Novacaine

Caedes felt Mariah’s hold tighten, like she was accepting his grief for what it was in this moment. He was imploding. Her words, steady and filled with a determination to understand, cut through the fog of his despair. He shuddered, the raw pain of his confession still reverberating within him, but he could feel her support wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. It made him want to open up, to let her see further into his soul. Could he let that happen?

“Mariah…” he began, his voice a whisper, struggling against the weight of his emotions. These things he never let be seen by others. He drew a shuddering breath, his chest heaving as he fought to steady himself. He sat up now, eyes falling down to his bloodied paws still covered in dried afterbirth and blood. His massive body, usually so imposing and strong, seemed to collapse inward, his shoulders slumped and his head bowed as he spoke.

“Aurelia… She is… She was my… my friend? She was volatile, and callous, and no one got along well with her. She picked fights. She spoke her mind. She was… a healer. She was careful and kind when she needed to be. She… pierced my ears with your gift. We talked… about methods and theories to test. I respected her, and maybe I was the only one that did.” He lurched forward and clutched at Mariah as if she were his last anchor to reality, his claws gently digging into her fur, afraid to let go.

He was silent, the memories, the emotions that came with them almost too painful to continue. But Mariah’s steady presence gave him the strength to go on. He had to explain, or maybe he never would. “She came to me after laboring for so long on her own. Two stillborns, countless hours. She came to me so weak and so desperate. I helped her, but she was much too weak after. I gave her drugs to ease the pain, because she was in so much pain. She was so tired. But she loved her children, I could see it in her eyes even if she could barely hold them open.” At this Caedes’ voice cracked again, as the memory of Aurelia being unable to sit to greet her newborns flashing through his mind. Oh god what could he have done? She would have died, but what if she wouldn’t have? If he had stopped Sephiran, maybe she would have lived for her children. “When he came for her, there was nothing I could do. He tortured her with her own dead pups. He… he was just on her, stabbing her, cursing her. I was paralyzed, Mariah. I watched as he tore her apart. I watched him destroy everything she ever was. I failed her, and I failed her living children.” His body trembled violently, his breath hitching with each word. His tail, normally held high as a symbol of his pride, lay limp and motionless against the bedding.

He looked down at her, with emeralds so broken and dull. His gaze met the sincerity and concern in her silver eyes. “There is no excuse. I will never forgive myself. I stood there, and let her die. I could not think. I could barely feel. My vision, my senses, they failed me. And I failed her.” His eyes, once sharp and fierce, were now dull and glazed with tears. He didn’t bother to mention the thread Sephiran had given him, about him and Mariah. There was no point, and even now he did not want the woman embracing him to think he’d froze due to fear.

He held her closer, finding a small measure of peace in her closeness even in the circumstance. His body slowly began to relax, the rigid tension easing as he allowed himself to lean into her, trusting her to bear some of his weight. “I am so sorry. I am not the man you thought I was. I am broken, I was born from brokenness, and I will remain so.” What did he expect? He didn't know. He just couldn't stop the waves of self-hatred from swallowing him.