The Medical Bay was packed with people. Most of Roarhaven had been injured or worse in the events of the day and those who had escaped unscathed were there to see their fellows who had not been quite so lucky.

Saracen Rue groaned quietly and shifted in his bed. Until recently he had been going through the incredibly unpleasant process of having most of his bones healed and breathing through a respirator, and quite frankly he had preferred that. It had been less painful, although the treatment that Doctor Synecdoche had provided was certainly helping to alleviate some of the pain. Darquesse really did pack a punch.

Looking around the room, Saracen's eyes fell on one man in particular, a man he would know anywhere, an unconscious man attached to a life support machine with a halo of golden hair spread out on the pillow.

"Mr Rue, stay in your bed!" A young doctor came rushing over as Saracen tried to get to his feet. Saracen ignored him and made his way unsteadily over to the bed next to his own.

"Is he..?" Saracen couldn't bring himself to finish the question.

"We think he'll pull through, but we can't know for certain," the doctor replied, "We're doing all we can. Hopefully it will work and he'll wake up just fine. Now, would you get back into bed? Standing here won't affect how effective our treatment is."

As much as he wanted to stay by Dexter's bed and remain as close as possible, Saracen agreed numbly and climbed back under the covers. He would live. This was Dexter Vex they were talking about. No matter the odds, Dexter would survive. He had to. Saracen couldn't bear to have to mourn for the only one of the Dead Men he had never lost, the one person he cared about most in all the world.

"Ugh, finally," Saracen groaned several hours later when Dexter opened his eyes dazedly. "You're boring when you're unconscious, you don't laugh at any of my absolutely hilarious jokes." Despite his demeanour, having Dexter awake sent waves of relief over him. This was a lot more reassuring to him than simply lying there and praying silently to every god he could think of. He was fairly sure he had even prayed to Freddie Mercury at one point when he'd been running out of gods. But none of that mattered now. Be it thanks to Jesus, Buddha, Freddie Mercury, magic science or just plain luck, Dexter was awake. Saracen sent out a silent thank you to whoever or whatever had answered his prayers.

Dexter blinked several times, catching his bearings. "Are you alright?" was the first question out of his mouth.

Saracen could have laughed, or kissed him, or both. Dexter was in pain and almost certainly had no idea what had happened since getting possessed, but he still checked on Saracen first.

"Me? Oh, I'm grand. I can breathe and move again now, that's always nice."

"You can-"

"Darquesse. She dropped a wall on me." Dexter's eyes filled with concern and he looked as though he were about to speak when Saracen held up a hand to silence him. "Like I said, I'm fine now. What about you?"

Dexter sighed and rubbed his face. He sat up slightly and winced, arms curling protectively around his torso. "I feel like I've had someone beat up my insides, but I can't remember a thing after the remnant attacked me."

"In a way, you have had someone beat up your insides, apparently."

"What? How?"

Saracen explained everything that had happened to Dexter while he listened, wide-eyed. "But you need to ask Valkyrie, of course. She was there."

"Valkyrie. Darquesse! What's-"

Saracen cut him off once more. "It's fine. Everything's fine. We won." The city was in ruins and there had been casualties, yes. But Dexter knew just as well as Saracen did how wars work, he'd expect that. The important thing was that they had made it through in one piece, although far from unscathed. There was no such thing as an unscathed soldier, after all.

It took less than twelve hours for Saracen to get bored of the Medical Bay, even with Dexter awake nearby. "I'm bored," Saracen whined for what must have been the millionth time. "Aren't these doctors supposed to stop me suffering?"

"I know you're bored. Everyone in here knows you're bored, because you say so every two minutes. And I don't think boredom is a medical condition, Saracen," Dexter replied with a grin. Though he still needed pain treatments, Dexter was recovering remarkably quickly and was much more alert than he had been before. According to Doctor Synecdoche, he should be ready to leave in a couple of hours when they had the results of some final tests. They had to be sure that there was no permanent damage done from having a Remnant quite literally torn from his body.

As for Saracen, he'd be ready to leave after one final check up. But the Medical Bay was remarkably under-staffed and other people with more pressing needs seemed to be taking precedence. Objectively, Saracen understood. They needed the doctors' help more than he did. But that didn't stop him being really, really, really bored waiting around.

"Do you think you can actually die of boredom?" Saracen asked.

"Almost certainly not."

"I think it might be possible. If you can, these doctors are being incredibly negligent."

"You're not going to die of boredom, Saracen."

"How would you know? Are you a medical professional?"

The serious look of satisfaction on Saracen's face, as if he had just won an academic debate beyond all doubt, was so ridiculous Dexter couldn't help laughing. Soon they were both at it, unable to stop themselves giggling away. After all of the stress and fear and high stakes they'd been living with, it was good to laugh again.

After what Saracen would later insist was approximately a full day (and Dexter would then roll his eyes and remind him once more that it was only two more hours), the pair were cleared to leave the Medical Bay by a frazzled looking doctor who quite frankly looked glad to see the back of them. Dexter couldn't blame her. They were hardly model patients, he knew that.

Outside, Roarhaven was in complete ruin. The aftermath of battle was all too familiar to the pair, but that didn't make it any more pleasant. Saracen tried not to look at the bloodstains and broken homes.

"You okay?" he asked in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

"Yeah," Dexter replied equally softly, unable to tear his eyes from the scene. Saracen had told him he had been here, but this was the first time he was seeing it as himself. It was almost too much to bear. "Let's go."

"Where?"

"Anywhere. Let's just go anywhere that's not here, you and me. Can we do that?"

Saracen recognised that desperation, that need to get away from all this. He'd experienced it himself before, and was feeling it again now. But this time, he wouldn't be alone. This time he could do it right, take Dexter with him and have what they had been close to having for centuries.

Saracen leant up and pressed his lips gently against Dexter's cheek. Dexter moved closer and smiled, his arm wrapping around Saracen's waist in a silent 'yes'. They looked at each other for a moment that should have happened years ago. But while the past can't be changed, the future was truly theirs to do with as they pleased. Dexter was right, after all they had been through, they had earned a break together. For once, they would be together without the threat of a war looming over them like a vicious beast, threatening to snatch one of them from the other's grasp. Although there was no guarantee they'd be able to stay completely out of trouble.

"Yeah. You and me."