"Dave!" Rush cried out, alarmed. Chaos and pandemonium rained down around them, suffusing the battlefield with thick clouds of dust and smoke that obscured the ethereal glow of the phantom they had been fighting. Were still fighting, Rush amended, a distant part of his tactician's mind noting the position of the other two regiments of their traveling army. Amid the din Rush barked out a few quick commands, directing his own union to attend to David's soldiers. Even through the clearing smoke he could make out the telltale control threads as he approached, gossamer fibers glinting silver before winking out again. "Shit," he breathed, slowing to a halt as he reached out a hand to steady the Marquis.

David's eyes were wide, suppressed panic lacing his voice as he called, "Rush, please," in a keening whine pitched so only Rush could hear. "I don't know what – I can't – " David choked out, taut muscles trembling with the effort to restrain himself even as his sword arm moved up and away involuntarily, hand tightening around the hilt as he prepared to strike.

"Hey, it's okay, I've got you," Rush murmured, stepping inside David's reach and bringing a hand up to cradle his head. He pressed David into a tight embrace, fingers catching and holding in his hair as he mouthed soft reassurances against David's ear. From this angle, David could not see the tears pricking the corners of Rush's eyes, threatening to spill as the blade of his dagger slipped effortlessly between David's ribs.