A/N: Cross-posted to AO3. Titles comes from the Paramore song.
Darling You Are the Only Exception
Makkari feels Druig before she sees him.
Every creature, Eternal included, vibrates on a different frequency. Thena's steps are quick and silent. Gilgamesh thundered with the grace of a herd of elephants. Kingo doesn't know when to stop humming, singing, bouncing to the music in his head. Ikaris never quite learned how to touch the ground.
Makkari would know Druig anywhere.
The weight of him is deceptive: wiry in build yet his aura carries a magnetism that demands to be recognized. Sure steps echo off the space-metal floors of the Domo down to the very center of Makkari's being and buzz through her skin, her whole body in tune to the man about turn the corner into her sanctuary.
There is only so much of herself she can bury in books and treasures. There is only so much she can collect before realizing that material objects do not fill the void a family leaves behind. The void that love leaves behind.
Druig is behind her now. He steps into the void and fills it with sensation and color. Black and red to be exact, a near inverse of her own. Two sides of the same coin, or so the saying goes.
She knows where he is - leaning up against the doorway - the moment he enters her orbit. She chooses to keep her focus on the emerald tablet, fingers running over the smooth grooves of thousand-year-old glyphs. She can't look at him. Maybe it is silly to be as old and cosmic as she is and still believe in superstition, but some small flaw in her perfect code holds onto the fear that he isn't real. That he's a ghost.
Two knocks on the wall. She can't ignore him forever.
Druig looks real: the dirt on his cheeks, the dark swoop of his hair, the intense focus of his gaze. He feels real: the vibration of each step, the oscillation of his breath as he speaks.
"Thena told me what you did. She said you got closer to beating Ikaris than the rest of us ever could." Makkari cannot distinguish tone, but there is something wistful about his words. There is pride as well, a fierce pride that flashes in his eyes, all for her. His grin is twisted and smug. "I wish I could have seen you wipe that sanctimonious smirk off his face."
The tablet slips from her grip.
She closes her eyes.
Ikaris is above them, a vision of blue and gold, full of terrible splendor and righteous purpose. His hands bear no blood, but they all know better. He makes his decree.
Druig is gone, and he has taken all that makes forever worth living with him.
Her hands shake as she signs, I thought he had…
She can't bring herself to sign what comes next. To release the words is to release those terrible, horrible moments when she believed them to be true. To release the scream that burns her throat raw, the only scream she has ever released: a strident, scathing, screeching thing. The chaos of those vibrations could only match the chaos of her emotions: a flood of hateful, furious rage.
She is going to beat Ikaris. She is going to pummel him to the ground. She is going to throw punch after punch until her knuckles split. She is going to run until her knees crumble. She is not going to stop until Ikaris is blood and bone and circuit. She is going to rip out his heart, just as he has ripped out hers.
A hand, gentle and warm, takes her own by surprise. Makkari looks up - and when did Druig get so close? He places her palm over where his heart beats steadily in his chest, his own hand keeping hers in place. The other signs along with the words, "I'm right here."
He is alive.
The fight is over and she stands on a beach with Thena, Phastos, and Sersi. Her body is sore. Everything aches from converging with the Uni-Mind. On the horizon, the marble hand of a Celestial stretches out towards the cosmos, reaching for a future that will never come to pass.
And there, on the opposite end of the beach, limping ever closer, are Sprite and Druig.
She cannot use her speed, not even if she wants. Everything in this perfectly-made body hurts from her head to her toes, but not her heart. Her heart races faster than ever before, a hummingbird beating in its cage, fluttering so quickly it may fly away. Every cell, every gear, every impulse is attuned to Druig, to those devastatingly familiar steps now sunk in sand. She meets him half way, crashes into him with less finesse than all her years are supposed to show.
Druig does not like to be touched, does not like invasion into his space, but he has always broken his rule for her and she has to - she just has to. Her hands search without permission and grab him close to prove he is real, he is tangible, he is not gone. Her heart still beats in double time, like she may vibrate out her skin -
His forehead touches hers, thoughts mingling, mind to mind. Reassurance in the only way he knows how.
Makkari breathes out.
She looks up and finds he is staring at her. His smile, so rare and bright, lights her soul on fire. There are tears in her eyes, but he does not say a thing. Another exception. If this was Kingo, there would be no saving the merciless mocking to follow.
He leans forward, presses his forehead to hers just as he did on the beach.
"My beautiful, beautiful Makkari."
Oh, how she has always loved the way he says her name. He speaks her name with such reverence, as the humans speak to their Gods, each syllable a prayer. He speaks her name and she is home.
She has already lost one home today. She will not lose another.
Don't go. It is not like her to beg, but she will make another exception while no one but him is around to see. Stay. Come with me.
"Come with you?"
There are thousands of Eternals out there who don't know what's happened, she signs, giving voice to the idea that has been building in the back of her brain since she first learned their existence was a lie. We can find them, tell them. They deserve to know the truth.
"That didn't turn out too well for us. Ajak and Gilgamesh died because of that truth." He cocks his head to the side and a pensive line forms on his brow, ever the pragmatist. "What if they resist? What if there's another Ikaris? What if they don't want to hear what we have to say?"
They deserve the chance to make their own decisions, to live their lives free from the control of Celestials. No one can know what they will do once they know, but what is important is that they have the choice.
Five hundred years ago, Druig led two opposing armies out of a burning city to create a paradise of his own design. For generations, their lives were simple, good, but none of those people had a choice. Just as Druig had no choice in following Ajak, as Ajak had no choice in following Arishem. A vicious, vicious cycle of control and abuse.
It has to end.
They can make it end.
"Yes, I'll come with you," he says and her heart soars. He takes a step back, a playful gleam in his eye. "Can't say I won't interfere, though. Or pick up a few things. Someone out there may have a matching ruby tablet to add to your collection of junk - "
Makkari elbows him in the ribs. She has no regrets, not even when he fakes being hurt for her benefit and she pretends she isn't laughing through her scowl. Nothing and everything has changed.
Maybe that is why it is the easiest, most natural thing in the world to lean in and close seven thousand years of distance with a kiss.