Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was very, very cold.
And of course it was cold. This was the mountains, it was nearly winter, he had no protection. So, yeah. Of course it was fucking cold. But he had to pick something to complain about. The cold was just the most pressing issue. He needed to focus, find some shelter, and not die of hypothermia.

He muttered curses under his breath, stumbling along across uneven, rocky terrain. It wasn’t very windy, not yet, but there was enough of a breeze to where he could never get used to the chill. It hurt, almost.
But everything kind of hurt. His back, arms, chest.. Everywhere.
He’d been sleeping on fucking rocks, on the fucking ground, of course his body hurt.
Ah, and he was hungry, too. Felt like he was being gutted whenever his stomach decided to pipe up and remind him.
Just another problem to add to the list.

“Fucking Addair,” he muttered bitterly.
Fucking Addair. Fucking Rennick. Fucking town.
Fucking people he thought he could trust.
And now he was probably going to die out here. All because of two fucking crossbow bolts that he forgot he ever made.

“Fucking fought with ye, that not enough?” he remarked under his breath, coming to something that slightly resembled a path. He followed it, and came to a wall of sorts. Sheer cliff, much too steep to climb.
Not that he would climb it if he could. He was too tired, and not nearly desperate enough for that. Not yet, anyway.

So, instead, he followed the wall, keeping a hand against it, until he came to a little passage. Narrow, and dark in the dying sunlight, but it would be better shelter than what he had going for him now.
So he turned into it, keeping a tight hold on the crossbow. It was loaded, he wasn’t stupid.

Still, he would be lying if he said he had expected to meet anybody out here.

But pebbles shifted, and he started to doubt his decision to come down this way.
He slowed, keeping his steps quiet. It was getting darker, if he was lucky, he’d hear someone before they noticed him.
And then he picked up the sound of footsteps. Rocks crunching under the foot of someone trying extremely hard to be as loud as possible. Or at least it seemed that way.

Caz stopped, planting his feet and leveling the crossbow. It was all one path, so they would stumble upon him, eventually, and then get shot.
Or, well, if he could get out of this without using a bolt, he’d like to. He only had the few he’d gathered up before Addair did his whole thing, and he’d like to be sparing with them, if he could.
So he didn't fire immediately, when the man came into view. It was hard to make him out, but he didn’t have a weapon, and he sure as hell wasn't wearing clergy robes.

It took kind of an embarrassingly long time for the man to notice him, but he was quick to stop walking and put his hands up defensively.

“Woah! Hey- don’t shoot!” he exclaimed, “promise ye I don’t taste good!”

Caz narrowed his eyes. He didn’t lower the crossbow.
The man took a step closer, squinting in the darkness. Caz placed his finger on the trigger.

“Hold o–”
“Stay there,” Caz demanded.
“Cameron Mcle–” the man muttered, eyes alight with recognition. He went rigid, demeanor changing almost instantly, “It is hi–!”

Caz was too quick. He fired, and the bolt landed with a thunk! In the man’s chest. He whirled around, intending to flee, only to be met with someone else, who he hadn’t even heard coming. They grabbed his head and slammed it, hard as they could, into the rock wall. Blinking stars from his eyes, he jabbed the crossbow hard into their gut. They let go of him, and he backed up.
They pulled a dagger from their waistband, and Caz noticed the rosary swinging from around the handle.

Okay. Definitely from the church.

He swung the crossbow at them, hitting them square in the head with it, and they went down with a yelp.
And then he heard more footsteps.

Fuck. He should’ve just taken the shot.

He turned around, again, taking a bolt out. He didn't have time to load the crossbow, so the bolt on its own would have to do.
He dodged as much as he could, narrowly avoiding taking the full force of their punch. He grabbed them and shoved them up against the opposite wall, attempting to drive the bolt into their chest.
Unfortunately, he wasn't quick enough. He heard rocks clacking and swishing fabric, and then something blunt was driven hard into the back of his head.
He could not clear the spots away, this time. They were very bright. They got far too bright, actually, until they were all he could see.

Vaguely, he was aware of the bolt slipping from his grasp, and his body slumping against the person he’d been attacking.
But it was very bright, and he wasn’t paying attention.

And then everything went dark.

“Ugh..”

And the next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes to something only slightly brighter. Mostly by way of the firelight.

He looked around. Couldn't really see anyone, but he was definitely at a campsite. In a forest, too, how far had they dragged him?
He tried his arms, but they were tied securely behind his back. Also attached to the tree he was leaning against, so he couldn't get up.
Not that he wanted to. His head was pounding, felt like it was being crushed every time he moved it.

So, he was being held captive.
And he couldn't get up. And his head was killing him.
And his chest still hurt. And his back, too.
And it was still fucking frigid.
And he was still very, very hungry.

He let his head flop back against the tree, and closed his eyes.

“Shit.”

Chapter Text

It was hard to sleep.
He was very tired, but he couldn’t get comfortable. That and his heart was beating out of his chest, and his mind was racing and refused to slow down.

It was, as he struggled against himself to fall asleep, that voices drifted into earshot. That, and shifting foliage. He gave up on the sleeping thing, and opened his eyes to see who was approaching.
As he suspected, it was indeed the clergy people that came into view. Approaching from somewhere behind the tree he was tied to. He got a better look at them now, what with the firelight.
One of them, a male, seemed to have perpetually narrowed eyes, and short brown hair. The other was female, with black hair tied back in a bun. He didn’t catch either of their names among the conversation, but he did take notice of the lack of a third person. Which meant the guy he shot had likely not survived.
He couldn't call himself sad about that, it gave him better chances. Besides, they’d have probably killed him just as fast.

Oh, yeah, speaking of that.

The female glanced at him, hitting her companion and motioning towards him.

“Looks like he woke up.”

The man turned to face him, and gave a small smile.

“Perfect timing.”
He approached, crouching to bring himself eye level with Caz, who leaned away as far as he could.
“Morning, Cameron,” he said, “enjoy yer little nap?”
Caz met his eyes, but otherwise kept his mouth shut.
The man frowned, “not feeling very talkative, are we?”

“Fuck ye want from me?” he asked, almost startled by how hoarse he sounded.

“Hm,” he seemed to take notice as well, “just yer help.”

Caz narrowed his eyes, echoing his words slowly, “my help?”

The man nodded, holding up the rosary-dagger Caz had seen back in the passage.
“You, Cameron,” he jabbed the pommel into Caz’s chest, “are gonna get us into that village.”

Caz took a moment to consider, and then let a small smile creep onto his face.
The man furrowed his brow, “What?”
“‘Fraid I cannae do that,” he said, nonchalantly, as if he was not the guy tied to a tree.
The man scowled. Behind him, the female rolled her eyes and turned away to go do something else.

“What do you mean?” the man asked, not exactly pleased.
“Can’t get ye in,” he stated.
“Why?” the man snapped.

Caz grinned, despite the circumstances. He never really was the compliant type.
“They kicked me the fuck out,” he said, “no exactly big fans of mine.”

“You’re still our hostage.”
“Please,” Caz scoffed, “everyone in that town wants me dead as bad as you.”
“Then you can tell us everything you know about it,” he seemed to be getting increasingly irritated. Caz tended to have that effect on people, it seemed.
He barked out a laugh and leaned forwards, “and why would I tell you shit?”

The man grabbed him by the collar, jerking him closer and holding the dagger threateningly close to his face.
“Then you're of no use to us.”
It was a pretty obvious threat, but Caz had yet to be intimidated. He had no doubt the man would like to carry it out, but he knew he wouldn’t.
So he just kept grinning.
“Ye won’t do shit to me,” he declared, “Barclay’d have yer head.”

And he was right, and lucky that these people were keen to follow orders. The man roughly shoved him back against the tree and stood up, clearly upset. He turned away, speaking to the other girl.
Caz caught the name ‘Anderson’ among their conversation, and could only assume it was his.

And then Anderson turned back, gray eyes smoldering.

“Not even Susan, huh? Her and that little fugitive want you dead too?” he snapped, almost mockingly.
Caz had to school his expression. He had been trying very hard not to think about either of them.
“Do ye see them here?”

Anderson looked at the ground, clenching his fists. He’d clearly grown tired of the conversation.
Caz relaxed, best he could, and leaned against the tree. His smile faded as thoughts of Suze and Billy popped back up.
He wondered if they thought he was dead already. Probably not, he decided. They’d sooner scour the mountain than accept something like that.
He hoped they were still in the town. That they weren't looking. If they were, they might end up just like him. Barclay might find them.
He really didn’t want that to happen.

A sudden movement caught his eye. He looked up, just in time for the boot to connect with his face. The kick was hard, and not only did it hurt, but the impact sent his head ricocheting off of the tree trunk.
So, what was that now, a three-time concussion?

“Anderson,” the girl snapped. He didn't react or acknowledge it in any way, though. He just placed his foot on Caz’s chest, pressing down on the pre-existing injury. Caz struggled not to react to the pain, his face twisting into a grimace.
“You’re right, we can’t kill you,” he growled, “but that doesnt mean this has to be painless.”

“Anderson!” the girl snapped again, louder this time, causing him to roll his eyes. Begrudgingly, he backed off, turning to make his way over to her. Caz slumped over, coughing once or twice. His sternum ached, and probably worse now. Addair must’ve fractured it or something, that shit felt horrible.
He worked his jaw. What didn't hurt?

He looked up, catching the tail end of their conversation.

“..killed Bannon!”
“Just don't make this messy.”
Anderson merely grunted in response, and the girl sighed.

“You know how to use a crossbow, right?” She changed the subject.
“‘Do I know how to use a crossbow?’” Anderson echoed mockingly, “fucking course I know how to use a crossbow.”
“Then take it,” she shoved it into his hands, “and go catch something.”
She stood from her crouch, dusting her pants off. She didn’t seem to have any other weapon, and Caz noticed Anderson hand the rosary-dagger off to her. Seemed they shared it, then.

“We go to Barclay tomorrow night,” she decided, “have our hands full on the way,” she nodded to Caz.
“What about the town?” Anderson asked.
“Fuck the town!” the girl hissed, “we have Cameron. We can come back, but Barclay’d want him sooner rather than later.”
Anderson relented, nodding, “fine. You’re right.”
“Course I am,” she muttered, “now, food,” she ordered. Anderson nodded, and trudged off into the surrounding forest, crossbow in hand.
Caz silently hoped he wouldn’t waste any bolts. He only had three now. If he was going to get out of here, he’d definitely need them.

The girl watched him go, and then settled down. She sat, and Caz could only assume she was sitting guard.
She looked him over. Didn't seem very sympathetic, all things considered.

“You look like shit, y’know.”

Caz only looked away. He wasn't looking for conversation, he was trying to think of a way to escape. He also just didn't want to talk, cause he sounded like shit too.

She narrowed her eyes, observing him.
“Caused a lot of stress with that little disappearing act,” she remarked, “practically all Barclay’s been talking about.”

Caz chuckled sourly, “fuck off.”

“Stole his daughter, right?”

“I didn't steal shit,” he retorted.
The girl shrugged, “that's just what he says.”
“Fuck Barclay,” Caz growled, “he doesnt know anything.”

The girl just fell silent, watching him for a moment, and then got up. She went over to a bag and rifled around in it. She pulled out what Caz could only assume was some sort of dried meat, and tore a chunk off. She dropped it on the ground, and took the rest to eat for herself.
Caz was hungry, very hungry, and from the way she looked at him she could tell.
But she didn't offer him any, just finished it off and wiped her hands on her pants. Then, she took the dagger out and walked off.

“Don't go anywhere,” was all she said as she passed Caz. He watched her go, and then turned back.
And now that he was alone, he had nothing, really, to distract himself from thinking.
I mean, there was the hunger, which doubled him over. And thirst. And head injuries. And just the general knowledge that he was probably going to die tomorrow night.
But they didn't distract him from much, not really. In fact, they just made him think about them more.
Suze and Billy.

He really missed them.

He’d give anything to go see them. Even if only for a little bit. He’d give anything just to know they were doing alright.

He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. He thought of them. Pretended he was back in Beira, back in their room. All of them crammed into that tiny bed. It wasn’t that comfortable, but honestly, he’d love to go back to that.
He’d be fine sleeping on this tree if they were here with him.

There was a rustling sound, so he opened his eyes.
It took him a second to process what he was seeing.

There was a small creature, it seemed, peering out of some bushes. Their eyes flicked to him, narrowed, and then disappeared. Caz squinted at the bush the creature was hiding in, and watched as another one crawled out. They looked different, and they definitely didn't seem as scared as the first one.

They were small, child-sized, and covered in fur. Everywhere but the face and arms.
As the second creature made their way over to the discarded meat, Caz noticed it had a little tail. The fur was all puffed out, and this creature kept glaring at him.

It grabbed the meat and jumped backwards, like it really thought Caz was going to try something.
He frowned, and wondered if it really was a child. He hadn't seen anything that could be parents around, and to be fair he hadn’t seen the creatures themselves either, but they seemed to be prisoners too. And knowing what the church did?
Yeah. Probably orphans, then.

The scowling one set the meat down, and let out a chittering call. The other one peeked out, and reluctantly emerged. This one was fluffier, had more of a mane, and was also redder in color. The other one was more grayish. They both had the same pattern, though, lots of spots all over their fur.
The nervous one crept over, and the angry one tore the meat in half to share it.

Caz looked away, leaning against the tree.
If they really were kids, he didn't want to think about them being here with him.
And he didn't want to think about what was going to happen to them.

So he just closed his eyes, and tried to get himself to fall asleep.
Maybe he would dream of Suze and Billy. That would be nice. Much nicer than this.
He’d like to dream about them.

He’d like to dream at all. He’d like to be anywhere but here.

Chapter Text

Apart from being painful and all that, being kidnapped was decidedly boring, Caz thought. Unable to sleep, he got to sit at that tree with, largely, his own thoughts. And he’d never been proficient at being alone with himself, not nearly enough.
So, this was practice, maybe.
Painful and boring practice.

He sighed and leaned back, it was like his thoughts were on a track. Always looping through the same things. It was either the pain in his gut, his head, or where he’d be if things had gone differently.
Probably at home, with his wife. Wherever home was. He wouldn’t be here, at least. Not if he’d gone through with it. If he hadn’t hesitated, if he’d shot Billy right then and there.
He definitely wouldn’t be here.
But then… well, he wouldn’t have been in Beira either. And sure as shit not with Billy.
And Barclay probably still would’ve found a way to fuck up his life.

Didn't matter.
He was here now, and nothing could really change that.
The clergy people returned, anyway, so he had a distraction now.

“..don’t know shit about this place,” Anderson’s voice drifted into earshot as he entered. He paused in the middle of the camp, glancing at the bush the creatures were always hiding in. “Speaking of,” he crossed his arms, “you should probably water the plants.”

The girl seemed slightly irritated at being told to do it, but she wordlessly obliged. She pulled a canteen off her belt and approached the bush, crouching low. Caz squinted, and eventually realized she was letting the children take drinks from it.
She pulled it back, probably too soon, knowing these people, and Caz caught glimpses of the creatures sheltering back in the bush. Before she screwed the cap back on all the way, she glanced at Caz.

“What about him?” she asked, gesturing towards him. Anderson turned, narrowing his eyes in a scowl.

“Fuck him,” he hissed, “he wants some, he can beg for it.”

The girl shrugged, and put the canteen away. Caz watched. He was upset that he wasn't going to get any, he was as thirsty as he was hungry (and they fucking knew that, too), but he sure as hell wasnt going to beg for anything. He’d rather die.

Anderson glanced at the sky, and then sighed.
“Getting late,” he remarked.
“Still plenty of time to make yourself useful,” the girl retorted, walking around the camp and picking up sticks she found.
“What do you want me to do?!” Anderson snapped, “build a fire?!”
“No,” she growled, “I’m building a fire. You can go hunt.”

Anderson scoffed, “I hunted earlier.”
“You didn't catch anything!” she snapped, dropping the would-be firewood in the middle of the camp, right by his feet.
He averted his eyes, “didnt find anything.”
She grabbed another stick and whirled around to glare at him, “try harder.”

Caz watched them argue, mildly entertained by it.

“Fuck off!” Anderson snapped, slipping Caz’s crossbow off his shoulder and holding it. Incorrectly, Caz noted.
“We don't even need it! We have food,” he kicked his foot at the backpack.

“Not a lot,” the girl retorted, “and we won't be able to hunt on the trip back to Barclay.”

“Just ‘cause we’re wasting it all feeding those things,” he muttered, “we leave tomorrow night, anyway. There’s plenty of time.”

The girl heaved a sigh, "I'm just asking you to be useful for once, Anderson.”

He shot her a glare, opening the backpack and glancing at its contents.
“There’s plenty in here!”

“For us two, maybe,” she said.

“Well then why bring them?!” he motioned to the bush, “we don't need them! They're just gonna be mouths to feed and fill up our hands.” He approached her, “How about we leave tomorrow and make the hike back without them? Barclay wants Cameron, not those things.”

“Oh, so just leave those demons running around, then? Would Barclay like that?”

“No! We wont leave them around, we just..” he loaded the crossbow, “we can kill them. Easy.”

The girl glared at him, “we’re not priests. We can't cleanse anything.”

Anderson rolled his eyes, “who cares about cleansing? Nobody even has to know, just like the parents.”
Caz balled his hands into fists behind his back. So, they were orphans, thanks to the fucking church.
He clenched his jaw tight. They’d probably had to watch it happen, too. And now they were considering killing the children, and the girl was worried about not being a priest.
Fuck off. They were both murderers.
The entire church was a fucking joke.

“The parents were accidents,” she said, deliberately not looking at Anderson, “it couldn't be avoided. These ones can be,” she pulled out a fire striker and bent down, “and these ones can be dealt with properly. In the eyes of God.”

Anderson scoffed and turned away, shaking his head.
The girl looked up.

“Do you claim to know better than God?” she finally met his eyes.
Anderson stopped, he was silent for a moment, searching her face.
And then he shook his head again, “of course not.”

“Then go catch something so we can carry out his will.”

And Anderson did, with no retort or scowl or anything of the like. He just walked off into the forest, the quietest Caz had seen him.

There was a lull in activity. It took her a few attempts, but the girl successfully started a fire. It was kind of nice, Caz couldn’t really feel it, but it was slightly more pleasant than the chill.
The sun continued to sink, until it disappeared behind the trees. The sky got dark, and the camp was plunged into blackness as the first few stars appeared.
It wasn't easy to see them through the trees, but Caz could find them if he looked hard enough.

Caz had started to feel shaky, the darker it got. At first, he thought it was the cold, which actually wouldn't be that surprising. But he soon realized it was the hunger, which was even less surprising.
It had been a while, after all.

He didn't like the feeling. He felt so.. light. Like he was hollow on the inside, and gusts of wind kept stirring everything up in there. And it made him feel sick.
And his stomach kept contracting. It was getting worse, and it hurt like hell. Worse than his head, at this point.
He doubled over with a groan, it got so bad he felt like he was going to throw something up. What, he wasn't sure, but the sentiment was there.

The groan attracted the attention of the girl, who had, once again, taken to sitting guard. She looked at him.
“Is everything okay over there?”

“Fuck.. off,” he huffed. He felt oddly sweaty, despite not even feeling warm.
“Mh,” she just tipped her head back.
“It.. fuck– it hurts–” he didnt know why he was saying it, he barely wanted to say shit to her. But pain and fatigue were swirling around in his head, so maybe he just wasn't thinking straight.
“Yeah,” the girl remarked.
“Can I– can I just.. Eat something.. Please..”
The girl tilted her head, as if she were looking him over. After a long contemplation, she settled back with emotionless eyes.
“No,” she crossed her arms, “I’ve seen people starve, Cameron,” a small smile crept onto her face, "you're not quite there yet.”

She regarded him, and he looked away from her, trying to suppress how much pain he was in. He didn't want her to get any satisfaction from it.
Eventually, her thoughts turned, and she frowned deeply. She sighed, mumbling something about Anderson under her breath.

She got up, scowl on her face.
“Always on me to save you,” Caz heard her mutter as she walked by. The sound of foliage rustling behind the tree told him she’d left, probably to look for him.

He gave up trying to school his expression, now that she was gone he had no need.
Another wave of pain came and went, and when it subsided, he noticed a rock rolling lazily towards him. It bounced off of his foot, and he looked up to see where it had come from.
As suspected, he saw one of the children. It was the nervous one, and, true to the moniker, they were crouched low, looking at him with wide eyes. They were out of the bush, as far as their restraints would let them go, and kept glancing from the rock to him, and back.

He furrowed his brow, confused. He shifted, sinking lower to extend his leg a little more, and gave the rock as much of a kick as he could manage.
The child grabbed it as soon as they could reach, and jumped back, practically laying flat on the ground, resting their chin on the rock.
They looked at him, and, slowly, their tail raised.

They rolled the rock around beneath them, before letting out a squeaking noise and giving it the hardest push they could muster.
It rolled, again, towards Caz, and bounced off his foot.
He gave a small smile and kicked it away again.

The child grabbed it, and this time didn't hesitate to push it back. They tilted their head and waited for him to kick it back.
And he did.
And he kept doing it. It was like a little game, he thought.

So it just went back and forth, the rock. It was something pleasant to focus on, and the kid really liked it.

Though, eventually, Anderson and the girl came back. He stepped in the way of the rock before it reached Caz, and bent down to scoop it up. He eyed it, smirked, and pocketed it.
“Playing fetch in here, eh?” he remarked.
The child let out a warbling noise, glaring at him. Their tail lashed, and they got as close to him as they could, snapping their teeth and grabbing at his ankle.
He looked down at them, curling his lip in disgust, and gave them a hard kick to the chest. The kid yelped and fell back, squeezing their eyes shut.

Caz recoiled, lurching forward as much as he could.
“Hey– Don’t do that!”

Anderson turned to him, regarding him with as much disdain as he did the child.
“What’s that, now?”

He tried, really tried, to get out of the restraints this time. Fury blazing in his gut, momentarily scorching out the hunger pangs and nausea.
“Dont ye fucking hurt them!”

Anderson narrowed his eyes, “oh, yeah? You’re telling me what to do now, are you?”

“Leave them the fuck alone,” he growled, gritting his teeth.

Anderson approached him, lips pulling into a smile. The child got up and hastily moved back into the shelter of the bush, but their eyes remained, peering worriedly out at Caz. Anderson stopped right in front of him, staring down, searching his face.
Then, he let out a laugh.

“Fine, if you care so much about those things,” he said, bending down, “but they won’t be around much longer.”

Caz seethed, and Anderson was clearly amused by it. He chuckled again, but the girl piped up before he could say anything else.
“Anderson, it's late,” she ordered wearily, “back off, just make sure he's secure.”

And he shot her an irritated look, but complied anyway. Leaning over to mess with the ropes binding Caz to the tree, make sure they were still tight, and he wasn't escaping. They were, Caz knew it, he’d tried them enough today. And still, he pulled them tighter, probably out of resentment for Caz than a concern for security.
Whatever. Caz didn't react, just glared at him as he got up and moved away. He saw the girl with the kids, making sure theirs was secure, too. It was the first time Caz really got a look at their restraints.
Seemed they were tied to the same length of roop, looped around their necks and secured to a tree root, in roughly the same fashion as him. They had more room to move, but it still pissed him off that they were tied up.

Once they were done, they gathered their things and put the fire out, before walking off to wherever, most likely to sleep.
Caz and the children were alone. He could barely see anything, but he heard the bush rustling, and he knew the nervous one was still watching him.

“Do ye.. Uhm– do ye speak?” he asked.
He got no response, which.. Yeah, figures. It was a long shot anyway.
“Well.. ye understand me, don’tcha?” he spoke to darkness, “I think ye do…”

He trailed off, shifting to try and get into a position that was at least marginally comfortable. Suddenly, he heard a squeak from the bush.
His expression softened.
"I'm still here.”

There was another pause, followed by the bush rustling, and then more silence.
He didn't know what compelled him to speak. Maybe he wanted to comfort the children, maybe he just didn't like the silence.
Maybe both.

“Yer alright, right?” he asked, “he didn’t hurt ye too bad?”
No response, as expected.
He looked down.
“Im gonnae get us out of here,” he said, “all three of us.” He tucked his knees up, close as he could get them. “Be easy if I had the dagger,” he remarked, “could cut us free, no problem.”
He fell silent, and then let out a sigh.
“Dunno. I’ll figure it out,” he tried to see them through the blackness, “just… get some sleep,” he was talking to himself as much as them, “ye’ll need it.”

He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He heard another squeak.
“Still here, and no goin’ anywhere,” he said, “don’t worry about me.”

He heard the bush shifting, and caught a faint chittering sound. It sounded like they were laying down, probably together.

“Just go to sleep, okay?”

No response. Not even the sounds of movement anymore.
He assumed they were asleep.
And he managed to join them.

Chapter Text

Sleep wasn’t very restful, not out here. It was like being immersed in dark water, still cold and all, and the only reason he could even be asleep was because he was just so fucking tired.
Nevertheless, he slept. Restless or not, he slept.

He managed to stay asleep for a good amount of hours, and then spent the rest of them in some sort of weird, half-awake limbo. Like his body was awake, but his eyes were closed, and he still felt like he was asleep.
When he finally decided to wake up, it was because he heard people walking around, and it jolted him aware enough to pull himself out of whatever state he’d been in.

He blinked several times to clear the sleep from his eyes, and looked around the little campsite. It was early, but the sky was bright enough that he could tell the sun had risen.
Anderson was already up, grumbling as he occupied himself with relighting the campfire. Fumbling with the wood, which he must’ve had to gather while Caz was asleep, and the firestriker until he managed to get a flame going.

Caz looked away, sleep was fading and the pain was settling in again. Nestling in his gut right alongside the realization that if he could not escape soon, he would be seeing Barclay again. He only had today, probably until the afternoon at the earliest.
The same went for the children, which he sought out within the bush. They woke up about the same time as him, he saw them moving around. The nervous one peered out, like it always did, and seemed relieved to find Caz was still there. He saw them rub their eyes, and then squint at Anderson. The angrier one appeared, and placed themselves beside the nervous one. Caz thought they looked rather protective, and he felt strangely downcast about it.
He’d be protective too, all things considered.

They abruptly slipped back into the bush, out of view, with an exchange of chittering noises.
They sounded kind of like birds, he thought. All shrill like that.

Anderson didn’t like the noise, or maybe he just didn’t like the kids in general. Either way, he wrinkled his nose at the bush and, with an exasperated look on his face, made his way back to what Caz could only assume was where the other part of the camp was, behind the tree he was secured to.
He wasn’t gone for very long, and Caz heard the girl’s voice when he stepped into view.

“..feed them,” she said it like an order.
“I know!” Anderson snapped, coming into view beside the tree. He strode past it, and Caz noticed fresh meat in his hands.
So he had ended up catching something, eventually. It had already been cooked, it seemed. Probably while Caz was asleep, maybe this morning?

The girl didn't follow Anderson, she just turned and disappeared back behind the tree.
They were still on bad terms, he decided, smirking in amusement at the fact.

Caz mostly just watched Anderson, trying and failing to get used to the waves of pain that washed over him. His head was feeling better. Still shitty, but better. Only now his arms were feeling rather stiff from being behind his back for so long, and the rope was rough on his wrists.
Always another problem, huh.

He didn't have anything to say, anyway. So he just watched, really, as Anderson moved around the campsite.
He took the cooked game meat and, after eating some of it himself, used the dagger to carve chunks off to, begrudgingly, give to the children.

He crouched by the bush, dagger still in hand, and went to drop the meat on the ground. Only to be stopped as the nervous one, rather abruptly, leapt out and sank their teeth into his wrist. He cried out and yanked his arm back, but the creature held their jaws fast. His hand reflexively opened, and the dagger flew out, thumping against the ground.
Caz sat up when he noticed this, suddenly alert. As Anderson struggled with the child, Caz extended his leg as far as he could. He had to sink particularly low to the ground, but he managed to drag it towards him. Heart pounding particularly rapidly, he drew it close enough to kick it slightly to the side, lean over and grab it.
Just as he did, Anderson tore the kid from his wrist and threw them roughly back into the bush, letting out several curses. Then he whirled around, glaring lividly at Caz.

“Fuck are you staring at?!” he shouted, really just out of a potent mix of fury and embarrassment. Cause, being honest, Caz had been far too focused on getting the dagger to be looking at anything.
But he wouldn't tell Anderson that.

“Just watching god’s will in action,” he said, “hitting kids. How saintly of you.”

Anderson gritted his teeth and pointed at him, “God has nothing but hatred in His heart for demons!” he spat, “especially demons who take the form of children!”

Caz just gave a sarcastic grin, “sure sounds like a nice guy.”

“You shut your fucking mouth!”

“I’m jus–”
But Anderson stormed over and yanked him up by the collar. Caz held tight onto the dagger, trying very hard not to cut himself on it, or otherwise let anyone know he had it.

“You don't get to say shit about God! You're a traitor! Just as bad as the rest of them!” he shouted, “You–”

“Anderson!” the girl interrupted him, as she tended to when he blew up like this.
He dropped Caz and turned to her, still very much seething.
“Fucking what?!”

She balled her hands into fists, “j-just..” she struggled for what she wanted to say, and then gave up, dismissively waving her hand, “fucking forget it! I’m going to find somewhere to build the signal, you just stay here and- and come get me when you’re done being so fucking incompetent!”

Caz raised his eyebrows. They were, apparently, on very bad terms.
Anderson looked at her, “a fucking signal? Why are we wasting–”
The girl took a quick breath, held it for a minute, then let out a long exhale. She glared at him.
“Barclay needs to know we’re coming, or we won’t make it back,” she explained, “now just– just fuck off. Stay here.” she said.
“Bu–”
“Just be fucking helpful the only way you can be,” she snapped, “stay out of my way.”

And then she stormed off, pointedly not looking back or acknowledging Anderson any further. Caz watched her go, and then looked at Anderson.

“Trouble with the missus?”

The taunt worked. Anderson was brought right back into his fury, and he stomped back over to the tree. He glared, and evidently decided he’d had enough of arguing, because he reached for his waistband to retrieve the dagger..

..just as Caz finished cutting through the rope around his wrists.

Before Anderson could react, Caz got his feet under him and sprang up, balling his hand into a fist around the dagger’s pommel and punching Anderson square in the jaw. It snapped his head to the side, and he fell back. Caz hadn’t used his legs in a bit, and hunger didn’t exactly leave him with a lot of strength, so he immediately fell too.
Anderson landed on his back, and it knocked the wind out of him. He reached up and grabbed Caz’s arm, in an attempt to stop him, but Caz got onto his knees and drove the dagger down. It pierced his eye and went through, and whatever Anderson was trying to say died in his throat, a raspy gurgle, and he went limp.
Caz was silent for a moment, breathing hard from the sudden exertion after sitting still for several hours, brain sluggish from pain and fatigue and trying to catch up. But he snapped himself out of it, slid the dagger out, and darted unsteadily over to the bush.

The nervous child darted right out. They came up to him and tilted their head so he could cut the rope around their neck. His hands still wouldn't stop shaking, and now he had adrenaline making his heart pound alongside everything else, but he managed to cut them loose without injury.
They squeaked, and the both of them looked into the bush, where the angrier creature was still hiding. They were still unsure, not quite trusting Caz.

“S-s alright,” he tried to coax them out, “I'm no gonnae hurt ye.”

They eyed him, glancing between the dagger, the other child, and him. The nervous kid chittered at them, and apparently that convinced them. They crept out, flinching away from Caz when his hands brushed them. He decided not to cut the loop itself, just sever the part that was knotted to the tree trunk, because they clearly didn't want to be touched.
He’d just gotten them free, and opened his mouth to speak, when a voice boomed.

“FUCK!”

The children jumped, the angrier one grabbed the nervous one’s hand and ran for cover. Caz turned to see the girl. She tore her gaze away from Anderson and settled it on him, her eyes blazing with rage.
Caz got up, stumbling on unsteady legs, as she charged at him. He backed up, lashing out at her with the dagger, but she managed to avoid it. She tackled him to the ground, grabbing his arm and shoving it right into the campfire.
The arm erupted in pain, and Caz couldn’t stifle the raw scream that tore itself from his throat. The girl’s face twisted in pain, too, as her hand burned right alongside his arm.

He let go of the dagger on a reflex, muscles tensing as his skin blistered. Despite the pain, she kept his arm pinned in the fire. With her other hand, she reached for his throat.
His head swam and waves of black crossed over his vision, he couldn't think of anything, not at the moment. It was all he could do to keep himself awake, fight the darkness that crept in on the edges of his sight.

He was only vaguely aware of when she started squeezing. When his breath got short and his head felt tight.
He couldn’t do anything about it.

Maybe he really was going to die out here.

But then her entire body jolted, he felt her get extremely tense. He squinted, and saw her eyes go wide and glassy. Her mouth hung open, and she just… stopped. She was still strangling him, but not really of her own volition anymore.
He gathered enough sense to grab her hand and pry it off his throat, coughing as soon as he did. But it abruptly died off as he realized he felt something moving beneath her skin.

He dropped the hand and looked up at her face. He could see it, several things moving. Shifting beneath the skin. They pressed outwards, stretching her flesh in a way that looked incredibly painful.
They moved up, into her face. Her eyes bulged as they pushed through the sockets. Wound their way up through her throat and out of her mouth.
And as this happened, Caz realized the things that were moving were mushrooms. Several different kinds, though some he recognized.

He watched in horror. He had no idea when she died, if it was immediately, or if she had to wait to suffocate on them, but she did die.
And she went limp very suddenly, flopping onto him. He grabbed her and hastily shoved her off, wincing as pain shot through the injured arm from being used. He pulled it close to him, his eyes never leaving the body of the girl.
He’d be lying if he said he didn't worry the corpse was going to reanimate, somehow piloted by the fungus.

It didn't. He heard a squeak instead.

He looked over to see the nervous creature prying their teeth from her ankle, giving him what looked like a proud grin.
He took a breath, he didn’t have time to process whatever the fuck he’d just watched. He needed to hightail it out of here, just in case anyone was nearby.

He pushed himself off the ground and looked around the camp. His eyes landed on the backpack, and he hurried over to it. He opened it, frantically removing everything he didn’t need (which was basically everything but the food, the firestriker, and the canteens). He held the bag open and motioned for the creatures to come over.

“I can- I cannae carry ye. Ye need to get.. Get in.”
The nervous one didn’t hesitate, and though the angrier one didn't seem fond of the idea, they followed their sibling. Caz gently slung the bag over his shoulder, and darted over to Anderson’s corpse. He pried the crossbow off of it, retrieved the bolts, and stood, breathing heavily.

“S-stay in there, okay?” he said over his shoulder.
And then, without hesitation, he ran off into the forest. Eager to get away from the camp and the bodies and whatever the fuck the nervous child had done to the girl.
He didn't really think about it, he was good at ignoring things.

Especially when he felt dizzy and shaky and his arm stung something fierce with every movement.
So he could ignore it.

And he preferred to.

Chapter Text

Caz was rapidly running out of energy.
He was long gone, away from the camp. Though he didn’t quite know where he was, he knew the clergy people were dead, and he had gotten out. The adrenaline that had kept him going melted away, leaving him sore and tired and chewing on the air.
He hiked unsteadily across the mountains, kicking rocks and fighting to keep his eyes open.
He had to find some sort of shelter, somewhere to hide. He’d just been out in the open before, and now that he knew the church had people coming down here, he refused to leave himself vulnerable again.
He wasn't going to get lucky a second time, and neither were the kids.
Speaking of..

“You.. you two dinnae happen to have names, do ye?” he asked over his shoulder. He’d been talking to them, on and off, mostly as a way to occupy himself. A momentary distraction from everything else.
But they weren't exactly good conversation maintainers. Caz thought they might want to be, but all they could do was squeak at him. He was pretty sure the nervous one was as tired as him, back there. He felt them lean close, almost onto his shoulder, but otherwise got no response.
“Aye.. figures,” he remarked.
He pressed his lips into a firm line and thought for a moment.
“Suppose that means I oughta do it, huh?”

He stopped, and looked back as much as he could. The nervous one had sat up, the backpack flap drooping over their head. Their eyelids were heavy, but they still met his gaze. Caz was pretty sure they understood him to some degree. I mean, they’d known to get him the dagger.
“You..” he decided, “you can be Cait.”
They cocked their head to the side, squeaking at him. He nudged the bag with his elbow, poking the spot where he felt the angrier one curled up.
“And you, down there.. Yer Maidie. Okay?”

Cait merely rested their chin on his shoulder. To be honest, Caz really just wanted something to call the kids that wasn't ‘the nervous one’ and ‘the angrier one’. But he said the names he’d given them, and they did acknowledge them, so he assumed they were fine with it.

So, he continued on.
Eventually, he found somewhere he recognized.
It was the passage, he’d somehow made his way back here. Though he was on the opposite side as where he’d been before.
He paused to look, but otherwise kept moving. He wasn't gonna do all that again.
He decided to start walking in the direction that would bring him the farthest away from the passage, and the forest, or at least the part of it he’d been in. It would bring him closer to Beira, he noted, but he’d keep out of sight.
Or maybe Suze and Billy would find him and bring him back. Or maybe they’d find him and all three leave together, just like they’d left their farm.
He smiled absentmindedly.
Back then, it really had been the three of them against the world, hadn’t it?
He’d like to go back to that. Fuck Beira, fuck the town, he just wanted to be with his partners again.
Well, he probably wasn’t going to see them. If he got too close to Beira, he’d either be killed by the church or by one of the townspeople. That was clear enough.
So he was alone. Only the kids for company.

“Just the three of us, huh?” he remarked.

Caz kept walking. The sun was getting higher in the sky, it was almost noon now. Still cold, but Caz was fairly certain it was always going to be cold.
He came upon another little passage, though this one didn’t quite look the same. He found it mostly by accident, almost running into it.
It looked very short, and a lot like a dead end. Except that Caz could tell it went back further when he looked hard enough.

He didn't hear anyone. Didn't smell anything. Plus, he had two children with some sort of mushroom growing power.
He buckled down and squeezed through it.

Not an easy fit, but he got through. The passage was short as it was narrow, and opened up to a shallow little cave sort of thing. It wasn't big, but to be honest, it was better shelter than anything he’d had before. And so long as he stayed away from the opening, and kept quiet enough, nobody would really look twice at it.

He slid the backpack off his shoulders, doing his best to lower it to the ground as gently as he could. Cait blinked groggily as soon as their head was off of his shoulder, and they gave a small squeak as they surveyed the surroundings.

“Come on, now,” he said, motioning for them to get out of the bag, “both of ye.”
Maidie was awake too, and was quick to follow Cait out. They settled back down on the cave floor, all curled up with each other.
Caz looked through the bag, counting off the contents in his head. The food, canteens, fire striker, and, he discovered, a little scarf he hadn’t noticed attached to the side. He’d been too frantic to examine the outside of the bag, after all.
Anyway, he really had one thing on his mind. Food.

God, he was hungry. He’d been about to pass out for, what, halfway over a day now?
The dried meat was very salty. More than he remembered ever having, but whatever. It just felt good to eat something.
Really good.
Also made him feel slightly worse, for some reason.
But at least he knew he wasn’t going to die now. Not yet, anyway.

He also gave some to the kids, sitting down and leaning against the wall, holding it out to them. Cait, as expected, was the one to take the food first. They seemed to trust him the most.
Still, they were able to convince Maidie. And they both ate together.
Nobody was going hungry tonight, and that was a nice thought.

Caz didn’t eat as much as he would’ve liked. He could probably eat everything in the bag, but he had to be careful about making it last. Never knew how much he’d have, and how long he’d have it. So he wasn't going to be starving to death, he was just going to remain starving.
He’d handle it.
It was necessary, especially when he had his arm horribly injured. That would probably impact his ability to hunt, or even hold the crossbow.

Ah. Yeah, speaking of the arm.
Now that he wasn’t dying, he could focus on it now.

He pushed back the looming weariness, settled down, and gave his arm a good look.
It was kind of a mess. Not pleasant to look at, not at all. His arm was red, swollen, and covered in blisters. A lot of them were broken, and irritated further by all the times he’d used the arm on the hike here. It was also oddly shiny looking? As if it had gotten wet. The sleeve was pretty much ruined for that arm, most of it lost. It wasn't very robust clothing, just something he scrounged up, so he supposed he should've expected it wouldn't take getting up-close-and-personal with a campfire very well.
It also smelled terrible. Everything, all of it smelled terrible.
And it hurt. Very very badly.

He sighed.
What the fuck was he supposed to do for this? He didn’t have any medical shit, and he definitely didn't know how best to deal with such an injury. Innes was the doctor, not him.
He should probably cover it, right? But with what?
The only thing he could think of was the scarf, it was the only real option. But it had been hanging off the side of the bag for however long, laying on the ground, Caz could see it was dirty.
Still, he grabbed it.

Fuck. He really should’ve learned how to deal with shit like this.
Well, how was he supposed to know this would be information he was going to need so soon?
Whatever.
He couldn't use the entire scarf, it was too long, for one, and he didn't want to use the dirty part. He didn’t have the dagger, but he grabbed one of his bolts and used it to cut the scarf. He tore it the rest of the way off, ending up with a shorter, cleaner segment.

Cait noticed him, approaching curiously.

He took the segment, which looked like it would be just about enough for the arm, and started trying to wrap the wound up.

And oh, it hurt. It stung. Enough to make him grunt in pain, eyes watering.
Even just the slightest touch, it seemed, hurt like hell.

He kind of gave up halfway through, it just hurt too much. He was too battered and too tired to deal with it now. So he let the scarf just sit there, draped halfway around the arm.
Cait came up to him, eyeing the half wrapped up injury.

They leaned down, sniffing it. Caz flinched away, but they were nothing if not persistent. He watched Cait look over the wound, before meeting his eyes. They flashed their teeth at him, and opened their mouth, moving to sink their teeth into his arm.
He tensed and quickly pushed them back, to their bewildered irritation. Memories of the girl's death flooded his consciousness.

“Hey– woah, woah,” he huffed, “no fucking— no fucking way yer doin’ that fungus shit to me.”

Cait squeaked irritably and approached again. Caz tucked the arm close to his chest and turned himself away from them, glaring.

“Yer not– yer– I said no,” he spoke firmly.
What, were they trying to kill him? Did they think the injury was too bad, and it was best to just put him out of his misery?
Or were they just meant to do that? Had they always just been meaning to do it, go around biting and killing everyone with whatever the fuck they did?

Cait was indignant, giving him their best approximation of a glare. Or a pouty-face.
Caz just scowled right back.

Maidie wasn’t trying to bite him, just watching from their spot, curled up by the opposite wall. Cait chittered at Caz, and gave up, walking back over to join their sibling. Leaving Caz alone, watching the two curling up directly across from him.
Reminiscent of how they’d been set up at the camp, actually.

He glanced out the little passage entryway, catching a glimpse of the sky. Still bright, about early afternoon, maybe?
He sighed, again.

It was cold, sun out or not. He had a fire striker, he could try and make a fire.
Well. that would mean going back outside to gather wood. And who knows how close any suitable trees would be, because he sure as hell wasn’t hiking back the way he came.
So he’d have to be out there, gathering wood, walking long distances again. With the arm and everything.
He’d probably have to carry the kids around again, too. Couldn't trust them to be alone, didn't know whether or not they’d stay put.
And then there was the fact that he was just so tired. He’d been running on empty for quite some time now. Hungry, thirsty, and injured. At least now he wasn’t as hungry or thirsty, thanks to the backpack’s contents, but he was still sore.

Caz more or less accepted that he was always gonna be fucking cold out here, and right now, he just didnt have the energy. He was already fighting to keep his eyes open.
But, if he didn't make a fire, the kids would be cold too.

So he leaned over and grabbed the scarf, standing up with a groan. He brought it over to them, and held it out so they were aware of what it was.
“It’ll keep you warm,” he said, slurring his words a bit.

Cait frowned at him, and Maidie just stared at the scarf.
Caz crouched down and laid it on top of them. He would let them do what they wanted to get comfortable with it, as long as they didn’t freeze.

As he returned to his wall, opposite from them, Cait and Maidie shifted around until it was wrapped firmly around them. They were bundled up, sort of.
Caz thought it was kinda cute.
And then he gave into his fatigue, eyelids drooping as he leaned over. He settled onto his side, making sure to tuck the injured arm close and avoid hurting it any further.

Exhaustion settled over his body like a blanket, plunging deep into his bones until he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to get up if he wanted to.
Not that he wanted to. He was tired. He needed to sleep.

He fell asleep immediately, as soon as he let his eyes fall shut.
It felt nice, actually.
It felt really fucking good.

Caz slept for several hours.
It was deep into the night when he woke up, feeling heavy. Groggy, as if a sack of bricks was resting on his head or something, making it hard to move for the first few moments.
He didn’t know why he woke up. Not until he hauled himself out of the leftover effects of sleep, and sat up slightly to look around.

He felt it, then.
A sharp, quick pain in his arm. He turned his head and saw Cait, teeth deep into his arm. Maidie was at their side, sniffing the injury.
He jolted, trying to jerk the arm away from the, but Cait held fast. Narrowing their eyes as they did whatever they did.
Caz felt something moving in there.
Deep in his flesh, something moving. Growing.
Kind of a horrific thought.

His heart beat out of his chest as he watched it. One thing turning into several, all of them moving around underneath his skin, all of them he could feel. They rose, stretched the flesh. Some found their way through, coming into open air.
Oddity enough, beyond the first sharp pain of the bite, and the quick pangs that shot through him whenever the burn was touched or disturbed, it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would.
Mostly, a numbness was spreading through the arm. Expanding all the way up to the shoulder, giving him a tingly sensation.
It was very weird. He wondered if it was because he was panicking or dying or if that was just the effect the mushrooms had.

The moment felt very long, but eventually, Cait pulled away and gave him a look. He breathed hard, heart still beating wildly, and sat up the rest of the way slowly. The arm didn't quite move right, it was like it’d fallen asleep. It lagged behind his brain, always very off from where he was told he was holding it.
But, for the most part, that was really it? Just some mild discomfort, a very faint pins-and-needles sensation.

Cait was giving him a satisfied smile. Didn't look like they wanted him dead. Sure as hell didn't feel like he was dying. Not in any way reminiscent of how the girl died.
So, reluctantly, he relaxed.
Weariness was already settling back in after momentarily being frightened away by panic. His eyelids drooped, and he laid back down.

Okay. He wasn't dying. He just… had these mushrooms on his arm now. Whatever that meant.
But he wasn't dying, so… cool?
He had no idea why Cait had done it. Maybe they were just going about it slower than they had with the girl.
Well. Whatever.
Nothing really to do about it now, and he was tired. Still so, so tired.

Cait stayed near him. They were cautious, but eventually worked up the courage to curl up at his side, nestled close to him. Maidie dragged the scarf over, throwing it over the both of them, and joined.
Caz was much too tired to push them away, so he just let it happen.

They all fell asleep together.

Chapter Text

Caz wasn't exactly happy with this new arm arrangement.

It had been only a couple days since these things grew all over it, inside and out, but he had very quickly grown tired of them.

He was trying to catch something, and the arm was just making it extremely difficult. Not like there was a lot of wildlife up here anyway, not nearby, at least.
He’d come upon something, a hare. But, he struggled to aim the crossbow right, what with the one arm half-asleep and moving so, so sluggishly. He also screwed up the timing, and misfired. The bolt chinked off some rocks, and the hare was scared away.

He let out a heavy sigh, trudging over to retrieve the bolt. He snatched it off the ground, with more force than necessary, on account of the irritation.
He really was feeling ticked off…

“‘S there really no better way to do this?” he asked, gesturing lazily with the arm and glancing over his shoulder. Cait merely blinked at him and flashed a small smile. He looked away with a grumble. He had the backpack on, he had too. The kids were in it, since he couldn’t carry them otherwise, and couldn't leave them alone in the little cave.
It's not like they were heavy, anyway. Not too much. And he was feeling better lately, it wasn’t so taxing to do things. His head was feeling fine now, and sleep was easier to come by, so he wasn’t endlessly exhausted anymore. His arm didn’t hurt so much either, not like it should.
He didn’t feel anywhere near as hungry anymore, either, but that was because he’d been less careful about the food than he should have. He’d started to feel shaky again, a night ago, and he’d been rather desperate to not be in so much pain anymore. Eaten more than he should’ve, which was why he was out here. Trying and failing to make up for it.
He glanced at the sky, it’d been a while since he left. And he still had nothing to show for it.

He frowned. He’d have to be a lot more purposeful about food now. They didn’t have a lot, and it ran out fast when there were three people to be fed.
He huffed, he’d ration it better. He’d been out here for a while, and he wanted to go back before it got dark. He had been doing his best to avoid being out in the open after sunset, that’s how he’d been captured before, after all.
He could come back out tomorrow, he didn’t have much better to do, being completely honest.

Caz turned around and began the trek back to the cave.
He’d gotten used to the terrain by now, enough to know where to go to get back without having to think extensively about it. Perks of the hunting experience, he supposed.

The sun sank lower, he walked largely in silence. He had to keep an eye out, and listen for anyone. The clergy people tended not to take effort to walk quietly, but he did, and he wanted to make sure he’d hear them before they heard him. Cait and Maidie were restless in the bag, but he firmly reminded them to stay in it. It was the only way they could be safe out here.

He got back to the cave, squeezing through that small entry passage. He set the backpack down, let the girls finally climb out, and then took a look at the food still in there.
Not much, he reminded himself. He glanced at Cait and Maidie.

They’d quickly begun to roughhouse after getting out of the bag. Rolling around on the ground, kicking up the scarf they slept with.
Caz smiled, briefly. Despite the circumstances.
He’d have to be more sparing with the food, he told himself. He didn't know how long the kids could go without food, and he had no way to ask them, nor did he really want to. Those church members that’d captured them, they fed them every day, hadn't they? They probably couldn't go long without it, then.
Well. He wasn't going to starve them, whether or not they could handle a few days without food. They were kids, they needed it more than him.
He’d just have to commit a lot harder to only eating to not die. Waiting until he felt like he was going to die, eating just enough to survive.
Not healthy, but there wasn't really another option. Until he could hunt successfully again, they were stuck with what they had.

He brought his good hand up to rub his face, letting out a long exhale.
He wasn't really looking forward to feeling like that 24/7 again.
Wouldn't be very nice, but he’d handle it. He’d done it once before.

The day was fading, Caz didn't leave the shelter again. It would be cutting it too close, he wasn't letting himself be vulnerable like that again, and he sure as hell wasn't endangering the kids to do it.
He fed them, and then got to work with the fire striker as the cold set in. He'd managed, in these past couple days, to find somewhere to gather wood. It wasn't quite the forest he’d been in before, it was much more sparse, but he wasn't going back to the forest.
Point was, he had found firewood, and could keep them decently warm throughout the night. Which was good, it was getting colder. Closer to winter time, which Caz didn’t even want to think about. He was stressed over everything already, he didn’t need to worry about how they’d get through a winter out here.
The kids still curled up in the scarf when they slept, Caz always watched them fuss with it. It was kind of funny, actually.

Night fell, and he settled in. He may not have been constantly exhausted, but he still ended up feeling tired by the end of the day. Such that it wasn’t very hard to fall asleep. Not that he was comfortable, and not that the cold didn’t bother him, but he was tired enough to sleep anyway.

As he laid down, he heard one of the kids approach. Felt them lean down and bump their head against his chest. He wearily nudged them away.
“Go to sleep..” he mumbled.
They hesitated, but he felt them move away. Heard the fabric of the scarf swishing, no doubt as they curled up with their sibling in it.

Sleep was dreamless, as it often was. And he woke up the next day, hours later, yet still feeling too soon.

He got to work as soon as he could, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He put out the fire, chill settling back into his bones. The kids were still asleep, so he had to wake them up in order to get them in the backpack. Not something they liked very much, but they could go back to sleep in there. Caz needed to get moving, as always. There was enough to do and a lot more to worry about.

He set out to fill up the canteens, and hunt, like he always did. He did this every day, or at least, regarding the canteens, when he needed to.
It grew to be kind of monotonous, several days would pass, and he was always doing the same thing. Only difference, he was getting hungrier. He kept feeding the kids, but didn’t eat anything himself. It was a feeling he was all too familiar with, bubbling back up in his gut, but he told himself he would deal with it. He had to.

Cait started giving him funny looks when he wouldn’t eat. They were perceptive enough to notice, and so was Maidie, but they didn’t seem to care as much. They were still wary of Caz.

Eventually, one night, Cait sat down in front of Caz and fixed him with a narrow-eyed look.
He furrowed his brow at her.

“What’s that for?”

She huffed, and held out the food he’d given her to him. Caz glanced at it and shook his head.

“Thats yers.”
Cait squeaked indignantly, and kept holding it out. Caz pushed their hand away.

“Cait, that's fer you, no me,” he said, firmer this time.

They slapped their tail against the ground and chittered at him. He frowned.

“Ye eat, i’m fine,” he said, turning towards the backpack, “dinnae need to worry about me.”
Cait matched his frown and walked over to the bag, peeking inside it as he opened it. Caz noticed and nudged her.
“Cait,” he said, “I'm serious.”

They let out a huff and turned away, going back over to eat with Maidie. He heard them chattering to each other, and wondered what they were saying.

Night fell again, same way it always did.
Caz slept again, and woke up the next morning, quick to get up and get to work. He was getting very hungry, he would probably eat today. Or tomorrow, if he could manage to wait until then.
Cait was awake quicker today, actually having to wait for him to be ready to leave before they could get in the backpack, practically dragging their groggy sibling with them.

Caz didn’t really question it, just set out to hunt, same way he always did. The sun rose, slowly, and the world woke up around him as he hiked through the mountainous territory.
He had trouble finding very much, which was to be expected, by now. And, to be honest, he wasn’t exactly confident that he’d catch something if he did find it.
Well, apparently Cait and Maidie were privy to that.

He managed to encounter another hare, and he fell silent as he aimed the loaded crossbow at it. It wasn’t a big target, and, as always, the arm was making it harder to be sure he was aimed correctly. It was wobbly, and sluggish, as always.
So he did his best, but just as he was about to fire, Cait shifted in the backpack.
Abruptly, they sprung out. Bouncing off of his arm and bounding towards the hare, which noticed her and turned to flee.
Caz lowered the bow and watched, wide-eyed.

“Cait!” he called out, taking off after them. Maidie sat by his shoulder, watching intently.

He caught up to Cait, just in time to watch them take down the hare. They sank their teeth into it, and he cringed and looked away quick enough to avoid watching the fungus thing happen again. When Cait was finished, they smiled smugly at him, and Maidie chittered happily. Caz approached, glancing at the body, before kneeling down to be eye-level with Cait.

“Fuck was that?” he hissed, “yer supposed to stay in the bag!”
Cait scowled at him, pointing at the hare. Caz let out a curt sigh.
“I mean– aye, thanks,” he conceded, “but dinnae do that again.”

Cait smiled again, and he lifted her up so they could climb over his shoulder and go back into the backpack.
Wordlessly, trying to avoid looking too closely or touching any of the mushrooms (which were fewer, this time. Probably a conscious choice, so they could actually eat it), he grabbed the dead hare and started heading back towards the cave.
Cait and Maidie were chittering all the way back, and he tried to be annoyed with them, but he couldn't keep it up. He was glad Cait was alright, more than that, he was impressed they’d killed the hare. Not so happy they seemed to be fine jumping out of the bag at a moment's notice, but he could deal with that later.

Time passed as it always did. He got back to the cave and started the fire early. Then, he grabbed the only sharp thing he really had, one of the crossbow bolts, and got to work preparing the hare for cooking.
Wasn’t his first time doing it, definitely a first for circumstance though. Also his first time dealing with something killed in such a fashion, so he had fun trying to figure that one out.

For the most part, the mushrooms were not really fused into the hare, so he could cut them out. Some, he had to cut around, but for the most part it was fine.
He did wonder if it would be edible. He was sure Cait wouldn't do anything on purpose, but they were also not the same species, and maybe she could eat something like this and he couldn’t.

Well..
Not really much of a choice, Caz decided. If it wasn't good for him, he’d just have to find out after eating it.

The meat cooked without issue, the mushrooms didn't seem to affect much.
Everyone ate that night, and Cait kept giving him self-satisfied looks. Caz chuckled and rolled his eyes. Smart kid, that one.
Even Maidie seemed a bit warmer towards him tonight, perhaps it was just good morale.

Caz felt slightly better, having eaten. Still hungry, but better.
He would manage it.

They all laid down to sleep when darkness crept in, just another night of many. Cait and Maidie huddled together, wrapped up in the scarf, as always. Cait watched Caz lay down, eyes softening. They almost looked concerned, he thought. He didn't quite know how to feel about that.

Caz was still cold, still stressed, and still hungry. He still had a lot of problems on that list of his.
But he was tired enough to fall asleep anyway, he usually was.

He felt like he slept better, though he woke up feeling really weird. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but he felt odd. And sweaty, despite the temperature.
He sat up, groggily, and only then did he notice his arm didn’t feel as numb as it always did.
He heard and felt the kids sniffing around beside him, nudging his arm, which didn’t hurt at all anymore, and he looked around.

The kids were picking things up from the ground, and, as Caz looked, he realized it was mushrooms. He glanced at his arm and found it mushroom free, and looking a whole heck of a lot better than the last time it had been.
It was scarred, but miraculously well-recovered. It moved normally now, and felt completely fine.

He looked at Cait, who smiled at him. They smiled at him a lot these days, always proud of themself. Caz smiled too, it made him feel oddly emotional.

Once Cait and Maidie picked up all the mushrooms, and piled them up by the backpack. Pausing to eat some while they worked.
Caz grimaced, he felt kind of weird about that. Those were just all over his arm, inside it, in some parts. He didn't quite know how to feel that they were eating them.
At least they had more food..?

Cait offered one to him, and he put a hand up.

“No, thanks,” he declined, “Ye eat those, I'll have something else.”

And they nodded, tail swaying lazily. Caz got up, patting their head and ruffling their fur as he walked by.

Chapter Text

Thunk!

Caz lowered the crossbow, watching the bolt hit its target straight on. He flashed a smile, he was doing a lot better without the mushrooms. He’d wondered if it was still gonna hurt to use, but it, so far, did not. He was shooting accurately as ever, and felt very good about it. Nice to know he could catch food, though he didn’t really control whether or not he got the opportunity. Still, nice to know they wouldn’t be starving anymore. If things continued like this, at least.
The food from the backpack was nearly gone, the hare’d been eaten, but the girls still had their pile of mushrooms. And Caz was feeling a lot better about the food situation now that he could hunt again.

Cait leaned over his shoulder, glancing sideways at him. He knew what they wanted to do, ever since taking down the hare a couple days earlier, they always wanted out of the backpack. Preferably through leaping out, using his shoulder as a launch pad.
Caz nodded to them, at least they were asking this time.
“Aye, go ahead. Go get it.”

So Cait did, almost instantly. They bounded out and made their way over to the dead animal, picking it up and turning to walk back.
Caz thought he might want to let them out of the bag more often, they trusted him enough. They wouldn’t run off, and it was clear they were getting sick of sitting in the backpack all day.
though , as he considered it, voices drifted in on the breeze. Caz froze, immediately snapping to attention. The voices were loud. Nearby.

Caz turned to Cait, speaking low through clenched teeth.
“Cait, c’mere.”

He saw their eyes widen as they heard it, too. They looked around for the source.

“Cait!” Caz hissed sharply, still trying to keep his voice low, but being loud enough to get their attention.
Cait started hurrying back, inside the backpack, Maidie shifted. Caz crouched down so he would be able to quickly pick them up, only–

Twang!

He recognized the sound of a firing bow, and managed to frantically scramble out of its path, just in time for it to sail by and clang harmlessly against a rock. Cait had stopped dead in their tracks as Caz glanced in the direction the arrow had come from.
Shouts reached his ears, he only saw one person now, but he’d definitely heard two people before. They nocked another arrow, but Caz whirled around and took off, so that they’d have to chase him. Cait hurried behind him, or at least he really hoped they did. No time to wait when you’re getting shot at.

Inside the backpack, Maidie moved around. They crawled out to lean over his shoulder, same way Cait did when she wanted to bounce out. Caz moved his shoulder, so they would hopefully get the idea that no, don’t do that.
“Stay there,” he told Maidie. Maidie only gave him a frenzied look, clearly not all that happy about their sibling not being here.
Another arrow whizzed by, close enough for Caz to notice it but not enough for it to be a threat. Most of the people he encountered weren’t that great with their weapons, he realized. That, or Caz was just a whole lot better than them. But still, try to hit a moving target? Not the easiest, Caz knew that. Which was why he didn’t stop for shit. Or at least, didn’t plan to.

Not until Cait let out a screech.

Immediately, Caz whirled around, fearing the worst. Though he was relieved to discover that Cait had merely tripped and fallen trying to keep up with him, it was almost instantly taken away by another arrow being fired. This one, Caz could see, was aimed straight for him.
He stumbled backwards, trying to dodge out of the way of this one, too. He actually managed it, but only because when he tried to take another step back, there was no ground behind him to step on.
His heart leapt into his throat and he scrambled to catch himself, though he was ultimately unable.
Fucking hell, Caz, how did you forget about the cliff?

Cait squeaked, rushing over as gravity pulled Caz sharply down, buckling the knee still on solid ground. It slipped off, too, and then he was falling. He didn’t see where the arrow ended up, but it wasn’t embedded into him, so that was alright. Rest of this? Not so much.

Maidie squeaked and scrambled out of the backpack, without waiting for Caz, they tried to jump back up to the cliff.
They missed.
And now they were both falling.

Caz tried to say something, but his voice was lost to the rushing air. He reached out for Maidie, but there was no way to get them closer. Not in time, anyway.
Before he knew it, he collided with rough, rocky ground, and fell further into darkness. All awareness of the world, of Maidie and Cait, slipping away into fuzzy nothing.

****

It was cold. Cold and dark, wherever he was.
Cold because it was always cold, most likely. Dark because..
Well. He had to think on that one.
Dark because… night? Was it night time?
Had the sun set already? But.. no. That didn’t seem right. It felt so early..
Dark..
He squeezed his eyes shut harder, and only then did he realize why it was dark.
Dark because they were closed.

He opened them, and immediately recoiled at the brightness of the afternoon sun, shining right above him.
He turned his head to the side to avoid looking right at it, wondering where he was. And why.
His brain was slow to catch up, get the gears turning enough for it all to come back to him.
He closed his eyes as he tried, halfheartedly, to focus. But all this did was nearly pull him back down into unconsciousness.
Nearly, thanks to Cait.

They ran over to him, or at least he assumed that's how they got here. Leaning their head down to sniff his face, and then pressing their head against his chest. Like trying to wake him.
At first, he was averse to the idea. Sleeping would feel nice, again. But then he gave in, begrudgingly, and pried his eyes open.

Cait noticed, and squeaked at him. It was kind of piercing, to his slow mind. Nearly hurt his ears.
Perhaps they noticed, because a look of concern flashed across their face.

“Cait,” he mumbled, he recalled that much, “what’re ye–”
They interrupted him with another squeak, this time softer. Caz squinted at Cait, and then sat up with a grunt. Cait seemed worried.. And why was that? Why would she be–?

The gears started turning properly, things came back to him.
Hunting, the people, the fall.. Maidie.
Shit. Maidie.

“Cait,” he repeated, “where’s yer sibling? Where’s Maidie?”

Cait just looked at him, eyes wide and worried.
Fuck, they mustve thought Maidie was with him. They’d been in the bag, after all.
But they’d jumped out.

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath.
He got up, wobbling as blood rushed into his legs. It was only then that he really noticed how sore he felt. Mildly shitty, like he’d been thrown around.
Just bruises, he decided, but still not good.
Maidie was smaller than him, more vulnerable to injury from a fall like this. He had to find them.

He grit his teeth.
He should’ve kept them with him. Not in the bag, but he could’ve grabbed them before they jumped. Held them, broke their fall.
Ah, but it didn’t matter now. He just needed to focus on finding them.

Cait trailed him, running to his side when his knee buckled. Though he managed to catch himself and promise them he was alright. Just a little battered, but that was to be expected.
He was more worried about Maidie, wherever they were.

Cait remained close by his feet, careful enough to avoid being stepped on, or kicked, but still sort of clingy. Also to be expected, Cait must’ve been scared. For the fall and however long he’d been out.
He frowned. They were probably scared to lose another parent, huh.
Or. Not a parent. Whatever Caz was to them.
Not a parent, but important. Maybe.
He didn't really know. He hoped so, though.

He got a good look at where he was, down in some sort of ditch. The cliff was sheer where he’d fallen, but sloped more on the other side. He found his crossbow, which he’d dropped in the fall, and remembered that he’d likely lost the one he shot earlier.
Great. Down to just three, with one in slowly worsening condition.

He sighed and secured the crossbow to the backpack strap, using the torn scarf. Improvised, and kind of annoying, but he couldn't carry it in his hands if he had to climb. Or carry Maidie.
Yeah, speaking of. He needed to find her.

“Did’ja see them at all?” Caz asked Cait, “ye know where they might be?”

Cait merely stared at him, same worried eyes as before, and he took that as a no.

“Right, well,” he turned around, opting to walk along the sheer cliff, around where he’d landed, because she had to be close by. Either that, or they’d gotten up and ran somewhere, which…
Well. He hoped they hadn’t.
Probably wouldn’t find them if they did, and he.. didn’t want to think about that. It made his stomach turn, so he forced the thought from his head. He would find Maidie. That, or track down that clergyman and make sure he regretted waking up this morning.

Or he might just do that anyway, if Maidie was hurt.
Definitely deserved.

But he had to find Maidie now, the clergyman could wait.

Caz kept up a steady pace, quick as he could manage, brows creased with worry as he scanned the area around him. He kept his eyes and ears open, like always, and moved slowly. Looked around slowly. Cautious. He wasn’t going to overlook them.
And it was, as he did this, that he caught a glimpse of something. Hard to tell exactly what, but it was definitely not stone.

He made his way over to it, speeding up to a jog as he got close. When he laid eyes on it, his blood ran cold.

“Maidie?” he dropped to his knees beside them, curled up in the stone and out cold, “Maidie!”
He grabbed them, gently. He could feel their heart still beating, and his touch seemed to rouse them.
He let out a breath as they woke up, eyes fluttering open. The lids were still heavy, half-closed, and the eyes themselves were foggy. Clouded with pain, an observation which made Caz want to punch something.

But he kept his hold gentle, and let go when they tried to flinch away from his hands.
Cait came over, completely silent, and hanging back like they were scared to see it. To see Maidie.

“Maidie?” Caz asked. Maidie looked at him, but said nothing.
They were at least aware enough to look. Caz leaned over to look at their head, but they pulled themself away.
Caz gritted his teeth, “Maidie,” he said, “it's okay. I jus’ need to look at yer head.”

They stared at him, trying to sit up, and relented only when their eyelids drooped and they fell against Caz’s hands. He tried to be quick about it, examining them, searching for injury.
He couldn’t see any blood, but he had no idea if Cait and Maidie even bled. Their head wasn’t bruised badly or anything, either, so perhaps it was alright. He moved on to the rest of their body, none of their limbs were broken. Sprained or wrenched, maybe, but not broken.
For the most part, it just seemed like they were scraped up from the fall. Still not great, but better than what could’ve happened.

“Okay, alright, Mads,” he said, getting his feet under him, "I'm just– I'm no gonnae hurt ye.” He scooped them up, gently as he could, and hefted them into his arms. They didn’t really move, whether or not they liked it. They merely kept still as Caz cradled them close to his chest.
“Let’s get ye home,” he said, “get ye some rest.”

He met Cait’s eyes when he turned around, and they came closer.
“They’re alright,” Caz told them, “Just easier to carry ‘em than walk on their own.”
Cait seemed to accept it, for the most part. They kept their eyes on Maidie, glancing at them every once in a while as they followed Caz through the ditch. They walked very close by, nearly leaning on his leg. It wasn't exactly ideal, but he didn't say anything. Went out of his way not to hurt them. They were scared, after all.
Caz tried to be gentle. Holding Maidie, he tried not to do it too tightly. They were awake, silent and unmoving, but awake.
He made sure it stayed that way, that they didn’t nod off. He didn't know how hurt they were, not completely, and he wouldn't know until he got a good look at them when they got back to the cave. Hopefully, anyway. Hopefully Maidie would let him.
Then he could try and help. And let them sleep, too. Do whatever he could with what he had and hope for the best.
Lot of hoping lately, huh.

Caz had been rather lost in his thoughts, which was something he quickly regretted.
He rounded a bend in the ditch and stopped dead in his tracks, coming face to face with the clergyman and a loaded bow, aimed square at his chest. Cait saw it later than him, only noticing after he stopped waking.
Sunlight glinted off the sharp head of the arrow as Caz stared right at it, and then at the clergyman.

His grip on Maidie tightened and he stepped further to the side, allowing Cait to stand behind his leg and peer out.

“So, it really is you,” the clergyman hissed, “Cameron McLeary.”

Caz held his gaze, pointedly not looking at the arrow.
“Aye, I get that a lot.”

“Lotta people looking everywhere for ya,” he remarked.

“Huh,” Caz tilted his head to the side, ever so slightly, “well, to me it just looks like one. Yer the first out here.”

The man cracked a weird grin.
“Oh, but I'm not the first, am I?” he asked, Caz furrowed his brow, “that was Anderson and Syl.”

Caz would’ve liked to not react, and, to be fair, he mostly succeeded. But it was something small, eyes narrowing, or whatever, that this man picked up on. Which was new. A lot more perceptive than the others he’d seen.

“Their bodies– at the camp, that was you, wasn't it?” it was less of a question and more of an accusation.
Caz didn't know what to say, not really. Thankfully, the clergyman liked to talk.
“You,” he repeated, “and them?” he motioned vaguely to Cait and Maidie. “You killed them, left ‘em to rot there like dogs,” he pulled back on the bow all the way, readying to fire it, “fate’d like to return that in kind.”
Caz would’ve expected the man to fire at him, but no, apparently not. Abruptly, he aimed the bow slightly downwards, so it was pointing straight at Maidie.
He fired, and Caz, without really thinking beyond his first instinct, whirled around so Maidie was blocked by his body. He felt the arrow’s impact, right in the back.
The clergyman grunted in frustration, Caz heard him nock another arrow. He crouched down, extending an arm towards Cait, who’d jumped backwards.
Three more arrows were fired as Caz got Cait into his arms, one sailed over his head, one hit his back, and the last just barely missed. Grazed his arm as it went by, tore up some flesh, but it was nothing he couldn’t deal with.
He held Cait and Maidie close in his arms and took off as soon as he could, hauling ass up the ditch. There was one more arrow fired, and it, too, ended up in his back. It stung a little more than the others, which, come to think of it, were pretty much painless. Adrenaline doing its weird shit, then, huh?

He got too far to fire at, so the clergyman, enraged, gave pursuit. But Caz was quick, had a head start, and a desperation to get Cait and Maidie to safety. The clergyman may have had the fear of god or whatever, but Caz had a fear of most things, which allowed him to run faster because he’d been doing it.

He kept running, turning sharply when he saw a spot where the side of the ditch sloped a lot. It looked pretty climbable, and it would be a quick way to lose his pursuer.

“Hold on,” he told Cait, who grabbed onto his shoulder. He had to let go of her so he could help himself up the slope. It wasn't sheer, but it was rocky and just steep enough to be hard to balance on.
Still, using one arm to hold Maidie and the other to climb, he scrambled up the slope. Rocks were nudged loose by his movements and tumbled down, in some places, shifting right underneath him. He managed to keep standing, though, and made it up. Only mildly scuffing up his palm on the way.

Down below, in the ditch, the clergyman saw him climb and paused. He nocked another arrow, pulled back on the string, but waited for Caz to stand up. When he finally did, the clergyman fired. It sailed through the air towards Caz, caught too off-guard to dodge this time, and embedded into his arm, right around the deltoid muscles.
It was the first hit that Caz really felt. A sharp spike of pain as it pierced him, followed by a weird, adrenaline-fueled numbness. Caz grunted, but ignored it and instead started running away again. The clergyman might’ve tried to climb the slope, might not’ve. Caz didn’t stick around to find out, and he didn’t see him again anyway.
He just kept running, trying to find landmarks and recover some sense of direction. He wanted to get back to the cave, and quickly.

It ended up being night when he returned. He’d been able to slow down after a while of running, but that didn’t make him any less turned around.
Though he eventually managed to get back to the familiar surroundings, it had gotten dark long before he found the cave. Such that he almost didn’t see it, and he would’ve missed it had Cait not spoken up.

He squeezed into the cave, immediately letting the backpack fall to the ground. It was pitch-dark, Caz was basically blind as he rifled through the bag’s front pocket and retrieved the fire striker.
He couldn’t see, but he had muscle memory at least. Took him a bit to find where he’d put together wood for the fire earlier, and it also took multiple tries to get it going, but he eventually did. He sighed, closing his eyes briefly, relaxing now that the adrenaline was fizzling out.
He’d made it back, and the kids were with him, sitting by the backpack. They were safe.
For the most part, anyway.

He turned to look at Cait and Maidie. Maidie remained curled up, as they’d been all day, weary and sore. Cait sat by their side, as if to watch over them.

Caz approached them, and they turned to look up at him.

“Either of ye hurt?” Caz asked them. Cait squeaked and shook their head, which Caz was glad to hear. Maidie trilled softly, and laid their head down. Caz took that to mean, “not bad, but I am fucking tired” which.. Yeah. He’d been there.
He retrieved the scarf from the backpack, but paused momentarily after scratching his hands on something sharp. He looked closer at the bag and saw the arrows embedded into it, arrowheads poking through the fabric.
As he looked, he realized they’d gotten through the bag, but never quite reached him. One had scratched his back, but that was it.

Well. Alright, then.
He was just glad he hadn’t had either of the kids in the backpack.

Finally, a little bit of something goes his way.

But, of course, there were still his arms. One had the cut, which was really nothing bad. But the other was a successful shot, and perhaps the only one, and it sure hurt like it.
But, ah, he was busy. He needed to get Maidie comfortable, so they could sleep. He’d keep an eye out, make sure nothing happened, but they weren’t badly injured. Sleep would help, it usually did.

He grabbed the scarf and set it up where Cait and Maidie slept, bunching it up in hopes that that would make it more comfortable for Maidie. When he was done, he went back over and grabbed them again, gently, and they let him. Didn't even flinch. Just gave him a look he couldn’t quite understand, but one he brushed off.

“Ye can sleep,” he said, laying them down on the scarf, "probably should.”
Cait, who’d followed Caz, squeezed in and laid down beside Maidie. They let Maidie rest their head on them.

“Both of ye, sleep well,” Cait looked at him, same worried look they’d been wearing all day. Caz tracked her gaze to the arrow in his arm, and then sighed, “aye, yeah, I'm dealin’ with that,” he told them. They frowned, and Caz sharply added, “and I can deal with it, aye? No biting me bullshit this time.”
Cait narrowed their eyes, but after taking another glance at the injury, they conceded, laying back down. Squeaking at him, which he could only assume was “goodnight.”
“Night,” he repeated.

And then he made his way back over to the bag, snatched a canteen out, alongside the torn piece of scarf, and got up to leave. He stood right by the entrance, items in hand, and braced himself. This would suck, but at least he had an idea on how to deal with it. Innes would probably kill him if he saw what he was about to do, but then again, Innes hadn’t fought to keep him around. He’d lost the right to reprimand him for anything after all that shit.
He cracked a sardonic smile.
He’d probably never reprimand him for anything again, cause he wouldn’t see him.

But whatever, Caz had, more or less, come to terms with it. He never stopped missing Suze and Billy, or the times when he could live a life that was mostly enjoyable, but he did stop thinking about them. Easy to find distractions when he was trying to care for two children, and himself.

Yeah.
Anyway. Enough stalling.
Just get this done.

He took a breath and grabbed the arrow. There were probably far better ways to do this, but he didn’t have time, tools, or knowledge to make use of the thought.
Whatever. Stop thinking and just get it done.
Just get it done.

“AGH–”
He yanked, his grip firm on the arrow. It came out, kind of easily, to be honest. But despite it being easy, it was, by no means, painless. He had to bite his tongue to keep the shout down.
He dropped the bloody arrow, grabbing the canteen instead. It was about half-full, he noticed while unscrewing the cap.

He pulled up his sleeve with one hand, and with the other, tilted the canteen. Water poured out, washing over the puncture wound. It didn't feel all that great either, but Caz wanted to at least try and clean it. The arrow was probably dirty, clergymen did not have a good track record with weapons and knowing how to own them.

When he was done with that, being careful not to waste any water, he retrieved the scarf. He wrapped it around the injury, this time able to power through the minor pain (the wonders of not being ten seconds from death, he supposed) and tie it up successfully.
Once finished, he grabbed the canteen and the arrow and brought them back inside. This was all he could do for now, so it’d have to suffice.
He placed the canteen by the backpack and tossed the arrow on the ground, haphazardly, really. He was tired and he didn't want to be up anymore.

He was quick to lay down at his spot, up against the wall, but there was apparently one more thing to be done before he slept.
Cait approached him, wordlessly curling up at his side, pressing themself up against him. Caz couldn't help but smile, and was just about to speak when he saw Maidie coming over, too. They had the scarf in their hands, and they wrapped it around themself before laying down, too. Closer to his face than Cait.

“Feeling alright to walk, huh?” Caz remarked.
Maidie gave him the same look as when they’d first got back here, only now he could understand it better.
There were a lot of emotions to it. But regret, he noticed, was most prevalent.
He didn’t quite know what to say, so he merely motioned for them to get closer if they wanted to.
Then, as they nestled close to him. He laid his head down and closed his eyes.

“Goodnight, ye two.”

Chapter Text

Caz woke up slowly, blinking several times in the warm light. He was on his back, Maidie and Cait still curled up with him.
He’d slept in longer than he usually did, on account of how late he fell asleep, most likely.

For the moment, he just laid there, content to let the kids keep sleeping while he adjusted to being awake. He would get up soon, this was comfortable. He.. wanted to stay here, for a little bit longer. It felt nice.

Ah, but he didn’t get to. He wanted to, but his resting was cut short when a sharp noise rang through the air. It jolted him, and he sat upright, waking the kids. He stared out the little passageway, ears pricked.
He cursed under his breath as voices drifted into earshot. Not quite loud enough for him to make out the words, but enough that he could hear.

Shit. That wasn't good.

He immediately turned to the kids, who were still half-asleep and laying back down. He roused them both, gentle as he could with his heart starting to pound.

“Cait, Maidie,” he kept his voice low, “wake up.”

Cait chirped, and flashed an irritated look when he shushed her.

“People coming,” he hastily told them, “keep yer voices down.”
That shut them up instantly, and also woke them up, worried eyes turning to the passageway.

Caz followed their gazes and shook his head, “they’re not here yet, but I heard them.” He glanced around the cave, eyes landing on the fire and backpack. It’d probably be good to make sure they were out of sight.
He got the backpack and brought it over to the other side of the cave, as far away from the passage as he could. They shouldn't be able to see it, not unless they were looking. Next, he got to work snuffing the fire out and kicking the remains out of sight as well.

Cait came up to him as he did, about to squeak, when the voices cut through the relative silence again. Cait stopped dead in their tracks, and Caz gritted his teeth. He finished up hiding everything, and then retrieved his crossbow and bolts from the bag.

Cait and Maidie trailed him until he crouched down, motioning for them to go sit by the backpack. They weren’t gonna like what he had to say, but, well, they’d just have to manage it.

“Stay here,” he said, “hide, okay? Dinnae let them see you.”

Maidie narrowed their eyes, tail twitching. They seemed to know where this was going.

“I’m going out there,” he explained.
Maidie huffed, and Cait frowned. Neither were fond of the idea, he could tell they’d like to go with him.
But he was steadfast, as always.

“Ye two’re staying,” he reiterated firmly, “I’m just making sure they don’t find ye. If they do, that’s why I have the crossbow,” he explained, “cannae fight them if i’m in here, no enough space, they’ll just knock me out again.”

The kids were still unhappy, but he didn’t give in. He would love not to leave them alone, but there wasn’t another option. If he stayed here, they could be cornered and end up captured again. Or worse. But if he took them out there, in the backpack, it’d be too hard to stay quiet, or move quickly.
So, he wasn’t giving in on this one, much as he’d like to.

“I'm serious, stay here.”

Maidie huffed, but Cait backed down with a nod, albeit not an eager one. They took Maidie’s hand and led them over to where their scarf lay, lazily draped over the backpack. Caz watched them, then stood up. Not wanting to waste anymore time, what with the occasional conversation from the unseen voices getting closer.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, before squeezing out of the passageway and immediately looking around. Nobody was here yet, but he could still hear them. It was hard to discern where exactly they were, but he could tell they were nearby.

He looked up, there was a rock formation nearby. He could climb up on top of it, he’d have a good view of the passageway. Good cover, too, they’d probably not be looking up. Any flying creatures around here, they’d hear before they got ambushed.

So Caz darted over to it, slipping around to the backside. He slung the crossbow strap over his shoulder and began to climb.
His newest arm injury started to flare up, radiating a dull, aching pain as he exerted the muscles. He just grunted, pushing through it. Really not another option, not out here.

He made it to the top rather quickly, actually. All things considered.
He grabbed the crossbow and loaded it, just in case. He’d need to be quick, and he had no idea how many there were. At least one, but he could never really be sure.
He didn’t want to overestimate the clergy, freak himself out over nothing, but he didn't want to underestimate Barclay either.
That man was a real piece of work.

Caz waited, and eventually, he saw two people. They came from around some corner nearby, walking into view. Clergymen, plain as day, modified robes, rosaries, and everything.
Caz looked at them, and he realized one of them, the shorter one, lengthy black hair and a bitchy look on his face, was the same man from the ditch. The other one, taller and with unkempt brown hair, he didn’t recognize at all.
As they came closer, Caz tensed, crouching down. As he did, though, he nudged a loose stone. It shifted, and rolled off the formation, clacking against the other stones on the way down.
Caz cringed and ducked down further, pulling himself out of view.

The two men paused, looking around wildly.

“Did you hear that?” The man from the ditch asked, sounding rather startled.
The other guy scoffed, “thinks that’s yer farmer?”
It sounded like a jab at the first guy.

“He is out here, ye know that,” the first guy shot back. Caz had a sneaking suspicion they were talking about him. “Ye saw Anderson and Sylvia, aye? That was him!”

“Right,” the other guy didn’t seem to take it all that seriously, “he's out here. Runnin’ around half-dead, I bet,” Caz heard a smile in his voice, “and he still kicked yer arse.”

“He didnae do shit to me,” the first guy growled, “I shot him.”
“Once.”
“Four times!”
“Aye,” the other guy was still smiling, “right, and whose head was Barclay asking fer on a pike last night?”

They both fell silent.

“..Whatever. He’s probably hiding, if he's out here.” the first guy finally said.
“True enough,” the other agreed.
“I didn't see where he went, but he did go this direction..” the man trailed off for a moment, Caz thought he might be poking around, “we can catch him if he comes down here–”
The other guy laughed, which caught both Caz and the first guy off guard.

“What’s that?”
“Jesus, Cranstoun,” he chuckled, “yer really on about this guy.”
“I- he–”
“We have a fucking mission, did’ja forget?”
Cranstoun hesitated to answer. That, or he struggled to find out what to say.
“But if he gets away again–”

“Hes a fucking farmer, Cran,” the second guy said, “we wait long enough, bet’cha we’ll find a corpse.”
“Exactly–”
“So,” he interrupted, “corpses’r easier to bring home ‘n lives ones.”
“But Barclay–”
“Will be glad to know he starved to death. Now come on,” his mocking tone melted into something more frustrated, “we don’t get out asses to the outpost, he’ll probably throw us in prison next.”

“There's plenty of time to get to Beira–” Cranstoun tried, but was stopped abruptly.
“Listen to me, Cran. Ever since that prison break, Barclay’s been on my ass. Same as you, and everyone else.”
Prison break? Caz wondered what that meant, they probably weren’t talking about his escape from Anderson and Sylvia. But then, who else?
Had the prisoners taken from Beira got out? How did they, Gibbo, Gregor, and Alex, do it on their own? Unless they had captured more than he remembered, but..

Suddenly, Caz was struck with worry.
What had been happening in Beira while he was out here? He’d never gone by, never seen anything, but this was still a war.
Shit. Suze and Billy.. were they okay?

He gritted his teeth, forcing down his thoughts as Cranstoun and the other guy continued to talk.

“And I won’t get on his bad side because you are upset you were bested by a farmer.”

Cranstoun was silent, and the other guy kept talking when it was evident he wouldn't.

“We’ve been told to go to Beira. They took the kelpie, they don’t know what we did to it,” he said. Caz listened intently, “it’ll be perfect cover, we’ll get in there unnoticed. Just like Barclay ordered.”

Cranstoun finally gave in, subdued.
“Aye, alright.”

“Good, that farmer isn’t goin’ anywhere. We can get him when we’re done.”

“I hope yer right.”
“Please,” the second man scoffed, “I’m always right.”

There was a small pause, Caz heard a sigh.

“Lead the way, Schaw.”

He heard Schaw chuckle, and then nothing else. He peeked out from his hiding, and saw them both leaving. No mind paid to the passageway, if they’d even seen it.
He glanced at the crossbow, briefly considering taking aim and shooting them both dead. He could get Cranstoun, but he probably wouldn’t reload in time to get Schaw before he found cover.
He could still kill him, but it would be more of a hassle.

So he lowered the bow, and relaxed.
He waited until he was sure they were long gone before getting down from the rock formation. Making his way back to the cave and squeezing into it.

As soon as he came back in, Cait and Maidie’s heads popped out of the backpack. Maidie trilled, and he could tell they were glad to see him alright.
They got out of the bag and approached him, and he tried to smile, but it wouldn’t go past the weight that had settled on him.
They were perceptive enough to notice. Maidie came up to him with a frown.
Caz looked at them, Cranstoun and Schaw’s conversation echoing in his mind. He opened his mouth, but it took several seconds to actually get the words out.

“..We’re leaving tomorrow,” he said, “we’re going back to Beira.”
Then he paused and corrected himself, “I'm going back, ye haven’t been there yet.”

His mind started racing as soon as he said it.
Was he sure? Absolutely sure he wanted to go back?
Whatever the church had done, whatever they were planning.. He wanted to be able to warn everyone.
He would leave now, but he didn’t want to run into any clergymen on the way. That, and maybe he wanted an opportunity to think better of it. Change his mind, make a smarter decision.

If he left, he might not even get to Beira. Or they might just kill him the second he showed his face, or, if he did get in there to warn them, maybe they would take it as further proof he was a traitor.
He’d have to take the kids, too.
Nobody in Beira would hurt kids, he knew that well enough. They could… probably give them a better home, actually.
But he still felt protective. Even though he probably didn’t need to be. The kids had been the ones saving his ass, after all, and they could take care of themselves.

Addair was quick though. And big. If he wanted Caz dead, he was probably going to end up dead.
Addair….

If it was just him, he wouldn’t go back. Just him, and Rennick, Finlay, Brodie.. Fuck, even Innes. Just them in danger, and he wouldn’t go back. They’d kicked him out, they didn’t get his help.
Or maybe that was a lie. Maybe he would, just because he’d had enough of people dying.

But anyway, it wasn’t just them, it was a fact he knew well enough.
Suze and Billy were down there, too. And other people, kids, mothers.. People who he couldn't just leave. People who didn’t deserve to die.

He needed to warn them, get them safe. The church had done something to Gregor, and we’re going to use it as cover, at least, that's what he’d surmised from the conversation.

He looked at the kids again, meeting their curious eyes.
He wanted to protect them. He wanted to protect his entire family.
He really had no one else without the kids, and Suze and Billy.

If he got back to Beira, and didn’t see them..
He shook his head. If he stayed put here, they’d be at a greater risk of death. And Barclay wouldn’t make it a quick one, it wouldn’t be the attack, or whatever they planned. He knew that man well enough to know this.

So he exhaled through his nose, and put on a resolute expression.

“Tomorrow morning,” he decided, “right after we wake up.”

Cait and Maidie eyed him. Maidie bumped their head against his leg, and this time, he smiled successfully.

He was going to find a way to keep all of them safe. If it was the only thing he could do, he would protect his family.
That was probably the one promise he would make. Now, or ever.
He usually sucked at keeping them, but not this one. He would make good on this one if it fucking killed him.

He sat down, Cait joined Maidie as they snuggled up next to him. It was far from restful, not nearly like when he’d first woken up. His mind was running, he was up, and alert.
He knew he ought to get packing, make preparations to leave. But he just needed to sit for a little bit, consider it all.
Or, at least enjoy a small, temporary comfort with Cait and Maidie.

He did his best, but eventually, he had to get up.

“C’mon, ye two,” he said, walking over to the backpack. They climbed inside easily, both moving onto his shoulder when he got it on.
He didn’t waste any more time, it was already almost after noon, since he’d slept late. He had to do what he always did, fill the canteens, hunt for food, and gather more firewood for tonight.
But now, he had to prepare to leave in the morning as well.

He let out a quick exhale again, there wasn’t a lot he would be able to do. Just make sure he could pack the food up, and all that. Most of it he could take care of in the morning.
He just felt like he should prepare. Mentally, maybe.

At any rate, he tried to force thoughts of Beira away for now. Focus on surviving, same way he always had, and deal with everything else in the morning.

He went about the day with the same routine he’d performed many times before, though taking care to steer clear of the direction the clergymen were headed. And keeping an eye out for any other ones.

Night fell faster than he was used to, but he got back home before the sun disappeared. No reason to stay out so late again, not in the dark, and especially not with clergymen walking around.
He was hesitant to start a fire, and he didn’t have much wood anyway, but he wanted to cook the grouse he’d caught.
And it was still cold, same as always.

He did his best to keep it small, and put it out quickly after he was done cooking. No reason to take any chances.

After everyone ate, Caz laid down, and Cait and Maidie curled up with him.
His mind was still running, annoyingly alert even as he was trying to fall asleep.

He couldn't stop thinking about Beira. About going back.
It’d been a long time already. He wondered if they thought he was dead.

Well, he wasn’t. He was just a bit different from the time they’d last seen him.

With more head injuries, a burnt arm (and a fucking story to tell about that one), lots of time spent starving, and only three remaining bolts.
None of them silver, at least. They’d have to pull something else out of their asses for that one.

He heaved a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut.
It took a bit longer than he’d have liked, but eventually his mind slowed down, gave into the pull of weariness, and he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

An uneasy sleep which was easy to break, he supposed.

His nose stung, some terrible, almost acrid scent clung to the inside of it. It made his eyes water as he opened them.
What was that, smoke? Not campfire smoke, not completely, but he could smell burning wood.

He looked around, it wasn’t very strong. Faint enough for him to smell, but distant enough that he knew it wasn’t super close by.
Definitely wasn’t his campfire, that’d been out for a long time.

He got up, waking the kids so he could get them into the backpack. He slung it over his shoulders, hastily, after cramming the scattered equipment and food inside of it. He grabbed the crossbow, loaded it, and hurried out of the little cave.

He looked around, hard to see much in the darkness, but at least the moon brightened things up a bit tonight.
If there was a forest fire nearby, he’d want to be careful.

He still smelled the smokey scent, and tried to discern where it was coming from.
He followed the path, slowly, trying to get to the source.

He tried not to recognize the increasingly familiar terrain. Ignore the landmarks. Ignore the general direction he was traveling in.
All up until he came to a cliff, which gave a good view of the usually quiet town of Beira.

His breath caught in his throat and he stopped dead in his tracks. The smell was powerful, he had to blink tears out of his eyes as it wafted up from the town and into his face.

His eyes snagged on the bright, blazing fire. Consuming houses and crop fields, and no doubt people, if he was close enough to see them.

Cait and Maidie peered out of the bag, shocked into the same silence.
Caz found it increasingly hard to breathe.

Too late. He was too fucking late.

Beira was on fire.

Chapter Text

Caz was short of breath, heart beating rapidly, and he wasn't even in Beira yet. His pulse pounded in his ears, and his blood almost felt icy.
He thought of Billy and Suze, caught in the blaze, and wanted to throw up.

He jogged over the terrain, making his way down to Beira. He could already feel the heat from the flames, like one, giant campfire.
He stopped when it came into view. The fires were mostly at the back of it, spreading from the crop fields, but in the dark of the night it was plain to see. Illuminating practically the entire town.

Breathing heavily, he tensed and turned to speak to Cait and Maidie.

“Stay in the bag,” he said, “I mean it.”

Cait leaned onto his shoulder, and he could see the defiant spark in their eyes, as always. He gritted his teeth.

“I'm serious!” he snapped, voice rising without his intention, “stay in there. Stay hidden. These people will kill you.” He swallowed thickly, “don’t fight, don’t get involved. This isn’t yer fight and it’s barely mine.”
And maybe it was the desperation in his voice, or just how truly scared he seemed, that made the kids back down. Nodding obediently, tucking themselves into the backpack.

He nodded, and then turned back to Beira.
He tried to get a handle on his breathing, calm down, but his body just wouldn’t. His stomach turned to the thought of going back into the town, after everything. Almost being crushed to death, and then being thrown out.
But he narrowed his eyes and shook his head, closing his mouth so he’d breathe through his nose.
He’d do this. He had to. He couldn't just abandon these people.

He held the crossbow, loaded preemptively, as he tended to do. Much easier than loading it in the moment. He was keenly aware of the feeling of the other bolts, merely two, with one nearly falling apart, tucked away.
And his arms, both injured in some way. Not to mention his head.
And the fact that he’d been eating, but eating little. Not as much as he would’ve liked, due to rationing.

So, aye.
Beira was on fire, plunged into war with the clergy. And here he was.
Three crossbow bolts, two stowaway kids, and no plan.

Ain’t a more McLeary way to do it.

So he jogged into the town, keeping his head on a swivel. It was very jarring, immediately being engulfed by heat and sound. Clashing steel and screaming, crackling fire. His nose wrinkling as it filled with the scents of iron and smoke.
It was a war, alright. All around him, people fought for their lives. Some ran, hid, and others charged the clergymen. Bodies were scattered around the ground, and he pointedly avoided looking at them.
He was too scared to. Too afraid to look and see one of them.

His appearance didn’t go unnoticed, despite the chaos. He was still trying to figure out where to go to find Suze and Billy when a voice rang out. He whirled around, face-to-face with a clergyman. He had brown hair, green eyes, from what Caz could see, and freckles dotting his face. He bore a pretty strong resemblance to Shuggie from earlier, and he briefly wondered if they were related.
And then he stopped wondering, because this guy had a dagger in one hand, and Caz remembered he was in the middle of a war.

Well, this is it, Caz.
Don't fight, you die.

He leveled the crossbow, and the man’s eyes widened in fear. He called out, and Caz heard a response. He glanced back and saw two other people running over, so he quickly tensed and fired the crossbow. It found its mark within the first guy’s chest, and he fell. Caz turned as a second person came at him, clutching a similar dagger. He stomped down hard on their foot, and they recoiled, causing the dagger to slice down on thin air. Caz swung his crossbow around and cracked it against the side of their head, hard.
They went down as well, groaning. Caz darted to the body of the freckled man and yanked the bolt out of him, just in time to whirl around and drive it into the gut of the final man.
The man grabbed his shoulders, gasping, but it was a fatal injury. He sank to the ground, and Caz tore the bolt back out, leaving him to bleed to death.

He stood, breathing hard, adrenaline coursing through him. He had the bolt clutched tight in his hand, both already stained with blood.
This was where it really sank in. Three people were dead, and there would only be more trying to kill him.

Speaking of.

He’d apparently missed the appearance of a fourth guy, who crashed into him from behind. He seized Caz’s wrist and wrapped his other arm around his throat, dragging him backward until they both hit a wall.
Caz grunted, trying to jab him with the bolt, but finding himself unable to due to the tight hold on his wrist. He grasped at the arm with his free hand, but it did nothing to ease the pressure on his throat. The man simply tightened his hold, increased the pressure, if anything, making Caz’s breaths turn to ragged, shallow gasps

He kicked his leg back, jabbing his boot into the man’s knee, but he still didn’t let go. Caz gritted his teeth, everything was sounding oddly far away. His head felt tight, far too tight around his face. It felt like it might pop if this kept up.
But amidst all that, he felt the backpack shift. He caught the barely audible gasp from his attacker, and then, abruptly, he was released. He fell forward, hands flying up to his throat as he fell into a coughing fit. To much air going in at once, especially after having none at all– fuck, he needed to calm down.

When the coughing stopped, he turned around to see what had happened. The man who’d attacked him was limp on the ground, several strange bulges beneath his skin, stretching it and making the corpse look all malformed. Caz grimaced, but recognized it immediately.
He turned his head back and saw Maidie peering out of the backpack, almost eagerly. He sighed.

“Thank you, Maidie, but what did I say about getting involved?”

They huffed, but went back to hiding anyway.
Caz turned away, looking around. This was four people dead now, and he had almost been one of them.

War raged on around him, much more tireless than he felt at the moment.
He’d almost died there, so easily. And what would’ve happened if he did? If Maidie hadn’t bit the guy?
They’d have probably ended up dead too, huh?
He frowned.
Not good. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't carry them around like this, not if he was going to be under attack constantly.
Which he was. A lot of people knew his face.
It wasn't safe for them, he wouldn’t be able to protect them on his own. Not in this situation.

He looked up.
He knew someone who could.
It was the last man he wanted to see, but Caz knew he would be his best bet for keeping the kids safe. It was all he did, in battles. Protect children, or otherwise vulnerable people.

“Fucking Addair…” he muttered, starting down the street towards the forge. If Addair was anywhere, it’d be there. It was an easy enough place to secure, and it was fortified.
Plus, Addair, for all his faults, fought very well.

He started off, picking his way towards it. Hugging walls and cover, hoping to go largely unnoticed. It was dark, and noisy, and people fought all around him. It gave him cover, sure, but it did the same to anyone trying to sneak up on him.
Well, he had Cait and Maidie at least. He was lucky for them.

Because Cait, who’d been peering out of the backpack the whole time, suddenly chirped awful loudly. Like an alarm.
At least, that’s how Caz took it.

He braced himself and spun around, holding the crossbow up, finger on the trigger.
Only to stop in his tracks at the face he was looking into. Her dumbfounded expression probably mirroring his own.

“Caz?”
Finlay’s grip on her axe slackened as she took in the sight of him. By all means, not a face she had been expecting to see.

Caz didn’t know what to say. Or do.
‘Cause yeah, it was him. The guy she treated like a criminal? The guy she threw out into the mountains? Aye. It was him, alright.

She searched his face, perhaps looking for an answer. She never voiced the question, but Caz already knew she was thinking it. Caz was often pondering it himself.

‘How the hell are you alive?’

Before any of them could figure out what to do next, someone came from behind Finlay, seemingly out of nowhere, and hit her over the head with something. It happened too quickly for Caz to see exactly what, whether or not it was their weapon. All he knew was that they hit her, knocked the axe out of her hands, and then the two were grappling.

His hold on the crossbow wavered, as let it drift downward, unsure of what he should do.
Turn and run would be a fine course of action, and to be fair, probably the most logical one. But he wasn’t very inclined, now that Finlay was fighting for her life in front of him.
Hard to hang onto grudges to people’s faces, apparently.

So he brought the crossbow back up, trying to aim, but with all the moving he couldn’t be sure whether he would hit Finlay or the clergyman.
So, he did the first thing that came to mind.

“Hey, stop that!” he called out to them, which, surprisingly, did seem to give them both a bit of pause. “You,” he locked eyes with the clergyman, “quit movin’, I’ve got it. Just hold her.”

And he did it, albeit hesitatingly. Finlay’s face flashed with fury. And maybe a bit of betrayal? Which, Caz couldn’t lie, felt kind of nice. Perhaps just a wee bit deserved.
I mean, it looked pretty damn similar to how he was feeling when he was being exiled.

“Take the shot!” the clergyman hissed impatiently, tired of holding back Finlay’s struggling.

“If ye say so..” Caz mumbled.
He locked eyes with Finlay, taking aim. It was a potent mix of emotions he saw in her eyes, same old same old. Anger, fear, disbelief. A shred of the ‘got’cha!’ look that you give someone who’s proven your suspicions right.
And he watched it all fade immediately, her eyes widening in shock as the bolt found its mark just a short distance from her face.

The bolt bent oddly upon impact, splintering as it drove itself straight through the head of the clergyman. Caz knew that one was long gone, no point in trying to salvage it.
Plain and simple, he was down to two bolts.

Caz looked around as Finlay had to support the man’s sudden deadweight. The forge wasn’t close enough, not nearly. And the streets were still full of bodies.
Traveling down here would take longer, and he’d have to fight more. He only had two bolts left, and the clergymen, dumb as they were, all had weapons of their own.
And that's when his eyes snagged on the roof of the building he was standing by. They were lined up pretty uniformly, all constructed largely the same. And they weren’t very tall, either.
He looked at the alleyway he was in front of, boxes and things all piled up. Debris scattered, due to the war and fires, no doubt.
He could definitely find a way up.

And as Finlay shoved the body off of herself, glancing at the bolt, he did. And so, when she turned around, she found him halfway up some boxes, hoisting himself onto the roof.

“Caz!” she called, “Hey– wait!”

He didn’t say anything, just glanced at her, and then was off. Leaving Finlay behind, mind racing.

He grabbed another bolt and loaded the crossbow, trying not to think too hard about the bloodstained hands and all, or the kids shifting around inside the bag. He just had to get to Addair, and then they’d be safe.
And he could find Suze and Billy then, get them somewhere safe. Go back for Finlay, too. He should probably apologize for pulling that crossbow scare. She might throttle him if he didn’t.
If she didn’t do it anyway, just for him showing his face.
And this was all assuming he even survived these next few minutes.

Addair could kill him. And there were plenty of clergymen with his face in their mind.
And, of course, Barclay.

He was a wanted man, very, very wanted.
Which was all the more reason to hustle his ass over to the forge and get Cait and Maidie to safety.

At least jumping across the roofs, while hard on the knees, kept him mostly out of sight of the people below. Not a lot of them thought to look up, if they looked around at all. He could go more than ten steps without being recognized, or snuck up on, so he was moving faster.
Plus, kept the kids safer.

He was much closer to the forge now, only to stumble to a halt. Mid-jump, a scream rang out. A voice he recognized.
He turned to find the source, and sure enough, Innes.

Someone was holding his wrists, they’d wrenched them behind his back. They had him pinned against a wall, holding him back from Muir. Who was splayed out on the ground, trapped underneath another guy’s boot. He carried a handaxe, and with his free hand, grabbed Muir’s face to tilt it so his neck was exposed.
Innes thrashed against the guy holding him, screaming desperately for Muir. For him to get up, or not die. But his grip was tight, and he couldn’t get out.

Caz didn’t really think, he just ran to the edge of the roof and levelled the crossbow. He aimed it at the man about to kill Muir and fired before he had the time to consider it.
The bolt sailed through the air, planting itself in the neck of the man holding the handaxe. It slipped out of his grasp as he crumpled to the ground, going limp on top of the startled Muir. Innes reacted similarly, mouth falling open. And the other guy was clearly shocked, looking around.
He did spot Caz, but only had time to point and shout something Caz couldn’t quite hear, because Innes took advantage of the situation. He threw his head back, slamming it against the face of his attacker. The man recoiled, hand flying up to clutch his nose, and Innes whirled around and socked him, good and hard right in the jaw.
Caz watched, but abruptly, he heard something strike the building he was standing on. Sail through broken glass and embed itself in the floor. He looked down, heard two more, and began to smell smoke.
Well, more than there already was. In closer proximity.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, he’d definitely been noticed. I mean, it was a dumb plan, he could just jump to the next roof when this building caught on fire, but..
His bolt was all the way down on the other side of the street, he hadn’t thought about it enough before shooting. He couldn’t go down there, not for the risk, and because there wasn’t a spot to climb back up.
He wasn’t getting that one back.
So he was down to one.
He stopped watching, he had to move before the building really started to burn. Last thing he needed was for the roof to collapse, probably trap him in there. With the flames.
His arm hurt just thinking about it. As if it thought he needed a reminder of how much fire sucked.

He sped up his pace, aware of the girls’ restlessness, and now worried about being shot at. If they knew he was up here, they’d probably try when they could see him. Going slow, or stopping, made shooting him a lot easier for them. It also puts the kids in more danger. The backpack wasn't a small target.

So, moving quickly, he finally made it to the forge.
He stood on the roof, crossbow loaded and his finger on the trigger. He had no idea how this would end up, but if Cait and Maidie were safe in the end, then it was alright.

Addair was in front of the forge, blocking the entrance. He had his feathers puffed out and his wings flared, and was currently fighting three people off.
Caz arrived just in time to watch him kick one of them, who’d tried to sneak up behind him. They went flying, hitting a wall with a very audible thud, and a crack to go with it. They did not get up again.
Another person took a swing at him with her sword, but he reared up on his hind-most legs to avoid it. Then, when he came back down, he lunged at her and grabbed her shoulders, rolling sideways to slam her head-first against the wall. She cried out, but jabbed her sword into his shoulder.
When he let her go, hissing in pain, she and the other person both rushed him. The other scrambled up his back, while she tried to climb around one of his wings.

Addair flapped like mad to dislodge her, eventually reaching around to do his best to pry her off. The angle was awkward, but he was successful. She tumbled to the ground, landing on her back, and he swiftly brought his hooves down on her.
She didn’t recover from that, but there was still one more person. Holding on for dear life as he bucked underneath them.

They grabbed ahold of his antlers and wrenched his head to the side, sword tight in their other hand. They held Addair’s head firmly, and brought their sword up to strike. But they didn’t get to do it, not before being struck themself, suddenly, by a bolt. It hit them in the back, and Caz jumped from the roof onto Addair.
The guy turned around as he approached, hitting Caz in the gut with the pommel of their sword. Caz avoided the blade, when it came swinging at him, and grabbed the guy’s wrist. Addair lurched beneath them, which actually helped, as Caz slammed the guy’s hand, and the sword in it, into their face.
While they were stunned, Caz reached around and yanked the bolt out of his back. They yelped in pain, gritting their teeth and getting a hold on their sword again. As Caz jumped back, they swung it at him, slicing along his forearm.
He cursed, and lunged at them. Dodging around their sword to shove them backwards, tipping them over Addair’s antlers. He got the idea, and put his head down so they would fall. Then, when they were on the ground, they got a hoof right to their skull.

Caz leaned over so his head was by Addair’s ear, so he could speak over all the noise.

“Addair–”

“Caz!?” Addair shouted, soon as he heard him. Caz winced, frowning.

“Aye, it’s Caz, I need ye t–”

Addair turned his head slightly, trying to get a look at him. Eyes wide with astonishment.
“Yer alive?!”

Caz curled his lip, irritated at being interrupted. He forcefully grabbed one of Addair’s antlers, if only to get him to quit shouting.
“Yes! Now, shut up, I’m trying to talk to ye!”

Addair didn’t say anything else, just looked at him.

“I-I need ye to watch my kids,” Addair merely blinked as he slid the backpack off his shoulders, “they’re in here.”
He handed the bag to Addair, then jumped off his back. When Addair opened it, Cait and Maidie looked out, confused. Caz approached.
“Cait, Maidie, ye need to stay here,” Maidie squeaked indignantly as he continued, “do what he says, and no biting.”
Addair furrowed his brow.
Cait fixed Caz with a worried look, and he gently patted her head.
“I’ll be back in no time.”

Then, he turned to Addair, “I’m serious about the no biting thing. Dinnae let them bite anyone.” He glanced behind him as Addair struggled for words.
“I’ll get them when this is over.”

“I-” Addair started, only to be cut off by a nearby shout. The voice that caught their attention was immediately recognizable as Raffs, and Caz turned to it. He loaded the crossbow and started to head off, but Addair stopped him.

“Wait– Caz,” he had a strange look in his eyes, mixed feelings, no doubt, “How many bolts do ye have?”

Caz, as if unsure whether or not to give him the answer, stared at him for a few moments before responding, “one.”

Addair reached into his own bag, and Caz didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly was not for him to hold out two silver bolts. Still in very good condition, much better than Caz’s now.

“Take these,” he said.
Caz did, the cool silver feeling odd in his hands as he tucked them away. They were what started this whole thing, and the weight of that seemed to physically tie itself to them.
But, at any rate, you can’t fight a war with just one bolt. Caz would probably die if he tried.

When he was done, he met Addair’s eyes again. There was a lot he wanted to say, not all of them nice things. In fact, most of them not. His chest still ached from when Addair had almost crushed him.
And, judging by the look in his eyes, Addair was feeling about the same way. A lot he wanted to say, but in the end, all that came out were two words.

“Don’t die.”

Caz gave him a long look, and then nodded.
“You too.”

And then, as Adair brought Cait and Maidie into the forge, Caz hurried off. He tried to find where the shout had come from, in hopes of finding Raffs before something happened.

His heart was still pounding, and his arm was stinging where he’d been cut. He was very, very aware of the sudden absence of the backpack. It almost made his back feel cold.
He didn't have that cover anymore, so he had to keep his head on a swivel. But, at least the kids were safe now.
Whatever happened, Caz could face it. He just needed to find Suze and Billy. And Raffs would be able to help with that, he knew Beira very well, and there was a high chance he, or Brodie, if he was there, would know where they’d gone.
He’d have asked if they were sheltering in the forge, but he knew they weren’t. Suze wasn’t the type, she’d probably enjoy the fight, at least to a degree. Always a rebel, that one. And what better way to rebel against your father than kill his army?

He kept his pace quick and his feet light, only to pass an alley and stop, turning to look inside it. He heard the sounds of a struggle from inside it, and more shouting.
Though this time it sounded more like Brodie than Raffs.

Caz moved into the alley, followed it until it opened up to a small space behind buildings. He crept down it, stopping when he came upon the source of all the noise.

Clergymen, as expected. And Raffs and Brodie, also like he’d expected.

One of them, a female, had Brodie up against the wall. She held him by the throat with one hand, and held a dagger over her head with the other. The other one, a man, was holding Raffs back by his wrists. Raffs struggled to get free, and the man, irritated, knocked him in the head with the pommel of his own dagger.
Brodie lashed his tail, hands around the female’s arm, trying to get her off.

“Raffs!” he cried out, only to be roughly slammed back against the wall.

“Do not fear for your boy, he will see his mother,” the girl said. Brodie looked at her, eyes wide in terror, and his lips pulled back into a snarl. “And if he is too far gone, then he will be given up to God. Remade in His flames.”

“S-shut the fuck up!” Brodie snapped.

“You cannot fight God,” she snapped right back, “you can only submit to His will.”

“Fuck god!”
She just looked at him, and then abruptly plunged the dagger down, towards him. His hand shot up to grab her wrist, trying to stop it.

“God does not see you. He has no place for you,” she growled, struggling against him, inching the dagger closer and closer to his eye, “nor those you lead with blind faith. The best you can do for that boy is give him up, allow him to walk in the light of God’s blaze. He has a rightful place there, but you do not, and your malice for keeping him away knows no bounds.”

“F-fuck you!” he grunted, heart pounding as she overpowered him. He looked away from her, searching for Raffs. Their eyes met, misty and terrified.
Brodie really, really did not want to die.
Who knew what these people would do to Raffs?
He didn't want to leave him alone with them.

He tried, very desperately, to get free. Survive this, somehow.
But even he had to admit it was probably useless. Made his stomach turn over on itself, but he could admit it.

Though, maybe it was a bit too soon?

He expected to be dead any second now. He did not, in fact, expect a bolt to come whizzing out of nowhere and embed itself in the back of his attacker’s head. It almost went straight through, so that the tip was poking out through her eye.

She fell limp immediately, collapsing awkwardly in his arms, and he blinked dimly for a moment, slow to process the sudden events.
He glanced at the body, dropped her, and then looked up. Only for the wind to be sufficiently knocked out of him when he saw who was standing there.

“Caz?”

He lowered the crossbow, unable to load it before the man holding Raffs let out an enraged shriek. He threw Raffs to the ground and lunged at Caz, dagger clenched tight in his hand.
Caz dodged, not quick enough to avoid it completely, but enough to make sure it didn’t go anywhere fatal. Unfortunately, the dagger was still stuck deep into his shoulder, and he couldn’t help but cry out.

The man wasn’t able to pull it back out, not quick enough, and Caz swung the crossbow at him. He hit him in the neck with it, but the man was able to recover, and lunged at him again. He wrapped his arms around Caz’s waist and pulled him to the ground.
He quickly got on top of him, bringing his fist down hard on Caz’s face. It connected squarely with his nose, and pain radiated out.
The man pulled back to punch him again, but hands came out of nowhere and grabbed him. Hauling him off of Caz, who stood up as quickly as he could. Brodie and Raffs were grappling with the man, Brodie tried to take his dagger, but the man was quick to keep his hold tight on it.

Caz reached into his pocket and took one of the silver bolts out. It felt sturdier in his hand, but also heavier. Metaphorical weight still fastened tight to it.
He quickly loaded it and took aim, waiting for an opening. The man shoved Brodie aside, and turned around, just in time for Caz to pull down the trigger, and for the bolt to sail right into his chest.

He fell to his knees and collapsed, suddenly filling the alley with silence. Save for heaving breathing.

Caz let the bow down, arm going slack, and reached over to grab the dagger in his shoulder. He gave himself a quick countdown before yanking it out, gritting his teeth as he did so. His shoulder felt warm as blood oozed from the wound, beginning to soak through his shirt. Another bloodstain to match the one on his forearm, it seemed.

He looked at the dagger and recognized it as Brodie’s.

“Here–” he tried, holding it out, only to stop as Brodie suddenly collided with him. He wrapped his arms around Caz in a tight embrace, which, safe to say, he had not been expecting.

When he pulled back, his eyes were just as misty. He had his hands on Caz’s shoulders, keeping his grip gentle with the injured one.

“Fucking hell, Caz! Yer–”

“Alive, I know,” Caz finished for him.
Brodie cracked a smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes, “I was going to say ye looked like shit.”

And, despite the circumstances, Caz chuckled at that. He took a step back, purely to start reloading his crossbow.

“Aye, well, all thanks to yer hard work,” he remarked. And it was a joke, but it still caused a pang of guilt to roil in Brodie’s gut.
He brought a fist to his mouth before speaking, like he was trying to keep his cool.

As Caz bent down to pull his bolt out of the man’s chest, Brodie tried to speak.

“Caz, I’m—”

Caz stood with a sigh, meeting his eyes again.
“Lets.. lets no do this now,” he said, “still in the middle of a war.”

Brodie flattened his ears, and nodded.
“Yer right.”
He looked away, gaze traveling over the two bodies. His eyes landed on Raffs, and he walked over. He crouched down, pulling him into a similar embrace. Raffs hugged him back, very tightly, like he was afraid to let go again.

“”M sorry, Raffs,” he said.
Raffs shook his head, “no, I am.”
“Dinnae be,” Brodie closed his eyes, “it’s no yer fault. I’m just glad yer alright.”

When they pulled away, Brodie stood back up, keeping Raffs close. He found Caz loading a bloody bolt into his crossbow, now having recovered the two he killed the clergymen with.
When he was done, he turned to the path he’d taken to get back here, peering out.

“Getting worse out there,” he remarked, turning back.
Brodie nodded, “most’ve us went to the fields, stop the fires.”
Caz furrowed his brow, eyes drifting downwards, but he didn’t say anything.

“Ye have my knife,” he continued.
Caz glanced at his hand and realized he’d been carrying it around. He shifted it in his hand to extend the handle to Brodie, who held his hand up. “No, keep it.”

Caz gave him a puzzled look, watching as Brodie bent down and snatched the rosary dagger from the corpse of the girl’s hand. He examined it.
“She’s got a fine one. Has no need fer it anymore,” he looked at Caz, “rather I use this and have ye use mine than let ye fight with just those.” He motioned vaguely to the crossbow.

“What about Raffs?” Caz asked.

“I’ve got this,” he said, holding up his boot knife.

“Aye, alright,” Caz gave a curt nod.

“Did ye see Addair, Caz?” Brodie asked.
Caz glanced behind him, “aye, I did. ‘S at the forge.” He decided not to mention the kids. That was a long story, and one he could tell them all later. “I think he’s alright.”

“Good, but he won’t be fer long,” Brodie said, “with everyone in the fields, town’s clearing out. More of the clergy are comin’ in. I- t-they’re stretchin’ us thin here.” Caz’s frown deepened as Brodie talked. When he was finished, Caz tucked the dagger into his pocket and got a proper hold on his crossbow.

“Well, then we cannae let ‘em get in,” he decided, “get to the fields and make sure they dinnae come through.”

Brodie didn’t seem enthusiastic about the idea, “that’s a dogfight, Caz.”

“It's the only option,” he was steadfast, “either we fight there or somewhere else, but we're fighting anyway.”

Brodie glanced at Raffs, and put on a resolute expression.
“We’re with ye, Caz.”

Caz didn’t expect such a statement to hit so hard. If anything, it was really just words. But for some reason, in this moment, he had to blink to clear his eyes.
He turned back down the alley, “lets go, then,” he huffed, “kill as many of those cunts as we can on the way.”

Raffs and Brodie, after voicing their agreement, followed him out of the alley. Back in the street, the warm, blazing light of the fires washing over them, they kept their eyes out and heads low. Brodie and Raffs held their daggers while Caz kept his finger on the crossbow’s trigger, the way he always did.
It wasn’t hard to know where to go to get to the fields, with the blaze and the noise with ever-increasing volume. They weren’t far from it, and they were only getting closer.

It didn’t take long to find some clergymen, a group of four with their weapons already drawn. Caz fired immediately, bolt cutting through the air and striking one of them in the shoulder. He dropped the crossbow, knowing he wouldn’t have time to load it, not as the clergymen charged at them.
He pulled the dagger out of his pocket and held it, exchanging a glance with Brodie.

They stayed together, Brodie keeping Raffs especially close. One of the clergymen split off from the group, turning to fully charge Caz, who jumped backwards to avoid their sword. He moved to the side and darted past them, raking the dagger across their arm.
They cried out, a mix of pain and frustration, and rounded on him. He dodged a punch and swung his own fist at them, connecting with their jaw. They stumbled and fell over, head snapping to the side from the impact.
Another one of the clergymen, the one he’d shot before, came at him, trying to grab him from behind. But he ducked down so they overshot it, jamming his shoulder into their gut. He tipped them over and it brought the both of them to the ground. Before the man could recover, Caz got on top of him and held him down, pinning his arm on their throat.

And then, as the first guy he’d attacked got back up and lunged at him, he grabbed the crossbow bolt, still stuck in the second guy’s shoulder, and tore it out. He swung it at the first guy and it gashed their thigh, tearing through the artery.
He lost balance and fell, landing about halfway on top of Caz, and mistiming his swing so the sword merely nicked him. Still hurt, but it could’ve been a lot worse.

The second guy was not quite dead. He was getting there, but apparently still had a bit of fight left. He reached up to swat at Caz’s face. Pull his hair and scratch at his eyes. Really just desperate attempts to get him to let go.
Unsuccessful, of course.
Caz managed to get the bolt out of the first guy’s leg and stab the second guy in the neck.

And after that, the only problem was the fact that he was struggling to push the first guy’s deadweight off of him. Leaving him functionally pinned between the two corpses. Which was.. not really a thought he enjoyed having.

He was lucky enough, though, that Brodie and Raffs approached him before anyone else did. After, he assumed, killing the last of the clergymen, they hurried over. Brodie pushed the guy off of him and helped him up.
Caz let out a cough, and thanked him.

“Sure, Caz,” Brodie gave him a slight smile, “didnae realize ye’d need it so bad.”

Caz rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively, wincing as a sharp ache spread through it. He looked at Brodie, noticing the torn ear and blood dripping down his face. He frowned.

“Ye alright?” He asked.
Brodie nodded, then grinned, “are you? Mr. Corpse Sandwich over there.”

“Oh, fucking hell, Brodie,” he groaned. Though he couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he shook his hurt wrist out, must’ve bent weird when the guy fell on him. “But I’m fine.”
He glanced at Raffs, picking through the corpses’ pockets. He seemed alright, just a bit scraped up.
They were doing pretty good, all things considered.

“That's four down,” Raffs commented.
“Aye,” Caz stared at the bodies, narrowing his eyes, “aye, let's keep moving.”
“Good idea,” Brodie agreed, breathless. Fatigue was setting in. For all of them, much as they’d like to ignore it.

Caz especially felt it, he hadn’t been eating regularly in weeks, and the injuries were adding up. He caught his eyes going out of focus, sometimes, and he had to remind his adrenaline-wracked body to keep awake and keep moving. For the most part, nothing in particular was hurting. Because everything was, to a degree. And his clothes were stained with blood in multiple places, various degrees of dry and from a variety of different people.
Brodie didn’t look so great either, his fur matted and dusty. His eyes were tired, everyone’s eyes were tired, though. Even Raffs’.
Everyone was tired, and still, they continued on. Heading towards the first, fighting whoever they came across. There were more clergymen the closer they got, enough to where their pace was slowed significantly, with them just trying to get a breath between fighting. There was once where Caz had been stabbed, nearly run right through, though he was lucky enough to avoid it. After the clergyman was dealt with, he fell onto his hands and knees, heart pounding impossibly fast. His throat burned and the air he took in didn’t feel like enough.
Brodie approached him, helped him up. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and his torn ear had been made much worse, so bad that blood completely stained the side of his face.
And still:

“Right, up ye get, Caz,” he panted. He helped Caz wrap the wound up, at least to stop the bleeding. It’d gone through his side, straight through, and thankfully avoided anywhere fatal.
He’d asked if Caz was alright, even tried to do an extensive check, but Caz promised he was fine. That his swimming head and mild nauseous feeling was nothing to be concerned of. Because it really wasn’t. Not where they stood now.

Raffs had been injured, too. A bad gash along his back, and he winced when he moved.
And still, they kept going. Breathing hard, their arms and clothes beyond bloodstained, holding their weapons so tight their hands shook, they kept going.

And finally, they made it to the fields. The air crackled with heat, Caz could feel it on his face as if he were in it. Impossibly hot, and so, so bright.
God, it looked like everything was on fire. There wasn’t a water source anywhere but down below the cliff, and they didn’t have enough people who could fly down and bring it back up. For the most part, they just tried to prevent the fire from spreading further, and even that was a losing battle.

It was as they watched the flames, horror and some degree of awe painted on their faces, that an arrow whizzed by. It flew right past Caz and thunked! into the signpost beside him.
He whirled around, pulling the crossbow up. He fired as soon as he saw the target, before they could fire on him.
Only, the impact sent them tumbling backwards, right into the blaze. And it was as Caz cursed because realized he wasn’t getting that bolt back, that arms came out of nowhere and wrapped around his head. A hand clamped over his mouth and someone wrenched him backwards. Though they both fell as Caz kicked his legs back, hitting the person in the knee.

Brodie and Raffs immediately rushed over, only for Brodie to stumble back as an arrow stuck itself into his arm.
Suddenly, several more people appeared. All armed, and all part of the clergy.

Caz struggled to pry himself from his attacker’s grip, but his eyes widened and he stilled for a moment when he heard the man speak.

“Get those two!” he hissed, “this cunt’s mine.”

Caz narrowed his eyes. It was the bastard from the ditch.
Cranstoun, right?

He immediately went back to struggling as the other people swarmed Brodie and Raffs, surrounding them. He got the hand off his mouth, managing to lean forward enough to grab the dagger he’d dropped. Cranstoun moved his arm to his throat and yanked him back, but Caz gritted his teeth and swung the dagger blindly behind him. He connected, and Cranstoun screeched in pain, releasing Caz.

Caz scrambled to his feet, turning around and holding the dagger out. Cranstoun was holding one eye, and glaring at him furiously with the other.

“Fucking cunt!” he shrieked, charging immediately. Caz braced himself and drove the dagger forwards, only for Cranstoun to dodge it and collide with him. He brought them both to the ground and tried to get on top of Caz, grappling with him, attempting to pry the dagger from his hands. They rolled over each other, until Cranstoun got a good enough grasp on Caz’s wrist to force it to the ground, using his other hand to punch Caz in the face. He did it again, and again, until Caz finally managed to drive his knee upwards into Cranstoun’s gut, making him falter. He surged upwards, throwing Cranstoun off of him.
Cranstoun cried out as his leg brushed burning crops, smoke choked the air, and Caz only realized now that they had rolled into one of the crop fields. Not far, but enough to be too close to the fire for Caz’s comfort.

He contemplated going back to Brodie and Raffs, but then Cranstoun grunted, and he thought it would be better to finish him off first. No more sneak attacks.

He pulled a bolt out, but didn’t load it, no time. Plus, he’d probably lose it if he shot it anywhere near this fire. He’d already lost one, and he was trying to keep them for as long as possible.

He charged Cranstoun, this time, stabbing at his side. Though he hit, Cranstoun grabbed his shoulders before he could pull away and dragged him back onto the ground. He shoved Caz away, and Caz winced as he brushed the flames. The pain was quick but lingering, and very much enough of a reminder as to why he didn’t want to be in here anymore.
The scent of burnt plants filled his nose as he scrambled to get up, only to be kicked hard in the ribs before he got his feet under him.
Cranstoun grabbed the bolt from his side before Caz could, tearing it out, definitely intending to kill him with it.
But Caz was quick. He grabbed the second bolt from his pocket just as Cranstoun came down to stab him. He quickly drove it as deep as he could into the existing wound on Cranstoun’s side, which made him falter enough for Caz to snatch the first bolt from him, grab him, and use his legs to hoist him over his head, tossing him back into the flames.

His screams cut through the air as he was engulfed, but they faded relatively quickly. Caz guessed his heart had given out.

He got up, winded, and stumbled swiftly out of the burning field. He found Brodie and Raffs standing over multiple bodies, ragged and dirty. Brodie turned and spotted him, shoulders sagging with relief.
He was going to say something when the last of the group that had attacked them came up from behind him, hatchet raised above her head, readying to strike.
But before anyone could react, there was a rush of air as something swooped over them. Almost too quick for Caz to register, Addair swooped low over Brodie and the girl, grabbing her and hoisting her up into the sky with him. She dropped her hatchet on a reflex, and Brodie narrowly avoided it falling onto his head as he, alongside everyone else, turned to stare wide-eyed at Addair.

She struggled against his hold, and he quickly dropped her. She hit the ground, and he dove down, landing right on top of her before she could even get up. There was a lot of audible cracking, and Brodie grimaced.
But besides that, no other sounds, and no other sneak attacks.

“Addair, “ Brodie breathed.
Addair looked between the three of them, expression serious as always.

“Archie got me, says Rennick’s askin’ fer all hands on deck,” he explained.

“What about the forge?” Raffs asked.

“Locked it,” Addair answered, “Gibbo’s in charge of it now. No many people in the town anymore, lotta bodies, though,” he eyed their bloodstained clothes.

Brodie looked around, and then nodded.
“Right, then, let's get to Rennick.”
Raffs was quick to agree, but Caz hesitated. He still had one thing on his mind, above all else.

“Are Billy and Suze here? I need to.. I need to find them.”
Everyone turned to look at him. Brodie narrowed his eyes, mumbling their names.

“Billy and Suze..” his eyes eventually went wide, then flashed with fear, “Billy and Suze– Shit!”

Caz stiffened, clenching his fists at his sides. It was like his heart jolted, the way he suddenly felt so much more alert.

“What?”

Brodie turned to face him, eyes wide and worried.

“Billy and Suze– they went to go get the guards!” he approached Caz, flexing his claws, “I said i’d catch up to them– fuck!”

“Brodie–”

He grabbed Caz’s shoulders, his voice coming out oddly firm in all his panic.
“Barclay went after them, Caz.”
Caz’s breath hitched, it felt like his heart stopped.

It took him a bit to get enough sense to say something, his mind dulled by the revelation.

“Where did they go?”

Addair spread a wing, motioning to the side with it.

“Down that way, it’ll take ye there faster. Cuts right by the fields, though,” he explained.

But at that moment, Caz didn’t really give a shit where he had to go. The fire wasn’t even a concern anymore, he just needed to find Billy and Suze. Get them safe.
He opened his mouth to say something, thanks, maybe but his mind was racing so fast it came out rushed and slurred.
“I-i’ll be back.”
And, without another thought, he turned and ran where he’d been directed. Fingers tight on his crossbow, white-knuckling the damned thing like he was trying to choke it to death.

Addair, Raffs, and Brodie watched him run off. They needed to go help Rennick, if the fire spread any further, Caz might not have a town to bring Suze and Billy back to.

Brodie turned back to Addair and locked eyes with him. They exchanged a nod, and then he grabbed Raffs’ hand.

“Come on,” Addair mumbled as the pair climbed up onto his back. He didn’t complain, even though he wasn’t exactly a huge fan.

“Let's go,” Brodie said. And Addair quickly spread his wings and lifted off. As they flew towards Rennick, Brodie glanced back in the direction Caz had gone.
His throat felt tight with all the things he wanted to say, and he resolved, though begrudgingly, to do it when the war was over.

“Ye get yer fucking ass back here quickly, McLeary,” he whispered, voice carried away by the wind.

Chapter Text

Caz’s legs hurt, his breaths went in and out with a raspy quality to them. The air was tinged with smoke, and the heat from the fire beside him was stifling.
Sweat dripped down his face, mingled with blood and dirt. Probably did look shitty. Probably worse than shitty, to be honest.
He was also alone again. He felt it, physically felt the lack of anyone beside him. After being with Brodie and Raffs, it was a significant downgrade. He’d actually forgotten how much he hated being alone.

He didn’t even have Cait and Maidie now. It was better that way, he knew, but still. He’d gotten used to the backpack. Or at least having the weight of them on his back.
And after he’d had to give that up, he’d found Brodie and Raffs. Fought with them. Gotten used to having them.
And now he had nobody.

He kept up a brisk pace, his hands and fingers were starting to cramp up from holding the crossbow so tight and in the same position for so long. He followed the path he’d been pointed down, finding it mostly narrow. Pinned between the blazing fields and buildings, sparks jumping in the air beside him.

At one point, as he got closer to the edge of the town, the fires had jumped from the fields to the buildings. Char and ash were heavy in the air, one building had basically been destroyed before either going out on its own or being put out. The roof slanted, caved in completely in one spot.
As Caz walked by it, stepping carefully, he coughed into his elbow. It smelled terrible, tasted worse, and he fixed his gaze steadily on the cliffs as they stretched out before him.
The buildings came to an abrupt end, but not before Caz nearly jumped out of his skin, shouts echoing suddenly on the wind.

He turned around, narrowing his eyes. He could hardly call himself glad to see a bunch of people pursuing him, even worse that they were all armed and far outnumbered him. He didn’t get an exact count, didn’t care to look long enough for that, but it looked to be about five. Maybe six? Seven? Definitely no less, because he just wasn’t that lucky.

Caz muttered a curse under his breath, turning around and speeding up. The ground got rockier, less even, and sloped upwards. Sharply, at certain points. Cliffs and peaks stretched up in front of him, reaching into the sky. He paused, picking out the winding path he’d seen once before, when he’d been shown around the town. It wound up around a steep cliff, to a ledge. The guards had a little outpost up there, he’d been told, it had good visibility. That's probably where Suze and Billy were. Barclay, too.

He moved to continue up the mountain, only to be stopped, mid-step, by a burning pain that spread through his calf. He stumbled and fell over, grunting. He looked at his leg and found an arrow sticking out of it. Alarm surging through him, he reached back to yank it out. He stood, wincing, to look down the path. The clergymen were still on his tail, getting closer, except the one who’d pulled out her bow and fired the arrow. The rest of them seemed to have spread out.
He turned to run again, and this time was stopped by someone barreling into him. They crashed to the ground, the both of them, and the man was quick to wrap his hands around Caz’s throat. But he grabbed his crossbow and shoved it up against their ribs, firing the bolt. It almost went all the way through the body, because of the close proximity, but the back of it snagged between two of the ribs. The man collapsed to the side, dying pretty quickly.
Caz kicked him away, retrieving the bolt, the feeling of blood gushing onto his hands getting oddly familiar. He stood, again, this time finally able to keep moving. Though his remaining pursuers were far too close, they’d closed the distance quite a bit.

He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head, and kept running. He just had to get to Suze and Billy, get them safe. He just had to get up there.
Outrun these people if he could, fight only if he had to.

He still had two bolts, he was running low on energy, but when wasn't he? He had enough to get to Suze and Billy, surely. He had enough to protect them.

He entered the winding part of the path, where rocky walls rose up on either side of him. It was eerily similar to the passageway he’d been kidnapped in, so he wasn’t exactly surprised when he heard rocks crunching behind him. He sidestepped to avoid the swing he heard coming, and kicked the person’s knee sideways, sending them falling to the ground, off-balance. But another person rushed him, stabbing a dagger into his arm.
He hissed in pain, kind of starting to feel more annoyed with it than anything. He slammed the crossbow into their face, then turned it and aimed at the person behind them. The bolt sailed right into their chest, and he dropped the crossbow in favor of the bolt in his pocket. Just like always, they’d gotten too close to him for him to have any time to reload.

He didn’t get to use it, though, as the person he’d kicked, female, really dark hair, swung her leg at his ankle. He tripped over her foot and his own, crashing to his knees. And a third person, with gray, bristly hair, swung mallet-thing at him. It cracked hard against his head, snapping it backwards, and bright spots flooded Caz’s vision. Like liquid light and heat, pouring over his eyes. He blinked rapidly, digging the heel of his hand into one of his eyes and scooting backwards.

The gray-haired man stood over him and lifted the weapon again, but Caz kicked him hard and scrambled to his feet as he doubled over. The second guy, the one he’d hit with the crossbow, short brown hair and freckles, had also gotten up. So had the dark-haired girl.
Caz rushed the girl, shouldering her into the wall and knocking her head against it. The gray-haired man shouted something he didn’t quite catch, and lunged at him. Caz jabbed the bolt into him, nowhere fatal, but somewhere that at least hurt enough to throw him off. He kicked the man away, then stabbed the man with brown hair when he, too, came at him. He faltered, and Caz tore the bolt out and raked it across his throat. Tearing it up, leaving him choking on his own blood. He fell to his knees, and collapsed awkwardly onto his side.
Two down, now. And two more soon.

The girl recovered from her head injury and punched him in the gut. He recoiled, and she delivered another to his chest, right about where the presumed fracture was. She shoved him away from her, and he stumbled into the opposite wall. The gray-haired man took another swing at him, which he narrowly avoided, however he wasn’t so lucky with the girl. She grabbed the bolt from the first dead body and pulled it out, retching, slightly, at the feeling. Then, she raised it over her head and plunged it into Caz’s back, twisting it around so it’d go in deep.
She gave him a breathless, cruel smile, “silver for monsters.”

Caz gritted his teeth and threw a punch at her, it managed to connect, but not where he’d planned. Still, she jumped back, and Caz reached around to pull the bolt from his back. He grunted, and let out a weirdly guttural cry, completely out of his own control, as he stabbed the gray-haired man through his eye.

The girl gasped, “Bachchan– fuck!”

Caz tugged the bolt out and rounded on her, letting Bachchan flop unceremoniously onto the ground. He immediately charged her, anger roiling in his gut because he was just so sick of it. Sick of all of this, really. Why did he have to do this? When he just wanted to protect his family? Why did he have to go through all of this?

She tried to stab him, but he caught her hand and yanked on it, pulling her close and spinning her around so her back hit his chest. He plunged the bolt deep into her gut, and she let out an odd mix of a yelp and a wheeze.
She fell onto him, and he let go of her.
Four down. If he was in any way accurate with his estimation from before, that left one or two.

He grabbed the crossbow again and loaded it, crouching down so he could rest it on his knees because his hands were shaking too much. His eyes kept unfocusing, eyelids drooping low until he pried them back open. He gave his head a shake to hopefully get himself alert again, but it really just made it swim. He was still sweating, but it wasn’t hot anymore, he was just tired.
Really fucking tired.

He pressed his lips together in a firm line, still struggling to load the bow. He knew he had to get moving, and fast, but he didn’t want to be caught off guard with no weapon ready for protection.
But then a chill bloomed on one hand. He thought maybe he’d hallucinated it, at first. But no, he felt another one on his head. And some more, on his back.

And then it picked up, and he realized they were raindrops. He looked up, blinking water from his eyes.
It was raining, and from the way the clouds looked, it would be raining hard.

With a grunt, he forcefully loaded the crossbow and stood, stumbling as his knees buckled slightly. The rain took no time, soaking him through. It washed the blood from him, at least. Some of it, anyway. His hands, as he looked at them, were still stained with red. A whole heck of a lot of it, too.
He was never really going to forget that image.

Caz took a deep breath, chest rising and falling. His heart was pounding, and he didn’t feel all that great. The familiar pang of hunger hit him, nothing so bad yet, just a gentle nudge from an empty stomach. But still, when had he last eaten? Even more than that, when had he last eaten good?
All this movement and exertion.. he groaned. He really needed to eat when this was all over. And sleep in a fucking bed for once. Nice and warm… he’d practically sink into it. It would feel so much better than the fucking cave.

He sniffed and wiped his nose with a drenched sleeve.
They could kick him back out of they wanted, but not before they let him take a fucking rest. After all the shit he’d just done for them? They could give him a couple days to sleep. And eat something.

And he wouldn’t be alone in it, if he slept in the bed. He would be in the middle this time, Billy could certainly deal. He’d bury his face in Billy’s feathers, and Suze’s arms would be wrapped around him. He’d be able to feel each of their heartbeats, if he focused enough. And their chests would rise and fall at the same time.
It’d be very nice. Nice and warm.

He smiled wearily. How comforting, to think about.
But as it stood now, he was alone. Cold, and hungry, and very tired. And Suze and Billy were up there somewhere, and he needed to find them.

He exhaled, putting on a determined expression again.

He held the crossbow, joints protesting as they returned to the long-held position. He hurried down the path, forcing himself to move quickly even though all he wanted to do was just take a minute. Sit down, close his eyes.
But he didn't have a minute, and Suze and Billy might not either.

He sped down the path, getting closer, until, of course, he had to stop again. He slowed, furrowing his brow. There was a man in front of him, tall, with white hair on only the sides of his head. He had a bow, prepared to pull the string back if he needed, and locked eyes with Caz. Caz caught his lip curl, it was brief, but the disgust was incredibly evident. To Caz, at least.

“Look here, Cameron,” the old man said, “I'd like to avoid a fight if we can.”

Caz wrinkled his nose, tensing his trigger-finger. He didn't believe that shit for a second. The church all wanted him dead, Barclay had probably yelled to them about it more than once. Caz knew how badly Barclay wanted to get his hands on him, he wasn’t gonna fall for any “peaceful” bullshit. So he tilted his head down and hardened his gaze.
But the man only gave him a patronizing smile.

“I know yer tired,” he crooned, “I know ye don’t want to keep this up, and I mean, I also know ye can’t.”
He cocked his head to the side, “so I say, drop yer weapon and come with me.”
Caz almost laughed at that.
“We’ll get ye patched up, even get ye a bed to sleep in, eh?” he smiled, “won't that be nice?”

Caz rolled his eyes and raised the crossbow, letting himself give the old man a callous smile.

“Y-ye know how many people I jus’ killed?” he asked.
The old man frowned, his forehead wrinkling as he furrowed his brow.
Caz cocked his head to the side, “one more ain’t gonnae hurt me.”

And he fired. Before the bolt hit, the old man was able to call out to some ‘Grant’. But he still went down.
Unfortunately, the ‘Grant’ that had been named was indeed a person. Probably a partner? Caz wasn’t sure.
All he knew was that he jumped down from the ridge above Caz. They collided, ending up in a tangle on the ground.

“Fucking dick!” Grant bellowed, grabbing his face. He lifted Caz’s head and slammed it into the ground. Caz groaned. Head trauma was becoming a much too common experience these days.
Caz slipped the bolt from his pocket, because luckily nobody cared enough to notice it there, and plunged it into Grant’s wrist. Gant reared back, crying out in pain.
Caz got out from underneath him as he busied himself with prying the bolt out, eyes blazing with fury as he tossed it away. It clanked against some rocks and settled down the path, too far away for Caz to retrieve.
So he quickly ran to the old man’s body, wrenching the bolt out, and then froze. He heard a voice echo from somewhere up above, a loud one. A familiar one.

“Barclay,” he mumbled, realization dawning on him. He was close, just up on the top of the cliff. At the end of this passage, where the outpost was.
And Billy and Suze would be with him.
Billy and Suze… he didn’t hear them, and his stomach flipped. He needed to get to them. Get them safe.
The rain had probably put out the fires. Or slowed them, at the very least. Beira would be safe, soon, and he could bring them back.
Only if he hurried, though.
So he took off, sprinting down the path, leaving the old man and Grant behind. Though Grant doggedly pursued him, he was able to keep ahead, adrenaline once again pumping through him. The sensation was starting to almost feel normal, he was getting used to it. He’d been jolted awake by fear or something else so many times by now.
Yeah, he was getting used to it.

But it gave him tunnel vision. He didn’t pay attention to the rocky walls, which, to be fair, would not really be anyone’s instinct in this situation. But still, all he was thinking about was Billy and Suze, and he paid for it.

He was able to keep ahead of Grant just fine until he passed in front of a crevice in the wall. Because suddenly, a man launched himself out of it. He plowed into Caz, and a sharp, hot pain erupted from his side. The man, who had blond hair, graying from age, drove him into the wall. The dagger in his hand plunged into Caz’s side, all the way to the hilt, which drew an agonized, throaty wail from him.
The man, while Caz was reeling, wrestled the bolt from his hand and tossed it aside, twisting the dagger he already had. Caz grabbed into his shoulders, arms shaking as he tried in vain to push him off. His breath was short and came in shallow, uneven gasps.
Everything started to feel cold. The fire in his side turned icy, but the pain remained sharp.

The blonde man gave him a grin, and Grant finally caught up to them. He let out a laugh, sudden and quick, and his eyes gleamed with triumph.

“Nicely done, Dunbar!” he said.

“Not very hard to do right,” Dunbar responded. Grant flinched at the slight, frowning.
He turned green eyes back to Caz, who couldn’t draw in a good breath to save his life. The rain soaked them all, and he began to shiver. Something about blood loss. Probably. The rain did its best to wash everything away, but Caz doubted he retained any healthy amount in his system, especially with all the injuries.
He even felt lightheaded.

“Well, he’s a slippery bastard,” Grant growled, “Loudon’s dead.”

Dunbar frowned, however he seemed more.. Disappointed? Like the fact was merely a let-down.
He clicked his tongue, “well, as God willed it.”

“As God willed it,” Grant repeated with a nod.

Caz fought hard to keep his eyes open. He probably would’ve passed out by now if he wasn't thinking about them. Suze and Billy. He was always thinking about them.
They were up there, with Barclay. He needed to get to them. Needed to keep them safe.
If they were gone then he had nothing. He had to save them. Protect them. He had to get them back. He had to.

But to do that, he needed to get free. And he couldn’t stab his way out now, so he did the first alternative option that came to mind.
He went limp. Let his hands slacken on Dunbar’s chest, let his head list awkwardly to one side, eyelids drooping. It was a real gamble, but it paid off.
Dunbar relaxed his hold on Caz, thinking him dead. Or just about there.
And he might’ve been, but he had enough energy to get to Suze and Billy, and thus, get rid of anyone in his way.

So, as soon as Dunbar relaxed, Caz surged forwards. He used all the strength he had left to throw Dunbar off of him, following him to the ground and wrestling the dagger from his hands. He couldn't suppress the wail of pain as he pried it from his flesh, but he pushed through it, if only to get to Suze and Billy. He raised the dagger above his head and brought it straight down, right into Dunbar’s head.
Grant screeched, and flung himself at him. Caz scooted off the body and rolled backwards, snatching his bolt from the ground, and jumping to his feet, his side screaming in protest with every movement.
He didn’t care, though. He just needed to get to Suze and Billy.

Grant stumbled, and almost tripped, over Dunbar’s body and balled his hand into a fist. As he threw a punch, Caz sidestepped to avoid it, and drove the bolt into his flesh. He gasped, going still for an odd moment, and then his body sagged and his eyelids drooped. Grant fell, and nearly dragged Caz down with him.

Two down. Again.
So that was about six?

Caz panted, doubling over and wrapping an arm around his torso, holding his side. It was feeling colder as he lost more blood, which was probably not normal.
His head was swimming, it felt like it was full of water. And rocks, maybe. His eyelids felt so heavy.. But, fuck. Fuck– he needed to get to Suze and Billy.
They were up there, with Barclay, he needed to get to them.

So, he turned down the path, holding the crossbow bolt limply in one hand, and he kept moving. He stumbled, dragged his feet. His entire body felt like it moved when he breathed, like it was all shifting. He ended up hugging one of the walls, leaning on it several times. Using it as a boost to keep moving.
Just get to Suze and Billy, he thought. Just get them safe.

And finally, he made it. He stood, hunched over. One arm on the wall, supporting himself so that he could stay standing. And through unfocused, blurry eyes, he saw him.

Barclay.

It’d been a while, really, since he’d seen the man. Suze’s father. It’d been a while.
And he couldn’t say he was happy to be seeing him again. Especially not like this.

Barclay stood over Billy, who was sprawled out on the ground, blood staining his feathers. He was unconscious, and so was Suze, who laid a little ways away, slumped against the rocky wall. The sight of them both made him freeze, made it feel like someone had grabbed his heart and just squeezed it. Tight as they could.
He couldn’t breathe, for a minute there.

Barclay raised his sword over his head, and his words drifted over to Caz, carried on the breeze.

“When I became a priest,” he said, voice gruff and ragged. He sounded tired. “I swore to rid the world of darkness. Swore to protect good people from monstrous things like you,” he growled, disdain evident.
Caz tensed as Barclay stomped down on Billy’s back, pinning him to the ground. Not that he would be able to move, anyway. He wasn't conscious.
His nerves were on fire. He was so tired, but his brain screamed for him to act. Do something. Protect Billy. Keep him safe.
Just keep him safe. Keep them both safe.

“And now, God grants me the chance to make good on my promise,” Barclay continued, eyes wide, gleaming with something wild. “Go back to the shadows from whence you came, foul beast, and never set foot on His earth again.”
He tensed, poised to bring the sword down, teeth clenched together.
“You will rot with the rest of them,” he spat, “I hope y–”
But he didn’t get to finish.

His sentence cut off, fizzling into an abrupt, gurgly gasp. His eyes flicked to the side, only to be met with Caz’s. Half-lidded and blazing as he thrust the last bolt he had, the silver one, deep into Barclay’s throat.

He dropped the sword, knees buckling as he struggled to breathe. He fell to the ground, and Caz went with him. Everything hurt. He couldn’t stand up anymore, it was all he could do to brace himself on Barclay.

Barclay’s eyes closed, he died with a long, strangled wheeze. And silence filled the air where his words used to be.
Silence, save for the pattering rain, and Caz’s own, shallow breathing.

It is fading very quickly. The energy.
He looked up, eyes landing on Billy. His chest rose and fell, still. So did Suze’s.
They were going to be alright. They were safe, he’d protected them.

And now, he had no strength to keep his eyes open. He felt sick, his eyelids were so, so heavy. Rain drenched him completely, and his body ached and stung all over from injury after injury. All compounding one another, leaving him dizzy and feverish.

But Suze and Billy were safe, at least. That's what he’d wanted.

He was glad they were safe, he really was.
Now he’d just like to hold them. Take them back to Beira.

Oh, but he couldn't stand. He couldn't even hold himself up anymore.

He reached out to Billy, trying dimly to speak.

“Bil..”

But the name died on his lips, he was shutting down. His eyes rolled back into his head and his arm gave out.
He collapsed over Barclay, and gave into darkness immediately. He had no strength to fight, and no reason.

Billy and Suze we’re safe.
That's all that mattered.

So he surrendered himself to the darkness. He could.. He could talk to them later. He just needed to sleep.
He just needed some rest.

And it was in this darkness that he sat, too weak to fight.
And it was in this darkness that he heard voices. Vaguely, and they were so far away… but still, he heard them.

“They’re up her–”

Archie.. was that Archie?

“--et up!”
Sounded like Rennick. He sounded angry, too.
Fucker was always angry..

“Caz–”

Oh… far too many people speaking now. He couldn't tell who was who, and he was too tired to look.

“Caz! Caz, can you hear m–”

Was that… Brodie? That sounded like Brodie..

He was aware, on the edges of his consciousness, of being lifted up. Of the voice that was probably Brodie getting a wee bit closer.
But he wasn’t completely aware of it. And too tired to be.

“--ust hang on! We’ll get ye back to Beira, just hang on, Caz!”

..sure. He was too tired to argue now.
Sure. He’d hang on.

But he needed to sleep first.
And he did, finally.

Sank into darkness until there was nothing left to hear. Nothing left to be aware of.
And he could just sleep..

Chapter Text

Caz had been asleep for a long time.

They’d brought him back to town. Brodie held him while Addair carried them all back through the rain.
They’d found Innes as quick as they could, and he’d taken Caz into the clinic. They’d cleaned him up, bandaged what they could, and set him in one of the beds. An isolated one, in its own room.
And all through it, he didn’t wake up. Didn’t make a sound. Barely moved and barely breathed.
Just slept. Comatose.

And it’d been several days.
Suze and Billy had been brought back, too, but by then they’d awoken.
Not Caz.
He was just…. Sleeping.

Submerged in darkness, still so tired despite all this rest. He was barely aware of anything, and he made no effort to be. All he tried to do was sleep.

Several days. Almost a week.

Nights were sleepless for all but him.

And Caz let it happen. He made no effort to swim up. No effort to awaken. He had nothing, really, to do it for. Nothing more important than sleep.
He just wanted to sleep.

Until, at some point, sounds came to him. Hooves on floorboards, and fabric shuffling. Muffled by the dark water he sank in, but he still managed to hear them. Enough.

Things put their weight on the bed, two things. Small things.
They crawled over to his face, bent down to sniff him.
They squealed and trilled, one climbing on his chest, the other laying on his shoulder. They kept sniffing him, nudging him.

He was barely aware of it, but aware enough. On the edges of his consciousness, he recognized them.

The kids..

He should get up. What was it, morning now? He.. he didn't know how long he’d been under here. Under this water.
He probably needed to fill the canteens. Go catch some food. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t do it forever.

Hooves on the floor again, retreating.
The kids still squeaked.

And Caz swam up. Gritted his teeth and hauled himself out of the water.

And when he opened his eyes, he was greeted with soft afternoon light shining through a window. A room that looked a lot like someone’s bedroom.

He groaned, a sluggish, clammy feeling washing over him despite the warmth in the air. Slowly, as he woke up, it all came back.

First the pain, and then the memories.

And then he saw the kids. The redder one was sitting up, their face right by his. Eyes wide and kind of shiny. More so than usual.

“Mh..” Caz groaned, trying to pull their name from his foggy mind, “thas’... Cait.. right?”
He smiled when they did, tail wagging side-to-side.
“Right.. An’ yer Maidie,” he said to the other one, who lurched forward to bury their head in between his shoulder and neck.

He winced, but managed to keep the smile.
Then, someone spoke.

“Fucking– yer awake!”
And then Addair’s ears drooped and he cleared his throat.

“I-I mean, sorry. A-and sorry fer.. Bringin’ them, Caz,” Addair said, awkwardly looking at the ground, “I-I just.. well, they were goin’ mad wantin’ to see ye.”

Caz squinted at him, nodding slowly.

“‘S fine..” he laid his head back, “thank ye for.. Protecting them.”

Addair nodded, then frowned again.
He was hesitant to ask the question on his mind, Caz would probably not be happy about hearing it come from him, but he forced it out anyway.
“Are you alright?”

Caz frowned, trying to recall everything that happened. He remembered passing out, at least, and some of what happened before.

“..how long has it been?” he asked, ignoring the question.

Addair glanced out the window, “‘bout a week.”

Caz let out a breathy chuckle, at that.
“Fucking hell… no wonder I feel like shit.”

Addair cleared his throat, “‘f it helps, ye look a lot better than ye did.”

Caz nodded, wincing again. He glanced at his hand. It was clean now, the blood was gone, that must’ve been fun for whoever did it.
“Yeah..”

Addair shuffled his hooves, turning back to the door.

“I’ll.. i’ll go let Innes know yer awake. ‘N get ye something to eat.” he grabbed the door handle, but before he left, Caz called out to him.

“Get.. get Suze ‘n Billy too, aye?”

Addair nodded, “I will,” and then left. Caz was still astonished he could fit through doors like that, but suppose they had taken his size into consideration when building the clinic. And most buildings.
Doors tended to be very wide here.

It was a while that Caz was just sitting in the bed, with the kids. They curled up on him, on either shoulder. He didn’t really mind it, but he was still tired, and considering going back to sleep when the door opened again.

Innes came in, eyes wide and flashing with relief when he saw Caz. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Shit, Caz,” he said, “ye alright?”

Caz sighed, he was probably going to get that question a lot.
Still, he answered.

“I feel.. Fine. Tired, I guess. And sore..” he shifted his position and gritted his teeth. The pain was duller, but still there. Had they given him something?

Innes frowned, coming to his side.
“Aye, I bet,” he remarked, “didn’t exactly come here in peak condition.”

“I know,” Caz huffed.

“Did a real shit job out there, ye know? That one ye had wrapped up on yer arm was nearly infected,” he clicked his tongue, “ye didn’t even clean it.”

Caz scowled at him, “right, well, what was I supposed to do?” he asked, “come down here an’ got you?”
Innes stiffened, inhaling sharply. He looked away.

Caz’s gaze softened, “‘m fine, I lived,” he said, “got back here just fine.”

Innes shook his head, “I'm aware, ye dinnae have to remind me.”
He sounded upset. Caz’s frown deepened, he hoped everything was alright.

“Is... is everything okay with you and Muir?” he asked. He hadn’t stuck around after firing the crossbow, and he didn’t really know if Muir survived.
Innes gave him a hard look.

“He’s fine, thanks to you.”

Caz didn’t know why he was so upset.
And then he thought that, perhaps, Innes wasn’t really angry with him.

He didn’t get to do much else with the thought, because the door opened, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw who came in.

“Caz,” Suze breathed. She looked tired, too. They all did.
But he was glad to see she was okay. More than anything, he was glad to see her again. Safe, like he’d promised.

His brain felt like it was moving oddly slow, but he managed to say her name.
And that made whatever had been holding her back dissipate. Innes scooted away as she ran over to him.
Cait and Maidie got out of the way, and Caz sat up.
Suze almost fell onto him, wrapping her arms tight around him. She said his name a lot, sounded almost like she was crying.

Caz hugged her back, and he tried to speak to her, but his voice broke. He held onto her, tight, and buried his face in her shoulder. Her hair.
And little hiccups turned into sobs as he held her. She didn’t really mind, though, she was crying too.
She was just glad to see him alive. They all were.

When she pulled away, she held his face in her hands, using her thumbs to wipe the tears from his cheeks.
He smiled, probably the biggest one he’d done in a while.

“Yer okay,” he said, voice wavering.

Suze nodded, sniffling.

“Aye, aye, I’m okay. And.. and you,” she almost hugged him again.
“Dear god, Caz,” she whispered, frowning as she held him. She’d been so worried she wouldn’t ever do it again, “what happened out there?” she looked at the many bandages wrapped around him, and even that didn’t begin to cover all the injuries, “Wh-who did this? I- I thought–”

But she didn't get to finish the thought. Caz grabbed her face and brought their foreheads together, closing his eyes.
“I-I’m alright, Suze, I’m okay. That's… that's all that matters.”

And she nodded, wrapping her arms around him again.
Caz smiled, for once, it all felt okay.

Brodie and Innes stood in the room, watching them. Billy hadn’t come yet, Archie had gone to go get him. Rennick was standing just outside, listening from the hallway.

But for now, it was just them. Just Caz and Suze in the world. Just them.
And that was alright. That was all Caz really wanted.

They could deal with everything else later, for now, Caz and Suze were safe, and that's all that mattered.