Lunick was glad for these moments alone with Kellyn. Just little moments, when the younger was asleep and no one was around to watch him. On some nights he would perch on the edge of Kellyn's bunk bed and watch the child sleep, almost afraid that if he took his eyes off him for even a second, his little star would be smothered out for good. This stupid human form he'd transformed himself into was heavy and weak and otherwise useless, but practical.
Because the horrible fever coursing through Kellyn's body was just proof once again that no matter how safe Ranger School seemed, evil leered behind it.
Lunick didn't know who'd done this to his Kellyn - be it the Council, Hunter J or a whole new enemy; but they were trying to harm, kill Kellyn. That was unforgivable.
And the worst part was they had almost succeeded.
Lunick gently dabbed the ice-cold rag against Kellyn's face, so calm and still and failing to betray the agony and pain swirling beneath the porcelain skin. Such a sweet and innocent look, so naïve to the true horrors of the world. Lunick hadn't seen a look like that in so long: he'd been raised in pre-war Fiore in a state of political turmoil - when innocence was so precious he'd scarcely seen a few glimpses of it - once on the face of Percy's baby sister as he held her in his arms, again on the face of a two-year-old child whom he'd rescued his Tailow for before the war. And then the war itself had taken so much from the Fiorian population - it was fight or flight, every man for himself. Innocence was almost non-existent. But then he'd seen his face.
Kellyn's face.
He could remember clear as day that evening, when smoke stained the sky a greyish black and the rumble of distance warfare still raged though the remains of Fall City after the Great Siege that the Almians waged, that lasted six days before the city was evacuated. He could remember scrambling around in the rubble, searching for anything that could help Solana and himself as they evaded law and war. He remembered those high-pitched wails beneath the bricks of a demolished apartment complex, the tiny miracle that lay beneath, only a few months into the world and already suffering its cruelty. For the first time in quite possibly his life, Lunick could completely sympathise with another human being.
And in that moment, Lunick looked down at this small, naïve, innocent baby, and saw it all. All the lifetimes he could've led, when he and his father were just normal people and not psychic beings; when his parents weren't killed in a Tauros stampede whilst he was at the tender age of four; when he'd wrote seven letters to Spenser like Solana did and was accepted in the fold at Ringtown Base as a reserving recruit, not just as an orphaned out-of-control psychic being Spenser had taken pity on; when there was no Great War; when he became Spenser's deputy and eventually leader of Ringtown Base with Solana his faithful deputy; when he would remain life-long friends with Murph and Percy and Leilani and Freddie and Chris and Keith and Lind and, heck, even Aria! And all of them would watch their kids grow up together, taking turns to baby sit for and have fun with; when he'd spend every day of his life with his soulmate - his Solana - as they raised their children and watched the stars every night together in the peace and quiet from the world Ringtown offered: in a place where it didn't matter if you were Fiorian or Almian or half of each like him, or psychic being or not, where he could tell Solana every day how much he loved her and how much she meant to him; when they could grow old together and walk into their next life hand-in-hand to fall in love with each other all over again; when their time came and they had cherished every moment of their many lives together and they calmly went to Giratina's realm to spend the rest of their eternity together as in-love as they had always been.
And it was beautiful.
In that moment, Lunick knew he'd protect this child forever. This child he'd known for just seconds, but had brought him so many emotions in those few seconds. This child that was never going to suffer the hardships he'd encountered in life, who was going to smile and laugh and enjoy every second of the life he'd only just begun. He remembered glancing down at the knitted patch-work blanket the child was wrapped in, and just making out the fuzzy letters: 'KE-L-LY-N', and deciding Kellyn was the most beautiful and perfect name in the world. Amongst all the death and destruction, this little soul was by far the purest and, Lunick vowed, most untouchable that ever was.
That was why, when Lunick died, he gave up his soul willingly and had no qualms about abandoning any other lives he could've led and joining the Council of Fallen Rangers. Because if that was how he could protect Kellyn for his whole life and beyond, that was how he would remain. Because, besides the safe return of Solana, nothing in Lunick's existence could even come close to meaning more to him. Screw Owari or Giratina or, hell, even Arceus if they thought they could do a better job of protecting Kellyn than he could! Impossible. Nothing had ever been more impossible. Kellyn was half of his whole world and, come hell or high water, he'd be damned before he let anything harm even a single hair on his head.
So as he sat in these silly, too-small clothes in this too-clean skin in this too-happy environment, pretending he had amnesia but needed no hospital, that his 'memories' would return soon, trying to bring down Kellyn's raging fever, Lunick had never been so angry and frightened in his life. Angry at whoever had dared to harm his sweet, sweet Kellyn, and terrified he was going to have to sit here and watch his little ray of hope and light die in front of him because he hadn't watched over him carefully enough.
"Kellyn" he whispered, sliding out of the chair he'd been sat in and perching on the edge of the sofa. The room was so silent he could here the sound of Kellyn's shallow breathing. "Please..."
He reached one tanned hand out, fingers gently stroking down the side of Kellyn's overheated face, brushing aside a few stray strands of chocolate-brown hair as they did so. The fact Kellyn didn't stir even slightly, not even the hitch of a breath, almost reduced Lunick - the so-called 'heartless psychic being' with no human emotion - to tears.
"Please, please keep breathing" he continued to whisper, leaning down over Kellyn so their hands were laced together - Kellyn's limp in his own - and their foreheads were pressed together. "Please don't give up on us. Don't give up on me."
The thought rampaging around his head remained unspoken, Lunick too terrified something beyond his darkest nightmares could come up with would happen if he even dared speak it.
'Please don't let your light die, because my soul won't survive that.'