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When the door shuts, Whisper's knees finally buckle from exhaustion. The static plaguing her mind finally overwhelms her, leaving her stranded on the doormat of her and Tangle's apartment.
The fallout of the zombot crisis had left the restoration devastated and near defenceless - and Eggman certainly hadn’t passed on the opportunity to try and push the restoration to its breaking point. There had been an almost immediate uptick in badnik attacks being reported from various cities and villages still in shambles, crackle-static radio calls begging for backup constantly filling the main resistance room.
There was always a silver lining to these situations, however. In Eggman's attempt to cause the resistance to buckle under the pressure, he either didn't account for or didn't care that his army, too, was smaller for his usual standards, spread thin between the multiple places he targeted, leaving the resistance with two options; easily dealing with them with a few resistance members, or sufficiently enough with one.
There were still so many missing restoration members. The usual wolf and lemur duo had to be split up as a result.
Whisper was anything but a stranger to dealing with badnik attacks on her own, and she knew it wasn’t Tangle's first rodeo either, but that didn’t stop them from being exhausting. Handling them day after day with seemingly no end in sight eventually starts to take its toll on the body.
It doesn’t help when she’s still recovering emotionally from the zombot crisis.
The last time they had to split up resulted in her almost losing Tangle, and it definitely wasn’t something she was fond of reliving anytime soon. She was still recovering, aching from the old wound being torn open, spiralling into despair with no one to catch her. Watching Tangle run off with a smile to help protect the city she had been assigned to everyday while Whisper went off to help hers, she felt something ghost over the wound - threatening to dip its hand at the edges and rip it wide open again.
It took more of a toll on her than she’d ever let on.
Publicly, at least.
The static in her mind fades enough to hear the sound of the TV from their living room, and her ears perk up. Either she forgot to turn it off this morning, or the lemur was already home. Given the fact she rarely watched TV, it was the latter.
She attempts to get back up, the mere thought of seeing Tangle giving her newfound energy, but her knees immediately give way again. Her wisps notice her predicament, shooting out of their capsules and helping lift Whisper back onto her feet.
For such small creatures they really are stronger than they look, she muses. Her wisps got to work, removing her knee and elbow pads, and hanging her cape onto the coat rack by the door that served no other purpose besides holding Whisper's cape (aside from a few silly hats that Tangle collected).
When she enters the living room, unsurprisingly, Tangle is already there, sprawled out upon the couch, looking a little worse for wear. There’s various patches of dust and dirt all over her clothes, cuts and scrapes littering her arms and face - the worst of which, Whisper assumes, is already covered up by albeit poorly tied bandages and plasters. Tangle turns her head as she hears the soft click of the living room door opening, turning the T.V off. Her eyes light up slightly at the sight of the wolf, giving her a small smile.
It’s genuine. Tired and weary, but genuine.
Before the zombot incident, when days were less hectic with more energy, Whisper would probably deadpan at the sight, poke at Tangle to clean up and not to get the couch dirty. Tangle would get up with a light hearted complaint about how their couch isn’t getting any cleaner anyways, all while heading to the shower.
But today she walks up to the couch and quietly lies atop of Tangle - loosely wrapping her arms around her neck - a purr emitting from the lemur in response.
“Long day?”
Whisper doesn’t respond, instead nuzzling her face into Tangle's soft chest fluff and pressing her ear against it, focusing on the low vibration of the purr and the slow rise and fall of her chest that accompanied it.
It’s sensory heaven, to put it lightly.
Tangle lightly shuffles around for a more comfortable position, Whisper wrapping her arms a little more tightly so as not to fall off the couch in response. The lemur moves her hands to Whisper's ponytail, gently pulling the hair down and slowly running her fingers through it.
Whisper's hair is barely in better condition than hers, she quickly finds out. Knotted with small bits of rubble and debris that frequently stop her fingers running through the usual silkiness. She quickly tasks herself with smoothing it out, tenderly working through each section of hair.
"You should really let your hair down more, Whisps." Tangle idly says, picking out a small bit of dirt and flicking it to the other side of the room. "You’re real cute with it like that."
"Mmm." Whisper gives a drowsy hum, the world around her already beginning to melt away. Tangle is warm, safe, and the cosiness combined with the lemur’s' reassuring purrs and how Tangle lovingly plays with her hair is doing numbers to her ability to stay awake.
Should she ask about Tangle’s day? The thought floats on her mind, like a leaf drifting along a quiet lake, but the words quickly die on her tongue as she fails to gather the energy to even open her mouth, a small grrmf coming out instead as she curls in slightly. Judging by the way Tangle looked, she’d just say the response she’d give every other day when asked.
Intense, to say the least.
To Tangle, the wolf's usual silence is more than welcomed. She found it utmost adorable how Whisper showed her affections. Living up to her name, Whisper had never been one to speak much in the first place, leaving compliments and the like simple and sparse.
But for what she lacked in words she made up for tenfold in physical affection. For the most part she stayed glued to Tangle's side, their hands longingly intertwining with the others - swinging their arms as they walked down Spiral hill. She would always pull the lemur into a running hug after every victory, no matter how small, always managing to knock the wind out of the lemur. She peppered her with kisses in between soft giddy giggles on nights where they were just oh so in love and wanted nothing but to drown in the others' affections.
Even outside physical love, Whisper's love showed in the small things. Leaving her a glass of orange juice and a muffin in the morning, the tears in her clothes seemingly disappearing overnight with neat thread work, or bringing her home new hair brushes every Tuesday because they just always seemed to always break on Tuesdays.
Tangle lets out a satisfied sigh, chin resting atop Whisper's head which has now found itself buried into the crook of Tangle's neck. Judging by the soft snores that definitely weren't from Whisper because she swears she doesn’t snore, Whisper has already fallen asleep.
Tangle barely suppresses a snort at the sight. Whisper was always trying to stop Tangle from falling asleep on the couch and now look where she is, limp in Tangle's arms, ear gently flicking and leg occasionally twitching. How cute.
It was strange. The couch was far from comfortable with odd loose springs jabbing at her sides, but with Whisper so peacefully asleep on top of her the couch felt far more comfortable than their usual plush bed - the warmth from Whisper's body was soothing and gently coaxing the lemur towards sleep.
Their room isn’t far from the couch. Her tail snakes through the living room to the bedroom, feeling around for a specific blanket, grabbing it and quickly retracting it back.
It was simple compared to their other blankets, dusty pink with a star pattern, and yet it was Tangle's favourite. They had bought it together when shopping for furnishings when they moved in together. The memories and feelings of new beginnings, exciting and new, always came flooding back whenever she wrapped up in it. It made her smile.
She lifts it up, wrapping it around herself and Whisper. She holds her breath for what feels like minutes when she hears the wolf’s breath hitch - before an unusually loud snore comes out. She makes a silent thanks to Chaos for giving her the ability to not burst out laughing.
Her tail moves over to the light switch and flicks it off, engulfing the room in a near darkness, the light from the moon barely lighting the room. She snuggles deeper into the couch, keeping her arms loosely wrapped around Whisper, finally closing her eyes and letting her mind drift.
She wouldn't trade this for the world.