Charlie pushes his door open, letting Zoe enter before him. He drops his keys in one the entryway table and kicks off his shoes. He braces himself against the table, exhaustion deep in his bone. The last forty-eight hours have been some of longest hours of his life.
He doesn't realize that he's closed his eyes until he feels a hand on his shoulder. He meets his best friend's kaleidoscope eyes. "There was nothing we could do," she assures him. It's the same thing she had been telling him during the walk, but he still doesn't believe it. How could he? They should have been able to heal her.
"I know," he lies, his voice soft. And he can see in her eyes that she doesn't believe him.
She's about to say something when they're interrupted. "You're home." He turns away from Zoe to see Draco standing in the doorway of the kitchen. "How's Elyria?"
Charlie shakes his head solemnly. He watches as realization dawns on his lover's face. "I'm sorry," Draco whispers.
"Us too."
Draco silently motions for the pair of them to follow him. Charlie watches as Draco places three glasses on the counter and pours Firewhiskey into each. Wordlessly, Draco hands Zoe a glasses, then Charlie before picking up his own. "To Elyria," he whispers.
Zoe nods her head, lifting her glass. "To Elyria. You will be missed."
He repeats the sentiment and downs the liquid quickly. The amber liquid burns his throat going down. He will miss the beautiful fifty-four foot dragon. She is the one that saw something worthy in him at the beginning, and again when he considered quitting. She, in short, changed his world. Now she is gone.
And Charlie has no words.
