There was a long, very long, period of silence once Sentio could think of no more questions and Cacopheny could think of nothing else to say. Sentio was reeling, he could tell, overwhelmed by everything he'd said. It hadn't been much easier to say than for the little dragon to hear-- he hadn't ever actually talked about his life before, not like this, not about Her, not in so much depth. At least maybe Sentio would understand now why he didn't like beds.

If he didn't regret ever knowing you before--

--he sure does now.

We told you.

We warned you.

But no, you couldn't listen.

Those voices were close, too close for Sentio to hear them. Cacopheny shut his eyes, shuddering. It was a measure of how stunned and disgusted the dragon was that he didn't say anything, ask if he was all right, or even seem to notice the movement. It didn't matter; Cacopheny didn't want to say anything else, not about anything. He wanted to burrow under his blankets and hope everything was all right again when he came out-- but it wouldn't, and he couldn't.

It was true. Talking about everything, about Her, brought back everything. How much he loved Her even as he hated Her, how much he missed everything he knew, how lost he felt without Her... it didn't seem that bad. He was afraid all the time, anyway, just of different things, and though no one hurt him here but himself, that seemed like a small thing, now. Not even Sentio's reaction to hearing what She did, feeling what he had felt about Her, remembering Her loving and hating and his days and nights, was enough to change his mind. Not right now. Maybe someday, because he knew that everyone who knew about Her thought he was better off free, but... not right now.

Not ever.

How could you even think that?

She loves you, you know that.

You love Her.

I know... I know. But--

No buts.

Annoyed and feeling drained, he was tempted to shut the shadows up for a while with a few good swipes of his claws-- but Sentio was there, and Chiya was coming later, and-- Sentio was here.

If that's going to stop you, you're not going to be doing much, ever.

It's not as if he's going to ever leave.

And even if he does, he'll still know what you do.

You're bonded, aren't you?

You're-- you're right. I didn't even think about it.

That hadn't quite sunk in yet, that Sentio was never going to leave. Or at least never going to be separate from him again, even if he ended up living at home while Cacopheny lived at the bonding complex, or wherever he ended up. That meant-- everything, everything he did, Sentio would know. That meant no more claws to silence the shadows, because Sentio would hardly approve. That meant, as he'd guessed before, wearing clothes all the time. That meant... that meant never seeing Her again. Never going back to Her, even if he found Her again. He couldn't put Sentio through that. He couldn't-- but the thought that he could never see Her again-- it was too much. 

Apparently the sudden surge of terror and despair at the thought of being completely and utterly cut off from even the hope of seeing Her again was enough to distract Sentio from his thoughts. The shadows roared wordlessly, dark around him, saying they'd told him so, they knew this would happen, and now it was all lost, it was all over, nothing would ever be the same again. Cacopheny didn't even see Sentio move until the kit was right in front of him, talking, worried, afraid.

"Cacopheny-- Cacopheny, are you all right. Cacopheny, talk to me, what's wrong? What happened? Cacopheny!"

He couldn't talk. He couldn't think. All he could do was stare blankly at Sentio's worried face and try not to cry, remembering Her and the times She'd been gentle with him, even loving. Even when She was angry, or wanting, or hating, She still kept him safe from Him, when She could. She still healed him when he hurt, either from Her or himself, and even though it still hurt, it never bled and it never looked like it was there before. He was Her pet. Her little love. Hers. Hers. And now he never would be again.

Because of Sentio.

The dragon, as if he sensed his sudden change of mood, suddenly backed up so quickly that he nearly tripped over his own tail. "Cacopheny, what-- did I do something? What did I do?" he asked, frightened, babbling. He didn't answer, but uncurled from the wall, glaring darkly.

It's all his fault, one of the shadows snarled.

Had to make his choice.

Had to be so innocent.

Had to ruin everything.

All his fault.

All your fault, dragon-welp.

"All your fault," Cacopheny echoed angrily, creeping forward. "I can't ever go back. Never, because of you. It's all your fault."

"But-- I didn't mean-- I'm sorry!" Sentio exclaimed, still backing away, running into a bed and scrambling hastily around it, short little tail tucked between his legs and ears flat back.

"Too late now," Cacopheny hissed, still advancing steadily. "Said so yourself, too late now, can't go back now. Can't go back. Never, because of you."

Fear was all but rolling off Sentio. Cacopheny could feel it, could even smell it, sharp and muddled with confusion. Cacopheny had never acted like this before, after all. Not Cacopheny. Cacopheny was a good, gentle, submissive little half-breed. He would never hurt anyone. That would have to be a shadow's fault. Or Her fault. Or Sentio's fault.

Not all the time.

He shook his head with a growl. Sentio had backed up as far as he could go, in the corner by the bathroom door, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes.

Go on.

Let's let him have it.

He deserves it, taking Her from you.

It's all his fault.

Then you'll be free.

We'll be free.

Go on.

Do it.

Cacopheny, I'm sorry-- I didn't mean to do anything to hurt you, I promise-- if you really want to go back, then go back-- just please don't hurt me-- I'm sorry, I really am, you can do whatever you want, I promise!

The fragmented, terrified thought wasn't a shadow. They all hissed at it, but Cacopheny paused, torn, half of him still full of fury and madness, and the rest trying to remember. He knew that voice. It said it wanted to help him, even though it would give up a bright future to do so. It had told him it would stand by him, even though it was afraid. Even though it was afraid.

I'm sorry, Cacopheny. I-- I didn't know you felt like that-- about-- about that person. I only wanted to help, I swear.

Don't listen to him.

He's just trying to save his own skin.

Get it over with.

We can be free again.

Again the bright voice broke through the shadows, trembling but making itself heard. Cacopheny, you were never free. Whoever that person was, she ruled you more than I ever could, or would ever want to. At least I'm not going to hurt you-- not like those things, not like her.

HOW DARE YOU!!!

The corporate mental screech sent Cacopheny into a huddled ball of limbs, trying to cover his ears, eyes, and head all at once, whining wordlessly. The dragon wasn't in much better condition, eyes glazed with shock and pain, half-stunned by the combined power of all the shadows all shouting at once. It wasn't something that happened often, not for years, not as far back as Cacopheny could remember. But then, no one had ever insulted Her before.

The shadows had stolen the last of his anger with their shout. He couldn't even muster the energy to be indignant by what Sentio had said. He remembered now; Sentio had only wanted to help. She had never come for him, and he had looked for Her, only to find nothing. He had nothing to go back to, even if he could. He couldn't even think that She might be dead-- surely, surely She couldn't die-- but after all this time, She must not have wanted him. That wasn't Sentio's fault. That couldn't possibly be Sentio's fault. He'd frightened the little dragon for nothing. He'd very nearly hurt him, very nearly killed him--

In the echoing silence, full only of Sentio's frightened panting and Cacopheny's ragged breaths, the shadows withdrew. They had no hold on him anymore, for now, and all he had the energy left for was despair. He crumbled there in the middle of the room, curling up into a tight ball of shame and sorrow, and cried. It took Sentio a few moments to recover from his shock, but then he crept hesitantly forward, tensed and jumpy, still afraid of his bond, but more afraid for his bond. He could feel it through their link. A link he had agreed to, not a link he'd had forced upon him. A link he'd come here hoping for, which he could have destroyed if he hadn't gotten control of himself. And now a dragon, a young dragon, an innocent dragon-- his dragon-- was afraid of him, unsure if the anger and the violence would return.

No, he thought brokenly at the nervous kit, It won't. I won't. Wrong, all wrong, so sorry... all wrong....

"It's all right," Sentio tried to say, crouched beside him and poised with one hand-like forepaw nearly touching him, but not quite.

No, it's not. Should never-- could never-- not worthy, not right, all wrong-- so sorry....

There wasn't anything Sentio could say. He settled down at his back, stretched out to be as comforting a presence as he could be, folded wings over him, and let him cry himself out.