A/N: So, I meant to say this last chapter, but I always forget what I want to say when I'm writing author's notes. Redoak, if you (or anyone else) want to sketch a character, I'd be happy to put your sketch up as the picture for this fic. Just throwing that out there.
Thank you for the reviews!
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"The window has been spent."
"What?" The vindicator guy echoed my own thoughts.
With a strained sigh, Maevlen shrugged his shoulders, looking somewhat like a defeated mountain. "I do not know if we simply misjudged the amount of energy in the focus or if the demons finally found it and destroyed it. However, it is gone." He paused before adding, "I will continue to see if perhaps there is some sign of what they did to become invisible present in the information already gathered."
Well, even as I tried to understand that the sole connection to my world was gone, the vindicator leader guy started swearing up and down and I have to say that just broke my reality further. Draenei know how to curse? Really?
You'd think it'd be like the bane of their existence. Like, they'd say a single damn and go up in smoke. Or something.
Anyway, his language was waaaaay too inappropriate to repeat, so we'll just say he was unhappy. And his minions were unhappy. And I just kinda sat there while they interrogated poor Maevlen and he politely explained that the window had started flickering and even as he went to see if he could stabilize it, it blinked out of existence. And my goggles were now a pile of dust, so there was no repairing it.
Unless they used me. No one said that, but it was my thought, not that I wanted to be the focal point of a window now that I knew it could disintegrate me. But if it would save my world…save Brath….
Anyway, it felt like forever before Mr. Vindicator grumbled that the two of us could leave—really, he'd pretty much forgotten about me until Maevlen asked if he should walk me back to the inn.
The walk back was pretty dreary, for me anyway. As I thought of my family and how now I really wasn't ever going to see them again—ever—Maevlen tapped my shoulder and motioned with his head toward a more secluded part of the ship. "Perhaps a drink would make you feel better?"
Alcohol? Me?
Why the frick not?
What was the worst that could happen? The cops from my 'dead race' hopping dimensions to arrest me? Try to enforce our laws on Maevlen? 'Our' laws didn't even exist anymore because everyone was dead. Everyone but me.
Well, I was in tears, but I managed a nod and Maevlen led me over to an out of the way tavern. That dwarf was at the bar, a mug in each hand and I wanted, for no reason in particular, to kick his stool out from under him. I didn't.
Maevlen led me over to an out of the way table near the back and I slumped into a chair as he went and got us drinks. He was gone forever, but when he got back he set a mug in front of me and scooted his chair over so that he was sitting beside me. "Amy—"
"How could I be such a colossal failure?" I burst into sobs, crossing my arms over the table and leaning my head against them.
He patted my shoulder gently. "Amy—"
"I mean," I lifted my head. "I made it here, didn't I? I traveled freakin' dimensions! Successfully! So how did I mess up? Where did I go wrong? Should I have brought someone else with me?" Would that have made a difference? "I didn't want anyone else to get hurt if it backfired…." Like that mattered now. I cried harder.
"Amy." Maevlen was leaning down next to me, trying to be quiet about something. "You…you're really crying." I glared at him, wondering how he could be surprised by that, and Maevlen's brow pinched together. "He didn't tell you?"
I don't think I even understood my blubbery response, though it was basically asking what he was talking about.
He frowned and whispered as low as he possibly could. "The window is gone because I sent your message."
I stared at him, a hiccupped sniffle preceding the only word I could manage. "What?"
He gave me this look like I was hopeless and half smiled as he patted my shoulder again. "I sent your message through. That's what collapsed the window." When he saw my tears were too confused to fall, he added, "Now, I don't know that it made it all the way to your world, or if anyone will find it, but—"
"You found people?"
With a frown, he shook his head. However, before he could speak, I felt my earlier despair being replaced with horrified disbelief. "You sent…the one message we could send…to a dead part of the world?"
"Amy, it was the only chance we had." Maevlen paused and glanced around, before pushing my mug toward me. "Drink and try to keep looking depressed."
I clasped the mug without thinking, though I didn't bother to comply further. I was angry. That was my world's one chance. Brath's one chance. And it was gone. "I'm not thirsty."
He glanced toward the door, as though expecting someone to be coming any second. "Listen, they had figured out what you were up to, you see? They were going to ban you from going near the window…ban all of us. Even I was about to get replaced with someone else."
I was trying not to seethe as I listened.
"After today, we wouldn't have ever seen so much as an image of your world again. It was now or not at all." His brow crinkled together again. "I know it is not ideal, but it was the best chance we had."
My anger began to melt away. This was bad. The window had still been in France, or at least near it. The Legion had already passed through there. That meant the message had probably landed in some pile of debris or on a corpse or something. Even as I shuddered at the thought, another one occurred to me and I reached my hand into my satchel on my hip. "How did you even get—"
My bag was empty. I know that I'd kept the scrapbot, note, and spell together and on me, not wanting to lose them.
"Brath brought it to me."
Even as he spoke, I felt my world grind to a halt. That griffon and that kiss. Had the stupid bird warned him the vindicators were looking for us somehow?
And then…
I shot to my feet, startling Maevlen and sloshing my drink onto my fingers. Even as I dried them off and muttered an apology to Maevlen—I did ask if I needed to pay for the beer that I hadn't had, and he said not to worry about it—I stormed off toward the inn.
I think I heard Fizz call out a hello to me in the distance when I was entering the inn, though I didn't really register it. Instead, I made a beeline to our room where I saw Brath, sprawled out on his bed, face down as usual. My hands curled into fists and I flew toward him, though in the last moment I relaxed my fingers and just shoved him.
After all, if I punched him, I'd probably hurt myself way more than him. "You!"
It was all I could say. I'd managed to roll Brath slightly and he blinked up at me, genuine surprise on his face. However, even as I fumed, he seemed to realize what I was referring to and he smirked. "You're welcome."
Well.
That was not the thing to say.
It was like something inside me snapped. I screamed and tackled him against the wall, pounding my fists against his chest since I have to admit I don't have a clue about fighting. When I did think to swing for his face, he caught both my hands and rolled over so that he was pinning me to the bed.
His dark hair was like a curtain blocking out the rest of the world as it spilled over his shoulders and surrounded us. There was a spark in his eyes, that murderous sort of look that I condemned myself with by dismissing it as this world's problem when we'd first met. However, even as his pupils looked like little more than black lines down the centers of his bronze eyes, he seemed to remember something and his face twisted in what almost looked like pain.
He sat back up, though still on top of me and still holding me by my wrists. For a moment, I wasn't sure what was going through his head—am I ever?—but he slumped his shoulders and released my hands. "I would expect some sort of gratitude."
"The window's gone because of you," I hissed.
He eyed me. "Would you have rather given up on your world?"
Well, he had me there. I floundered for a moment before remembering why I was really angry. That kiss…he used it as a way to throw me off. That meant…it hadn't meant anything? Not that I wanted it to. But still. First kisses are supposed to be romantic and sure maybe you don't run off and marry the first guy you ever suck face with, but it should be…something.
I fish mouthed for a moment before sniffling, again feeling like I might cry. "You could have just asked for the message."
"My dear, dear Amy," Brath clasped my hands and gave me a warm smile that sort of creeped me out—namely because it was so out of character. He brought my fingers up and lightly pressed his lips to them and a teeny tiny part of me melted inside. His eyes stayed on my face and he seemed amused by my burning cheeks and speechlessness. "You can't lie to save your life, which is in a way endearing, I suppose." He reached out and let his fingers trail down the side of my face. "However, as I need you to save mine, keeping you in the dark is somewhat necessary."
My mind sort of blanked as I realized what he was saying.
"It's a pity Maevlen told you…we could have used those tears to help authenticate your innocence."
I just… Wow. What do you even say to that? He wanted me to think my world, my everything, was gone forever and ever? So that I'd be more convincing to people who might think that I had something to do with the window's collapse? He… who does that? Who in their right mind—
Oh, wait. Right. Crazy and evil.
How, when I remind myself all the time, did I forget that?
"You didn't have to steal my first…" I muttered before I could stop myself. It's amazing how such a simple, incomplete comment can make things so much…worse.
He leaned down toward me, letting his breath cause goose bumps on my neck. "Would you like me to make it up to you?"
Well, I have no clue how I would even respond to that. Luckily, I didn't have to. Even as my mind turned into a blank bigger than that non-world I fell through, Brath suddenly jerked his attention away from me and gripped a staff right before it could crash down on his skull.
Fizz had hurried after me and was there to save the day.
I have to say, it's easy to forget how fast Brath is when he lounges around all day. But when he wants to be, it's almost like you can't even see him, he's so fast. Before I could even remember that breathing was a necessity, he was off the bed and kicking Fizz into a wall. Or that had been his intent.
Fizz, on the other hand, did this spell—I think it's called blink—to dodge the attack and appeared behind Brath. And then he flung a freakin' fireball at him. Like a huge one. Brath dodged it and caught Fizz by his collar as the fireball exploded into the wall, raining little pieces of flaming stone around the room, and then tried to slam the goblin into the floor.
But Fizz twisted around so that he was free and shoved himself away from Brath so that Mr. Evil Dragon ended up just slamming his fist into the ground and it not only shattered at least a few bones in his hand, it also sent cracks through the floor.
Fizz seemed a bit cocky after escaping that run in with the floor. "Careful, dragon. Ya go too far, they'll figure out ya more than just some measly drake mount."
I heard shouts from down the hall—people were finally taking note of our craziness—and Brath grinned. He abruptly straightened up and started brushing the crinkles out of his robe. "Take care yourself, hero of the Horde."
