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“Sting?”
Rogue shuffled nervously on his feet as he stood in front of the maple doorway that led to the bedroom the Twin Dragons shared. He couldn’t recall a time he had actually felt this nervous and he wasn’t even sure why he was feeling this way. He wasn’t the one who got hurt; Sting and Lector was. Maybe it was because he still wasn’t one hundred percent sure they were safe, even with Jiemma being reduced to a heap on the floor.
Rogue held a crying Frosch in his arms, the little Exceed clinging to Rogue while trying to hold back tears as best as she could. Rogue shifted so that he was cradling the cat in one arm held close to his chest and used the other arm to knock on the door. His head still pounded from the injuries he had sustained the day before, but he tried he tried his best to ignore it in favor of listening through the door for any sign of movement.
Nothing. There was no sound at all coming from inside the room; no scraping of chairs or bounce of box springs as someone moved. The only sign Rogue had that Sting was even in there was his smell, like the air after it rained and a hint of blood and tears still clinging to him.
Rogue sighed as he reached down for the silver doorknob, turning it slowly to make it wasn’t locked. It wasn’t.
“I’m coming in.” He announced right before slowly opening the door, revealing the two beds against one wall, a desk, and the string of bookshelves on the other side of the room. It was cold in the room, which was surprising since Sting usually kept the heat on. Rogue noticed the open window above the desk and could feel the cool night air blowing through it. It was going to storm.
Sting sat at the desk, head resting against his palms as he stared out the window. His blue eyes, usually filled with arrogance and pride, were blank. He seemed to be lost in thought, not even looking up when Rogue entered the room.
Rogue set Frosch down on his bed, patting her head before turning his attention to Sting. Rogue sat down on the edge of Sting’s bed, which was closest to the desk, and picked at the thin white sheets. His eyes darting from the blanket to Sting and back. Rogue had no idea what to do here. Sabertooth always valued strength over friendships and emotion. Even before the Dragonslayers joined the guild, Rogue had only Frosch, Sting, and Lector. Frosch was easy to comfort; just offer her ice cream and promise a fun day shopping with the two dragons. Sting was always the one to comfort Lector if he ever needed to and Sting himself was always so strong that he never needed to be comforted. But now Lector was gone and Sting was having a hard time remaining strong.
“Are-are you okay?” Rogue cringed. That was a stupid question. Of course Sting wasn’t ok; he had watched his best friend supposedly get killed and won’t know if Lector was ok until after the Grand Magic Games. Rogue felt stupid for asking such a dumb question, but Sting acted like he didn’t hear a thing. He just continued staring blankly out the window, blonde hair waving slightly in the breeze as a few raindrops fell on the window sill. Rogue wondering how his friend wasn’t freezing.
“Sting…Lector’s going to be fine. You’ll win tomorrow’s Games with your new-found strength just like Minerva said and get Lector back.” Rogue flinched at his sorry excuse for comforting words. He sounded like a broken record, just repeating the same things Sting probably already knew. Rogue’s hands twisted in the blanket as he gritted his teeth. Why was this so hard?
“Fro thinks so too!” Frosch spoke up from the bed, smiling at the two Dragonslayers. Rogue smiled back at her while Sting seemed to tense at the sound of her voice. His hand dropped to his side as Sting turned to face the Exceed, blue eyes wide in….something. Was that pain? It looked so foreign to Sting that it shocked both Rogue and Frosch. Rogue couldn’t think of a time he had ever seen Sting like this, not even after Sting had his ass handed to him in a fight.
Rogue sat back and watched as the two stared at each other for what seemed like hours before something clicked and fresh tears filled both their eyes. Sting fell to the floor, landing on his hands and knees with a thud. He was shaking violently, tears falling to stain the bandages on his hands. He looked alone and scared and vulnerable. Gone was the White Dragon from the Twin Dragons of Sabertooth; the person sobbing on the floor was a broken version of the man who had boasted about killing his own dragon, about being one of the strongest members in the strongest guild in Fiore. This was just Sting; a broken man who needed help to put himself back together.
Rogue fell to his knees in front of Sting, gently cupping his face in his hands and tilting his chin to face him. The look on Sting’s face broke Rogue’s heart. Sting was miserable, wallowing in his hatred and self-loathing. Back in the Guild Hall, Rogue had been too afraid to do anything when they lost Lector, but now he was going to do anything to make Sting strong again.
“Hey-hey Sting look at me.” Rogue said gently, wiping some of the tears away from Sting’s cheeks. Rogue could feel tears pricking at his own eyes, but held them back. Now wasn’t the time for him to break down too.
“Lector’s ok. Minerva saved him, she said so herself. He’s ok and you’ll see him again as soon as the Games are over. He’s safe...”
Sting shook his head, reaching up to curl his hands into Rogue’s shirt, inadvertently pulling him closer as he continued sobbing.
“I-I couldn’t protect him! I was supposed to be there for him! I was supposed to protect him! But I just s-sat there!” Sting wailed, hands gripping the material of Rogue’s shirt so tight it almost ripped. “I just sat there and watched as L-Lector was vaporized! I couldn’t d-do anything! I was useless!” Sting let out a loud, shrill howl at the last word, hands letting go of Rogue’s shirt to fist in his hair instead, pulling so hard it burned. Even after all these years of training and becoming stronger, he still wasn’t strong enough to save his best friend. I’m pathetic! I’m useless! Lector would be dead if it weren’t for M’lady and it’s all my fault for being weak!
Without thinking about it, Rogue pulled Sting into a hug, arms wrapping around his back and holding the other man close to his chest. Sting continued to sob, tears making the front of Rogue’s shirt wet, but he stopped pulling on his hair and his hands fell down to hang at his sides instead. Rogue held his friend as he cried, hands moving in comforting circles down Sting’s back. Behind them, Rogue could hear the faint sounds of thunder.
Eventually, Sting stopped shaking and his sobs turned into mere sniffles. Sting pulled back, wiping at the tears and snot on his face. Rogue reached over him to grab tissues off the desk, closing the window while he was at it, and handed them to Sting.
“Thanks.” Sting mumbled, blowing his nose and then turning to throw the tissue away behind him. Sting looked up at Rogue shyly, eyes red and puffy and tear tracks staining his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break down like that…”
Rogue just smiled sadly, wiping away a few more stray tears with his thumb. “Even the strongest people need to cry sometimes.”
Sting felt himself blush, hoping the redness already in his face hid it as he looked down at the hardwood floor. “I keep hearing his voice -Jiemma’s- calling Lector worthless, saying he d-deserved it…” Sting took a deep, steadying breath as he tried not to start crying again, arms wrapping around himself. “I wanted to kill him.”
Rogue’s hand reached down to cup Sting’s chin, tilting his head so they were once again looking at each other. “You did Sting. Jiemma’s gone now. He isn’t going to hurt you or anyone ever again.” Rogue said gently but firmly, like a promise. Rogue pushed some stray strands of damp hair off Sting’s face, smiling to himself. He won’t hurt you again. I’ll make sure of it.
Before Rogue even realized what he was doing, he leaned forward and placed a kiss on Sting’s forehead. The two Dragonslayers froze, eyes slightly wide as they both slowly realized what happened. Even if Sting had bandages covering his forehead so Rogue technically didn’t kiss any part of Sting’s skin, Rogue had never been that intimate with anyone before. It felt weird…but nice at the same time.
Rogue could feel a blush spread across his cheeks as embarrassment ran through him. He did not just do that and he needed to get up because Sting was right there and oh god.
Rogue was moving to do just that, hoping to completely avoid this awkward conversation, but was forced to stop when a hand grabbed the back of his shirt.
“Don’t leave.” Sting whispered, so low Rogue had to strain to hear him even with his super senses. “Please.”
Rogue stood there for a second, contemplating what he should do. His body was telling him to leave and get out of this situation now, but Sting was looking at him with such hope in his eyes and tears still slowly dripping down his face and Rogue couldn’t bring himself to leave. So he nodded, turning back to face Sting and watched as his shoulders slumped in relief.
“It’s late. We should head to bed and prepare for tomorrow.” Rogue murmured, reaching down to help Sting up. Sting stood on wobbling legs, holding onto Rogue’s shoulders for support. Exhaustion swept over both of them as they collapsed onto Sting’s bed. They didn’t bother changing out of their clothes as Sting rested his head on Rogue’s shoulder and closed his eyes.
Frosch hopped over and laid down between them, cuddling up into Rogue’s side. Rogue pulled the blankets over all of them as they settled in, Rogue’s arm reaching to lay protectively across both of his friends.
“We’ll win the Games tomorrow.’ He said against Sting’s forehead, ‘For Lector.”
“For Lector.” He felt Sting nod and take Rogue’s hand in his under the blanket.
They fell asleep like that; hand in hand, Frosch laying sounding between them, and a vow on their lips.
That was when the first strike of lightening rumbled through the sky.