#this one took a heavy beating from losing my beloved dog of nearly 15 years

[catsafarithewriter]

.24. the protection of laughter

He pulls Haru out of harm’s way, and the final attack of the cockatrice’s death throes miss her. Its dying wails saturate the air and he can feel her shaking.

“Did it work?” she whispers. There’s something akin to hysterical relief bubbling at the edge of her words. “Did we kill it?”

There’s violent hissing, which shifts into the hiss of rapidly-rising steam. They both recoil as the stench of burnt flesh passes them by.

“I believe so,” he says.

A pause lingers between them. His arms are still wrapped around her from hauling her away and at this proximity he can feel the frenzied beat of her heart.

“Do you think Toto will be okay?”

“It merely turned him to stone,” Baron assures her. “I expect he’ll be a little sore, but nothing fatal.”

“For a moment there, I was sure we weren’t all going to get out.”

She misses the silence from Baron.

“Quick thinking back there,” she adds, her mind jumping from one moment to the next as she tries to make sense of the last terrifying five minutes. Fear has rendered a few memories unaccounted for, and all she’s left with is a vague collection of hazy images. “Although, it seems a little awkward if it’s own reflection kills it. How did it drink without dying?”

“Very carefully, I imagine,” Baron replies.

“Right.” The worst of the shaking has subsided now, and she still hasn’t moved away from him. He wonders if she has forgotten. And then she relaxes into his hold and that thought vanishes. “Thanks for saving my butt back there.”

He chuckles, and he hopes she misses the tremor in his voice. “Hardly how I would have phrased it, but you’re welcome.”

“You’re just out of touch with modern vocabulary, old man,” she teases, and he feels the ghost of a laugh tickle her lungs. She tilts her head back to meet his green gaze, and her eyes fill his vision. There are times he can barely believe she’s real and it fair steals his breath away. “Shouldn’t we be getting going? I believe we have a very cranky crow to find.”

She starts to rise, and he tightens his hold around her. She falls back against him with laughter on her lips. “Baron?”

He keeps his back to the wall he’s leaning heavily against. “Not just yet.”

“You know that if we don’t find Toto before Muta does, Muta is going to draw silly faces on Toto, right?”

“I have no doubt.”

“And you’re still okay to stay here a moment longer?” She doesn’t move to rise again though. “Are you really prepared to deal with the hell it’s going to raise once we get back to the Sanctuary?”

He’s glad in that moment that she can’t see his face. “I think I can risk it.”

“Fine. But you’re dealing with it, not me. I had a hard enough time trying to convince Muta not to bake Toto into a pie after the blue paint incident.”

“If I recall correctly, you got roped into helping Muta return the favour with green paint.”

She laughs then, and he savours the sound. “Glow-in-the-dark green paint, actually. Toto lit up the Sanctuary for a good month after that.”

Numbness creeps along his spine, winding down from the wound along his back. He already can’t feel his legs. The breath catches in his throat and it dawns on him that he’s actually afraid.

“Yes, I remember,” he breathes. Has it always been painful to breathe? “We had to cover him with a blanket for the Bat Kingdom case.”

“I didn’t realise it was going to stay on for so long!” she defends, but the giggles soften her plea. “Hey, but it was better than Muta turning him into pie, right?” She leans her head back and once again he is captivated by those eyes. “Don’t tell me you never got dragged into their fights.”

It’s an invitation to share, and he briefly wonders if he has enough strength left to tell a tale or two. He keeps the pain from his eyes and fights for a returning smile. “Once or twice,” he admits. “Especially in the early days. Toto once managed to convince Muta that there were two of me in the Bureau.”

“No.”

“Oh, yes. I spent a week performing rapid wardrobe changes to keep up the ruse.”

The numbness has stolen his arms and he can barely feel the laughter as it erupts through her. “I guess that explains how you managed to change clothes so quickly back in the Cat Kingdom.”

“What do you mean?”

“You took the time out of saving me so you could change out into that fancy dress disguise. Don’t think I didn’t realise.”

“We still escaped in time.”

“Barely.” She rests back against him and now the paralysing poison is spreading across his lungs. He battles to keep his breathing steady, to hide the truth from her for a few more precious moments.

“But,” she continues, gentler this time, “you did save me in the end. So I think I’ll overlook any unnecessary dramatics. Plus, you did look dashing in that costume.”

Another flash of beautiful brown eyes are thrown his way and the urge to kiss her flitters vainly across his mind. He feels the years he’s wasted dancing around his love for her now aching keenly in his soul.

The poison finishes pooling through his lungs, and his next breath doesn’t come. His chest spasms and his throat makes an ugly croaking noise when air doesn’t come.

He watches those soft eyes turn sharp with horror, and Haru peels herself free from his weakening grip.

“Baron? Baron!”

A momentary respite grants him a solitary breath and the pain briefly lessens. Enough for him to realise he’s collapsed into his side.

The wound. The wound is visible now, he thinks. Confirmation comes in the form of a hitched sob in Haru’s throat and light hands brushing across the gash running between his shoulder blades. He would recoil from it if he had the strength.

“Why didn’t you... Baron, why didn’t you tell me...?”

No.

She’s crying now; he can hear it in her voice. His heart aches from more than the encroaching poison.

“No use,” he manages. “No cure for cockatrice venom. We both know that.”

“No. There has to be something we can do! Magic or a trick or medicine or... or something. We have to... you can’t...” She clings to hope while her words become increasingly fractured. “Not like this... You should have told me-”

“I didn’t want... to stop you laughing,” he whispers, each word painfully formed on airless lips. He finds a smile and it settles across his mouth and eyes. “I can think of nothing else I’d want to listen to in my last moments.”

She laughs, obligingly, but it’s a bitter, tearstained sound. “You weren’t meant to die yet,” she says. “I had things I wanted to tell you. I thought... I thought I had time. We had places to see and things to do. You promised me dinner, remember?” A hiccup catches in her voice as she fights the sobs. “And I was going to sneak you into the cinema. You’ve never seen a 3D movie, you said. And... and the Star Kingdom. You were going to take me there for New Year’s. You said the sky looks like it’s... it’s made of...”

“Diamonds,” they chorused together.

His own smile wavers. Words cannot tell how proud he is of this young woman. “Well, that’s the trick,” he says. “You do those things anyway. You make dinner and you go to the cinema and you visit the Star Kingdom and... eventually... life finds a new normality.”

“But, without you-“

“You’ll be fine,” he promises. “Because you’re strong. And you heal. And that is the way it’s meant to be. You cannot grieve forever, Haru.”

“I’m gonna grieve for long enough,” she replies. “It’s gonna hurt for long enough.”

The poison takes his sight and now he can feel the paralysis shadowing his mind. Haru is right; they had both assumed they had all the time of a mortal lifespan. It had never occurred to him that he would be the first to leave.

And all that wasted time...

He doesn’t know who says it, but the words linger between them. Words that should have been said years ago. But it was too late now. Far too late.

“I love you.”