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Dering was no stranger to exhaustion, and though it washed over him in waves, he kept his eyes open as he looked between the three closest to him. His eyelids were heavy, but he didn’t let them close.

It wasn’t that kind of tired.

Something like relief blossomed in his heart when Yvoire had something to help Reims, and more of it when Reims actually used it.

Dering hadn’t seen everything that happened but he knew Reims had been hurt. He would have guessed badly, judging by how harshly his body had responded to the healing.

He hadn’t even seen Ephesus’ hand moving in his peripheral, and he bristled. And then he was disappointed in himself for it. Shame curled deep in his stomach, more bitter than bile and more blistering than blood.

Ephesus’ touch had never been anything but kind.

But Dering couldn’t control himself right now. Or his body.

It didn’t know the difference right now.

His breathing was forced and unstable. Instinct battled intention, and Dering fought with his body for who got to control how much air came in and out. His body wanted large, frantic gulps. He wanted small, steady breaths.

He didn’t know where his body found the energy to tremble with such fierceness. He tried to hide it. Failed, probably. Curled up a little more, like the smaller he made himself, the less they’d have to see.

His skin burned, like nails raking across every inch of flesh, peeling back each layer one by one.

But, he was safe here. They were all safe here. He knew that.

His body just needed a minute to catch up.

He didn’t have to speak. No one expected it of him.

So, he focused on breathing, first. Relaxing, next.

They were on the moon. The Celestial Theatre again. The was filled with soft, careful words, concerned murmurs, and the smell of bile. Blood too? Lisse’s answer wasn’t exactly helpful, and looking at his brother’s face, Halle had to ask, “Are you okay?”

Eyes moving past, he saw that Lisse’s wasn’t the only one with that stricken look, pale and shellshocked. In a way, they all seemed worse off than they had in the basement. Something terrible had happened.

Well, he’d lost his starseed. Stirling had as well and it could be assumed that more had been…nearly lost. “How’d we get them back? Our starseeds.” He’d probably have to ask for a more detailed description of events later, when…when everyone was less horrified.

Reims stayed where he was until the last of the sharpest pain finished whatever it was doing to his body, until his lungs stopped feeling like they were full of knives. Then he drew in a slow breath and forced himself to focus again.

Yvoire’s fingers caught his sleeve.

“It’s okay,” he promised, shifting so he could reach up to cup the back of Yvoire’s head and hold him close. Not tight, just keeping him there with him. “You’re okay.”

He pressed his forehead briefly to Yvoire’s hair. If he let himself think about the laundromat again, about his friends being dead, their starseeds torn from their bodies, he was probably going to break. So he didn’t think about it. He let himself just focus on everyone there with them.

He glanced over to Dering. How he was curled up, shaking, still fighting his own breath… and something inside Reims tightened with protectiveness that—... had nowhere to go. He shifted closer, placing himself as a quiet barrier at Dering’s back without crowding him.

Then he shifted his attention to the others, now that the restless energy finally started to twist inside him.

Halle’s voice cut through the quiet of the Theatre, and Reims turned his head toward him. He didn’t rush to answer. It wasn’t exactly something to blurt out.

“Dering,” he said first, gently. He glanced back at his friend on the floor, still trembling. Then back to Halle. “The General took the starseeds and made Dering eat them. Dering tricked him. Made Cahir think he really did. Injured himself to make it believable, but he hid them in subspace instead. Once it was safe, he returned them.”

His eyes met Halle’s, steady and serious. “You’re here because of that. Everyone is.”

There was no pride in his tone. No dramatics. Just facts and quiet respect that felt heavier than any praise.

“We can talk about the details later. When everyone is ready, we should make sure everyone goes home in pairs or threes. We can message everyone once we’re safe. Check in with everyone in the morning, too.”

He looked around the Theatre, counting them again. Stirling still out cold in Lyon’s arms. Halle awake. Lisse hovering. Amarynthos upright enough to hold Ephesus. Everyone breathing.

He glanced back at Yvoire. “You can stay with me,” he murmured, like it was obvious. After everything Yvoire had been through… after everything his family had been through… Reims wasn’t going to leave him alone that night.

He looked back over to Dering. “You shouldn’t go anywhere by yourself, either,” he frowned.


Ephesus didn’t move at first when Amarynthos opened his arms.

For just a moment, he was caught between what he wanted to do. He wanted to fall into his boyfriend’s arms and hide there forever, but he was also terrified of what it meant to be held when he still felt like he was falling apart. His shoulder throbbed in warning. His head felt too hazy. His ribs ached every time he remembered to breathe.

But Amarynthos was there. Warm. Real. Alive.

Ephesus made a small sound like a breath escaping, and then carefully moved into Amarynthos’s arms. He was careful with his shoulder, and was deliberately gentle, his good arm wrapping around Amarynthos’s middle and face pressed to the side of his throat like he needed to feel the pulse there in order to believe it.

“I’m okay,” he whispered automatically, but then the lie cracked, so he tried again, softer. “I’m… here.”

He swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, trying to keep the tears from restarting just because he was safe enough to let them. He let his fingers curl into Amarynthos’s shirt as if that was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

“I think my shoulder’s out,” he admitted, as quietly as he could, like saying it too loud might make Amarynthos jump up. “And I hit my head. I’m dizzy, but…” He took a shaky breath. “I can breathe. And you’re—” He stopped, because finishing that thought was too much.

He glanced up again, looking beyond Amarynthos’s shoulder. He found Lyon, still holding Stirling. Halle awake, Lisse stuck to his brother. Found Dering and Reims and Yvoire. Good. Everyone was there.

He shifted enough to press a careful kiss to Amarynthos’s temple, lingering there for a second — gentle, reverent… almost desperate. “I’m not leaving you,” he whispered. “Before we leave just… let me have one minute where you’re breathing and I don’t have to be brave.”