Chapter Eighteen:
Fire in the Blood

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I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back
The less I give the more I get back
Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise
I don't have a choice but I'd still choose you
-"Poison and Wine" by The Civil Wars

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Losing…just wasn't in him. He couldn't not win. Old habits and muscle memory had him picking the winning cards before he even realized he was doing it. The sleight of hand, misdirection, the quick cut of the deck—it was all second nature to him. Ash was left trembling in silent, seething rage as she drew yet another crappy hand. Really, she was fantastic at keeping her emotions masked on hunts, against enemy parties of any and all sizes, and generally, just…everything else that wasn't poker. She had a terrible poker face for, ironically, poker itself.

She sucked, quite simply put, worse than he did at archery. He could quite honestly say that, being as skilled as he was. It was just so fantastic that he was better than her at something. Poker was his one triumph over her and his alone. And yet, he was supposed to be losing, which was the irony in all of this. He wanted to prove he was capable of hunting well enough on his own without her overlooking his every move. He's done it before, but against a larger prey animal, it would boost his credence with her. Maybe then she'd ease up on him at the range during practice hours and—

He pursed his lips at the cards in his hands. She was resting her chin atop her fist, her elbow on the table, eyes boring into him from across the table. She was losing. And he was winning.

Why hadn't he suggested the hunt for himself and her the kiss? Why couldn't Ash, for just once, fall neatly into the vague category of clichéd expectations? How in the hell did that get all twisted up, he wondered. He thought most women wanted to be kissed…then again, Ash wasn't like most women. She wasn't a hopeless romantic, nor was she the damsel in distress type, waiting to be rescued. No, she was more like the knight on horseback, charging head on to fight the dragon attacking the castle.

She's the one who normally does the rescuing. It was hardly ever the other way around…

"What? Another winning hand? Again?" She drawled, her tone clipped and annoyed.

He sighed, laying out the cards out on the table. Somehow, victory just didn't taste as sweet this time around. "Yes."

She threw her own cards into the air without fanfare. They fell without ceremony. One even smacked her upside the head with its sharp corner, but she paid it no mind.

"Well, that's game. I fucking suck. You are not even trying," she complained.

"I actually wanted you to win, for once. I was hoping for the hunt."

"Yeah, so not going to happen now."

He frowned at her, wilting. "Will it ever?"

"What, anytime soon? Probably not."

"I did just fine when I had to hunt while you were out of commission!"

"You hunted small things just fine, but you currently don't have the skill to cut it when it comes to hunting a full grown, healthy bull Trike. You just don't. You have other strengths, don't get me wrong. But archery at the fine-tuned, fast-paced coordination and level I work at? You don't have it yet."

He pushed himself from the table, shuffling the cards together into the deck. He stooped to pick up the cards Ash had so unceremoniously scattered on the ground as well.

"Thank you so much for instilling such confidence into me. Really, it's inspiring."

"Allen…"

"I hunted just fine; I did, I know I did! And you-you…" He straightened, scowling down at her. Her gaze softened as she regarded him quietly, unflinching in the wake of his unceremonious snapping. Slowly, she stood, her gaze briefly cast aside to look at the cards on the floor and table.

"Yes, you did. You did great hunting for small prey. But hunting a bull isn't easy, even for someone like me. It's not sensible either. Not in a lot of ways. It's pretty dangerous and I don't like using the pack against healthy members of the herd. I could easily lose half of them by attempting to take a full grown bull Trike down. A lot of things could go wrong. I wouldn't want you to get hurt because of some mishap, either."

He stopped short when she stepped up to him, hands gently laid on his chest to calm him. The soothing heat from her palms was enough to give him pause. Her words helped some, too.

"Maybe one day, you'll be up there in skill to do just that. But today, tomorrow, next week…they ain't your days. I had a few hundred years to practice and get good at what I do. You've only had four. Just…take it easy. You'll get there. You'll see."

Allen felt his earlier frustrations drain in an instant. He considered her words, eventually realizing she was right. He nodded a few times.

"Then I intend to do just that, before I leave."

"If…that's what you want. But you have to get better with practice. You hold back a lot and it's screwing you up."

He gave her a pointed look, but she only smirked at him.

"Those drills you ran…during the bet the other day. Do you think we could try those again? It was different from how we usually run our course on the range."

She blinked before smiling. It was easier going than her sly smirk. "I don't see why not."

He beamed back. "Great!"

That thrilled him long enough to distract him from the fact that he had won and hadn't really gotten anything out of it. Nothing of monetary value. No upcoming hunt. Not even a kiss.

Not that I wanted one in the first place, he amended later that night as he bedded down, thinking about lost rewards. It was a joke prize.

It didn't make him feeling any less disappointed that for once he didn't get to walk away with a prize at the end of a winning hand.

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He jerked awake at the fit of half-formed screams from the other chamber. He settled, realizing it was simply Ash, and then felt guilty moments later after the fact.

He's known about her nightmares for quite a while, but he also knew even without her telling him, that she'd kick his ass if he ever openly acknowledged them. He's only ever admitted to knowing about them to her once, and she had luckily been too distracted to consider that fact. He doubted she remembered.

Ash didn't react well when it came to comfort, whether she was giving it or receiving it. Not in the way familiar with people, anyways. That, and one of the raptors would normally chase him away if he tried to come near. There was usually always one and he had to wonder if she had that system worked out as having them for her own brand of comfort. He learned after the first few times to grudgingly leave things be, to pretend to not notice, as much as it pained him to do so.

Allen was nearly lulled to sleep by a longer stint of silence, but he jerked back awake at the next howl she made. Where were the raptors? He was sure one of them was staying the night. He could have sworn it was Carver he saw earlier, but…no. No, that was a few nights before, now that he thought about it. Some days, the raptors were completely gone, but she slept just fine.

More often than not, though…

Allen slid off his bed and padded quickly out of his room, pausing often as he slowly approached Ash's room across the way. For a long, stressful moment, there was nothing but silence.

Maybe she'd fallen back asleep. He hesitated, teetering on the choice between staying a little longer and heading back when he heard sobbing.

"Stop…stop, please, stop it…"

Allen pushed the curtain back and was pulled back into the shadows of another room. He could already tell it was empty of any raptors. He wasn't being driven away. Ash was curled into a tight ball on her bed, tangled in her sheets and shaking. She kept muttering the same thing, begging, pleading. She sounded so…so broken.

Ash didn't sound like herself at all.

She sounded scared, lost, and hurt.

He reached out for her and learned that this was a mistake, first and foremost. Second, she apparently slept armed. Of course. Why would he have expected anything less of her? She may not have the ability to turn her fingers into blades, but she could whip one seemingly out of nowhere just as quickly.

She was out of bed as quick as a wink with a desperate roar, had him pressed to a wall, her arm braced to his chest to keep him pinned, a knife to his throat. Heat radiated off of her until it was almost unbearable and he thought, for one utterly terrifying second, that he was burning alive. She's killing me, she's trying to burn me—!

That realization came to pass when he felt no flames licking at him and he was not burning. It was simply just Ash and she radiated pure heat, bordering on igniting. She had no worries. She was fireproof. He was not so confident at remaining intact if he couldn't get her to calm down.

"Ash—it's me. It's Allen."

Gingerly, he reached up and prodded at her arm braced against him and he could feel just how hot she was to the touch. He had to pull away eventually; his naked hand was beginning to tingle unpleasantly from the sensation. There was an inferno just waiting beneath the surface, begging for release, he could sense it.

Strained moments passed between them. She was breathing heavily, like she'd just run a marathon. He felt her shudder and the knife was suddenly gone and so was the crushing weight on his chest.

"What're you doing here?"

Her voice was so quiet, he could barely hear her.

"I—you were having a nightmare," he started. "I thought you kept one of the raptors with you for this."

"They're out," she simply said. He could sense her stare on him. There were some forms of darkness he just couldn't see through, training or no. He could just barely make out her shape, a shadow hiding against the shadows. He knew that she had no such qualms. She had perfect night vision. Her eyes were better equipped for the darkness than his ever would.

"Clearly," he replied dryly, straightening and dropping his hand from his neck. "Are you…all right?"

"Peachy. You should go."

"Ash—"

"No, just…just go. I don't need any coddling."

"How is my showing concern for you 'coddling'?" He huffed back. It was understandable she didn't like seeking comfort. That was fine. It wasn't that she lashed out at him in an attempt to ward him away from the more sensitive parts of her. Every time he showed concern regarding her well-being, she did this. She was so neglectful of herself sometimes. "Maybe if you talked about it, instead of bottling it up…"

"There's nothing to talk about. I don't even remember anything. Just…go, Allen. Please."

Judging by the tone of her voice, he could already sense she was starting to shut out external conversations and he heard the squeak of the mattress as she sat down.

"I'm not leaving you alone."

"You're such a goddamned stubborn brat, you know that?" She said, and even if he couldn't see her, he knew she had a scowl on her face. He heard it in her the tone of her voice. She also sounded rather resigned. He smiled thinly.

"Takes one to know one."

"There's the stupid."

He scowled and stuck his tongue out at her.

"I can see that."

"I know. That's why I did it."

He groped for the bed and nearly recoiled when he accidentally touched leg instead. A hand struck at his wrist, quick as lightning, and yanked him over. He collided with the mattress in an ungraceful heap.

"Stop trying to cop a feel. Jesus…"

"It was an accident."

"Mmm-hmm." She replied flatly. He had barely sat himself down when she pressed flush up against him, and the blazing heat she had conjured earlier was no more. It was, once again, the strangely soothing balm she normally retained.

Light flickered into being. He glanced over to see a candle on her dresser had been lit. He looked back at Ash and saw that she was pale in the light.

"You're so blind in the dark. I'd let you bumble around some more if I was in the mood."

"So glad you're not," he griped back, although he didn't have the heart to sound sincerely upset. "What happened?"

"I told you, I don't remember."

"You were begging someone to stop doing something."

"Maybe it was a premonition of me begging you to stop inducting this pointless interrogation. Or it was the Spanish Inquisition that nobody saw coming. Not even the Spaniards."

He fell quiet. "I'm sorry I'm not much help. I'm trying, though."

She sighed. "I know. I just…don't like talking about something I can't even remember, even if it gets me rattled."

"You know you don't have to face it alone, right? I'm just across the way. I can't get in your head and even if you don't remember, I'd rather be an option for help."

She sat up straight and pulled away and with it, her immediate heat was gone as she stared up at him as she sarcastically intoned, "And what, I crawl into bed with you or something?"

That wasn't what he meant, actually. He meant to say if she wanted to talk and wasn't ready to face sleep again, he was available. If she wanted to just sit up with him, even, he was fine with that too. They didn't even have to talk. He'd gladly oblige in that as well.

Oddly, he didn't say all that. Instead, he was more surprised when he simply replied softly, "If you'd like."

She studied his face, like she was trying to detect the joke or the lie, and when she found none, she leaned back on him, this time wrapping her arm around his, her hand seeking his out. He let her fingers steeple together with his.

"Please don't go just yet."

He rested his head on top of hers. "I'll stay, if that's what you want."

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It was well into the morning when he woke up. Or he assumed it was. He was always an early riser.

The air lacked its usual cooked meats smell, or even the hint of coffee Ash brewed every once in a while. He blinked groggily, trying to shake the sleep from his eyes. Everything was deliciously warm and he wasn't quite ready to face the day just yet, not when he was perfectly comfortable, especially with Ash curled in his arms—

Allen froze.

The pieces quickly put themselves into place.

They'd fallen asleep.

That was roughly about the extent of it after Ash had woken from nightmares, and there had been no raptors to comfort her. She didn't want him to go and he had agreed to stay. He closed his eyes again, trying to memorize the curve of her body against his, the sound of her calm breaths as she slept, the way she gripped his arm against her like it was a lifeline…

It was almost a shame when she stirred after a while and he would be lying if he would be remiss to admit that the moment had ended. He didn't know how long he'd lain there, awake and actually enjoying the feel of another body pressed against him.

"How long were you awake?"

He peeped his eyes open at the quiet inquiry and sighed. Nothing ever seemed to get past her ears.

"A while," he admitted. "I didn't want to disturb you."

"Mmm. I kind of don't want to get up. I…kind of like this."

He was glad she couldn't see his face, that she was facing away from him. He felt a blush creep up his neck and burn his cheeks when he realized he enjoyed this quite a bit himself.

"We don't have to get up just yet, if you don't want to."

"Do you want to get up?"

"…not really."

As though sensing that was a sort of permission granted, she twisted in his arms until she faced him, sighing as she buried her face into the crook of his neck.

"Five more minutes, then…" she mumbled. He froze for only a split second, hesitating to reposition his arms back around her. Slowly, they eventually came down and he closed his eyes, reveling in the moment.

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"I honestly never thought I'd meet someone who could eat more than I could."

Ash blinked at him, a rueful smile slowly pulling at her lips.

"I double as a werewolf and a pyrokinetic. I'm burning through the food I ate already just from sitting here. And I'm going to be hungry again in a few hours."

Allen stared in dismay back.

"I'm always hungry, in short."

"That…sounds pretty familiar, actually." He said, looking at his left hand. "I've told you bits and pieces about Innocence, right?"

"A little," Ash said, bobbing her head. "And that-that name…whoever came up with that name should either be shot or given an award, I can't decide yet. I can come up with about a dozen jokes on that name already. And the list keeps growing."

He scowled at her, although it was half-hearted when she smiled and shrugged her shoulders. He sighed and returned his attention to his hand, and with barely a thought, invoked it. Sharp blades gleamed in the glow of the firelight.

"There were two types of accommodators for Innocence—well, three, actually. Parasite-types, equipment-types, and the newest one is—was…crystal-types." He motioned to his left hand. "I'm sure you can already guess that I'm a parasite-type."

"Obviously," she quipped back, eyeing the blades with a fascinated shine in her eyes. "I'm also going to guess that is why you also have an appetite that would put most werewolves to shame."

He didn't bother to hide his amused grin from her.

"'Most'?"

"I told you before, I double down on the food because it's coupled with my pyrokinetic…mutation. I probably ate a lot before the lycanthropy factor got added in." She sighed and fell onto her back and laid there on the ground. "I miss pizza."

"Pizza?"

"A wonderful, deliciously greasy delight that is so bad for you but tastes so damned good that you just can't help but not give a fuck if it clogs up your arteries and makes you die a slow, but totally-worth it death. Death by cheesy deliciousness."

"I miss Jerry's cooking. He could make anything. He could probably even make you pizza." Allen sighed. "I miss mitarashi dango."

"Tiramisu."

Allen laughed. "Doesn't that have rum in it?"

"The alcohol in the rum's cooked out and leaves the taste behind, but it mixes well with the chocolate powder and dark roasted coffee and the delicate cream when it's done right. Mmmmm." Ash laughed softly and rolled to her stomach. "I can almost taste it."

Allen smiled. "I might pass on it all the same."

"I'm still a-go for that you-know-what operation."

"Please don't."

Ash snickered and tapped her head. "All in the head already. I got it all up here."

He groaned. "You're not going to drop it, are you?"

"Nope!"

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The island was being plagued by a heavy, thick blanket of fog and mist. It's lingered for nearly the entire day. They had to move carefully; one wrong step could have either of them slipping off a precipice and into open air. They were safe for the moment, but it could change in a split second. For now, Allen kept close on Ash's heels, stopping when she stopped, stepping where she stepped, following her silent cues and hand signals. He normally did as such under normal circumstances regardless, but they needed to be especially alert now.

The Oni were out in force and silence was key. They had come across a Carnotaurus' corpse earlier. It had been butchered to death by all manner of weaponry and surrounded by all manner of Oni bodies. It had died fighting, or as Ash said in passing, "He went out with his boots on."

Allen had no idea what that really meant, since dinosaurs didn't wear boots, and Ash wouldn't explain it.

"Meat's no good, either. Too far gone," she declared after examining the body with a wrinkled nose. "Meat's been putrefying. Must've been here at least a day or so, and there's evidence of scavenging here and there, but…it's strange. You'd at least expect more predation on a prime piece of flesh like this and it's just sitting out here, barely touched…"

Just as she was straightening to stand, she froze in place. He paused as well, listening. Ash's ears swiveled atop her head, honing in on whatever noise he had yet to pick up. When he finally began to hear it, she stood, grabbing her bow.

"Solarii are coming with a squad of Oni on their heels. Time to go."

He followed after her, but she was soon pulling ahead, able to weave through the mist and its hidden objects with greater ease than him. He pushed forward, intent on catching up. Behind him, he could hear the Solarii's voices coming into hearing range. They were screaming. Shouting. Crying. That made him stop in his tracks as he listened as a sudden thought struck him: He couldn't leave them behind.

They were begging for help that they believed wasn't coming, but they begged all the same.

He didn't hesitate as he doubled back on what he hoped was the right way back to where he'd come from.

Allen wasn't surprised when Ash eventually started calling for him. She could come find him. He wasn't going to allow himself to stand idly by while the Solarii were being slaughtered.

Without Mathias, they were little more than a group of ill-managed thugs who had no direction. Without the Russians, the right-hand men of Mathias like Nikolai, boosting their violent ways even more, it might be possible that they could be persuaded for less brutish ways of living on the island. Maybe all they needed was the head of their snake cut down and then they'd see that he and Ash weren't really the enemy. They could all work together, perhaps, to get off the island. Condemning them so utterly and completely the way Ash has done—he found he didn't quite have it in him. Not like her.

The mist wasn't clearing up, but he could recognize the swirling stink of old meat and fresh blood. He stumbled upon the first body, quite literally and came to a crashing halt in front of another. Allen quickly picked himself up. He recognized the bodies of the Oni, the old Carnie, and additional new bodies of the Solarii.

He held still, eyes sweeping over the forested area. He caught glimpses of movement, pale ghosts flitting through the mist. They were there one moment, and then gone the very next. It was unnerving, and he was expecting an arrow to hit him in his back, or worse, a sword. Nothing came so far, but it was a far cry from comfort.

Movement caught his eye again and he jerked towards it, seeing it was one of the Solarii brothers lying against a tree. The man had been struck in the gut with four arrows. He coughed, eyes peeping open as Allen approached.

"Kill me…before the Oni get to me first," he wheezed, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm not killing you. I'm going to get you out of here." Allen remarked sharply, moving to grab the man's arm. He didn't resist as Allen wrapped his arm around the broad man's shoulders.

"Why? You and that bitch never seemed to mind before."

"I've never killed any of you. And don't call her that, her name is Ash. And Ash, she…she…" He couldn't finish his sentence. The man wheezed out a wet laugh, red staining his lips.

"That Fire Walker bitch is going to be the death of you too, one day. Just you wait—"

An arrow slammed into the Solarii brother's skull, cutting his words short. Allen startled, the weight of the Solarii thrown asunder. He collapsed away from Allen's hold on him. He leapt back with his heart in his throat, whirling on his heel just as something smashed into his head with an audible crack.

Everything went dark.

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He woke with the rotted stench of decay and blood coating the back of his throat. Moments after his awakening, he gagged and nearly choked when something wet trickled down the back of his throat and he tasted copper. His nose throbbed painfully. Allen looked around and saw that he was dangling from a ceiling support beam, it looked like, while his hands were bound tightly and hanging from a giant hook wedged in the wood. When he looked down, he really wished he hadn't. Mountains of corpses littered the floor below. He was in some kind of storage room, and it was huge. The walls were stained red and swarms of flies hovered over various stages of decomposing bodies. It was too overwhelming; his eyes were beginning to water and sting. His stomach twisted on itself and he had to use all his willpower to not throw up on himself.

Got to get out of here, he thought as he tried to think of a way. At the angle his hands were at, he wouldn't be able to invoke Crown Clown and simply cut off the ropes. Wait…but that hook…

It looked loose.

He started swinging his legs until he could brace them against the support beam. The moment he was, he started pulling, tugging, yanking hard until quite suddenly, the hook popped free and he was airborne, weightless.

That quickly came to an end as he slammed into the hard ground below. His vision swam but it cleared soon enough. He jerked at a hand grabbing his shoulder and he reacted on instinct, invoking his Innocence with a battle cry on his lips, ripping his bonds free.

A familiar blade met with his hand and he stopped short of following up a counterattack when he recognized the sight of mismatched eyes staring back at him.

"Did you just seriously yell 'Crown Clown' at me or am I finally, truly and legitimately insane now?"

"Ash!"

Allen almost reached to hug her after returning his hand to normal, but stopped midway. She held up a hand to stop him.

"Can we do this later? We need to get out of here. And why the hell didn't you follow me earlier?"

She jerked her head over her shoulder, signaling him to do just that: follow her. He covered his mouth, careful to avoid his nose for the time being as she led him to a small crack in the wall between piles of bodies. There were pieces of gore and viscera here as well. His stomach roiled in severe protest at the sight. He tried to breathe through his mouth, but it didn't help much.

"Where are we?"

"The monastery. Worse place to be, because it is the fucking hot-spot nest of all Oni on this island." She crouched and he followed her lead. He noticed she was keeping especial care to have her tail remain aloft, not letting it touch the ground if she could help it. "You still haven't answered my question. Why did you go back?"

"I…I couldn't leave them to get slaughtered. They were begging for help. Ash, without Mathias or anyone else instigating them to kill anyone and everything, the Solarii might be approachable now. Have you ever tried that before?"

"Allen."

"I'm serious, Ash, just think of the possibilities; you wouldn't have to kill or scare them off any longer. They could become our allies, and we might be able to work together, to get you all off this island!"

As they cleared the tunnel and found themselves outside, Allen stood straighter as he regarded the smaller woman before him.

"Haven't you ever tried that before? Truly tried?"

"Yes! All right? I have!" She snapped and glowered at him. He clacked his jaw shut in surprise. She exhaled loudly and at length, glaring at the ground. "I have tried that. I managed to get a truce. It happened once. And it actually worked. For all the fucking bloodshed, pain, and misery we've caused each other, I managed a truce, but it was a one-time thing. You wanna know what happened? Himiko came back. When she did, the entire island did its reset thing and everything I worked for had vanished in an instant. The men I finally managed to work out an armistice with forgot everything. After that happened, it was back our regularly scheduled show, kiddies! Blood and fire and bullets went flying everywhere. And Mathias…he was back to his old crazy self, taking charge, and screaming for my death, even if I couldn't exactly oblige."

She kept him pinned under that heavy, weary gaze.

"And you were a fool to go back. A goddamned self-righteous, goody-two-shoes, pain-in-the-ass, stubborn idiot of a fool to go back. The Oni can't be reasoned with, whereas, only sometimes, the Solarii can be. You were lucky, so goddamned lucky, they took you prisoner alive, because I…I wasn't even sure if I'd find you breathing when I came here. I smelled your blood and I…"

She dropped her gaze and closed her eyes. Ash took a breath, steadying herself. "You know what? We can do this sentimental shit later. We need to go and we need to go now, before the Oni realize you're gone."

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"I'm sorry about earlier."

Allen winced at the clothe wiping over his face, however gentle a motion it was. Ash wouldn't meet his eyes as she dipped it back into the basin of water, wringing it of blood.

"I could stay mad," she said, although her tone was anything but. "A part of me wants to. But I'm not going to. It isn't fair to you. I've given up being mad about how you react to situations like that. It's like you're programmed to just…jump in and try to save everyone."

"With the exception of the Solarii, you seem to have the same tendencies."

"I don't suffer from a chronic case of it. I deal out that kind of crazy in small doses. You chug the entire medicine cabinet and ask for more."

Now he could hear the annoyance masked by her unusually calm demeanor. She was frowning as she cleaned off the last of the blood from his face and nose. She was being as careful as she could, but that didn't negate the fact that his entire face hurt. A constant, agonizing wave of pain throbbed right at the center of his face along his nose, and it bled out all over

"Your nose is broken."

"Is that why it still hurts so much?"

"Probably. I'm gonna have to reset it."

She raised her hands up, fingers curled and thumbs out. He leaned away, holding up a hand.

"Wait, wait, wait, are you sure you have to?"

"If you wish to breathe properly through your nose and not out your mouth for the rest of your life, then yes."

Allen groaned, but obliged and leaned forward again. Ash's hands hovered briefly in front of his face.

"I'll try to be quick. You just…try not to struggle away."

She snatched his face in her grip, striking fast as a viper, and held on tight. She thrusted her thumbs on either side of his nose and pushed. He felt and heard something crack at the same time as a lance of pain engulfed his head, originating from his nose. Her hands were gone before he could jerk away. He took a few gulps of air in respite.

"Sorry," Ash winced in sympathy. "I know that shit hurts."

He waited, letting the pain subside until he could bear it more readily.

"At least I can breathe now," he cracked a half smile, only to drop it when something leaked from his nose. "But I seem to still be bleeding."

"Fluid buildup," Ash agreed, offering the cloth to him. "Here."

He gladly took it, pressing it as delicately as he could to his nose. "Thank you. For coming back for me."

She didn't hesitate when she said with a faint smile, "Always."

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