A/N: I have returned. In a reasonable amount of time, too— it's only been two and a half months!

In case someone doesn't know: This is the third part of the series "Chasing Down the Gods (and I Hope you Find your Dream)", and it will not make sense unless you read the previous installments. The first is There's a Devil in the Church, and the second is From the Truth of a Thousand Lies.

I also do not own the Talon Saga. Big shocker.

I make this promise at the beginning of every part of this series, and I will continue to make it: I promise not to kill Dante Hill. That would ruin the entire point of this series. However, as many readers have likely found out, this is a very low bar, and bad things tend to happen after I make this promise. This is literally a MINIMAL REQUIREMENT of making a fic that doesn't follow redemption=death. Best of luck to all of you.

Chapter 1
(Dante)

Dante supposed that, on some level, he expected things to change.

He had gone back to into Talon, into the lab that he had poured the last few months of his life into. He had completed the mission without a single urge to betray the underground. He had sealed his fate with Talon, and he accepted it. Any loyalty to Talon was finally put to rest. He had worked with a soldier of St. George and a basilisk who had stabbed him in the back. The soldier of St. George had nearly died for him. He had seen someone die for the first time; a real person, not a vessel. Even if that person had been Lilith, and she had tried to kill him, the shock of it had ripped at his core.

He had been welcomed back a hero.

He had had his one last secret ripped from his chest, and there was no way to stop it from being exposed.

So much had happened. It seemed like when he woke up, the world would be irreversibly changed. He would be changed.

And yet, that was not the case.

"Oh my God…" Dante groaned, cracking his eyes open. Sunlight filtered in through the window, painfully bright. He tried to move shield his face only for his shoulder to seize up. His back was burning, all the way from the base of his spine to his neck. Every breath ached. He couldn't quite locate his legs, other than the hazy feeling of pins and needles below his tailbone.

Apparently, it didn't matter how significant the mission was. A bullet to the spine was a bullet to the spine, and hauling a mostly-dead soldier who was at least six inches taller than him through a mineshaft wasn't going to end well for him.

"Hey, Tweedledum," Ember's voice said from somewhere to his side. Dante turned his head— even that hurt— and caught her eye. She grimaced, in the way that she used to every time he got sick when they were younger.

"Ugh."

"Yeah, I'm sorry," she replied. She sat down next to him. "Wes told me that you probably overexerted yourself yesterday. He explained exactly what was wrong in detail, but I understood absolutely none of it, and he's currently passed out in his room, so all that you need to know is that you're not allowed to get out of bed without a back brace for the next twenty-four hours."

"I have no intentions to move at all," Dante said. He tried to move his feet, just to make sure that he could, but all that he got was more pain. Well, at least he could feel his legs. Vaguely.

Actually, it would probably be a mercy if he couldn't feel them for the next twenty-four hours.

"Cheer up, Dante." Ember hit his shoulder lightly. "At least I'm allowed into this room. Sage didn't want to let me in, but your friends decided that it was better that I be the one to keep you company. And, just to make your day better, Wes got you painkillers. They're really weak, but they'll take the edge off."

Dante sighed. "Thank God."

Ember shook out a few pills into her hand and counted them out. "Who's your favorite sister?"

"You're my only sister. Now give me the—"

"Who's your favorite sister?"

"Ember, please just—"

"Who's your favorite sister?"

"This is blackmail!"

Ember laughed. She didn't bother trying to sit him upright or to give him the chance to take the painkillers himself. She just shoved them directly into his mouth. Dante made a weak protest from the back of his throat, but truth be told, he doubted that he could get his arms to work. He dry-swallowed the pills before Ember could try to give him any water. He still had his pride, and he didn't want to end up with his shirt soaking wet.

"Reminds me of old times," Dante said after a few minutes of waiting for painkillers to kick in. They were weak. Too weak to even touch the pain in his back. But his shoulders didn't ache when he moved them, and his legs were a bit more hazy in his awareness. He couldn't tell whether or not that was a good thing.

"Six weeks was not old times, Dante," Ember snorted.

"I don't know… a lot has happened in six weeks," Dante said. "It's hard to process, really, how quickly everything changed. And I've really only been lucid for three weeks." That was honestly harder to believe than the fact that he had been gone for six weeks. It felt like a lifetime ago, that he was trying to visit the Archivist. It also felt unbelievably fast.

"Sometimes, I still think that I'm going to wake up in my apartment."

"You had an apartment?" Ember asked, incredulous. "They trusted you to be left to your own for extended periods of time? Damn. And here we thought the Elder Wyrm was intelligent."

"Oh, come on. You act like you were the responsible one out of the two of us."

"I might not have possessed any time management skills or an ability to pay attention, but at least I didn't forget to eat, or try to hide scale rot until I got a blood infection, or… you went to work with strep throat didn't you? You told me about that."

"I did do that."

"Yeah, I've never tried to hide a major illness. When the doctors gave me my shots, I didn't try to put it off for three months. You shouldn't be allowed to have an apartment by yourself."

"I did fine…" Dante muttered. It was a lie. His apartment had been a bed, a counter, and his hoard of rocks that he had found in the desert. He barely ever spent time in it, going as far as to sleep in his office. He had thrown himself into Talon without any thought other than proving himself and making it to the top, consequences be damned.

People were calling him a hero, after blowing up that lab, while ignoring that he had been the one to help build that program.

A chill came over Dante. He hadn't thought badly of the vessel project at first— sure, it felt unnatural, but so did Viper suits and everything involving old magic. But after everything that had happened in the underground, the idea of an army of soldiers who couldn't say no to orders or think for themselves was terrifying. And the fact that he was a vessel was still incomprehensible.

But the lab was gone, now. He had made sure of that. He could put it all behind him.

"What are you thinking about, Tweedledum?" Ember asked.

Dante blinked and pulled himself out of his thoughts. Ember had a concerned crease in her brow that he still wasn't used to seeing. He wasn't sure if he was proud or sad that she had taken so much responsibility while he was gone.

"I… think that I just realized that I'm not built for independent living," he said. The furrow in Ember's brow smoothed out, and she smirked slightly. "The months where I was alone in Talon were very unhealthy… holy shit. You might actually be part of my common sense filter. That is is incredibly concerning. I'm really lucky to have you back. And… I'm sorry that it took so long. A lot could've been avoided if I hadn't been an idiot."

"Hey, don't be hard on yourself." Ember punched his shoulder. Dante winced. She was so much stronger than she used to be. "You've been doing really well with all of this. I know that this definitely wasn't an easy way to go rogue. And… I also know that the mission was tough. You did as well as you could."

Dante sighed, trying to move his arm to rub at his eyes and failing to do anything more than raise it a few inches off of his cot. With any luck, and mercy on Mist's part, no one would know about the Night of Fang and Fire until after he could stand by himself.

He still remembered when Cobalt called all of the hatchlings into the living room and told them that any infighting with the soldiers would lead to a one-way ticket to the nearest town with no exceptions. Exile from the only safe haven in the Western Hemisphere. Dante didn't know if the same fate would await him, but if it did, he wanted to be able to move by himself. It would give him half a fighting chance.

God. He really didn't want to leave. He didn't know that it was possible to get attached to a place in such a short amount of time.

"I just wish it hadn't taken me so long," Dante said softly. A soft silence came between them, only interrupted by the noises downstairs. He had never seen so many dragons in the same place, but the way they interacted, it made him feel that this was how dragons were supposed to live. They were communal at heart, no matter how much Talon tried to deny it.

"How's St. Anthony?" Dante asked. From the last update Ember gave him before he went to bed, the soldier was unresponsive, and remained comatose without any drugs in his system. "Any updates?"

"There is, actually," Ember said, eyes brightening a bit. "Garret texted me two hours ago, that Tristan's hand was twitching for a while. He's still not conscious, but they think it could be a response to the pain, which would mean that he's more in limbo than actually comatose. They're hoping that he'll wake up soon. It might not even last twenty-four hours. And, for an added bonus, it was the hand that Lilith stabbed. The fact that he can move it means that he'll be able to actually use it. Maybe not as well as he could before, but…" she shrugged. "A damn chapel fell on him during the Night of Fang and Fire, and he survived. He'll be able to get through this."

Dante cringed. That was his fault.

"Really, Dante. He's going to be okay," Ember said. "And… even if he isn't completely okay, he's alive, and he's alive because you got him out. That counts for something."

"Yeah…" Dante sighed. "Just wish it hadn't come down to me or him."

"We both do."

"You must really mean something to him," Dante said. Ember furrowed her brow. "Ember, he was willing to die for me. He doesn't even know me, other than a guy who worked for Talon and went Rogue a few weeks ago, and the guy who just so happens to be your brother. You obviously have some sort of impact on him."

Something passed over Ember's face, dark and vaguely uncomfortable. But she hid it with a grimace in less than a second.

"I'm dating his best friend, so we've had quite a few conversations over the past weeks. The 'welcome to the family, don't hurt him' and 'these are how to deal with his night terrors' and… I actually did talk about you a lot. You were on my mind pretty often. He's a surprisingly thoughtful listener."

"All good things?" Dante mustered up a smirk.

"Sure. Whatever you want to think," Ember snorted. Dante rolled his shoulders and tried to force himself onto his elbows. Ember winced and moved to support him, a hand going under his back, right where his vertebrae had been hit. It burned through his entire spine and into his ribs at the contact, but Dante managed to prop himself up, even if his arms were shaking from the effort.

"Take it easy on yourself, Dante," Ember warned softly. "There's a reason that Wes told you not to walk anywhere without a brace." She paused. "He's still surprised that you managed to haul Tristan out at all. He's, like, nine inches taller than you and over fifty pounds heavier."

"I did it through pure terror," Dante replied. "Besides, you've probably done crazier."

"I… have indeed," Ember cringed slightly. "Yeah, I don't think that either of us are built for independent living. It's just a bad idea all around. I should have just… dragged you to our meeting with Riley back in Crescent Beach."

"You could've tried."

"I would've succeeded, tweedledum. I was trained to be a Viper. I could carry your scrawny, Chameleon ass with one arm. I could punt you."

"Please don't."

"Throw you like a sack of flour."

"Please don't."

The door opened. Dante stiffened further as Mist walked in and shut the door behind her, eyes scanning the room before she gave a smile to Ember. Her eyes didn't once meet his.

Dante knew that, logically, he wasn't supposed to be upset over that. He and Mist had never been friends, even while they were in Talon; they had spoken for maybe two hours total before she went rogue. But he did care about what she thought of him. He cared about what she'd tell Ember. He could go through with losing his friends. He had accepted that as best as he could in twelve hours. But he couldn't stand the thought of having his sister hate him.

"Hey," she said to Ember. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm not the one who just blew up a Talon laboratory," she replied. If it weren't for the fact that could still barely feel his legs, Dante would take his leave. He didn't want to be in the room when Mist told her the news. He also didn't want to be stuck in an awkward pre-conversation that he was quite obviously not invited to.

Damn this bullet. It's been six weeks. I should be better by now.

"It's not the first place I've blown up," Mist said. She remained standing by the doorway, posture far from relaxed. "It is the first place I've gotten hero worship for blowing up, though. It's... weird."

"In a good way, I hope?"

Mist shrugged. "In a way. I mean… nearly all of the dragonelles are older than me, and they're looking at me like I'm the one who's supposed to be respected. It's... a lot to live up to." She sighed. "I don't know how Cobalt does it."

Ember nodded an agreement.

"I didn't get to tell you this last night, but I'm really glad that you're alive, Mist," she said.

Mist swallowed and looked at Dante, trepidation flashing behind her eyes and lingering far longer than it should have, as if it were her life and future that was about to be destroyed. She tucked a strand of hair behind her hair and gave Ember a thumbs-up in response, which make Ember laugh a little.

"I'm glad that I'm alive, too," she said. There was a pause. "So, there's a meeting with Riley and Wes and Jade downstairs."

"Wes is awake?" Ember asked. "He was out cold two hours ago."

Mist snorted. "He's not happy about it, but yeah. You don't have to come if you'd prefer to spend more time with your brother, but I don't want to keep them waiting. There's some… information that came to light in the lab that people should know about. Nothing disastrous. We don't need to be preparing for another attack." Her eyes met Dante's again. "But it's something that people should know sooner rather than later."

Dante couldn't tell who she wanted to protect: herself or him.

Or Ember.

Ember went still beside him.

"Go with her, Ember," Dante whispered. "I'll be fine."

At least he wouldn't have to see her when she figured it out.

A/N: So, Dante is NOT dead, so that's good. His situation isn't the best, but he's alive, and (kinda) functioning. Kinda.

Please leave me a review. I live for them. I long for them. They give me encouragement to edit the next chapter.