Did I hear a thunder? Did I hear you break?

[bde]

[ Sheriff Takashi Shirogane’s been missing longer than he was Sheriff.

That’s kind of funny, when he thinks about it.

He doesn’t think of it often. Early on, he thought about getting away. He thought a lot about his morals, his precious ideals that stopped him from killing when the men who’d taken him had put him in the pit. He’d thought about how best to curl himself in to protect his organs and his head when they beat him for it, too, and eventually he’d given up on getting away and he’d thought that if he provoked the right guy, the one with the worst temper, he’d be freed a different way.

He’d been wrong. The guy had beat him almost to death, gotten so mad he’d taken to him with a hatchet and left his right arm hanging by gristle, but they’d had an answer for that. One Shiro only figured out after – the last thing he remembers before passing out is being thrown in a cage with a wolf as big as a pony, and then next time he woke he was – whole. Healthy. And uncontrollable – the next time they’d put him in the pit it had only taken one good blow from the man they’d put him against and everything had gone red.

He remembers coming to some time afterwards, chained up. One of the men – the ringleader, he thinks – had held his face almost gently, said not so high and mighty now, are ya, Sheriff? and spit in his face. It had been months before he’d figured it out, before he’d kept enough of himself during the change to realize what was happening. Months more before he’d figured out he had enough control to change at will. And that was how he got out, in the end. Chains designed to hold both human limbs and wolf paws are going to have to make some compromises, and a wolf with a human brain can exploit those weaknesses.

His only regret is that he hadn’t been able to find a way to release the other prisoners. There were two others that he knew of; another man about his size, and a native woman. He’d seen them being taken to and from fights, but they’d been kept apart – to keep them from conspiring, he supposes, which showed foresight on the part of their captors that he genuinely regretted. In the end he’d had to promise himself he’d come back for them as soon as he could. He’d taken the one horse that didn’t shy away from him now – a big, barrel-chested white mare, a good girl – and fled, heading out to find people he could turn to. Keeping her fed was easy enough, with plants and water around in abundance, but it was trying to feed himself that got him into trouble. He’d figured hunting would be easier as a wolf, and he’d caught himself a good meal – but he’d abandoned it when a hunter had shot at him. Got him, too, but not badly enough to keep him from getting away.

He keeps wolf form for as long as he can. He’s stronger, like this. But it’s not long before he realizes it’s infected, and sooner or later he’s going to have to change to tend to it…if he can find something to treat it with. He never was much on natural medicine. So he makes himself a deal; as soon as he sees signs of humans he’ll change, and he’ll ask for help.

It’s hard to keep track of what’s real. Clarity comes and goes. He thinks he sees snow at one point, which is nice, given the fever eating him up. More than once he thinks he sees Keith, and that – that hurts. Because Keith had been right all along. He’d told Shiro the town was rotten, told him people couldn’t be trusted. Shiro had put it down to what a rough time Keith had been through, and just resolved to show him every possible kindness, to treat him the way he deserved and rebuild his faith. So much for that; in the end, he’d just abandoned him, the way Keith said everyone else had.

By the time he finally sees someone, he’s too sick to remember to change as quickly as he should. It’s a long while before he realizes that if the figure he sees by a fire looks up they’ll see a white horse and a white wolf walking side by side, and changing back takes so much out of him that the world kaleidoscopes around him and black spots invade his vision. He doesn’t have anything left; he only manages a step on two feet before he falls, and his last thought – the last thing he says – is who he thinks he sees by that fire. All of his regrets and all of his hope in one. ]

Keith.

Comments

[feralistic]

[ shiro disappears, and keith has never been so heartbroken to be proven right.

the world is something dark and cruel and ugly, no matter how much people try to cover up the fact with words like progress and civilization. at least nature is savage in a way that's honest and easy to understand; the wolf kills the rabbit because it has to hunt to live, the death of one permitting the life of another. but humans... they kill each other for what amounts to nothing, for things like money or power (or fun) that they can't ever hold onto, in the end.

shiro used to tell him that there was more to the world than ugliness, that there were plenty of good people who balanced out the scales for all of the bad. he used to speak like darkness was a thing you could fight -- that enough goodness and light would send it running, that bad people could be pruned from the rest of them like weeds in the garden.

keith had wanted to believe him. so badly, but then the world opened its ugly maw and swallowed shiro down the way it does any good thing, and keith hated himself for being as surprised as he was.

he's been alone out here for the better part of a year, tucked up in a little shack he'd stumbled across on his mad flight out of town. it was probably some old hunter's cabin -- keith had been on edge for weeks, but no one ever came to claim it back. and it's a decent enough spot for his purposes; there's enough scrubby grass and brush for the horses to graze, there's a stream close by where he can fish and gather water, and it's far enough off the beaten path for the animals to be plentiful enough to hunt. it isn't an easy life, and the ache of missing shiro makes him lonely, but keith tells himself it's better this way. he's suited for this, for being out on his own.

and maybe he's been given just enough time to fall into a routine when the wolf finds him.

it's a beautiful night -- the sky is calm and clear, and the moon is bright enough in the sky to light the desert in stark relief. keith is tending a fire next to his little shack, using it to boil down some bones into stock, but it's an easy task. enough for him to be half-dozing as he watches the flames, soothed by the sounds of red and kuro grazing and whickering softly nearby.

it's why he almost mistakes the sound of his name for something from a dream -- he startles awake at the sound of it, but doesn't actually look around until he hears the sound of a body hitting the ground. and then he's on his feet almost immediately, one hand on the hilt of his dagger, until -- ]

Shiro!

[ it can't be him, and yet it is. lying there on the desert sand like a ghost made corporeal again, and keith nearly stumbles over himself in his haste to get to the other man. the mare he's with snorts a warning at him, but he calms her with a gentle hand on the soft velvet of her nose before he kneels down to shiro. the other man is covered in scars, and it makes keith's heart ache to see them, but the only wound that really concerns him is a gunshot wound on his side -- it's hot to the touch with infection, and just the sight of it is enough to make keith's blood boil.

-- but there's no time for that, no time for protective anger. not now, not yet.

instead, he focuses his attention on gathering up shiro and taking him inside the little shack, immediately settling him into the one bed inside. the wound is his first priority -- he has to cut it open again to take out the fragments of bullet, but fortunately shiro is under too deeply to protest with more more than a few restless moans. then he sews it up properly, treating it with a poultice of healing herbs and honey for the infection before he dresses it with the cleanest rags he has. it's fortunate that he was already making stock -- he coaxes shiro to drink a few mouthfuls before he lets him rest again, wetting more rags with cold stream water and pressing them to his neck and forehead to bring down the fever.

it takes days for shiro to wake, and keith watches over him fretfully the entire time. cleaning and dressing the wound as it requires, even though he's pleased by the way it starts to heal under his attentions, and getting shiro to drink a few mouthfuls of stock or water at a time as he's able. he makes him teas, too, using more herbs known to promote healing and provide strength; whatever shiro's been through, it seems like his body can use as much of an extra boost as keith can give it.

but finally, on the fourth day, his own strength flags on him. and that's why he slips off into a nap at shiro's bedside, leaning over the bed with his cheek on the thin mattress, the fingers of his hand curled lightly around shiro's wrist. ]

[bde]

[ When Shiro wakes - properly, this time, aware and as close to alert as he can be - he aches. It's a good ache, though, a clean sort of thing to balance out the weakness that lays heavy over him, a sign of a good fight well won. He blinks muzzily at the unfamiliar ceiling, confused for a moment before he turns his face and sees Keith.

Ah. Maybe the fight isn't as won as he'd thought it was. He can't be too mad at the hallucination, though. Keith's face is always a welcome sight, even like this, when his mind has apparently seen fit to fill in the blanks a year or so has left and fill Keith out to match. He reaches one hand to brush back the fall of dark hair over that familiar face, to rest his palm against its cheek. ]

You grew up, [ he says, in wonder and sadness and appreciation. ] That's good.

[feralistic]

[ the touch to his cheek is enough to make him stir, and it says something for his exhaustion that he doesn't immediately snap into wakefulness. instead, there's a moment where he simply leans into that touch and sighs, blinking blurrily back into the land of the living.

but the sound of that voice, warm and soft and familiar, helps pull him a little bit further. ] Shiro...?

[ it's muzzy, almost as if he thinks he must still be dreaming. but when he opens his eyes and lifts his head enough to see shiro looking back at him, he snaps into full wakefulness like a switch has been flipped. ] Shiro.

[ his voice is thick with emotional, eyes bright with something that might be unshed tears. there's too much he wants to say, too much he wants to ask, and... nothing makes it out of him. nothing but: ] You're here.

[bde]

Am I? That's good news.

[ His voice is scratchy with disuse, his throat feeling tight, but... it's good. It's worth it, to see Keith like this, and he smiles a moment -

and then everything sort of settles - his hand on Keith's cheek, the fingers on his wrist, the real and solid way Keith looks in front of him, not hazy or dissolving away when he looks at it straight - and Shiro's breath catches. ]

I'm here.

[ He has no idea where here is, but... it's not there. That's the important thing, and for a moment it's enough to choke him. ]

[feralistic]

[ the rasp in shiro's voice makes keith's chest ache, and it's enough to get him to his feet. ]

Here, hang on a second --

[ the bucket of fresh water is never far from shiro's bedside, and keith dips his little tin cup into it before he moves back to the other man. ] ... can you sit up? This'll help.

[bde]

Mm.

[ Despite his confidence, it takes Shiro a moment to actually lever himself into a seated position. Still, he takes the cup without his hands shaking, and drains the cup probably a little quicker than he ought to, but it's cool and clean and tastes like heaven in his cottony mouth. ]

Keith. I can't believe it. I thought I'd never see you again.

[ It's stupid. A lifetime ago (a year? really only a year ago?) it would have been embarrassing, but he's been through enough now that when tears prickle his eyes he doesn't care. He lets them fall. And that's a wonder in itself, really. Keith must have taken good care of him, if there's enough in him to cry out. ]

[feralistic]

[ he watches like a fretful mother hen as shiro drains the cup of water, and fills it up again for him before he finally allows himself to sit down on the edge of the bed. and there's no shame in seeing shiro's tears -- his body tells the tale of the nightmare he must've been through, and it makes keith's chest ache for him.

but he reaches out to brush his thumb gently over the older man's cheek, sweeping away one of those tears before it can fall. ]

... I know. I -- [ and he swallows hard, past the jagged lump in his own throat. ] I missed you so much, Shiro. I never stopped --

Even after they said you were dead, I --

[bde]

[ The tears don't stop, but Shiro smiles at Keith and takes another swig of water, not paying them any mind. ]

You always were a good kid. Look at you now. A good man.

I don't think I had much longer left in me. You saved me, Keith. Thank you.

[ A beat, another sip of water, and a thought hits him hard enough that he almost drops the cup. ]

The horse - I was with a horse. Is she here? Did you find her?