Just a pinprick, they'd said: not nearly painful enough to arouse suspicion.
She buried her face in the crook of his neck. Feeling rather than hearing his hum of amusement, her gut twisted painfully as warm palms glided over her shoulders and settled high on her back. She'd hate herself forever, she thought numbly. His pulse jumped under her mouth when she pressed a hard kiss to the side of his neck. She already hated herself.
The silence spanned a full minute before her superior clucked his tongue impatiently.
"Do you understand?"
The question shocked her out of her paralytic state, but she didn't answer, instead staring firmly at the ground. This was surreal.
She jumped when a heavy hand settled on her shoulder. A sigh.
"I… I didn't think it would ever resort to this, and I agree the course of action that has been decided upon is cruel." He sounded genuine: this was painful for him too, she realised.
It didn't make her feel any better. She felt as if her connection to the ground had suddenly been severed, as if she were slowly floating away into darkness.
"But we cannot risk doing nothing."
She knew: she got it. They needed to seize this opportunity before it was too late.
He held out a single dart. Hair-thin, the end was wrapped in white paper. It was all she would need. Slowly, she reached for it.
He asked again:
"Do you understand?"
Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head to stare deep into the empty eyeholes of the mask.
"Does it matter?"
She drew back a little, curling her fingers into his shirt and closing her eyes so that she didn't have to look at him.
He twitched once, clearing his throat quietly.
Her face curled up into itself as she tried to contain her emotions. Tried to stop her eyes from burning, tried to stop that heavy lump from forming in the back of her throat. She pressed her forehead to his chest and she felt him twitch again. And again.
His fingers jerked against her back as he shuddered against her. He began to tip backwards and her arms, faster than lightning, snapped about his torso to hold him to her. She squeezed. Her chest felt as if it were about to cave in on itself.
When he choked on a gurgling cough, the first of her silent tears dripped into his shirt
The shaking slowed to an occasional shiver, and she couldn't do it any more. Her arms pulled him against her, keeping him upright, snaking about his body and up to cup his face. He didn't fight her and she wondered with a stab to her gut if it was already over. She raised her eyes.
He was staring at her. Not full of hatred or betrayal, or spilling with unspoken accusations. It wasn't even sadness in his eyes. What could he possibly be feeling, if not those? It dawned on her then that it was comprehension, and her heart broke in two.
How could he possibly understand, while she still did not.
She watched his throat bob as he swallowed and his face tighten as he tried to mask the pain. And she jumped in surprise when one of his fingers brushed the back of her neck (how had he managed to keep an arm raised?).
He hushed her then, muttering soothing nothings under his breath.
She stared up into his glassy eyes in utter bewilderment. His face was blurred, and she blinked furiously to clear her vision. She needed to see him clearly. Her trembling fingers spread over his cheeks.
Then she kissed him, as best she could manage with tears and snot dribbling unchecked down her face, trying to ignore the tang of blood she could taste seeping through the seam of his lips. Her hands steadied his face against hers and a soft wail caught in her throat as she felt him slacken.