(A/N)- As suggested by Dragonjek, we have here an "Iri finds Shirou" AU. Because feels.
Disclaimer: *laughs* Yeah right.
Heaven and Hell
Awareness was the last thing she was expecting.
She was supposed to die, her soul to be absorbed by the Greater Grail, her body to dissolve and reform into its physical container. She'd known that for a long time. She'd been ready to sacrifice herself, give up her life to bring about Kiritsugu's dream. Their dream, she told herself. All his—their—hopes for a better world.
Her body had already died, killed by Kotomine, her mind lingering a while longer before sinking softly into the oblivion she had prepared herself for.
And yet...
And yet...
It its haste to expel the golden archer, she had been expelled as well. Thrown up. Cast out of the Grail's gullet. So here she was. Awake. Aware.
Alive?
She wasn't sure yet. Consciousness came back to her slowly.
She was splayed on the hard ashen ground. The air was hot. Too hot. It burned her throat, stung her eyes, itched on her bare skin. Every breath she took in was ragged, uncomfortable. Her body shook with the motion, lungs struggling.
She scrabbled for purchase with her fingers, nails digging into rough dirt. Dust was clogging her nose; she had to lift her head.
Straining, she brought her knees underneath her, and pushed herself up with her arms. Her white hair dropped limply around her. She knelt there, breathing a moment. Then she lifted her head and looked up.
And wished at once to return to oblivion.
For this? This burning desolation? It could only be Hell.
Iri looked around, horror in her eyes. Everywhere she looked, it was burning, and burning. Flames covered the ground, sparking high into the air, filling it with smoke and ash and soot. The cries of the dying surrounded her. All was reduced to rubble and debris.
High above them in the sky, the black hole that was the Grail dripped out its last curses, scorching the Earth below.
Iri put her hands out, shakily getting to her feet. Her new knees wobbled, unsteady, unused to having to support her. Her wide eyes darted around, and the flames reflected in them.
This... this wasn't her husband's wish. It couldn't have been. It had to be someone else's.
But how? Had he lost? Had someone else beaten him to the Grail? It didn't seem possible.
No... I... remember... He hadn't lost. The Grail had embraced him. Somewhere in the fuzz and fog of her mind she knew this was true. So then why...?
A sudden spike of panic gripped her.
Where was he?
Iri felt dread and worry pool in her chest like a cold block of ice. If Kiritsugu had rebuffed the Grail, what had it done to him? Where had he gone? Was he somewhere in this... this desolation?
Like a frenzied drunk, Iri ran through the fire, stumbling, tripping over debris. "Kiritsugu!" she cried as she ran. "Kiritsugu!"
The heat scorched her naked skin. The smoke choked her. To get a modicum of shielding from the popping sparks and awful heat, she found herself grabbing the remains of a cloth awning, wrapping it around her.
She clutched the edges tight to her chest, searching.
There!
She spotted him, lying prone on his back across a pile of bubbling mud. The brief flash of relief she felt as she flung herself to her knees next to him faded almost immediately as she took in his face—heavily burned and coated on one side with black boils.
But his eyes were the same as they opened and looked at her. A faint smile cracked his face.
"Iri..." he whispered, raising a hand to touch her face.
"Kiritsugu," she said, voice trembling. She cupped his chin with both hands.
"Am I dead then?" he asked her. She hated how weak it sounded, as if every breath was taking an effort.
She shook her head. "No, I... I'm alive. I don't know how but—"
"Then—" he interrupted, a spark coming into his eyes, "—then there's still a chance."
"Kiritsugu... " she breathed. Hot tears threatened to spill from her eyes and she blinked them back. "Why?" she strained, emotion choking her voice. "Why did you reject the Grail? Your dream..." she trailed off, unable to continue.
The look he gave her... He smiled again, but it was full of pain. Of regret.
"It wasn't worth it," he said. "How the Grail would have granted my wish... it was too high a cost. I couldn't justify it." His head shook, wearily. "Not even... to myself."
"But—" Iri sputtered. "But—"
"Iri," he said, lifting his head suddenly, grabbing one of her hands tight. "Iri, the Grail is evil. Curses dwell inside it. Look around you." He gestured about them. "This is the Grail's curse." He lay back down, heaving from the effort. "They don't deserve this, Iri. You have..." The words strained out of him as a pained shudder flushed through his body. "You have to save them."
To her shock and astonishment, he made a gesture to slice himself open, and reached into the blinding golden light that spilled forth from the split.
"No!" Iri cried, the familiar radiant glow blinding her, dazzling her eyes. "Kiritsugu, you'll die!"
He drew the golden sheath from his his body slowly, with reverence, his face already looking grayer. "I'm already dead," he said, mouth upturned grimly. "Not even Avalon... can stop that now. Even with it inside me, I could feel myself fading." His hand grasped hold of the scabbard as the split in his chest sealed. "It's too late for me... but... maybe not... for someone else..."
Hands shaking, he extended the sheath towards her.
"No," Iri sobbed, shaking her head, grabbing handfuls of his clothes, ignoring the offered scabbard. "Please... don't leave me!" she begged.
"You have to save them, Iri," he repeated. His chest shuddered, breathing unsteady. "Save them. Save someone. Promise me."
Iri's heart clenched and she squeezed her eyes closed, praying for strength. How could he ask her to carry on, when her reason for living was dying? But he'd given her a request, imparted to her his last desire, and she who would have gladly died for him—had already died for him—must now attempt to fulfill it, or she didn't love him at all.
"I... I will," she promised in a broken squeak.
Her hands found Avalon, gripped the beautiful scabbard tightly.
Strength faded out of Kiritsugu's body as he passed it over, his fingers loosening and his hand dropping to his chest. "Tell... Illya... I'm sorry," he rasped. "Her daddy wasn't... strong enough..."
"Don't speak," Iri said, pulling Avalon to her chest. "Just rest." She got her feet underneath her and awkwardly got up, clinging to Avalon and the cloth awning. She stumbled off, diving into the hell that surrounded them once again.
She forced herself to keep going, forced herself not to look back, not to run back to Kiritsugu's side.
She didn't see the breath still in his chest, didn't hear his last whispered prayer as he watched her receding back.
"Please..." he begged whatever unseen forces were listening, "...let her find someone."
-FSN-
Her pale white feet were scratched and bruised. Now covered in dirt. The once clean, new nails broken and chipped. Aching.
She shuffled listlessly through the ruin, unseeing. Wandering aimlessly. The stench of soot and death and burning flesh stung her nose. Her hair clung to her back with sweat. The awning she was using to cover herself had snagged more than a few times and was now rife around the edges with rips and holes. The heat from the inferno smothered her, cloying, suffocating. It was hard to breathe and her head felt light.
But she didn't stop.
Ever on her weary feet carried her, purposeless, but still seeking a purpose. Despair threatened to sink her, and yet she continued to wander through the flames, searching, seeking.
Avalon was starting to grow limp in her arms. It was all she could do to keep hold of it, keep herself from flinging herself to the ground and curling up with hopeless sobs as she waited for the flames to take her.
Save them, he'd told her. But there wasn't anyone to save. There was no one left. Everywhere she looked, there was death, and more death.
The tears she'd been holding back earlier returned, blurring her vision into a dull red smear.
I should never have left him, she thought despondently. She should have stayed with him to the end, made her body his shroud, the blaze their funeral pyre. What purpose was there in living, in scrabbling at the dirt for signs of a survivor, when he was gone?
Hot wet trails streaked down her cheeks. She stopped to inhale and compose herself, but didn't bother to wipe them away.
Kiritsugu had had hope—in her, in her strength, in the idea that some good could be seized from the midst of all this evil. So she must too.
Iri lifted a corner of the awning and smeared it across her face, the blue of night and the bright orange flames coming into focus once again.
She turned, stumbling off in a direction she hadn't tried yet. The sky above turned gray, heavy with the impending threat of rain. The flames were beginning to subside, licking rather than devouring. Iri climbed awkwardly over a splintered wooden beam in her path. She batted away a sprinkling of raindrops, scanning the way ahead for a clear path.
She stopped abruptly. Amidst the piles of ash and rubble and the little growing wet puddles, she thought she'd caught sight of—
There!
A swell rose up through her chest. She jerked into a run, almost tripping in her haste and elation. At the bottom of the hill, from behind a scorched pile of debris, there was a tiny hand sticking up. Reaching, grasping towards the sky. The first true sign that something in this wretched desolation yet lived.
Avalon dropped beside her as she fell to her palms and knees, feverishly grasping the tiny hand with both of her own.
"I found you! Oh thank God, I found you!" she exclaimed, breathless.
The boy the hand belonged to looked up at her with empty, glass-like eyes. "Mom?" The word blurted out so quietly she almost missed it. The boy squinted, confusion entering his eyes.
Iri was crying so hard she was laughing, repeating in a gentle whisper, "It's okay... It's okay... I found you..."
His empty eyes stared at her, uncomprehending. His little face was scratched and bruised, ash and dirt clogging his messy red hair. He lay very still, dying but not yet dead. There was hope for him. He could be saved!
"Are you here... to take me to Heaven?" he asked, voice weak.
Iri shook her head, holding his cold little hand to her cheek. "No, little one," she whispered tenderly. "You're going to live." Her arms came around him, lifting him into a tight embrace. "You're going to live," she repeated with conviction.
She held him to her chest, wreathed in golden light and weeping in relief, as the rain came down in cool waves, extinguishing the fire at last.
