(AN: Hi! Sorry for the wait, if you were expecting this sooner. School's been a pain lately, but I salvaged as much as I could to finish this up. The story's not quite over yet, though, so stay tuned, and I'll do my best to deliver in a timely manner. Happy reading!)

His tentmate.

That worried look bored into his soul.

He couldn't understand how the man had located him, nor why he was so far from camp at such a late hour. All he knew is that the other man was unwelcome here. He stood up abruptly, unable to meet the man's eyes.

"May I ask why you're sitting here in the dark?" The tone was of friendly concern rather than derision, but it irked him all the same. He couldn't think of a suffieciently logical answer, so he said whatever first came to his mind.

"The medicine tent was hot. I decided to come here where it's cooler."

An eyebrow lifted told the man that the lie hadn't worked in the slightest. "Oh, come on, don't give me that. No one in their right mind would be skulking around in the dark for no good reason and with a fresh javelin wound."

"Then I'm not in the right mind," he retorted, then softened his gaze and finished quietly, "I mean… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'm sure that you can't be too happy, what with the pain." The other man paused for a moment, then added, "Do you need any help, by chance? I have about half of a vulnerary in my bag, if you want it-"

"N-no, that's quite alright. I'm fine. It doesn't hurt." That was, as he too well knew, a definite lie.

"Hm. You're sure?"

"Yes, I am. Please don't worry about me."

His tentmate's deepening concern for him made him nervous. He wondered what it was that was making the other man pay so much attention to his wellbeing. It wasn't worth the time to focus on him so much, and the intrusion into his secret place could only last so long.

The other man spoke up again, his tone warm but hushed. "Hey… you know you can come to me, if you want. I know you're a little newer than the rest of us Shepherds, and haven't meshed much with the even newer additions. That must be hard on you, right? I felt like that earlier, too. A little out of place, feeling awkward and like you don't fit in with the rest, and the fighting with Plegia isn't any help. But everything falls into place at some point. If that's what you feel, keep your head up. It'll all change and you'll feel right at home."

His words were met with silence. The brown-haired man stared at the ground, refusing (or, at this point, unable) to answer. His tentmate watched him carefully, then leaned slightly forward and placed his hand on the man's good shoulder.

"I'm here for you, friend."

The man tensed, fighting the insane, violent urge to shove his tentmate away from him. Somewhere inside, however, he wanted this. He was important for a moment. Someone cared about him. He knew someone would have his back. The rush of emotions was overwhelming and he moved toward his tentmate's form, feeling weak…. dizzy. He felt horribly dizzy. It was like he…

"H-hey! Don't die on me, okay?"

"Wha, huh? What?"

"You look like you almost passed out on me there. I thought maybe you were walking toward the light." The other man grinned half-heartedly, traces of his previous horror still settled on his face. "Gods, you scared the daylights out of me. We should get you back to camp. I'm no healer, and I don't want you to be dead, believe me."

Do you really? Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to break free. Even while now sitting down on the ground, the world was spinning. He felt so sick. So tired. So finished. He couldn't bear to hold himself together, or even hold himself up. So weak, this wound was playing with his mind, this wound was making him crumble, this wound… this wound. I'm sorry, I can't even be hurt correctly. Letting his deadweight into his tentmate's arms, the dam broke and his grief ran free.

His tentmate kept him from falling with braced arms, suddenly hit with panic, and leaned him against the tree. The man's body slid down to rest on the dirt and his tentmate then noticed the hitching sobs, the chest racking, the hands covering the face, the tears still squeezing through.

"Oh, oh no. Gods, I'm sorry. Did I… gods, was it me?"

"N-no!" The man's voice wavered in pitch, pitiful and out of volume control. "I-I'm sorry for..."

"No, no, it's alright! You don't need to apologize. I would never, not in a hundred centuries, ask that of you. How terrible I'd be!" the other man said to him, obviously distressed. "Never. Please, come here. Right here. Please, don't worry. You can cry all you need to, okay?" His words were arrows as he spoke, whizzing past ears at rapid speeds and trying to find their mark in the sobbing man's mind. He had no idea how to deal with this situation, but he was doing all he could to figure it out.

"I d-don't wanna bother you. I should do it myself, I'm-" He couldn't finish. There was no way he could, not now. It was too late to stop. He buried his face into his tentmate's armor, wrapping his jittering hands around the iron-plated knee. The taller man angled his shoulders down to hold the brown-haired man's head. He held the sobbing man below him gently, hoping his touch might still the churning waters in which his friend was drowning.

"It'll be okay. It'll be alright." He wasn't fully convinced the poor man would be, but saying so wouldn't help right now. "Oh, I'm really so sorry- it's okay."

The man shivered, pulling away slightly from his tentmate's body while coughing, sniffling. I bet… haha, I bet I'm seriously sad to see now. He took a few long wheezes of air in and pressed them out slowly, his head still somewhat resting on his comforter's thigh. The taller man sighed, relieved that his friend's storm was beginning to clear.

"I'm sorry. I wish- I had hoped you wouldn't see that. It's unbecoming of a man, especially a knight," he murmured, almost unintelligibly, against the cold iron armor.

The other man showed a gentle face to his tearful friend. "Really, it's alright. I knew something was bothering you besides your wound. Do you want to…?"

It was now or never, he supposed. Give up the ghost. There's no point in hiding it now. Come on.

"I really… I can't."

The taller man frowned at him, his gaze knowing yet still puzzled. Of course there was something wrong, but he couldn't seem to figure out what it could even be. Oh, he's looking at me now. I wonder what he's thinking, the injured man thought as he pulled himself up off of the ground. I can only imagine. He shied away from returning the look from his tentmate, who came closer in response.

"I don't think any less of you, you know. Everyone has their limits." The brown-haired man could only sniff in reponse, still unsure of where his eyes should settle. The taller man sighed and put a hand out. "My friend," he began hesitantly, "Don't worry. This is just you and me right here. I promise you, no one else will ever have to know."

He almost felt like giggling. Maybe at the absurdity of it all, maybe because there was something seriously wrong with him. Yet, he knew his tentmate was speaking with sincerity. As long as he had known him, the man had never been one to violate the feelings of others. The soft and sympathetic green eyes he had in these moments showed that, surely. He felt his heart lurch in his chest, something alien and uncomfortable to him, but finally found the strength to raise his head and meet those watching eyes.

"Yes. Thank you. But, um, I've wasted enough of your time already-"

He was swiftly interrupted by a contradictory, "No, you haven't."

"Well, but I-"

"Oh, no buts about it. It isn't a trouble to me, and I wouldn't have stayed had I not cared."

That alien feeling returned. It was unusual, to say the least, and he wasn't sure what to think of it. Was he afraid, sick, hurt, exhausted? He was sure he was three of those, but how did that relate to this feeling? It's like I've got a bird in my ribcage, trying to get out. The other man started to speak again and pulled him from his thoughts.

"I've been keeping my eye out for you. You seem like you disappear somewhere whenever I'm looking, but everytime I've caught sight of you, I've wanted to protect you." A faint redness came across his face, obscured by the darkness, as he continued speaking. "It sounds a little weird when I put it like that, doesn't it? I'm not meaning it to be like I'm creeping around, following you everywhere, but… ah, maybe I'm just digging myself in deeper. In any case, you're very important to me." Another pause came and the man locked eyes with his target. "Did you know that?" he asked, his tone suddenly painted somber.

The brown-haired man found himself just barely able to produce a response that made sense through his nerves and fatigue. "I wasn't really- I don't, uh, know what to say, so it's…" He abandoned the sentence and began anew, murmuring, "I do now."

"You can come to me anytime. Really."

"Thank you."

"I'm serious, don't hesitate to wake me up in the middle of the night or catch me during training. I'll drop it and help you."

"I- oh, you don't have to."

"I want to and I will." The other man looked away then, staring at the roots of the trees far off into the forest, where the blackness of the night swallowed them up. "You need somebody, so it's natural that someone be there. I can't let you live with whatever is bothering you on your own. That'd be cruel."

The man felt tears well up again at the protective, encouraging words, but blinked them away fiercely. It was in vain, though, as it seemed his tentmate knew instinctively of his sudden emotion. Such empathy he has. It's amazing. The taller man pulled him into a kind-hearted, sincere embrace. He felt something like happiness starting to grow within himself.

"Oh, d-don't you make me start crying again."

The smile was gleaming at him; he knew it, even in the dark. "Of course. Now let's get you back to camp, buddy. You're not shipshape by any means and I'd rather you not get any more sick than you are."

The man smiled back. He closed his eyes and followed along the path, hands on his newfound friend's shoulders, letting his tentmate take the lead.

No words were needed, for the time being.

...

...

...

Well, now there's words.

At least, ones to think about, he figured.

He'd been helped. Someone had cared about him, but for once, he felt at peace. Even with the war waging on around him, he knew it was a change for the better. The kindness of a single man who took pity on his soul would set him straight and keep him subdued. This man, his... friend. I can't recall really having one before.

He smiled to himself as he rested on the stained cot he had been on previously. There had been a bit of a clamor in the medicine tent when his absence was brought to Libra's attention, but everything had turned out all right so far. Honestly, he was just glad for the fiasco to be over. Libra had done what he needed to, which involved a scolding and re-bandaging, and now, he could spend his night staring at the sky and searching his mind.

For what, he could only wonder to himself.

"Don't worry. This is just you and me right here."