Chapter 1: Sun
Chapter Text
The weather is beautiful, which is the weird part.
Sui hangs back a little, since she knows what's coming, so she has a great view of the whole thing. The waving yellow grass in this meadow, dried out by the long days of summer, and the way the sun blazes on Kiri's hair as he strides across the field. He won't let her help anymore, which is as much of a relief as it's annoying. Sui likes fighting, and she likes winning, but not...this.
She knows why this is important. But still.
Zezu is a thin streak of shadow, sitting almost casually on the slab of stone and absently tracing the fresh names carved there with one gloved fingertip. He looks up as Kiri approaches him, with the oddest expression on his face; and that's when Sui realizes that Zezu knows what's coming, too.
"Have I mentioned," he says, dryly, "how sorry I am for your loss?"
She can't see Kiri's face, but she sees the way his shoulders tighten and his knuckles go white on the blades in his hands.
"You killed her." Her friend's voice has an empty sound to it, these days, like a hollow stone.
Zezu smirks, and stands gracefully, unfolding his long limbs from their lazy sprawl and arranging them into a poised and waiting stance. "Troi killed her," he reminds Kiri, with an expressive shrug. As if any of them need reminding.
Standing in the shade of the trees, Sui is ready to step in if necessary, with her hoop locked together and slung over one shoulder. She glances at Kiri's face. His jaw is clenched tight, and the light in his eye is like a blazing sun. She remembers seeing that same weird fire in Kiri's eyes when he first told her to stop, to let him finish it. Remembers standing by, unsure what to do, while he threw up after. And being kinda worried all over again, the first time he didn't.
"You killed her," he repeats, dropping into a crouch. "All of you. Troi was just the weapon."
One of Zezu's eyebrows inches up.
"All right," he allows. "In that sense, I guess you could say we killed your pretty little Sister." He licks his lips; they look dry. There are lines on his face that weren't there when they first met, and faint shadows forming under his eyes. "And now we're all dead."
Kiri's fingers shift on the handles of his knives. "All but one," he points out.
"And does that make you happy, Kiri Luchile?" Zezu asks, and for the first time today he looks angry. A little regret, for the loss of the other Gazelles, or the death of their goals? Has Zezu still got that much blood left in his burning veins? "Does that satisfy your broken heart?"
"No," Kiri snaps, and lunges for Zezu with his teeth bared in a grimace.
The late summer sun beats down oppressive heat on them all. Sui waits and watches, sweat dripping down the small of her back, hoop at the ready in her hand. The dry grass around her bends softly in the breeze, and broken fragments of it fly into the air around the raging duel, like golden sparks from a fire, as the combatants lunge and parry, lock together and break apart, pounding a flattened circle in the long grass with their booted feet. Kiri's knives are flashing like scissors in the sunlight.
There comes a cry, and a splash of blood.
Sui holds her breath until she sees Zezu hit the ground.
Kiri crosses to where his opponent is sprawled and kicks him hard, rolling him over. Zezu looks up at him with eyes narrowed by pain. His hands are clutching at the wet wound in his ribcage, and when he speaks, blood bubbles from his nose.
"...What are you?" His voice is a hoarse whisper, and Sui can't tell if it's because of a collapsed lung or just a rare flash of fear in his final moments.
"I was the messiah," Kiri says, bleakly. He kneels, flips the knife in his hand into an overhand grip, and stabs down, hard and precise. "But not anymore."
There is a faint gurgle from Zezu, and then, nothing.
Kiri braces his hands on his knees and stands. He looks at the blood on his blades and sways slightly, then flings them away as if they could bite him. One of them clatters to a stop on the gravestone, scattering drops of blood across the ten carved names. Kiri presses his empty hand over his eyes. His shoulders have lost their tension, and now he just looks wilted. Exhausted.
Sui swallows, hard. This is the fifth time she's watched Kiri kill someone, and it never gets any easier. With any luck, she won't have to watch it again. It doesn't feel right. It feels like something she ought to stop, but Sui can't even say no to herself.
"Hey," she says, stepping into the trampled circle of grass. Her long hair ripples slightly in the wind. "That's the last of 'em."
Kiri looks up. There's a bloody fingerprint on his temple and another on his cheek, and the fire is gone from his eyes.
"They're safe," he says. He sounds like a sleepwalker, like he's reciting words he memorized so long ago that they've become meaningless noises. "The Gazelles...are never gonna kill a Sister again."
"Yeah," Sui agrees. She slings an arm around his shoulders and leans her dark head against his. For a moment, she just looks out across the field, ignoring the body at their feet and the way Kiri is trembling and just thinking about the last three years. The familiar surge of Flare through her muscles. The fighting and the training under Fallan, no more dancing, no defense, just the harsh lunge for the throat.
She's a fighter, not a killer. Kiri is neither, but he always became what he had to be, for Elraine's sake.
"So," she says, finally. "What now?"
She knows the answer - they go back to the Sisters, so they can finally figure out what makes Kiri tick and put an end to this whole mess. Maybe get back to real fighting, the kind where somebody wins and nobody dies. Maybe someday they'll even go home. She knows all of that, but Kiri is staring at his own empty hands again, so she isn't surprised when a tear runs down his cheek as he softly answers:
"I don't know."
Chapter 2: Moon
Chapter Text
Kiri knows, in a vague sort of way, that he ought to be scared. He always knew this could happen, and it sure as hell used to scare him. He used to lie awake sometimes at night, after the worst fights, reliving what had happened blow by blow and thinking about what ifs and almosts. He used to wonder if dying would hurt.
As it turns out, it doesn't, much. Not anymore. Kiri's body gently switched off the lights when the third blade went through him. Physically, he just feels...stunned. Numb. Sort of distant, like he's not really here anymore.
It wouldn't even bother him much, now, the fact that he's dying. No, what scares the shit out of him, what's tearing him up with despair as he lies there helpless, is the fact that in a few minutes she is going to die, too.
And, unlike him, she's going to die alone.
"Kiri, can you hear me?" Elraine has her arms around him and is trying to help him sit up a little, to help him breathe. "Andie went for help, she'll be b-back soon..." Her voice trails off, and he feels her arms tightening around him. They both know the nearest town is hours away.
"El," he whispers, tilting his face toward her, trying to get a good look at her. Her eyes are full of tears, and they glimmer green in the moonlight. The whole clearing is bathed in it, every branch and leaf picked out in bright silver.
"Oh, Kiri," she whispers. "I'm so sorry. You could have...you could have had a normal life. You could have been happy..."
"No," he says, interrupting her. A normal life? A life spent wasting his Flare carrying festival equipment and curing colds? A life without shy Sisters and adventure and Elraine? That's what he's supposed to want? "I...I helped people. We helped people, El. I never would have done anything, without you."
A watery smile appears on her face, at that. He smiles back, and squeezes her hand.
Her fingers in his are warm, and he can still feel the gentle tingle in his skin that means he's using his Flare. "Maybe...maybe it'll be okay," he says, trying to think. There's got to be some way to save her, to pour his power into her when he doesn't need it anymore. Right?
"Kiri..." A tear trickles down her cheek. "Please, don't. I'm grateful for the extra time, but it's over now. I'm okay with it. Really."
Fear for her swells up in Kiri's chest, twisting and hurting more than anything physical. "No! El, you have to try." He swallows, fighting back a welling-up of coppery blood and despair. "Look, I didn't do this to be a...a hero, okay? I'm not a hero, or a...a chosen one, or any of that."
"Then...why did you..."
"For you," he says. She looks amazing even in the moonlight, tear-streaked face and all. He grips her fingers, willing her to believe him, to be stronger than him. "I couldn't let you go, El. From the...minute I saw you. I could never let you go..."
"Oh, god," Elraine says, voice breaking, and chokes back a sob. "Oh, god, Kiri, I am so, so sorry that I couldn't be rescued--"
"No," he insists, struggling to sit up. That's not what he's trying to say, but something - pops a little - inside him as he tries to move, releasing a sudden wave of fresh pain, and he gasps and sags in her arms. Elraine is sobbing now, and Kiri stops trying and just lets her hold him close, even though he knows he's bleeding all over the clothes he worked so hard to sew for her. The stains are never gonna come out. He grimaces, lets his eyes close for a long moment and concentrates on continuing to breathe.
The branches rustle overhead in the soft night wind, with a gentle shushing sound. Somewhere nearby, an owl hoots once, twice, and falls silent.
Kiri swallows. He's so damn tired. He never knew he could feel this tired, but...none of the old excuses matter anymore, and she needs to know.
"I love you," he murmurs.
It's hard to tell if the sudden noise Elraine makes is a laugh or a sob. "And I love you," she says. Tears are dripping off her chin and her eyes shine bright even in the dark, as she touches his cheek. "Kiri...I've known for a while. I should have said something, but the time never seemed right..."
"Shit," he whispers. So much wasted time. "No, I should've..."
He can't finish the sentence. His lungs are doing a strange thing where they won't fill the way they're supposed to. It's like trying to shovel air into a bag, and talking is becoming horribly difficult. He can't even sit up a little to kiss her.
From the look on Ellie's face, she's noticed. Which is probably why she bends down to kiss him, instead.
Kiri shuts his eyes and tries to make the moment last as long as he can, kissing her softly back. Elraine tastes like mint candy, with a salty hint of tears, and her lips are soft and warm against his. He wishes they'd done this months ago. He wishes they could do this forever.
"Kiri," she whispers, finally drawing back a little. "Th-thank you. For everything. You gave me so much more time than I ever thought I'd have....let me see so many extra things..."
If it was up to him, she'd live forever; but he can't tell her all the stuff he wanted her to have and do. Not now. It'd just hurt the hell out of both of them. "Don't give up," he says, instead, as fiercely as he can. "You're gonna be okay. You are. I'm not gonna let go..."
Elraine smiles for him. It's the most beautiful smile. He wishes he could draw it.
"Don't worry," she tells him, gently. "I'm right here. I'm not gonna let go, either."
"Okay." He takes another shallow breath, closes his eyes. "Good." He hasn't noticed the way his grip on her hand is loosening. "You're gonna be...fine..."
Elraine nods for his sake and sits up as tall as she can, watching his face intently as his eyes lose their focus and drift shut. She cradles him in her arms, gripping his hand, and waits for the end to come.
True to his word, he's still holding her hand in his when he dies.
She knows exactly when he goes. She can feel Flare's power leaving her as he does, and she braces herself for the seizures, biting her lip to stifle the cries of pain.
Her hand is still holding his when it vanishes altogether.
Chapter Text
The room is a whirl of activity, color and sound. There are women running every which way, the pale habits of Sisters rustling and swishing as they walk, and despite having a very personal, vested interest in everything that's happening, Kiri feels terribly out of place.
Or he would, if he could think about anything or anybody but Elraine.
"Come on, Ellie," Sister Andie is saying, scooted up close on a chair next to them with a pan of cool water in her lap. She's got a towel dipped in it, and as he watches, she wrings it out with a splash and mops at Ellie's brow. "Hang in there, Kiri," she adds, as an afterthought, and Kiri gives her a wry nod of acknowledgment. Good to know somebody thinks he's being useful.
So far, as far as he can tell, everything's going according to plan...
Elraine suddenly clutches both his hands, squeezing her eyes shut, and he can feel it when her muscles clench and spasm. She makes a high, thin noise through her teeth. Kiri was doing all right until now, and so was she, all things considered; but at that sound, his blood runs cold.
"El?" he says, urgently, leaning over her. "Talk to me, El. Are you okay?" This is giving him a terrible sense of deja vu. Heart pounding, he fights the instinctive urge to glance at their joined hands and make sure her fingers are still corporeal. Not an issue, not an issue...
"It hurts," Elraine whispers, faintly. She sounds breathless, but reasonably calm, which is more than Kiri can manage right now.
"I know," he says. Sweat is breaking out on his brow. He's trying his best. His Flare is surging through her, skin to skin, taking away pain, strengthening her exhausted body. "Hang on, El..."
"I am," she says, giving him a tired little smile that twists into a grimace as the next wave hits her. "Nnn...!"
"Come on, Ellie," Andie whispers again. "Kiri, don't let go of her. You're almost there." She's busy with the towel and the bucket again. Somewhere, Kiri can hear Heine shouting at somebody, and he stifles a laugh. Sisters. As if he would do anything else.
Closing his eyes, he wills all the energy he can manage into her, ignoring the dizziness that results and the stars that dance across his blurring vision and just thinking about helping her, healing her, pushing her that last little distance...
"Kiri-i-i!"
He can feel her gripping his hands tightly enough to squeeze the bones together, but he grits his teeth and keeps concentrating as the sound of his name rises into a shriek on Elraine's lips, a last sharp determined scream. Andie gives a cry of delight, and there's a flurry of activity at the foot of the bed, and - Elraine's voice peters out into a sigh, and she collapses back into his arms, limp and exhausted.
A high, thin wailing pierces the room. Kiri looks up from his worrying over Elraine, and his heart turns over.
There's a little red fist waving in the air, above a tangle of blankets. Heine looks up from the baby in her arms with a twinkle in her eyes. "She's a yeller," the former Sister says, and starts to laugh. "Way to go, Kiri! A nice, healthy girl on your first shot!"
"Oh, Ellie!" Andie exclaims, grabbing Elraine's other hand. She's got her breath back, now, and is ignoring the pain and trying to sit up and reach for her daughter. Kiri puts an arm around her shoulders and helps her, as Heine scoots onto the bed and offers the wriggling bundle to them.
Leaning over her shoulder, Kiri looks at the baby and wrinkles his nose. She's a mess, streaked with red and white stuff and scrunched up like a dried apple...but then she opens her eyes. They're beautiful, the same spring green as El's and as bright as the morning star, and Kiri's heart is lost forever, all over again.
Those eyes, he thinks to himself as Elraine makes fond, tired noises at the baby and takes the wet towel from Andie to wipe her little face clean, will never see a world where Troi exists. His daughter will grow up unafraid of contagion, and proud to have a former Sister for a mother, and Sisters for family friends. The Order is already turning around into wandering healers and medics under the capable leadership of Sister Martha and her ilk, ministering to the smaller needs of a world without Troi.
Ellie's dream. It's all worth it, all over again.
His wife looks up, just then, and their gazes catch, and he sees the same realization on her face. The next thing he knows, her free arm is around him, and they're both laughing and weeping at the same time.
There are a few affectionate glances from the Sisters, but...except for Heine, who is happily shouting into the telephone, nobody says a word.
Notes:
Kudos and credit to Peter, without whom these wouldn't have been written, and who co-wrote "Moon". Double Arts wouldn't be the same without you, my Ellie.
Tekuani on Chapter 3 Wed 13 Jul 2022 12:44AM UTC
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