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Riven had always reserved the edge of his peripheral vision to locating Sky in the battlefield.
Since the first time they had been sent on a mission as a team, where he had learned his brain functioned much better if he compartmentalised where Sky was and how to beat the opponent.
That was why he noticed that, when Kat approached Sky and rested a hand on his arm, he didn’t move an inch.
Riven looked around one last time to ensure there was nothing else that wanted them dead near and then turned towards where Sky kept looking at the ground, motionless. There was something wrong in the way Kat kept trying to get him to react.
Riven’s heart jumped to his throat.
He sheathed his swords and rushed to them. Through the fine ashes the suffocating wind of the Realm of Darkness carried, he caught a glimpse of Sky’s trembling hands that made him skip a heartbeat.
“Kat, regroup everyone and check injuries,” he said as soon as he was close enough.
Kat’s eyes were worried and fatigue made her shoulders drop, but she nodded and left them alone.
Because they were alone. Silva was not with them. They had lost him along the way or perhaps they had been the ones that had got lost.
A wave of darkness had engulfed them and they had fought their way through blindly. And when the darkness receded, they were far away from the rickety trees they had been around before and it was only them. Just a handful of specialists around, and most of the initial group nowhere to be found. It had been a terrible blow to their resolve.
Riven knew the only reason he was still with Sky was because he had actively trailed after him during the fight. He didn’t know how the compartments of his mind would have worked if they had been separated.
He took Sky’s sword from his tight grip and let it fall to the ground, leaving his fingers to shake in the air; and then, closed his hands around his wrists to make them stop.
“Sky?” he asked, swallowing the fear pooling in his chest. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes roamed Sky’s body up and down but couldn’t find an injury that could make him unresponsive.
Then, he saw his shoulders trembled slightly, curving in on himself, and Riven felt warm drops hit his knuckles.
He tried to check but the moment his hands touched Sky’s cheeks he fell to ground on his knees. Riven’s thigh complained and the wound from their last fight reopened, but he let himself be dragged down with him, hissing.
“Sky,” he said, urgently. “Sky, hey.”
He couldn’t give up now, he couldn’t. Riven didn’t have enough strength left inside of him to carry him. He was wounded, they all were. There was a plan, they had to follow the plan. They had to get up, they always had to get up. And if they didn’t know if they could get back up, they couldn't fall, in the first place.
He couldn’t fall apart now, he couldn’t.
Panic seized his ribs.
He tried to face him but Sky refused to lift his gaze off the ground. Riven took his face between his hands and shook his neck.
“Sky, please!”
Sky finally raised his head and Riven choked on air.
And ugly gash crossed his cheekbone and the blood running down mixed with the tears drowning his eyes.
“I’m so tired,” his voice croaked, a sob tearing from his throat.
Riven watched his broken expression through the blood dripping from his own eyebrow. He had never seen Sky break down, not like this, not in this state. It felt like a punch to the stomach.
Sky’s ragged breaths clutched his heart in a tight grasp, pumping his blood at will.
He knew they were at their limit, especially Sky, who had been at his limit since Bloom had left. He knew it had been awful months in Alfea after that and now they were lost in a realm that constantly tried to make them disappear, alone, with no way of knowing if the others were alive, if they still had a chance.
He knew Sky deserved to rest.
As if he had been infected, Riven’s arms started trembling and he had to focus his mind and tear it away from the feelings threatening to drown him mercilessly.
His fingers brushed the blood and the tears from Sky’s cheeks and dragged his head to the hollow of his neck.
“Me too,” he rasped.
He held Sky there, fingers running through blond hair, while his own tears fell. He felt two fists close around his armour and something under his breastbone broke, spilling grief everywhere inside of his chest.
He cursed the universe to get rid of some of the rage and begged it for a break to gain some hope.
Sky held on to him and Riven felt anxiety grasp at his throat because he didn’t know how to be anyone’s steady pillar, much less Sky’s, even if he desperately wished he could pull him up every single time.
He let Sky rest on him until his breathing evened a little, but they couldn’t stay in the same place for much more time. Taking his face once again, Riven pushed him away gently.
“They’re counting on us, Sky” he said firmly, eyes boring into his. “We have a plan; we have to keep going.”
Sky’s expression pinched and a whimper surged up his chest.
Riven’s hands held him tighter, hoping to ground him. He blinked rapidly, the remains of his tears blurring the blue he was looking in — darkened, muted, far away.
He leaned softly until their foreheads touched.
“I’ll heal your wounds and we’ll...” He looked at the sky around them, unchanging in its colour, in its brightness. “We’ll rest for a while, okay?”
There was no way of knowing how much time had passed. This place was cursed to its very core, to its very atmosphere. Everywhere he looked, there were only grey skies and dark lands. There was no sun and it never grew dark unless a dark storm caught you in its claws.
Riven didn’t know how to manage the resting sessions when there was no night and he could see how everyone was wearing thinner around him. He had to make another compartment for counting seconds.
“We’re gonna find everyone and then we’ll get the fuck out of this shithole,” he spoke with all the conviction that was left in him.
Riven wanted to promise him, but couldn’t find it in him to do so.
And still, Sky nodded against his forehead and leaned further into him.