The Shotgun Approach

Chapter 35: Catalyst

A/N: Everything is falling apart. Enjoy.

Trigger Warnings: Gore. Depression/anxiety. Self-deprecating thoughts. I didn't edit this, so if it's horrible, yell at me.

. . .

"Now would be a great time to have my powers back," I groaned, hauling a large chunk of building stone off a man's leg.

Hiei pulled him out of the wreckage, allowing me to drop it back down and wipe my grimy hands on my borrowed pair of jeans. Hiei didn't say anything in reply, his silent treatment having spanned our three days of no sleep effort to help the survivors still in the city.

Thankfully, Yusuke told me he managed to warn enough people ahead of time that the targeted part of the city was mostly able to evacuate. But so many ended up staying behind, and many of them were demons. Remarkably few parts of the city remained unscathed in some way, and the safe ones held an abundance of people and medical personnel. They didn't take down the entirety of Sarayashiki, but they might as well have.

Hiei worked tirelessly, only returning to safe havens to refill his supplies and check his equipment. He radioed in patients that needed transport and used me to do most of the dirty work.

I didn't mind.

It was bizarre watching him work; to see how much time he spent furthering his education even after I resigned. He was extremely skilled now, his hands moving on instinct and his mind even faster. He knew demon biology far better than the last time I worked with him, and I watched in awe as he saved person after person.

At the end of each day, his hands and clothing were drenched in blood, but he did not wash up or sleep. He would eat a quick meal and carried water on him always, but I knew any moment now he would drop. That was what I was waiting for—the inevitable.

"You need to rest," I said for what felt like the millionth time.

He said nothing, as usual, and continued to splint his patient's leg. When Hiei had the bandages wrapped tightly, and the bleeding stemmed, he called in the exact location and moved on.

The ruins in the city were filled with the dead as well.

This part of Sarayashiki was a wasteland now.

And it was all my fault.

I wanted to believe it was a dream or some grand hallucination of my own mind's conjuring. Surely this wasn't real?

Many fires still raged, and there was little to do about the ice or the collapsing buildings. Not without an army of Elementa behind me.

Yusuke called in everyone he knew—Wind Master Jin, Ice Master Touya, the monks from Tourin with Hokoshin spearheading most of the search teams. Yomi and Mukuro were here as well, with people of their own. The ex-kings and their queens, Yusuke's friends from the next city over, Mushiyori, and many more.

Anyone who harbored loyalty for Yusuke was here, in his human city, saving his people.

The night I woke up, Hiei told me Siobhan's rehab was only one of the hundreds of buildings that they targeted. They were looking for high profile demons with loyalties to the king, to either force them to defect or to kill them should they choose not to comply. It was why Siobhan was targeted in the first place. Having me there as well was a bonus to them.

I knew Einarr managed to gather quite a few Elementa who were against my father. I was just unaware of the correct scale.

To do something like this...

We were a stronger breed than most demons—hardy, a cut above in power alone if nothing else. Ten of the weakest of them could have created this much destruction if they put their mind to it.

Except it was more than ten, it was hundreds of soldiers—human, demon, Elementa—that stripped the most integral part of the city for all its worth. Einarr, with Magni behind him, spent these past months finding a small army and sneaking them slowly through the wormholes yet to be seen by Spirit World. A sudden massive influx of demonic energy would have been spotted a thousand miles away, but not one or two here and there, coming in at odd hours and immediately hiding.

It was sickening.

I made these people hate me. I pushed them away and turned my back on my life's work the second I caught even the briefest whiff of information on my son. And where did it lead me?

Here. This ruined city and its ruined people and its broken king.

All my fault. All of it.

Like Hiei, I refused to sleep, and the hallucinations got worse and worse. I saw ancient beings crawling between collapsed walls and creatures from my past clawed at the heels of my boots with phantom hands. I knew they weren't real, but my skin still crawled at the sight of them, at the knowledge that I saw things I could not control.

I itched the insides of my arms until they were raw and trudged on, always a few steps behind the fire demon. I did my best to hide my current condition from Hiei, but even if he noticed he didn't care.

It was later that day when I noticed Hiei was starting to rub at his chest, that his breathing was labored, and his face strained, sweat dripping down his temples. He tagged another dead demon and called them in, knowing Jin would swoop down to retrieve the body at some point. He swore beneath his breath and wiped the sweat from his brow, gritting his teeth through the obvious pain he was in.

"Hiei," my voice was sharp, and it finally lured his attention. He turned to eye me over his shoulder, gaze set in a glare.

"I will rest when I've found them all," he said.

"A quarter of the city is in ruins; you can't keep going like this. You're going to kill yourself!"

He barked a laugh that held no humor. "One less person you will have to bloody your hands with."

Swiftly, I moved to wrap my hands in his shirt, and he was so tired he didn't bother to try to dodge me. I stared him in the eye for the first time in days, saw how dazed he was, and gripped all the harder. "My hands have already been stained with your blood, more than once. I have saved your life. I would never take it."

He sneered at me, finally extricating himself from my hold with a harsh jerk. He moved on, traversing the crumbling city on unsteady feet and once again ignoring me.

He wouldn't last much longer.

At midday, we stopped to eat a light lunch the ferry girl Botan insisted we take. Hiei inhaled his rice balls in record time and waited impatiently for me to finish mine, eyeing me while chugging a bottle of water. Some of it dribbled from the corner of his lips and down his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, slipping the reusable container back into his pack.

His face was flushed, and his eyes glassy.

Any moment now.

I took my time eating, stopping to take sips of water that seemed to take me forever to swallow. Hiei grew restless, rising to his feet to pace, but he never said a word.

It seemed the silent treatment was back in full swing.

Hearing him drop to the ground was more of a relief than it should have been. Because I was feeling spiteful, I finished my food before I went to retrieve him from the rubble.

Hiei was asleep, finally, after days of him working injured and without rest of any kind. His face, however, was not as peaceful as I hoped it would be. He was still in pain, and this alone made me pick him up like a damsel and cradle him as if he was glass. He would have hated every second of it.

I sunk to sit on a chunk of a building, carefully balancing the fire demon while I plucked my radio from my belt. It crackled when I hit the button to communicate our location and let them know I would be returning to camp so they could gather the supplies I needed to treat the foolish idiot in my lap. When that was said and done, I lifted his shirt to check the stitches I placed less than a week ago and saw the skin around them was inflamed and irritated.

Damn him.

Hefting him up once more, I began the long trek back to our base camp, which was just Yusuke's apartment building. I ignored the creatures reaching out to clutch at my heels, ignored the fatigue that ate its way through me, and carried him home.

We were greeted at the front of the building by a crew of EMTs and firefighters and demon healers. I brushed them off, looking for familiar faces, and finding none; I moved on further into the building and up the flights of stairs to Yusuke's apartment. The king wouldn't be home, but Yukina wrenched the door open before I could so much as juggle her brother to reach the door handle. She ushered us inside and situated Hiei in Yusuke's bed.

"He should have let me heal this days ago," she groused, her hands passing over his now bare chest and doing what I couldn't do the night Yusuke brought him to me.

"He's far more stubborn than any man I've ever met," I said, sinking to the floor and leaning my back up against the bed. "I had to wait until he passed out to bring him here. He wouldn't listen."

Yukina tutted and continued to work; her lips turned down into a frown of concentration. When the wound healed enough to remove the stitches, I assisted in plucking them out with deft fingers; a gentle touch reserved only for my patients. When completed, we worked together to wrap a sterile bandage around his torso, allowing the wound to heal the rest of the way on its own.

"It's going to scar," she murmured, almost sad. "Hiei already has so many scars."

Yukina ran her fingers across old wounds, wistful and forlorn. She took in the sight of her brother, hurt and exhausted. I could see Yukina's eyes how she wished so badly to have been there for him through all of his hurts.

"I am glad he has you," I blurted out, staring down at the fire demon so I wouldn't have to see her reaction. "He could use more people in his corner."

"And I was hoping you would be one of them." Her voice was cold, holding an edge, not unlike her brother's.

Her eyes, so similar to his, bit into me. The glare would have made Hiei proud.

Nodding, I acknowledge her anger and then brushed past her to leave the room. A shower was much needed.

I quickly washed, saving hot water for others' use, and meandered back towards the living room. I stood at the bay windows, nude, water dripping from my hair to run in rivulets down my skin. Tiredness seeped into my bones until I could feel my eyes drooping, sight going watery around the edges. But I could still see the king as he approached his building, a troupe of men behind him lugging in the latest wounded from Yusuke's retrieval efforts.

For a time, I watched him, a natural-born leader, his charismatic nature making people want to follow him and hang off his every word. His face had grown scruffy with stubble, and he was as covered in dirt and debris as everyone else.

It dawned on me that I'd watched this boy grow into a man.

Yusuke Urameshi wasn't a teenage boy hellbent on causing trouble anymore.

He was a king. A man. A leader.

It reminded me of why I'd so badly wanted him to win each tournament. I saw the potential inside him; the willingness people had to follow him to the ends of the earth.

This relief effort spoke volumes of that. Demons who never thought twice about stepping into the human world were here now, helping Yusuke's people just because he asked them to. It was a feat none before him would have even attempted.

I pressed my hands to the glass, and he looked up, pinning me in place with his gaze as he drew in the sight of me.

It was hours later when he eventually came upstairs.

I was settled on his couch now, wearing nothing but a shirt which only just covered my ass. The television was on, playing because Koenma patched it through to the spirit world so we could see real-time updates on the situations in the city, almost like a multitude of surveillance cameras. I wasn't paying much attention, busy picking at the skin around my fingernails, and trying to find a distraction from the gnawing hunger in my stomach that had nothing to do with food.

He rounded the couch, stinking of all manner of things and covered in dirt from head to toe.

"Where is he?" he snapped, tone of voice on edge and exhausted.

I pointed towards his bedroom, and Yusuke marched by me, intent on checking in with his friend before he returned to take a shower.

Freshly washed and dressed in only sweats, he came out with a towel wrapped around his shoulders and slumped down onto the couch beside me. "Can we forget for a few minutes that I'm angry with you?"

I raised my eyebrows at him, but he didn't wait for a reply, leaning far sideways until he was laying on my lap. His wet hair fanned across my bare thighs, and I couldn't help myself as I began to run my fingers through it, combing out the tangles.

He burrowed in further, the scruff on his face a harsh rasp against my skin, but I didn't mind.

I did not comment when I felt hot tears a moment later. They dripped down my thighs and onto the fabric of the couch, leaving behind a dark stain. The pain ebbed off him in flowing waves, and I continued to run my fingers through his hair, listening to him suppress sobs and feeling his shoulders shake with the effort.

The wish to tell him I was sorry lodged itself into my throat until it was hard for me to swallow. But what good would it do? There was not a word complex enough to apologize for this. Not in any language. It was beyond forgiveness.

Eventually, we drifted off to sleep like that, my fingers buried in his hair and his head in my lap and tear stains drying on both our faces.

. . .

Waking from a night of dreamless sleep was a dream within itself. I couldn't recall the last time it happened without the drugs, and it was like a breath of fresh air. The sound of snoring drew my attention next, and I found Yusuke still curled up on the couch, his face buried in my stomach, each breath hot through the thin material of my cotton shirt.

I watched him for a time, just listening and waiting.

Hiei wandered out of the bedroom sometime later, his hair a mess and eyes crusted from sleep. He looked a million times better than he had the past few days, and for that, I was grateful. It was worth it to lug him all the way back here.

He looked annoyed, eyes skipping over the scene on the couch before the leftover exhaustion took over. He flopped down beside us, not disturbing Yusuke in the slightest, and lifted the king's legs to drape them over his thighs.

Hiei stretched, arching his back into the couch and bringing his arms above his head, muscles bulging. I turned away, pretending I wasn't eyeing him like a starving woman and went back to running my hands through Yusuke's hair in the hopes it would wake him up.

"Don't bother," Hiei said. "He'll sleep just as long as his body needs."

Trusting Hiei's judgment, we sat on the couch in silence I would almost call amicable...if it wasn't for the fact I could feel the fire demon's eyes boring into the side of my face. My fingers paused their idle movements against Yusuke's head until I drew them away entirely, placing them carefully at my sides. It must look...wrong. I didn't have the right to be touching him, for any purpose, let alone one so intimate.

Hiei's eyes still lingered, waiting for something even I was not sure about.

When I began to speak, his gaze never averted. If anything, it grew all the harsher.

"I never wanted to betray you. Any of you." My words sounded choked and strained, my throat aflame and constricted. "The day I left with Einarr...you don't know what happened in between. You only know what you saw, and I have very little evidence to convince you otherwise—"

Hiei cut me off sharply, the arms once stretched across the back of the couch now reached for me, his hand forcefully turning me to face him. "Allow me to see...for myself."

Looking him in the eye became impossible. The red of them swam with the need for knowledge, the need to know precisely what happened the day I left. Part of me wanted to give it to him freely, to let him see everything he wanted, but it was a vulnerability I was not so sure I was willing to reveal.

Just days ago, he wanted me to prostrate myself for the king, to take another brand, and give up another integral part of myself.

I regretted not accepting those terms now, my foolish pride having gotten in the way. But this, I realized, might be a way to work around it. All I wanted was to regain their trust after months and months of being a pariah.

But, I supposed being a pariah was better than a death sentence.

The thought of giving my mind over to Hiei made the blood rush a little too fast in my veins. I could count on one hand how many people had seen me in such an openly exposed state, but I also knew this was the only way he would begin to see me as something other than his enemy.

Without the drugs...my mind was his for the taking. There was nothing there to protect it without my energy or abilities to call on. I was never one for meditation or mastering the mind; perhaps if I was, I would not have turned to drugs in the first place. So, with that in mind, I lifted my face and stared him in the eye. Before I could so much as voice my permission, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to mine.

The Jagan opened, its purple light the final thing I saw before I was transported along with him, stuck inside my own head.

The lack of control over it made nausea roil in my gut, but I endured, watching in the background as he weeded through memories of hallucinations and drug-induced hazes. He spent an unusual amount of time lingering on a memory of me drawing an almost lifelike portrait of himself, pausing it, and starting it back up again several times before he finally banished it.

Hiei took what he could, viewed things I would sooner he hadn't, but I kept my mouth shut and allowed it. If this was what it took...

So be it.

When he came upon my meeting with Einarr, he paused again. A lump formed in my throat. Would he still reject me? Would he still refuse to see the truth of it?

My thoughts spilled around us, feelings and words, and images. Hiei ignored them, brushing them aside like insects on a hot summer day. He began to play the memories of Einarr, from start to finish. Then he rewound them and started anew. Three times he watched them, and three times I felt unease crawl its way up from my stomach to my throat, doing its best to choke me.

When he went to play it a fourth time I broke the connection, rebounding suddenly back into the real world and feeling Yusuke begin to shift in my lap, I reached out and grabbed the fire demon roughly by the arms, startling all three of us. Hiei, for his credit, recovered far quicker than Yusuke, who shot up from his position and smashed me in the chin with the top of his head.

I groaned, rubbing at my jaw and waving off his apologies, rising from the couch on wobbly, sleep prickly legs. I could still feel him there, like a ghost, my mind holding onto a phantom presence I wanted nothing more than to eradicate. Why had he watched it so many times? What was he expecting to find? Did he think I altered it in some manner? Was I so high during all my encounters with Einarr that it didn't make sense to him?

"Why, Hiei?" I rasped, turning to glimpse him as he placed his head in his hands, and Yusuke looked all the more confused.

"What the hell did I miss?"

Clearing my throat, I took my leave, retrieving the clothes Yukina kindly washed for me the evening before. Once dressed, I made my way out into the city alone.

They did not follow me.

Four hours I distracted myself by moving stone and metal, digging bodies out of holes in the ground, and searching for survivors. I took the pills Siobhan gave me and drank water to keep the hunger in my stomach from consuming me.

I did everything but think about the two men who seemed to spend more time in my mind than I did.

Hiei's reaction confused me, but thinking about it wasn't going to get me anywhere.

Walking through the wasteland, something made my hackles rise, an instinctual screaming in my ears alerted me to some change in the air. I heard the footsteps before I saw the thing come striding out of the dust, still lingering after days of building pieces falling away from broken structures.

The man carried a spear with a large blade at its end across his shoulders. It took one look at it to tell me it was the cause of the scar across Hiei's chest.

Without the ability to sense energies, I went by sight alone. Higher than an S class. Big...but I knew he must be fast. Faster than me if he was able to get the jump on Hiei. The fact he was still lingering in the city told me he was left behind to finish his work.

I wasn't going to let that happen.

Leather armor covered his chest, legs, face, and arms right down to his hands. He didn't carry a shield and probably had no need for one. Everything was well made.

A higher rank. A formidable foe.

It was no wonder Hiei lost.

Standing my ground, I barked, "Who are you?!"

He was at least three times the size of me. Without energy, there was little hope I would beat him, but I couldn't let him pass either. This was turning out to be an incident far too similar to the one with Inkeri. I couldn't let it get that far this time. I must stop him here, now.

The man did not answer my question, he merely brandished his spear and continued to advance towards me.

Anger flooded me, the force of it unadulterated and unhinged. It tore its way through me until I was screaming, reveling in feeling so much after so long without. "You nearly killed someone I care deeply for! If you think I will let you pass, your ignorance will be your undoing!"

For all my bravado and I was not so naive to think I could win this fight. I was skilled with a weapon and no slouch with hand to hand combat...but fighting a beast of his caliber without even the barest traces of power was pure suicide.

As he stalked towards me, walking deliberately slow as my head and chest screamed in unison for me to run, to turn around and not look back.

Never was I such a coward in my entire life.

My anger successfully cowed by my own deprecating thoughts; all I could do was stand my ground and wait to be cut in pieces. I wouldn't have to wait long.

So lost in my panic, I almost missed the crack of a whip and the sharp clang as the demon's helmet went flying off his head. The scent of roses and fresh-cut grass and all things green was faint over the char and stale odor of the city's current air, but it was there.

Much to my shame, I felt relief flood my system. Seeing Kurama standing only feet behind the brute, whip clutched in his hands and eyes, the color of gold made my breath catch for the briefest of moments. None of the King's Guards were to be trifled with. And I would say Kurama the least of all.

His prowess in a fight was only outweighed but his intelligence and cunning. All three created a lethal combination that would have me running with my tail between my legs should I ever be confronted with it.

Kurama cracked his whip again, striking out at the demon's feet as a warning. "You will not leave this place in one piece," he said, the darkness in his voice promising pain.

The fox circled around, turning the massive man's gaze away from me, tracking the far more significant threat. Hiei hadn't been prepared during their first encounter. Kurama lacked that particular disadvantage. Without a second thought, I conceded the fight over to him, his claim to the kill far more prominent than my own. Hiei was his friend after all, and they were thick as thieves. Pun intended.

Watching Kurama fight was like watching a dance. He sought to learn, to trip up, to whittle down. His opponent would eventually make a mistake, and that mistake would be his last.

It didn't matter the demon's name or who he was loyal to. I could smell Hiei's blood still coating his blade, mingled with the blood of many others, but it was a distinct scent I wouldn't forget in even a million lifetimes. There was no miscalculation as to his guiltiness.

The fight raged on, their movements and blows quick as lightning bolts and twice as dangerous. Twice I was forced to dodge as an errant blast of energy or stray murderous plant managed to veer off in an unintended direction. I watched on in fascination at the seeds Kurama pulled from his hair and grew into massive behemoths that dripped acid and screamed for its meal. The demon he fought was not an Elementa, and with all the movement, I still hadn't managed to get a clear look at his face.

It was as I tried to get a better look that a shift in the battle brought Kurama to his knees.

His opponent's scimitar split into three pieces, chains linking them together, and they made the blade just that much longer. Kurama was unable to predict the exact length in time and miscalculated his dodge. The edge struck with wicked precision, slicing open Kurama's Achille's tendon, deep enough that I could see the fox's blood spray across the filthy pavement.

Kurama called out, bringing his whip up to block, but the blade sliced clean through it.

A rookie mistake, or so I thought.

Until a plant spontaneously grew from beneath his enemy's feet, slicing him from crotch to the top of his head, his body slowly splitting to fall to the ground in halves.

The scene would have made most people's stomachs twist, if not downright make them ill. But I merely looked on with cold satisfaction. Kurama took the blow deliberately, his only miscalculation being where the scimitar would strike.

The fox stood on one leg, his face cold as he glared down at what remained of Hiei's near killer's body. "Let this be a warning for all others that harm the ones I care about."

And I took it as it was intended—a warning as much for me as it was to all of his teammate's enemies.

Kurama turned, dragging his useless leg behind him, and I took pity on him, springing up from my perch and crossing the remaining distance. I forced him to the ground and laid him down, his face finally contorting with the barest of winces.

"This needs to be stitched, but before that, cleaned thoroughly. It's highly susceptible to an infection."

"I will not be taken anywhere by that flying maniac Jin, do not even suggest it."

"Going back to base camp is the only way, I don't have the proper tools here. You will need surgery if you want to walk again."

Kurama lifted his head just to eye me with skepticism. "If you believe I have never been cut in such a manner before, you would be sorely mistaken."

"Doesn't mean this time won't be the last."

He huffed and flopped back down, dirtying his shiny red hair even further.

I radioed in for a means of transport, taking his silence as him conceding. He whispered something from beneath his breath as I cleaned the wound as best I could and tightly wrapped it, hoping to staunch the bleeding while waiting for help.

With nothing left I could do for him, I stood to inspect his latest victim.

The amount of blood soaking the ground was grotesque, but no more so than the body itself. I really only wanted a clear look at his face to see if I recognized the hulking man, and thanks to the clean slice of Kurama's plant, it only took me a moment to quite literally piece the man's features together.

"This is one of Einarr's confidants," I breathed. The eyes were unmistakable. "Gunnar...?"

But last time...he used an ax, hadn't he? Why the sudden change to a scimitar of all things? Ignoring the gore before my eyes, I searched for other markings that might clue me into who this man was. He looked so similar to the brute I'd met so many months ago, but something wasn't adding up.

"Who are you?" I whispered, crouching over the body and running my fingers through the still-warm blood.

I picked up a wrist, flipping his arm over. There, on the soft bit of flesh between palm and forearm, was the markings all of Einarr's followers seemed to have.

All but his inner corner.

They were not marked because they were not his slaves.

But were they truly Einarr's? Or were they Magni's...my son's?

My son's...

The markings were like a chain...a connection. Not a form of mind control, but it was physical in some manner. At one point, the boys even considered it being necromancy, and that was the reason behind the bombings.

But now we knew it was much simpler than that. It was just another form of genocide, an act of such pure hatred and foulness that only someone genuinely evil could commit it.

That man was the flesh of my flesh. He carried my blood in his veins.

In the end...

This indeed was all my fault, without a single shadow of a doubt.

It was a product of every single choice I made from my early adulthood till now.

If I followed my family's laws, if I never met Artair, if I never pursued him...if I never loved him...none of this would have happened. Hundreds of lives would have been saved. Thousands, even.

Thanks to my poor choices...

The itch hit a crescendo, turning to a need so loud I could taste the pill dust on my teeth. My stomach twisted violently, and my vision blurred at the edges till only a pinpoint remained.

All rational thought fled in violent haste until I was left with baser instincts, more animal than man.

The brand on my back burned with a fire so hot I hoped the flame would consume me. My core turned molten, the feeling akin to that of flaying skin. I might have screamed, but I did not hear it, nor did I hear as Kurama called helplessly from the ground.

The vines around my arms and legs, used to restrain me, only made me fight harder. I could taste it on my tongue—blood and carnage and the acrid tang of melted suffering as it was shot into my veins. I wanted to be free of this, of all of it.

A voice pierced my mania, the sound almost harsh it was so cold. "Taking the easy way out? I always knew you were a coward."

In my mind. Digging inside my head. Ripping out feelings and thoughts and memories.

His arms spread wide, his face a twisted mask stuck between anger and hatred, the red of his eyes so dark they might as well have been black. "This, all of it, is your fault! So...what do you plan to do about it? Will you run like the pathetic coward you are? Or will you use what is left of your worthless life to make things right?"

On my knees, my fingers dragged through dirt and debris, crushing it in my fists as I shook. My sweaty palms turned it to a paste I was forced to wipe off on my jeans, hands shaking. It didn't exactly work, and a great deal of it was left behind when I dragged those hands through my loose hair seconds later. I didn't care. I sat, gasping in breath after ragged breath, willing the blood in my veins to calm down. The radio at my hip crackled to life, and the voice of Shou Warner emerged, only slightly distorted by a layer of static.

"The sweep of the northern side of the destruction zone is complete. No enemies and no more survivors."

Shou's voice was a sound for sore ears, and I felt the last fleeting sting of the itch burn its way out. Ignoring the group gathered around me, I snatched my radio off my belt and held it to my lips. "Copy that, Shou. Make your way back to home base."

It was a line out of a cheesy action flick, and for a long minute, there was no reply.

Until, "Ettie?" the word tentative and almost sad.

"Yeah, kid. It's me."

We traveled back to Yusuke's building, Kurama hefted on Kazuma's back who Ettie hadn't seen in two days. Hiei walking beside a weary Yusuke, the two of them in whispered conversation. And I took up the rear, my arms wrapped around my chest so tight I was squeezing my own shoulders.

My name was Etternia, the once sole heir to my father's legacy. Chosen by the goddess Freya. Wife of an English noble.

And now—The Catalyst.

It would be my only legacy.

The demon who brought on the end of the human world without any intention of ever doing so. Just because I couldn't keep my heart in check or my legs closed. I was a disgrace.

I thought I was so damn smart. I thought I could hide the fact I was enraptured by Yusuke Urameshi from the moment I saw him. I thought I could ignore that, use him and his closest allies to further my own goals. I thought I could break it off quickly afterward, leaving him none the wiser. And even if he was, it wouldn't matter because I wouldn't have feelings for him!

Now here I was—a failure, a liar, powerless, and stuck. I ruined and burnt every single bridge I ever crossed.

God, I wanted drugs. To smoke, to drink. Anything.

Anything.

The thought occurred to me, when I finally looked up from my feet to stare into the heated gaze Hiei was menacing me with that there was something else.

Something perhaps just as dangerous as the rest.

I licked my lips, nibbling off a piece of dry skin, and mulled it over.

There was no doubt I held the type of personality that became easily addicted. But in a twisted sort of way, that was the only con of my plan I could see at the moment. I met Hiei's gaze and felt my lips dip up into a smile I hoped was seductive. Red flicked down, then back up, and the glare intensified.

I guess it needed some work.

We trudged back to "base camp" listening to Kuwabara grumble about how Kurama was heavier than he looked, and dropped the invalid off at the medic's tent. Shou was there with his group, each of them getting minor wounds patched up, and he hopped up from his cot. He hesitated only a second before wrapping me up in a hug, and I gripped him back just as hard.

"I'm so happy you're alive," he breathed into my hair.

I chose not to lie to him, to agree when I didn't mean it. Instead, I stayed quiet, the word catalyst a hushed reminder in the back of my mind.

When he broke away, I gripped his cheeks in my palms and kissed him soundly on the mouth. "I am glad you are too, my friend."

I didn't mention the sick feeling in my stomach when my brain wondered 'for how long' or how when the time came, I probably wouldn't be there to save him. Shou was a good friend and a good person. The closest I had to kin here.

I greeted others in his group, many from the old team. I spent the night around a fire built outside all the tents. It was like a war camp, in the middle of something that was once so civilized, and the dystopian nature of it made me huddle all the closer to the flames. Sleeping in fits while sitting up, I didn't notice when the space beside me, once empty, now supported another body.

It wasn't who I expected other than in perhaps my wildest of dreams.

Blue eyes crinkled at the corners, skin tanned from toiling in the sun and hair just as dark as it always was. It was piled over one shoulder, loose strands catching in bits of his light leather armor. The smile that stretched over teeth only slightly crooked was genuine and bright. My breath whooshed from my best like I'd been punched in the gut.

"Artair?"

"Hey, sweetheart. Sorry I've been gone so long."

This was a dream. I knew it with certainty. Artair was frozen in a block of ice with a dagger in his stomach. He was in the burnt remains of Yggdrasil's forest.

The Artair here and now, reached over, his hand threading through my hair, pushing it away from my face. His skin was warm where it touched; human. It even smelt like him. I found myself leaning into it, craving it more so than any drug. I drifted in the sweetness of it, the heat of him and the fire and the distant crackling of wood. Our lips touched, soft at first and then greedy, desperate. A hunger old and familiar consumed me, and I crawled my way into his lap, laughing at the absurdity of it all but wanting to enjoy it all the same.

Artair's hands gripped my hips and pressed me against him, our chest's flush and fingers grasping any exposed skin.

Dream or otherwise, I would enjoy it while it lasted.

Even when his hands burnt where they touched, and the edges of the illusion grew cold.

I was Etternia, the Catalyst.

And if Hiei wanted to fuck me under the guise of my dead husband...I would let him.

. . .

A/N: I know ya'll probably hate my guts so hard right now. I hate myself too, muchachos, so it's okay. Ettie is dealing with some heavy stuff. She isn't sure who she is anymore or how to get back to that person if she even wants to. As for the ending, well, you'll see what happens (about two years from now dudes when I update again. Jk. I swear).