to the mix.

But the big fat drops continued to patter down, quickly soaking the ground as well as Jas and her group. She batted away another swipe from the manticore with her shield and wiped rainwater out of her eyes. Another shot from Ekun pierced where the beast’s neck and shoulder met. It roared and swung toward him, but Octavia hit it with a fire spell.

The reek of burning hair hung around them as the menticore gave a frenzied howl. It lunged toward Octavia, its tail knocking Jas and Jubilost aside. Jas hit the ground hard enough she heard something crack, and white hot pain flared through her hip. The manticore swung at Octavia, catching her shoulder. 

With a glance at her nearby friends, Jas decided things were dire enough to call for serious measures. She dropped her mace and knelt in the mud, clutching her holy symbol as she murmured a hasty but heartfelt prayer to Desna for healing--and watched Ekun stand straighter, Octavia’s wounds knit closed, and felt the pain in her hip diminish. She picked her mace back up and pushed to her feet, feeling the first tug of fatigue as she did. This fight was dragging on too long.

The incantation of a seldom-used but devastating spell spilled from her lips. She hated this one--it seemed cruel--but it was good to have for emergencies like this where she needed to finish something off fast. For half a second, nothing seemed to have happened. Then the manticore trembled and lurched a couple feet to the side.

It gave an anguished yowl and whirled to pounce on the pint-sized source of its pain. It moved so fast, Jas barely got her shield up in time to block the blow. Her stance was less steady than usual, and the top edge of her shield bobbled back under the hefty strike to hit her forehead. She stumbled and sat down hard, head swimming as blood trickled in her eye from the resulting gash. Nonono, get up!

“Jasiri!” 

The manticore’s glittering, furious eyes filmed over to milky white as it crouched for another attack.

‘Focus on your own monster!’ Several things happened in the molasses-slow moment Jas struggled to her feet and turned to holler the warning to Tristan.

The blinded manticore gambled on another enraged lunge toward her, only for an incredibly well-timed (or incredibly lucky) shot from Ekun to pierce just below its ear and out through the mouth. The corpse flopped to the ground and skidded to a halt less than a foot away from Jas.

The hydra, frustratingly resilient, tottered and let out a scream as Amiri cut off one of its legs. One of the battered but surviving heads drew back and lashed out--but not at her.

And with his attention still on Jas, Tristian didn’t notice in time to dodge.

Jas froze in horror, heartbeat loud in her ears as she felt the impact of iron jaws and foot long fangs as if they’d closed around her chest instead. The entire world seemed to halt for a minute as her focus was consumed by the pain that flickered sharply in his eyes before they started to go dim.

 Things stuttered back into motion as Okbo lunged, snarling, to sink his fangs into the hydra’s neck. A chunk of flesh tore free and the hydra keened angrily, releasing Tristian in the process. Jas’ heart skipped a beat--or several--as he crumpled.

No no no nonononono

Amiri belted out a cry of rage, using both hands to drive her sword into the hydra’s chest. Jas ignored her, and the cries from her other friends, as she finally found her voice--”Tristian!!”--and bolted across the campground battlefield as fast as the muddy terrain would allow. She knew there wasn’t likely much she could do, not after... that, but Dreamer save her, she couldn’t not try. And even knowing, it hurt clean down to her soul when she got close enough for her eyes to confirm the sick fear worming in her gut. 

She slipped just a few feet away, but didn’t even feel the impact, senses already going numb to shield her from what those huge horrible red stains against white robes meant. She crawled the remaining distance, mace and shield abandoned in her wake. She didn’t need them anymore; the hydra had collapsed when Amiri eviscerated its chest cavity.

Nobody could have survived that... “Tristian?” she sniffled nevertheless--one could almost call it a whimper--as she dashed water and blood from her eyes with one hand and reached toward his shoulder with the other.

He rolled limply toward her with only a slight nudge, half-lidded eyes dim and fixed on nothing. His holy symbol rested half in one palm, his fingers partially curled around it. Disconcertingly, he was still warm. No breath, no heartbeat under her frantic touch, but still warm as the day she’d leaned over his shoulder to peek at what he was reading.

“Your hands are so warm...”

Jas clapped a hand over her mouth in a futile attempt to catch the choked sob that boiled up her throat. No.

“Jas?” Octavia knelt next to her and rested a compassionate hand on her shoulder.

Jas jolted at the touch and her head snapped up to meet her friend’s gaze with wild eyes. “I need your pack. And Jubilost’s. Now!”

Octavia didn’t even pause long enough to ask the reason, just pushed to her feet and darted toward the shelter.

Instead, it was Jubilost who gave voice to curiosity. “What good will those do?”

She welcomed the distraction, even as desperation had her close to snapping the answer. “I don’t have any spells to help,” Jas explained shakily, reaching over the still form to rescue his holy symbol from the mud. It was warm, whether from his hand or Sarenrae’s power she couldn’t tell. Either way made her words falter. “Tris-Tristian does most of the healing...  An’ I-I can’t cast the one thing I do know that might help with... with this” --she cupped Tristian’s jaw with one hand, thumb caressing his cheek--”b’cause I’m still too spent from healin’ the group of us.”

Octavia returned with the requested packs, and Jas nodded her thanks as she unceremoniously upended them both.

Jubilost winced, but was kind enough to bite back any smart comments about the way she was treating his stuff. “I still haven’t heard how our packs--or, clearly, their contents--will help with that.”

Jas was already fumbling frantically through the pile of clothes, cosmetics, writing paraphernalia, and various other trinkets. “I don’t remember which one it’s in,” she said tautly. Please be here, please be here, tell me I didn’t sell it. “Ah!”  She tugged the scroll free of the gold necklace tangled around it and unrolled the parchment enough to skim the beginning before clutching it to her chest as her eyes fluttered closed in relief. “Oh, thank Desna,” she breathed.

She unfurled the scroll and held it open against Tristian’s chest with one hand, tamping down another wave of hysteria at how still he was.She could fix this, she could. Her free hand curled around both their holy symbols. Desna and Sarenrae were on good terms, and she was pretty sure she knew what to say to persuade both into helping her bring him back.

The angel and butterfly warmed in Jas’ grasp, increasing her confidence as a desperate prayer fell from her lips in a rush. “Dreamer help me revive one whose company has made my adventures infinitely more enjoyable, Dawnflower grant me aid restoring life to your beloved and faithful, whose presence brightens my... my life...” The glyphs scribed on the scroll started to glow gentle gold, making her hand tingle. “I’m not ready to lose him yet,” she whispered, her voice faltering as it sank barely audible. “Tristian, please come back...”

The scroll’s glow increased under her palm, light radiating between her fingers. It brightened for several seconds, until she was watching through squinting eyes, before the scroll disintegrated with a flash of light. In tandem, the holy symbols pulsed warmer in her hand, the heat spreading all the way up her arm and through her chest to the other arm.

And even as she blinked away the spots across her vision, Jas felt Tristian’s chest rise and fall.

Fresh tears, these of relief and gratitude, tracked through the mud and blood smearing her face. She slid her hand up to cradle his cheek again, felt his pulse thrumming as she did. “Tristian?”

He shifted, blinked to refocus his eyes as he opened them, and then frowned ever so slightly, his gaze fixed just above her eyes. “...You’re hurt...” He pushed himself semi-upright, swayed a little, and cupped the side of her face with a feather-light touch.

His hand was so warm... Jas’ eyes fluttered half-closed on instinct as he tenderly ran his thumb along the gash her shield had left in her forehead. It was a small enough thing--nasty as it surely looked--Jas’ forehead tingled with healing warmth and the skin knit back together.

“Thank you,” she murmured, breath catching in her throat as she pulled him into a hug. Several ragged, almost sobbing, breaths escaped her, muffled by his hair as she clung to him.

Tristian leaned into her, heedless of her muddy state, one hand braced against the ground as the other encircled her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

Jas gave a strangled sob and held him tighter. “Don’t scare me like that,” she mumbled, voice cracking.

He briefly matched her grip, then rubbed her back until she disengaged from the hug. “Thank you,” he said, lightly touching her tear-stained cheek.

Jas nodded, letting out a deep, shaky breath. “Of course. Oh!” She sniffled and wiped her nose on the one remaining clean patch of her sleeve. “Here.” She handed back his holy symbol, relishing the warmth of his hand around hers as he took it.

“Again, thank you,” Tristian said with a soft smile. He rubbed absently at his chest with his other hand, and her heart clenched at the bloodstains even if she knew the skin underneath was healed. “I should go... change. And then get some rest.”

“Both excellent ideas,” Jas agreed. Heartbeat finally slowing at the conviction he would be alright, she breathed a prayer of thanks to both goddesses as tension bled out of her shoulders. She glanced around to check on the others as Tristian stood and headed, shakily, for the shelter.

Jubilost and Octavia were still nearby, sorting through the mess Jas had made of their things and repacking their packs. Neither had made much progress, which made her suspect that whole conversation had had an audience. Amiri was busy cutting slabs of meat from the hydra carcass, and Okbo was sitting watch while Ekun skinned the manticore. It seemed sleep would be delayed for all of them. Which meant Jas had some time to clean up before her watch. They could sleep in, get a late start tomorrow.

When she looked back over, Octavia was watching her with a small smile pulling at her lips, holding out an old shirt. “I think you’re safe to go clean up, if that’s what you’re looking to do.”

It’s like you read my mind. Jas flashed a wobbly smile, stood on even wobblier feet, and took the shirt. “I won’t take long.”

Octavia shook her head. “Take as long as you need,” she said, giving Jas a significant look.

The wobbly smile widened and she nodded, the lump in her throat as she caught her friend’s meaning preempting actual thanks. She darted toward the nearby creek and made it through cleaning her hands and most of her face before the numbness of adrenaline wore off and emotions surged through.

It was, of course, when she got to the right side of her forehead and started cleaning off the blood where the wound had been. The skin beneath was flawless and smooth, as it it hadn’t been torn open by a heavy, curved piece of metal not ten minutes earlier. There wasn’t even a scar.

She wondered if Tristian had scars now. If resurrection healing worked the same as the more conventional kind. Were the results as complete if you were dead at the outset?

Dead. The weight of the word finally fully hit her, and Jas dropped the shirt and covered her face with her hands as the sobs followed full force.

Dead. Tristian had been dead. She’d lost him and only by the miracle of not selling a particular--highly valuable--scroll  had she gotten him back so quickly. She tried to focus on that part, the “gotten him back”, as the hysteria she’d held in check thundered through her. But her brain kept replaying that moment the hydra’s jaws closed around him, the way his eyes had flickered before going dim, and she could still feel the weight of his body on her lap.

There were bloodstains on her skirts. Jas sniffled and blinked away tears as she snatched the shirt-rag back up and soaked it in the creek before scrubbing at the stains until she could feel the damp soaking through to her legs. They only lightened fractionally. She might have to throw out this dress. Which sucked, because it was her third favorite thing to wear. But she couldn’t very well walk around in bloodstained clothes, this wasn’t Numeria. And she wouldn’t want the reminder-

She sniffled again, took and held a deep breath, counting to ten like Mama had taught her until she felt herself calm. She pressed the back of one hand to her mouth as a fresh wave threatened, and it did subside.

A throat cleared behind her as she dipped the shirt in the creek again. “Jas.”

“What, Jubilost?” she asked without turning around. She twisted the shirt to wring out excess water before cleaning off her breastplate. It needed to be polished again, but she could do that in the morning.

There was the rustle of fabric and she pictured him crossing his arms. “I can take the watch if you would like. I’m sure that fight was quite tiring-”

“I don’t need coddling, Jubilost,” Jas bristled. “And I’m not gonna fall asleep on watch, if that’s what you’re worried about. Way too much adrenaline for that.”

“I meant nothing of the sort,” Jubilost returned dryly, and she turned to raise a skeptical brow at him. “Doubt me if you like. You did a lot in that fight, most of it to protect me.”

“So this is, what, a gesture of gratitude?” The corners of her mouth twitched toward an actual smile as she teased, “That’s not like you.”

He rolled his eyes and coughed into a fist. “That, and reorganizing my pack is going to take a while.” He arched a brow at her. “I thought if I was to be up anyway, I might as well offer.”

It was a tempting offer, she had to admit, when looked at minus the emotional rawness that made her snap at him initially. She was tired under the adrenaline, and gods only knew how long that would keep her going. And sleeping would put her close enough to hear Tristian breathing, which would do wonders for her skittering nerves. But all told, Jas had to reluctantly shake her head. “I’d love to, but I’m pretty sure I couldn’t sleep if I tried; my dreams would likely be ugly things tonight.”

Jubilost nodded, lips twisting in what might have been a sympathetic smile. “I take your meaning. Keep a good eye out for monsters then, yes?”

She snorted, wringing muddy water out of the rag. “That goes without saying, I think. G’night, Jubilost.”

He nodded again, accepting the dismissal. “Goodnight, Jas.” He turned and headed back to the campsite, leaving her alone once more.

It only took a few minutes longer for Jas to be clean as she could get under the circumstances, and she made her way back toward the group as well. The hydra corpse was gone--where, she couldn’t tell and didn’t care to ask. Amiri and Octavia had returned to their bedrolls, and Jubilost was just following suit (apparently he’d decided pack organization could wait until tomorrow), leaving Ekun the only one still up, carefully at his task of skinning the manticore. 

Jas nodded at him, and received one in return as she took up a perch on the same rock Tristian had been using earlier. If she did crash hard from the adrenaline while she was out here, it was good to know there was back-up. But like she’d told Jubilost, she really didn’t see that happening. Between the adrenaline and the still-falling rain, not to mention the threatening bad dreams, sleep would not be a worry tonight. Whatever her love-hate relationship with watch duty, she was going to be wide awake for the duration of this one. Maybe by morning her racing heart would calm down. 

Not morning, a little voice chuckled. Whenever he wakes up and you finally believe he’s alright.

Jas couldn’t really argue that, didn’t even try. Instead she settled in to watch the surrounding shadows and protect what mattered most to her, fingers curled tight around her holy symbol so she was ready for anything.

Sleep definitely wasn’t a worry tonight.

---

I am so, so sorry, and yes, that physically hurt me to write. But I’ve had the idea circling a long time--based off some stuff that actually happened in-game, even--and when it finally started coming to me, I had to write it down. 

Especially because this incident does affect Jas’ views on everything that happens during the Vordakai fight and after. Of course it hurts more, of course losing him shakes her to her core, of course she’s desperate to follow/rescue him and takes him back easy as breathing. He took a huge risk and literally died trying to protect her at one point. Whatever he did for Nyrissa, Jas knows he cares about her more. (Hence the level in barbarian when she found out about the torture and manipulation etc etc. Girl was PISSED)

Suga Crush- Part 4 Angst/Fluff

Admin- SquishyMinMin

Summary- Having lost your bag you spend all night trying to find it, forgetting about Jin and ending up in Yoongi’s arms. 

You just couldn't believe it, you'd never lost your bag before, you kept everything you could possibly need in it and made sure that you were prepared for anything, that's one of the reasons you got this job in the first place. You ran frantically checking every bit of the stage, retracing all your steps the best you could but your bag was nowhere to be seen, it was almost as if it had saw you finally putting it down and ran away as a puppy would when their owner leaves the door open. In your panicked search you had completely forgotten about Jin’s confetti situation and were instead completely absorbed in finding your precious bag. If anyone knew what you were doing you would be fired immediately, the care of the boys was supposed to be your first priority but as your worst fear came to life you just couldn't help yourself. You'd been thought so much with that bag, it was always right where you needed it, holding exactly what you needed and now, poof, gone. To an outsider it may look like you were a total idiot having a breakdown about nothing, but to you it was everything, you had nightmares of being unprepared and that bag was your security blanket. 

You didn't know how long you'd been looking, time just merged together like a whirlwind as you checked every inch of the stage, even all the seats that the audience would soon take up. Having found nothing there you moved to searching frantically around backstage, ignoring people who were still fast walking around to help Jin as you hardly even registered there was a different, and slightly more pressing issue. Your tunnel vision was almost bringing you to tears having still found no sign of your precious bag despite looking everywhere it could be, you slid down against a wall nearby, your mind buzzing and not yet ready to face your defeat. That's when it hit you, what if another staff member had assumed your large back was equipment that needed to be moved back to the studio?? It was a crazy idea as your bag looked nothing like the bags everyone had spent the day hauling round, but you just had to check, you wouldn't rest until you'd searched everywhere you possibly could. As you left the venue that the boys’ concert was going to be held at in the days to come, you were hit by the cold night air as you threw the doors open, you shivered as you crossed your arms to your chest...your jacket was in your bag. Seoul was still brimming with activity even at night and as you hurriedly passed through people in the street you paid no heed to guessing what time it was based on the number of people filling the bars and clubs around you, you wanted to get your bag, and feel the relief wash over you as you held it in your arms and checked that everything you needed was still safe inside. The studio wasn't too far away, so with you practically running, you managed to reach the studio building within five minutes. You felt a small amount of relief when you threw the doors open and felt the warm air caress your cold skin, washing away the night from you and bringing some sort of comfort to your desperate sole. That of course didn't stop you from springing to action once more as you sprinted towards the storage rooms. You couldn't say you weren't a little devastated when you didn't immediately see your old shoulder bag lying in the middle of one of the many storage rooms, all of which you had turned upside down in desperation and to no avail. You only had one option now, one bleak and impossible chance at not bursting into tears, the actual studio rooms. You knew there's no way it could be there, but since it was nowhere else and that's the BTS studio rooms were the only other place you'd been today...it was the only reasonable place to go. You decided to start with the dance rooms, maybe someone had thought it was one of the boys bags? But when that failed you started storming into the producing rooms, not knocking or announcing yourself at all, you were past that. Fist you threw open the door to Hosek’s room, finding nothing but an empty chair and a turned off computer meaning that obviously he had gone home some time ago or hadn't been here at all today, but no bag meant you didn't care. Not bothering to shut the door you ran next to Namjoon’s room. You knew he'd probably been here at some point given how much he overworked himself but you threw his door open too, never ending if he was in there. Luckily for you there was no Namjoon, just an empty chair surrounded by sheets of music and lyrics, he had been here, but your bag hadn't. As you sprinted towards your last hope, the final place that your bag could possibly be, you felt your heartbeat in your ears and tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. In that moment it felt as if your whole life rested upon this moment, your future at the company, your mental well being and not crying in the BTS studio. Bursting through Yoongi’s studio door your eyes landed on the messy head just peeking over the top of the tall desk chair, your words caught in your throat as you gasped for air in the suspense. “Have you seen my bag?” You asked as you waited in the doorway, fully knowing that Yoongi was not your biggest fan in general, let alone if you stormed into his room while he worked, which you just had. “Your bag? You mean that sack your always carrying round?” Yoongi replied as he continued to work. Your heart sank, he hadn't seen it and all your hope was lost, you couldn't hold back anymore. You couldn't catch the first few hiccups that left your mouth as you started to sob, no matter how hard you were trying to quietly leave the room. Quickly you grabbed the door handle and moved to leave and close the door behind you, but you were stopped. “Wha? Y/N please don't cry…” you heard from behind you. Turning your head to look back at Yoongi you saw he had turned his chair and was standing up, halfway to you already...your shoulder bag in hand. “I have your bag, you left it on stage and I thought it would be funny if I took it since you love it so much.” he explained with wide, apologetic eyes. You only stared at him in disbelief. After you had lost all your hope, assumed the worst, he had had your bag the whole time. You were overwhelmed with relief, so much so that you didn't know what else to do as you surged forward and wrapped your arms around Yoongi. “Thank you Yoongi-ahh!” You sobbed out as you continued to let out all the stress you'd had today. Yoongi didn't really understand what was happening. He didn't want you to be crying, and he certainly wasn't expecting you to hug him. But as he looked down at you crying and clutching onto him, the initial shock faded. He couldn't help himself. He bought his arms up to your shoulders and hugged you back as you carried on squeezing his waist. “Y/N...please stop crying. I wanted you to laugh not cry” he tried to cheer you up and shushed you as he began to rub small circles into your back. He was never this affectionate, he was even shocked at himself and wondered what you'd done to him to make him feel this way. He didn't want to see you cry, he didn't want to see you with Jin, he was actually really enjoying having his arms wrapped around you and how he could smell your hair as his chin rested above your head. He could feel the shakey rise and fall of your chest slowly returning to normal and knew you would want to pull away soon, “Y/N....how about I drop you home, or if you don't want to be alone you can sleep in our dorms and sleep on the sofa?” He asked as he tried to peer at your face, failing as you only shuffled your face away from his, but consequently nuzzling more into the hug. “My house please.” You managed to mumble out loud enough for him to hear. Jin had finally got his eye all back to normal and had been worriedly trying to find you ever since he had. He heard from Jimin that last he saw you you were headed out without a coat or anything and he was scared you weren't okay. Making his way to the studio he was looking for you here before he gave up and went home, he wasn't sure why he needed to make sure you were okay so much, but he knew he wouldn't sleep if he didn't look. Passing down the halls of the studio he heard quiet talking coming from one of the three open doors and thought he had finally found you, a smile of relief appearing on his face as he jogged to Yoongi’s studio door. But as he peered into the room, that smile quickly faded. “would you like me to take you home?” He hears Yoongi ask as he held you in his arms, sniffing your hair and rubbing comforting circles into your back. Why was his heart so broken? Why did he feel so betrayed? He silently moved from the doorway and walked back down the hall, then out the building.