Chapter Text
The battlefield was finally quiet.
The stench of smoke and iron still clung to the air, but the roars, the clash of steel, the screams—those had faded into silence. Only the sound of ragged breathing and the faint crackle of dying fire remained.
And Lloyd was on the ground, sprawled out like a disarded doll, his chest heaving as though every breath was stolen from him. He blinked up at the dark sky, vision hazy, forcing himself to scan the field for movement. For survivors. For anyone he had to save.
His gaze blurred, but a familiar voice cut through the fog.
“Master Lloyd…” Javier’s voice trembled, closer than he realized. A shadow fell over him, then warmth—strong arms scooping him off the cold ground.
Lloyd chuckled weakly, though it came out more like a cough. “Yeah, what is it? What’s wrong?”
Javier swallowed hard, holding him tighter as if afraid he’d vanish. “You… you’re hurt. And I let it happen…”
“Nah, I’m fine.” Lloyd waved a shaky hand, grimacing as pain shot through him, but still forcing that crooked smile. “See? Still intact. Both legs, both arms. No holes in the torso. That’s practically a miracle for me.”
“That’s not the point.” Javier’s jaw clenched. He brushed strands of sweat-damp hair off Lloyd’s forehead, his touch gentler than his voice. “You’re trembling. Even if you aren’t pierced through, even if you’re still brething… you pushed yourself beyond what any human should.”
Lloyd laughed softly, though the sound faltered halfway. “I’ll be good as new in just a few… days? Maybe. As long as I don’t collapse like I did back in Cremo.” His words trailed into a shallow gasp, the kind that made Javier’s heart stutter with fear.
“Stop.” Javir’s voice cracked like splintering glass. His arms tightened, desperate, almost crushing. “Stop pretending. Your body—your whole body’s shaking. You can’t lie about this.”
“I’m fiiine.” Lloyd’s sigh was tired, like a man playing a part for too long.
“No, you’re not!” Javier’s voice tore out of him, raw and aching. His forehead pressed against Lloyd’s temple, his shoulders trembling. “You’re not fine. You’ve never been fine. And it kills me—watching you smile like nothing hurts, just so people won’t worry. Just so you can send them away. Don’t you see? It hurts more to see you fake it than it does to see the blood.”
Tears spilled, hot and unrelenting, soaking into Lloyd’s hair.
“Hey, don’t cry…” Llyod whispered, his voice breaking in its own way. With trembling fingers, he reached up, brushing Javier’s cheek. His thumb caught the tears, clumsy and tender. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I just… can’t stand seeing that face on you. So please, don’t cry. If you do…” His breath hitched, shuddering. “…if you do, I’ll start to think I matter that much.”
“You do.” Javier’s reply was immediate, fervent, shaking. He caught Lloyd’s hand, pressing it against his own cheek. “You do matter that much. More than anything. Please, I’m begging yu—stop putting yourself in danger like this. And even if you can’t stop… then stop pretending you’re okay afterward. Just let me see you. The real you. Let me carry it with you.”
Lloyd blinked, stunned into silence by the weight of the words. His lips parted, but no excuse came. Just a quiet, broken laugh that melted into the curve of Javier’s shoulder.
And for once, he let himself be small in Javier’s arms.