Lucretia doesn't even feel it when she falls. Warmth spills over her throat, soaking wetly into her soiled collar. I'm wearing white, she thinks. It's going to stain. Laughter inexplicably bubbles up in her chest but cannot make its way out of her throat. She gasps once, sharp, and then the world tilts funnily and she's lying on her back, arms crushed awkwardly beneath her. There's movement around her, people running and fighting and she can just glimpse the aura of the Flaming Raging Poisoning Sword of Doom out of the corner of her eye. Things are getting fuzzy, though, sort of far away and indistinct like she's trying to look at the world through a layer of mist. The fog in her head Lucretia just managed to shake off in her prison cell floods back in.
It would be so easy to give in. Do it, says that weak voice in her. Do it. This is what you've wanted. Just think about how nice it will be to rest.
Lucretia has never been one to sit on the sidelines. She gasps again, straining to keep consciousness. Her deaths in the cycles were almost never messy, simply quick and clean, or, if they were drawn out, were out of starvation or dehydration or the like. She never really ended up covered in her own blood. It's sort of a novel feeling, if terrifying. She strains again, searching for air, for space in her lungs, for a way to reconnect her brain with her body and get out of here.
Someone is leaning over her now. The tip of a blond braid tickles her cheek. Oh, Lucretia thinks, unable to find her voice. Hello, Taako. Fancy meeting you here.
Taako, coming in and out of focus, looks wrecked. There's dirt and blood splattered across his cheeks and neck and he's taken a blow to the head at some point; his hairline at his right temple is a rusty red. She moves to touch it and gurgles in pain when her bound hands twist under her back. Taako's mouth is moving but her hearing is going a little crazy now, all tinny and sharp at the same time, like someone is rapidly lowering and raising the volume in her head. After a moment, she is lifted up and Taako's hand clutches at hers before the chains slip from her wrists. Immediately, her magic floods back into her veins, but even as it sparks in her heart, Lucretia knows it is too late. She's never been a healer.
Taako's face twists. He's leaning close now (maybe holding on to her? Lucretia isn't sure; she can't feel her limbs enough to be sure how she is positioned) and his face takes up most of her vision. His brow furrows and tears track through the dirt on his cheeks.
Even as she fights to breathe-and really, isn't that so funny, that it took this to make her realize she wants to live after all-Lucretia summons the strength to raise a shaking palm and plant it clumsy against the side of his face.
Lucretia rolls a death save and contemplates that this may not be such a bad way to go.
Five.
Taako isn't sure how he managed to get to Lucretia before Magnus or Barry. By all means they were ahead of him; hell, Carey should have been ahead of all of them. All he knows for sure is that he'd seen the knife go down-then red-red-red as the blood spat forth as if from a spigot-and Lucretia was looking at him and the orc was screaming and the elf was laughing-and he-
He doesn't remember much after that. But Taako can feel the exertion of his journey to the dais in his strained muscles, the way his magic feels depleted and sorely lacking. He's used most of his spellslots then. Maybe he should be more worried about blacking out in the middle of a battlefield but Lucretia-Lucretia.
Lucretia is in his arms, crumpled like a broken doll. Lucretia is in his arms, struggling to breathe. Lucretia is in his arms and she is dying. He can feel it, maybe the way Barry can feel the dead rising or Merle can feel the living hurt. Taako can feel the way she's fighting against whatever reaper is dragging her soul to the afterlife. Some angry thing in the back of his head shrieks at the idea that the Raven Queen would give some random reaper care of Lucretia when she died-Kravitz should get that honor, or Barry or Lup. When the day comes-not this day, not this one, please-then one of theirs will guide Lucretia to rest. No one else. No one.
"Lucy, come on." His own words reach his ears. He can't be sure how long he's been talking, hasn't realized he even was. She's in his arms again, just like she had been-this morning? Afternoon? Taako can't tell how much time has passed since his Rope Trick, it's all such a blur. "Hang on, okay? Just hang-hang on, Lucy, you can do this. You're gonna be fine, just fine, okay? But you gotta-you gotta fight for me. Fight this, Lucretia."
She's choking on her own blood now, her head settled into the crook of his elbow. Taako holds her like a child, settles her half across his lap and closes one hand over her throat. The liquid still flows, sluggish now, through his fingers. He's so sick of being covered in her blood. Taako can't even seem to hear the fight still going around them; he could be struck from behind at any moment and Taako would never see it coming. The shouts of their friends and their enemies seem so small now. Nothing matters but the pulse beating wildly under his fingers. He has to keep it going. He has to keep measuring it, because if he doesn't-if he takes his hands away-if he's distracted for even a moment, he could lose her. Taako could lose Lucretia.
He's been working so hard to keep her.
Lucretia rolls.
Fifteen.
Taako only blinks out of the haze that has settled over him when something touches his cheek. He looks up from where he's entranced by the gore of her neck-please, please, not now, not now, not ever, he'll give anything if he just doesn't lose another person-to meet Lucretia's gaze. Her brown eyes as soft and warm, near liquid as she fades under his palms. It's different from when she laid like this last time, closed off and resigned. Her palm feels papery and soft. She's not trying to leave him; her eyes tell him that much. But there's a dry acceptance there, a flickering candle allowing itself to gutter out, that Taako hates. She doesn't want to leave, but she is ready.
"Don't you give up on me, Madame Director." Taako snarls. His words catch as his breath hitches. Air whoops into his lungs, stalls in his throat before gusting back out. He tastes blood and isn't sure if it's his or hers. "You-you owe us, right? You owe me. So do this for me: stay alive. Stay with me, Lucy."
She rolls again and Taako clutches her close.
Eleven.
"Come on, come on," he whispers into her hair. Her palm rests on his face, a benediction. "Come on. That's it. Keep fighting. You have to stay, Lucretia. You have to stay. I can't lose you too."
Her next roll takes longer and he can feel her ribs against the forearm he has wedged under her back, expanding shakily before pausing. She lets her air go. She stops moving. Her face twitches for a second, expression going blank and a little confused. Lucretia isn't looking at Taako now, but through him, and he doesn't like whatever she sees. It puts a glint of fear in Lucretia's eyes. "No no no," he hisses, hysterical. Taako shifts her against his chest, shakes at her shoulder enough to snap her back to the moment. "No no, come on. Don't-don't-listen to me, Lucretia. Merle's right here, okay? He's right here and so is Barry and you'll be fine, okay? Just, please-just-you have to stay , Lucretia. You have to stay because-"
Natural one.
Taako's words die like ash on his tongue.
Lucretia's palm slips from his cheek and makes a dull thump as it hits the stone. The noise is swallowed by the sounds of the fight dying down behind their slumped forms. Taako's throat is closed, his mind blank, as he stares into her vacant eyes. Lucretia's face is slack now, that strange fear giving way to a dreadful peace in her expression. His stomach flips, then drops through the floor. He can't think, doesn't understand. She was just-she was just here. She was there, in his hands. He had her. He had her.
Lucretia is gone.
A body jostles his as Merle slides to his knees beside them. Taako has gone numb. It doesn't hurt. Nothing hurts except the cavity in his chest Lucretia left when she ripped out his heart and took it with her wherever she is now. She's gone and Taako can't follow. His fingers flex but he can't feel anything but pins and needles. He should close her eyes, right? He should-that's what they do on t.v., and he's Taako, you know, from t.v.? He should do that but then Lucretia would probably feel weird with him touching her face but probably not since Lucretia is dead and won't ever feel anything ever again.
Merle's voice buzzes in his ears and now there are other figures in front of him. Someone pries at Taako's fingers where he's clutching her body-it's Lucretia, not her body, she's here somewhere, he just has to find her-and Taako snarls, snaps his jaws like a crazed dog. Someone backs off but another person hauls against his shoulders and Merle is holding onto Lucretia-to Lucretia's corpse, oh Gods-and Taako has to let go. It feels like his ribcage cracks open. He writhes for a second in whoever's hold it is before his vision slowly returns to him, lets his eyes pick up on things that aren't Lucretia, dead on the floor. It's Lup, it's Lup who has Taako in her arms; he recognizes her hair, just like his, as she holds him. He shakes in her arms and he guesses she's sobbing against his back. His mouth tastes foul. He thinks he may vomit soon.
The orc is lying a few feet from their clumped group. Her one good eye is open, her head turned towards Lucretia, face still screwed up in a dying scowl. The Flaming Raging Poisoning Sword of Doom is cleaved through her abdomen straight into the stone below. He feels a flash of righteous pleasure but then he catches the edge of Lucretia's blue robes in the corner of his eye, and then Taako really is sick to his stomach. He hopes muzzily that Istus will forgive them for desecrating her temple.
Lup's hold on him loosens as he loses the contents of his stomach, for which Taako is grateful. He can barely breathe as it is, he can't fight against the weight of both his emotions and hers too.
And then something catches his gaze. There are a few stragglers from the Ragged Harmony fleeing; he can see them now his back isn't turned, can see how Kravitz is the only one not with their group on the dais, instead taking the initiative to go after the rest of the enemy with extreme prejudice. The silver point of his scythe is fascinating. It cuts through Taako's numbness, makes him come to the present. The tackiness of the blood all over him, the way his ankle screams like he's broken it, the way his wand digs into the small of his back where he shoved it into his belt when he'd reached to catch Lucretia-
The elf who had been holding her dodges out of Kravitz's reach and slips out the double doors.
Taako tears after them without thought.
Things go hazy again but Taako can remember bounding across the room with incredible agility if he tries hard enough. He skips over bodies and weapons and ducks out of Kravitz's reach as his boyfriend tries to clasp him around the arm. The end of the elf's long hair whips out of sight around a bend as he skids into the hall but Taako is made fast by the grief and anger-pure rage, stuff he hasn't felt since Lucretia admitted she took Lup from him and now Lucretia won't be around to make mistakes and fuck up her apologies ever again. He sprints after them and hurtles around the corner, wand out and ready.
The elf is at the end of the corridor, brought up short by the disappearance of their exit. Their robes, white and stained now by Lucretia's life blood, twist around their knees as they whirl to face him.
"You killed Lucretia." The sentence punches its way out of his chest and the world is too blurry, too colorful and colorless and he tastes metal and the air is crackling and everything is so, so overwhelming that Taako can't even enjoy the terror in their eyes. "You took her from us."
"We- we did what was right," they say and Taako's anger flares out of him, a snapping, popping web of electric power that sweeps the room in pale light. They keep talking. "So many of our families- people we loved- died because of her. She didn't do anything to stop them dying. Wasn't Lucretia supposed to bring back balance? Now she has."
Taako's mind whites out for a long, long time.
When his brain comes back online, he's moving before he can even register it.
"She's my family ," Taako howls. "You fucked with me and mine and now you're gonna pay."
Flame wreathes the elf and Taako watches, dispassionate and consumed by rage all at once, as they scream. Their flesh nearly melts off the bone and Taako stands still and watches, wicked thrills going up his spine. His head is clear and foggy at the same time. His stomach tries to revolt at the smell but he pushes it back and looks on as they are reduced to so much dust. His grief claws at him, demands more, more blood, more viscera, more penance. He will find all of them; Taako is going to skin them one by one, and make the others watch. He will make them recite Lucretia's favorite poems and break a bone each time they get a word wrong. He's going to find whatever each member of the Ragged Harmony loves most and murder it.
And then he'll do just a little more. For Lucretia's sake. She was always so thorough, after all.
The cavity inside of Taako yawns ever wider.
"I love you," he finishes without Lucretia there to hear him. "You have to stay because I love you."