Look at that....

At last.

No different than how we left it, is it?

Claws, I can't wait.

I just want some real food.

And a bath.

Or a fire and a blanket....

Cacopheny stood at the edge of the trees and peered up at the house Sentio's parents and the Watcher clan had built. He felt like it had been years since he'd seen it, but it looked like he might've left yesterday. Nothing had changed about it; even the light dusting of snow that whitened everywhere else had melted off its roof. Probably Chario's magic, whether intentional or not.

Think they'll be mad?

Oh, probably. We've been gone a while, after all.

Never know. They might've forgiven us.

I wouldn't, if it it were me.

You never forgive anyone, Almadir.

Are you going in, or not, mutt?

Going in. That was probably a good idea, especially since if he stood out in the cold much longer he might just freeze. Though he wasn't at all certain how long he had been gone, it had to at least be a couple months, because the trees were bare and the snows had started. Winter had come to Sanctuary, and it had only been barely autumn when he left. He didn't think he'd been gone the whole year round and back again, but he really couldn't be sure.

Probably would've starved or frozen to death, if you were gone that long, Tiger snorted at him.

"Probably right," Cacopheny agreed quietly. He was better now at looking after himself alone than he had been when the spectres had chased him away-- except they hadn't really chased him, he'd just run anyway-- but he still wasn't confident that he could look after himself for that long. Not in the dead of winter, not without a roof over his head.

So it was only a couple months, then. Short enough a time for his disappearance to still be fresh in everyone's memories, long enough that they might have gotten used to his absence. It had probably been easier without him, especially for Akija and Sentio who had to deal with him most. Really, it probably would have been kinder to stay away, not bother returning and imposing his insanity on them again, but....

But this is home, Jova murmured.

And we've at least got a right to a home, Genner sniffed. Even if it is an imposition on the others living there.

"It's possible they won't want us back," Cacopheny pointed out, hugging himself against the cold.

Don't think that, Glory whimpered.

They'll let us back in, don't worry, Flash assured her warmly.

Though Cacopheny expected he'd still get annoyed with his shadows, still battle with them over control of his body and their many conflicting desires, and still wish they wouldn't startle him or mock him anymore, he didn't think he'd ever wish them gone again. They had been slow to return after his flight and the final disappearance of the twin shadows, as if as wary as he'd been that they might come back, and by then he'd been nearly out of his mind-- again-- with the loneliness of their absence. Wandering around the demonic mountains with nothing but his own thoughts and the constant fear of discovery for company had been torture. Even discoveries, by corporeal or non-corporeal entities, he could face if he was not alone.

Are you going in, or not?

"I'm going," he sighed, and left the shadow of the trees.

The front door was unlocked-- though he could have opened it, anyway-- and even though he could have simply walked through it and come out of the shadows on the other side, it felt good to take the handle in his hand and actually open the door. It felt even better to close it behind him.

Because we're home, Tek sighed happily.

The house was quiet, but not so quiet as to be empty. Cacopheny could hear shadows that were not his own somewhere inside. Not Sentio's-- he was certainly out, at a lesson or following his professor around during her own duties-- because he would recognize that one, even if he had yet to open himself up again to the bellscreamroarthunder that was their bond. He was too nervous of his reception for that. But there were other shadows inside-- downstairs shadows, in fact.

For a long moment, he pointedly ignored them, trying to soak in the warmth that had once again set him to shivering. Leaving in summer with only the light-weight clothes on his back had been stupid, but he hadn't been thinking straight.

You never think straight, Genner told him.

"Less straight than usual," he muttered, though still through chattering teeth. He rubbed at his arms, hoping that would help, and came into the kitchen.

Chario and Akija's coats and cloaks were the ones still hanging by the door, so it had to be them who were home-- though he could hear two shadows, so maybe someone else was here, as well. Or perhaps Akija was working some small magic, so he could hear hers, as well. He listened absently, relishing the warmth after so long in the cold, but what he heard stopped him short and made him forget about his shivering.

This place doesn't feel like a home. It's just a sickhouse....

Chario. Who was... a big, orangey-red, furry lump in the living room. In front of his own bedroom door. Morose and discouraged and worried.

Let them down. Let him down. Fight-- can't fight. Should have. For them, for him, for Tiger, Glory, I'm sorry, I'm-- let them down.

Akija. Who was in his bedroom, rambling, making no sense-- hurting, guilty, tired.

"What happened?" he asked loudly, more loudly than he'd intended, staring at Chario's hind end and folded wings in shock.

His own shock was nothing to Chario's. The Fire dragon dropped the colorful cube he'd picked up from Star City-- apparently he'd been fiddling with it-- and it bounced across the room, to where, Cacopheny realized, the usual furniture had been pushed against the far wall. Chario's head had whipped around and he was staring at him as if certain he were a ghost. If Cacopheny hadn't been so worried and confused, he would have backed up automatically from a look like that, certain he'd done something wrong.

But whatever's wrong with Akija is more important than that.

He wholeheartedly agreed with Tiger's startled, growling comment.

Chario managed to get to his feet and turn around, despite the tight space-- had he grown again in the time since Cacopheny'd left?-- and the way his fur trembled, proving he was shaking, too.

"Oh, goddess, please tell me you're real," the dragon wheezed.

Suddenly remembering he had to be speaking another language now, Cacopheny switched to demand, "Vy voodn't I be? Vat happened? Vat is sse matter viss Akijza?"

He almost regretted sounding so harsh when all Chario did was let out a little sob and start to cry. Almost, because beside the shame at hurting the dragon's feelings was a growing panic that there was something seriously wrong-- why else would he react that way? Unless it was something serious, something horrible, something--

Don't think it, Tiger snapped. The shadow, currently residing in his own cast by the fire across the room in the fireplace, was so tense that the shape he made against the wall was visibly shaking, far more than he himself was.

When Chario moved out of the way, freeing up the open door to his old room, Cacopheny didn't even wait for an invitation. Chario whined softly, watching him hurry past him and inside, but he ignored him. Why was Akija even in his room? Was there something wrong that made it impossible for her to climb the stairs, to her own room? Why had she kept his room so dark? It was the way he liked it, certainly, but Akija liked light as much as anyone else who wasn't him. Was there something wrong with her eyes?

At first he saw nothing, but the continued, incoherent rambling--

She said my name, Araski exclaimed in surprise.

--drew him immediately to the corner where his blankets were still lumped, where he'd left them. Only not as he'd left them, because Akija was inside, wrapped up and buried so deeply in them that he couldn't even see her. They trembled faintly, as if she were cold despite the burden of bedding.

"Akizja?" he asked, his voice cracking, as he nearly fell over himself to get down onto the floor next to her, picking at the blankets in an attempt to get at her, to see her. "Akizja?"

The little daemon he revealed was bundled in the warmest pajamas she owned, and even then she curled into an even tighter ball against the blankets he hadn't pulled back, shivering even more. But he could feel the heat coming off of her, and it didn't make sense. Her fur was thinner than he remembered-- she was thinner than he remembered. So thin, like he was after two months of near starvation, but why would she look like that?

Why isn't she answering? Tiger demanded-- not just of Cacopheny, of Chario, too, still at the doorway-- as Akija said nothing, just whimpered. Not even her shadow seemed to recognize them, though Cacopheny, despite being afraid to touch her, put a hand tentatively on her hair.

"She-- she's been sick," Chario answered. "Since you left. Fever for-- past month."

Sick. Akija was sick. She'd never been sick before, and she suddenly got sick when he wasn't there. Cacopheny stroked her hair slowly, carefully, and asked the next question himself, voice unsteady: "Vill zhe ket better?"

There was a pause before Chario answered, a swallow. "She... wakes up better, now and then, for a while. Maybe... when she...."

He didn't finish, but Akija's shadow briefly made sense again: Come back, sorry, come back.

For a moment, Cacopheny couldn't breathe, and couldn't see. His fault? Was it his fault? Had they hurt her, ruined her, even though he'd gone?

How dare you! Tiger snarled at him.

How could you?!

It's not his fault, it's--

It's their fault!

If they were here, I'd--

You'd be silenced, moron, if they were here.

I'll murder you, you stupid mutt--

And murder yourself? Real smart, Tiger.

Cacopheny ignored them, sucking on his lip-- he tasted blood; he must have bitten it-- and stroking her hair. She was so hot, so weak, but she still had magic in her-- his magic, he guessed. It felt like a shadow in her shadow. I came back, he told it, desperate to somehow make things right. You don't have to be sorry. I came back.... She didn't answer. 

"C-can I... vill it hurt her if I...." He made a helpless gesture at her, wanting to touch her, move her, hold her, anything to make up for leaving and causing this, somehow.

"She misses you," Chario whispered thickly. "All of you."

And since his shadow was clarifying, they all knew exactly what he was talking about: not all of him, but all of them. Even Flash had nothing to say about that. Cacopheny just hoped that meant that if he picked her up, it'd be all right. It was dark enough in the room that he could gather the darkness around her to help, and getting her out of the blankets and into his arms was smoother than even he'd anticipated. Can you even hear me? he asked her shadow unhappily, trying to keep her shivering at bay-- she felt too hot to act so cold. I'm here, I'm back... talk to me, Akija.

She turned into his chest, a feeble motion but acknowledgement nonetheless, curling towards him rather than away. He'd take what he could get, and hugged her closer, wishing he weren't so thin, so he'd be more comfortable. Wishing she weren't so thin... she felt like nothing. Curling against him, so he could press his cheek to her hair and rub his hand-- no longer as frigid as it had been, not with the warmth of the house and Akija, herself, on it-- up and down her arm, as if he could rub awareness back into her. So thin, so weak, it was like it wasn't Akija at all, except of course it was. No one else could be her.

Didn't-- didn't follow, her shadow answered weakly, tinged with a shame so like his own for leaving, to begin with, that he could have laughed, if he hadn't been hurting just to hear it. Could've, should've, didn't try... so sorry....

Why the hell is she apologizing? Almadir demanded irritably, uncomfortable with all the emotion that wasn't rage or impatience, but unable to draw back from the scene, anyway.

Why does he always apologize? Araski shot back, as if that was at all comparable. Almadir didn't answer, though, so maybe she thought it was.

Since this seemed to be getting through to her more directly-- shadows were more direct than voices, after all; more honest-- he told her shadow, a little less coherently, Don't apologize. Don't say that. Just-- just-- don't. Not your fault, not at all. If I'd been braver-- I wish I'd never left.

Stupid, her shadow hissed-- a hiss of air came out of her mouth, too.

Temper, Tiger murmured appreciatively. At least she's still got it.

Even if she's talking about herself? Genner pointed out.

Hey, spirit is spirit, Flash pointed out, back, obviously agreeing with Tiger.

So long, so much, so... fought. Gave up. She whined in the back of her throat, and he hugged her tighter. Gave up, she repeated, as if it were an important point she wanted to make sure he understood.

What?

What's that supposed to mean--

Hey, shut up, would you?

Well, I just didn't know....

Does it even matter?

Not to him. He brought his hand up to her face, holding her head against his chest. Not your fault, he reiterated as fiercely as he had energy and emotion for. I--

Oh, stop arguing who's fault it was, Tiger ordered them both, before he could do just that. That's not helping anything. You're both sorry, you both messed up, and it was a big mess. Move on.

A little chagrined, because the shadow had a point-- he still thought Akija shared no blame, but there was no real point arguing about it when she was so ill-- Cacopheny agreed meekly, It's done with now. I'm back. I'm staying. I'm-- I-- Swallowing the usual urge to apologize again, he finished, I'm staying. So-- so you have to get better now.

Another shiver went through her, but her wing twitched in something that might have been an almost-movement-- an almost-swat, even-- and there was a bubble of growl in her throat. Tiger laughed delightedly at her annoyance at him. Thankfully, he didn't share that with her. Cacopheny would honestly have preferred she put her limited energy towards something other than being mad at him, even if it was technically Tiger the anger was for.

Her dry, slurred, wheeze of a voice startled him when she finally spoke, but it made him smile, too: "'Bou'... damn... t-time."

"I know," he assured her, but he sounded happier than he ought to for an attempt at being contrite. "I took too long, I did."

She didn't quite make a word this time, though she tried, but her fingers fumbled briefly against his filthy shirt then managed to get a grip and hold into it tiredly. Her shadow said it for her. S'okay... back now. S'be okay.

It'll be fine, he agreed, hoping he was telling the truth. I'll look after you.

We all will, Almadir added gruffly. Tiger growled at her, but she wasn't about to say anything more; it was surprising enough she'd commented, at all, but it made Cacopheny smile, anyway.

There was a breath of purr, and her shadow sighed, Kevaz. --Kevazka.

Dear. Sweetheart. Beloved. In the plural. Cacopheny shut his eyes and stroked her cheek with his thumb. Kevaz, he whispered back.

I knew we came back for a reason, Tiger commented gleefully.

But-- but before--

If you ruin this moment, I will tear you to pieces and throw you to the twins.

Shutting up now, Flash said immediately, letting Tiger purr, back, in peace.