"It's wrong." Weiss whispered, pulling her exposed legs closer to her chest, and closer to the warmth of the blanket that encircled her. Her words were lost amidst the wind howling against the crags of the rocks above them, and amidst the seething crash and slam of the waves below them. They snuffed out her tiny sound, and took away her breath. "...This is... Wrong. And I know that you know it, too."

Ironwood offered no reply; no motion, no movement of the face. Nothing.

They both stared out into the black, icy, oceanic expanse. The steady, repetitious waves against the face of the cliff bringing breeze and froth, and raining quickly-freezing mist down upon them that shown iridescent in the shattered moon's light.

"I know." Ironwood finally replied, his voice hushed, weak, faltering against the white noise that threatened to so mercilessly suffocate them both.

He leaned to his side, resting his head on Weiss' pale, delicate shoulder; and Weiss lazily cocked her head, pressing her cheek to rest against his soft, graying hair.

"I just-" She paused, shifting her weight against the rocks and debris beneath her. The tiny pebbles and sand pressed hard into the soft flesh of her rear, lingering in spite of her movements and leaving painful indents. "...It's been so long. I don't remember how this happened; when it happened. You- You were like a-" She paused, clacking her tongue in her mouth; her words suddenly feeling far too disgusting on her tongue, and her stomach turned from their taste.

"You know what you were to me, James. To me, and to Winter."

Ironwood's breath hitched in his throat. His head slumped forward, facing the ground. "I'm so sorry, Weiss."

She turned, shifting her weight again; wrapping her arms around him, Weiss deeply nuzzled her face against his hair- and he leaned further, a tiny, gentle collapse into the warmth of her chest.

He wrapped his arms around her body in desperate reciprocation; his embrace was so limp, so languid.

The moon's light once flashed and glinted so brightly off Ironwood's prosthetics, Weiss could remember, as she looked at him - his callous armor gouged, tarnished, and unkempt.

She looked at him with such pity, now;and it left her feeling so gutted.

"Please. I need you. I need you." His voice cracked, pleading. "Please."

"Don't, James."

With a jolt, he raised his head - and he kissed her. He kissed her with fire and passion; a wild, fitful burst of absolute desperation. He stared into her eyes as he licked and suckled and bit and ran his hands so swiftly along her body, with the goal of tenderly cupping her face.

His eyes were so glassy.

Weiss broke away and he paused his fervid assault; both of them gasping, winded- "...What are we?"

"We're nothing, Weiss." He breathed, running his warm, soft hand along her back; she moaned and shivered, arching backwards - offering her breasts to him.

"But at least here, we can pretend. And I think that... We both need some good dreams, for once."

He took her hand, and squeezed it gently in his; his cold, corroded, steel fingers couldn't feel her - he could not feel her warmth, and her softness - but here, in this place, with this peace - in this vacuum of deafening static with nothing and everything around them - he could imagine that he could.

Here, he found that he could imagine lots of things. That here, he could finally stop fighting, and let his broken mind do what it did best-

He could see her, in Weiss; when the moon shone so bright, like tonight.

And she was whole again.

And there was no blood on her skin, and no bones piercing through her flesh, as she cried out so desperately for him-

She was still alive, here.

They sat, together, for a moment- in each other's arms, in silence.

The waves crashing below them, and the wind howling above them.

Drills and refineries and storage containers dotting the pitch-black horizon with their blinks and their glows, rich with blood-soaked Dust.