aren't we all running? // avriel & blade

a v r i e l .

"We forgot to talk about Heaven
And leaving
And what it would mean
And how I would grieve"

She tears through old wounds with expert precision and Avriel prickles at the topic, happy that he has a task to occupy him.

He knew his father, big man with eyes that smiled even when he was trying to be stern. Avriel still remembers the way his belly laugh would echo from downstairs on nights that Jean and Mac would come over for cards. It'd be past his bedtime, but he'd sit on the top step, straining to hear the stories his father liked to tell when he'd had a couple of beers in him.

For a moment, he wants to tell Blade one, the corner of his mouth lifts with a smirk as he thinks about it, but he doesn't say anything, he just ducks his head and concentrates on cleaning the knives that he could salvage from the fight.

Av's hands are still shaking a little from the adrenaline and there's a quiet weariness in him that hasn't gone away since yesterday. Sitting with Blade is like drinking a cup of coffee, the tips of his fingers feel warm and when her words trail off, he can't help but look up at her, expectant. He wants to hear the rest of her thought. With every unfurl, he understands just a little bit more about her.

She's gazing at him, voice moving through his head and Avriel is so tired that it takes him a long moment to realize that she wants and answer. "You aren't bad," he says because he knows it's what she wants to hear, "You didn't leave me to die, but you coulda done."

You should have.

The last knife is gleaming silver when he finally drops the cloth. Avriel looks down at a warped reflection of himself, at a boy with dirt streaking his face and dark shadows under his eyes. "Proves already that you're nothing like him," he says "When it got tough, you stayed, that's everything."

The words feel false coming out of his mouth, words of affirmation from a liar hardly seem affirming at all.