LoA: Aftermath

“Loki,” Sigyn pleaded, almost pitifully. “Loki, please!”

Loki growled and continued to grind mercilessly into his wife, determined to finish what he’d started. She whimpered under him as her petite frame went rigid, another climax racing through her. In the midst of his growing frustration, he admired how beautiful she was like this; completely submissive to him and in the throws of pleasure. Her milky skin glowed in the dim light from the fire, shimmering with sweat, so irresistible to him that he could not stop his tongue from tasting her. There was no wine in all the Realms that tasted as sweetly as she did and he wondered for what had to be the millionth time, how he had survived in the darkness without her.

The image of a plasma whip flashed behind his eyes as Sigyn’s nails dug into his back, latticed with healed scars. She cried out, bringing him back to the present as the coppery flavor of blood coated his tongue. He’d bitten her, far harder than he’d ever intend to. Guilt flooded him and he grit his teeth, frustration rising within him. It dissolved quickly again as she pressed her lips to his and returned the favor by nipping his lip. He hardly minded and let her continue her nibbling as he panted hard against her mouth. He slammed into her with bruising force and he was getting tired. He knew she was exhausted too and he knew he was hurting her. Yet he could not stop. They could not have taken this from him too. Not this. He needed this like he needed air. He needed her. A desperate groan tore at his throat as he rolled onto his back, bringing Sigyn with him. Her arms shook as she planted her hands on his chest to brace herself. He held her hips in place and continued his onslaught and letting gravity do it’s work. It was better, bringing him that much closer, but still not enough, especially when Sigyn’s pained whimpers reached his ears. Still he he refused to yield and it was only a matter of time before he would have no choice.

“Please,” she pleaded. “Loki, stop.”

“No,” he groaned. “I need to…”

“No you don’t. Stop,” she said more firmly.

“I ca-“

“Stop!”

Quite suddenly, she forced her weight down on him, pinning his hips to the bed. The pained look that crossed her face dissolved into relief as they remained still. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears and he focused on watching Sigyn’s breasts rise and fall as she caught her breath to keep his frustration at bay. He slowly became aware of pain so intense he thought his nether region was on fire. He grit his teeth and bore it as Sigyn slid off of him.

“Damnit, Loki,” she hissed, and he looked to see what her complaint was about. His front was sticky with a light smearing of blood mingled with the remnants of Sigyn’s arousal, as were her thighs and he sighed heavily. There would be no trying again for some time and he did not want to try and guess which one of them was raw enough to be bleeding.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, refusing to meet her eyes.

“What were you trying to prove?”

He tensed at her words, amazed that she could still read him. He said nothing, though, leaving her to figure it out for herself. She was, after all, a clever girl. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she fingered the purple bite mark he’d left her with, curious which plight of his she would settle on.

“It was just once,” she said and that hot anger rose up in the pit of his stomach again. “And nothing actually happened.”

“You are my wife,” he growled. “He had no right to touch you.”

“Loki…”

“And you had no right to open your legs to him. You are not some common whore, Sigyn. You are my wife.”

“I thought I was a widow, Loki,” she said irritably. “And Thor took care of me. Would you rather I turned to Fandral for comfort?”

“I would rather you behave in a way befitting your title. Unless you want the entire court to think you that lowly?”

“You would know all about whores, wouldn’t you, Loki? You seem to enjoy their company more than mine.”

Loki smirked, raising an eyebrow. “It would seem my kitten has grown claws in my absence. I am impressed, my lady.”

Sigyn glared at him and met it unflinchingly. He knew it bothered her that her anger hardly phased him. He’d seen worse, much worse and any wrath Sigyn could unleash on him would be nothing to him. He sat up, grimacing, and put his feet on the floor. He was fixing to rise and pour himself some wine when Sigyn’s warm fingers slipped up his back. Her lips followed, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“Loki, you know I am yours,” she purred.

“And yet you found yourself in Thor’s bed,” he replied coldly.

“Stop it. That is not fair.”

“Isn’t it? You are supposed to be Fidelity as I am Mischief and Chaos. And yet I find, after months of clinging to that thought alone, that my wife was mine alone…”

“I’m not the one who jumped from the bridge, Loki, you did,” she growled next to his ear and it was the angriest he’d ever heard her. “I thought you were dead and I had just lost our child. You are a fool if you think I was not prone to a moment of weakness under those circumstances.”

As she withdrew from him, Loki caught her wrist and pulled her back. She came easily, resting her chin on his shoulder. He sighed, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. He did not feel the need to say anything and she seemed to understand, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m yours,” she said softly and slid from the bed. He watched her cross the room on shaky legs to the bathing room. After some time, his curiosity drove him to see what she was doing and he was pleasantly surprised to find that she had drawn a bath for them in the deep soaking tub. She smiled and slid into the hot water, beckoning to him. He followed without hesitation. Despite his Jotunn heritage, he thoroughly enjoyed a hot bath to relax his aching muscles.

“There is more,” she said as soon as he settled and he sighed. Again, he refused to answer, leaving her to figure it out. “It’s the child, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he answered, his voice tight.

“There was nothing to be done. These things happen.”

“I know.”

Sigyn moved closer to him, pressing a kiss to his lips. He understood better than anyone how these things happened. It didn’t change that it had been the loss of his child and that she had to bear that pain alone. He’d never forgive himself for it. Not even the wounds the Chitauri inflicted on him could compare to the pain he felt over this. He loved each of his children dearly and it wounded him deeply that one had died.

He returned kiss, seeking the comfort of her, and pulled her close against him. Her body was soft against his and he wanted nothing more than to keep her there. Too  much time in a cold, hard place without an ounce of warmth made him appreciate and crave what Sigyn gave him. He couldn’t promise her his enduring fidelity, but for now, she was all he wanted.

“You’re healing nicely,” she said between kisses.

“Thanks to you,” he replied, and it was true. He had very few reminders of his run in with the Hulk. Sigyn was a skilled healer and the only one in Asgard willing to come near him.

“I’m glad you think so,” she said as she broke the kiss. Her hand slid down below the surface of the water and grasped him. He winced, despite her gentle touch, from the pain. He took her face in his hands and claimed her mouth again, well aware of what she was doing and grateful to be relieved of the pain.

“You are insatiable,” he growled.

“No, I’m not doing this for me.”

Her touch was still light, almost tentative as her fingers stroked him. His body’s response to her was instantaneous and he was hungry for her again, needing to claim her. She didn’t respond as he pulled at her, tried to have his way. She merely remained stubbornly where she was, touching him almost too gently. He let out a noise of frustration and she smirked.

“Trust me,” she cooed, pressing kisses along his jaw to his ear. “Relax. You’ll get what what you want.”

He did as he was told and surrendered himself to her, which came surprisingly easy to him despite everything. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back as her mouth sought his throat. He focused on the sensations she inspired and in that way she pulled a soft moan from him. She was whispering sweet little nothings into his skin and he tangled his fingers in her wet hair. He kissed her forehead, thoroughly enjoying her tender affection.

Loki groaned as Sigyn guided him into her slowly, he looked at her questioningly, knowing she was still in pain. She simply smiled and pressed another kiss to his lips. He gasped as she moved slowly on him and it took all he had to let her stay in control. Her movements were fluid and gentle and he the pressure coiling deep within him.

“Don’t worry about me, love,” she breathed. “Don’t hold back.”

He moaned, clinging to her. He was so close now that he nearly whimpered with the wanting of his release. Her mouth, so hot and her teeth grazing his shoulder pushed him that much closer. Sigyn’s walls pulsed and constricted around him, pulling one pleasured sound after another from him.

“I want to try again, Loki,” she purred. “I want a family.”

In his pleasure clouded mind, it struck him as a remarkable thing that she’d know his true parentage and still not only want to stay married to him, but bear his children as well. She knew what could happen, as she was well-acquainted with his other offspring and yet she was willing. He suddenly felt overwhelmed with his love for her and it was a welcome feeling after so much hate.

“You want to be with child again,” he asked through a groan, searching her pretty teal eyes for any deception, finding none.

“Yes,” she answered, kissing him deeply. Her tone was almost pleading and it sent a delicious shiver down his spine. “Please, Loki…”

It was the push he needed to send him over. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, unable to hold back the groans that tore their way through him. He held her close as he managed to thrust into her in the rush of his release. It was white-hot and blinding, sending a buzzing through his skull that raced then length of his spine. It was a beautiful jolt of electricity that thought would kill him before it would subside, and yet, he didn’t want it to stop.

Slowly, he regained his wits, becoming aware of Sigyn’s panting and her soft breasts against his chest, her walls clamped tightly around him. He nuzzled into her neck, biting her gently. He breathed in the sweet scent on her damp skin, savoring it like a fine wine. She caught his face in her hands, pulling his mouth to hers for a kiss that he drank deeply of. He shivered as she slid off of him, already lamenting at the loss of her warmth, despite the hot water.

“I love you,” he cooed tenderly to her. Her eyes went wide with the shock of it and he smirked only slightly. He said it far too little for her tastes, he knew. He used to declare it to her as often as he drew breath in a much simpler time. No matter how rarely he let the sentiment fall from his lips, he still loved her, deeply. She was the only thing in all the realms he could say he truly loved and he tried to show it in subtle gestures, especially in the wake of what happened on Midgard. But now, her selflessness and her devotion warranted a vocal declaration of his affection and he was pleased to see her cleave to it. Her eyes softened again and she nuzzled him as he pulled her close. She settled easily against him, curling into his side. He kissed her forehead and sighed contentedly.

“I love you too,” she purred from under his chin and he smiled. He’d missed her, and as things stood now, he didn’t want to be parted from her again. At least not for a very long time.

LoA: The Morning After

Asgard always had a golden glow. But at the setting and rising of the sun was when it was at its most brilliant. This sunrise was no exception. In fact, to Sigyn, this sunrise was probably more stunning than any other she had seen. She watched, through dreamy, half closed eyes from her marriage bed. Loki was gone before she woke but the bed still smelled like him and she snuggled with the pillow he’d used. She was still giddy from the wedding yesterday and smiled into the pillow, thinking about the way Loki looked as they exchanged vows, the way he held her as they danced at the banquet after, his warmth as she slept in his arms. A blush crept over her as she thought about what they still had left to do. They did not consummate their marriage in the night, simply because they were exhausted after the festivities. Thor had coaxed his brother into drinking too much mead and she had danced until she could hardly stand.

The door opened slowly and Loki appeared carrying a tray. He set it down on a nearby table and continued to the bed. He seemed almost surprised to see Sigyn awake already, but nevertheless, he smiled that trickster’s smile before kissing her. His lips were soft, gently curious, but never forceful.

“Good morning,” he said softly, barely breaking the kiss.

“Good morning,” she replied.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I slept better than I ever have before, and you?”

“I slept well,” he replied standing again. “Breakfast?”

Sigyn smiled demurely in response and watched him retrieve the tray. He set it on the bed between them. There was an assortment of fruits and berries upon the tray and she couldnt help but feel elated that Loki remembered how much she enjoyed them. She took a slice of apple and chewed it slowly, enjoying the explosion of sweet juices on her tongue.

“Arent you going to eat,” she asked when Loki simply watched her.

“No,” he replied. “This is for you.”

“But, I want to share this with you,” she said, picking up another slice of apple, a hopeful smile on her lips. “You’re my husband, Loki.”

Loki watched her for another moment as a smile began to pull at the corners of his mouth. He parted his lips and waited patiently as she slipped the apple slice into his mouth. When he had finished swallowing, he licked his lips slowly. The motion was mesmerizing to her and she could not help but be drawn in by it. She leaned across the tray and claimed his lips, still sticky from the apple. He answered by flicking his tongue over her own lips, coaxing hers out to touch softly, acquainting themselves with another.

“You’re not eating your breakfast,” Loki said between kisses.

“Breakfast can wait,” she replied breathlessly, heat rising in her to an unbearable level.

Loki broke away from her and sighed, looking down at the tray between them. He stood, picking it up and walked it back over to the table. He put it down in seemed to be a regretful manner and then sighed again.

“And to think I spent so much time putting this together,” he said.

“And it was and will be appreciated greatly,” cooed Sigyn. “Come, sweet husband and let me show you how grateful I am.”

“Ungrateful woman,” he mumbled, laughter in his eyes.

Sigyn smiled as Loki made his way back to her. She lay back, into the pillows as he crawled over and kissed her again, this time harder and more demanding than before. She answered by wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and forcing him to settle on his elbows. She could feel his desire for her as her own heated her body, making her feel like she couldn’t get close enough to him, though he was pressed against her.

It wasnt long before they had both managed to wiggle out of what little clothing they had on. Loki had kissed and caressed every inch of her, wracking her body with unbearable amounts of pleasure with just the touch of his finger tips. He was over her again, kissing her, pressing himself against her. She laced her fingers in his black hair and moaned softly against his lips.

“Loki, please?”

With a groan, he pushed into her, eliciting a gasp that she could not stop. He stayed there a moment, perfectly still, blatantly savoring the feeling of being one with her. She quivered under him, watching him as he began to breathe heavily, his rising lust causing him to visibly shiver. She leaned up and kissed him again, biting his bottom lip softly. He let out a small moan and seized control of her mouth, slipping his tongue between her lips and she submitted happily to his exploration. One of his hands found hers and he laced his fingers through hers, holding her hand tightly. His eyes found hers and they gazed at each other for a long moment.

“I love you,” said Loki in the sincerest tone she had ever heard from him. Before she could reply, he kissed her again, but as softly as their very first kiss had been and she knew he didnt want this to be about lust. This was about love. Their love.

Much to her shuddering pleasure he began to thrust, at first in long, deep strokes that slowly made her rise closer to peak of pleasure. He kissed a line to her neck where nibbled gently, causing her whole body to tingle in a wave of goosebumps as she moaned softly in his ear. They became so wrapped in each other and their steady love-making that they lost all sense of time. She didnt know how many times he brought her to climax, how many times he’d whispered a sweet nothing against her flesh, how many scratches her nails left on his back, or even how many MAY have heard their moans. She didnt care either. She was blissful in his arms, happier than she had ever been before. Here she had the man she loved more than anything in the entire realm and he loved her equally as much.

A very bold idea struck her suddenly. Here Loki had showed her in every physical way he could think of and had yet to be fully pleased himself. She grinned up at him before suddenly throwing her weight against him and rolling him quite suddenly onto his back. The look of shock still hadn’t left his face as she finished adjusting herself on him. She was lightheaded and for some reason that made her feel bolder.

“It’s my turn, love,” she said heavily, kissing his chest, his neck, and finally his mouth. His hands snaked over her, touching her everywhere before finally settling on her hips as she moved on him. “Just lay back and enjoy.”

“No,” he moaned. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her back. “I want to be close. I want…”

“Yes?”

“I want…” he trailed off, a hand running up her spine and into her hair. He moaned against her mouth while she moved. “I want this.”

Loki held her tighter as he began to move in unison with her, his lips pressed firmly against hers as he moaned. It wasnt long before she was at the peak of pleasure again, her muscles aching. This time, he gripped her hard, his nails biting at her flesh, as he shuddered beneath her. His final groan reverberated inside her as she shivered in the aftermath of their shared climax. After a moment to recover, Loki covered her in kisses before he fell back into the plush bed. He was still breathing hard when she curled up beside him, snuggling into his neck.

“What time do you think it is,” she asked, still breathless herself.

“I dont even want to think about it,” he said with a chuckle.

“Loki…”

“Hmm?”

“I love you too.”

Loki smiled and kissed her forehead, pulling her closer to him. She began to drift off and settled in a murky state between sleep and and half-sleep. It seemed like only minutes but when she opened her eyes, evening had set in. She thought she was alone until she heard him breathing. She rolled over and found Loki still asleep, his back to her, the covers kicked off. She lightly ran her fingers over the scratches she had left on him. She kissed his shoulder where it was the worst as her hand ran over his ribs to his hip and over his pelvis.

“You are insatiable, woman” he said clearly, his hand catching hers as he turned his head to look at her out of the corner of his eye.

“No,” she replied smiling. “I just cant resist you.”

Loki rolled over and propped himself up on his elbow, still holding her hand, fingers entwined. He kissed her hand, her wrist, up to her elbow before something caught his eye. He released her hand and gently touched a spot on her side. She looked, to see what had him so interested and found a bruise under his fingertips.

“I must’ve done this when…” Loki trailed off and found her eyes again. “I’m sorry. I never meant to-”

Sigyn silenced him with a finger to his lips. She smiled lovingly at him and kissed hating to see him so distressed.

“I quite like it,” she said. “It goes nicely with the love-bites I know you left behind. Not to mention, that set of scratches I gave you.”

“Masochist,” he purred, kissing her again.

“No,” she smiled smugly. “I’m just proud to be marked by my husband.”

“The come here and let me give you more marks to be proud of.”

Loki smiled and with a playful cackle, he grabbed her and pulled her on top of him. She squealed in delight, which faded into a soft moan as he kissed her passionately, holding her face between his hands.

“I hope they don’t mind us missing dinner,” she giggled.

“They don’t expect us till morning,” Loki replied with a grunt, flipping her onto her back and grinning down at her.

“Well then,” she replied. “Mark away.”

Rail Yard Ghost excerpt

***WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT*** 
Trigger Warning: Suicide/Gore

We hunkered down in the thicket of wild blackberries next to the tracks. Matisse pulled off his boots and massaged his aching feet. Artemisia wrinkled her nose at the smell coming off her brother's socks. Dante opted to keep his boots on. He became more fascinated by the prospect of fresh produce. I, however, had my eyes glued to the tracks, almost shivering with anticipation at the thought of getting on another train.

"We won't be catching out from here," Dante said, popping a fat berry into his mouth. "Nothing but hotshots. Still gotta hike a ways down. It's an okay place to camp for the night though."

I nodded absently. I was still high on the rush, even though we'd been walking for two days. Dante nudged me, offering a few berries. I popped them into my mouth and felt my face shrivel up at the tartness of them. Better than nothing though.

"I need to piss," Artemisia announced, standing again and trudging off a distance.

"Hey, don't sit in it this time," Matisse called after her.

"GO FUCK YOURSELF!"

The twins cackled in unison. I gave them a scathing look as I shoved another small handful of berries in my mouth. As a girl, going to the bathroom was difficult enough. Having boys around to remind you of mishaps made it that much worse. Artemisia didn't really need my help though. She had dealt with the two since she was four. They weren't even phased by my look.

Matisse waved it off. "She's not really mad. If she was she'd chuck a handful of hot shit on us both. Besides, what are little brothers for?"

A pain twisted in my chest and I looked away, struggling to swallow the fruit over the lump in my throat. I was not going to cry now. Crying wouldn't change a thing about what had happened. But, damn, I missed my own little brother. His cries rang in my skull and I could still almost feel his little arms around me from his last hug. There was no way of knowing if I made the right decision or if I made his life a living hell and there was nothing I could do even if I knew.

"Little brothers are not for pissing off their older sisters," Artemisia snapped, slapping Matisse upside the back of his head with a loud thwack. He just laughed as he rubbed the sore spot, Artemisia shaking out her sore hand. I managed a smile. It was nice to see Matisse laughing. He was too serious most of the time.

I nearly leapt out of my skin as hands cupped my face. Dante was staring at me with a great deal of concern, his thumbs wiping at my cheeks. I had hoped he wouldn't notice. But he did, like he always seemed to and I knew that he knew why I had fat tears rolling down my cheeks. He pressed his lips to mine, softly and chaste. My stomach fluttered but my heart twisted. I wanted to smile and break down at the same time. It was more emotion than I wanted to deal with. He pressed his forehead to mine, his fingers sliding into my hair.

"It's gonna be okay," he said softly. "It's gonna work out. Alex is never going to forget you or how much you love him. You'll see him again."

His other hand took my wrist and he gently stroked my brother's initials tattooed there. I wanted to believe he was right. It was just hard to see it the way he did. Alex was my life, my reason for living through the horrible things I endured. And now I didn't have him anymore. Dante had a lot of empathy for me because he missed his little sister, Georgia. But he knew he could go home whenever he wanted, while I was exiled, so he did his best to comfort me. All I could do was nod along to his words.

"We should play something. Cheer Fox right up," Artemisia chirped. Matisse was already opening his violin case. I nodded quickly at the suggestion. Nothing boosted my morale as much as watching the three of them play.

In no time the thicket was filled with their music: Matisse and his fiddling, Artemisia with her small banjo, and Dante on his travel guitar. Eventually, I joined in with my harmonica, stopping only to sing along to the songs I knew. Punk rock never sounded so good.

Between songs I heard the familiar high singing of the rails. A train was coming. I crawled out of the bushes to watch it go by. Aside from riding the freighters, nothing was better than feeling the blast of wind as one barreled by. Dante was right behind me. I could already see the bright orange engine down the line a ways. They must have spotted us too because the horn shattered the air, sending shivers up and down my body. I heard Dante chuckle.

That was when I saw her, crouched in the grass across the tracks and up the line from us. I'm not sure she saw us, but she probably knew we were there because of the music. I instantly got a bad feeling in my gut, though I wasn't sure why. The train horn blew again and the woman tensed. Dante's fingers curled around my arm and he tugged gently on me. I pulled away, wanting to see the train. It was almost to us, engines roaring and horn blasting. The woman stood up and Dante tugged on me again.

I made a sound as the woman threw herself in front of the train. She was trying to lay on the rail when it hit her with an audible THUMP. She flew a few yards towards us before hitting the ground, the train overtaking her quickly and running right over her. There was a mist of blood and screeching of emergency brakes being applied. Her torso, or what was left of it landed in front of us, dead eyes staring past me. I couldn’t tell if she had been pretty before now, she was just gore on the ground in front of me, around me. The smell was gagging me already.

"Holy shit," I heard Matisse say. "Holy fucking shit."

"We need to go," I heard Artemisia gag out.

I just stared at the pile of oozing meat at my feet. The train was slowing, the screeching deafening. Artemisia was trying not to vomit. Matisse was shuffling around behind me. Dante was talking. And the eyes rolled around one last time. I've lost my god-damned mind, I thought. My legs turned to jelly and I collapsed, screaming. At least, I think it was me screaming. My throat felt shredded after and I was fairly sure my lungs were inside out by the time I stopped. A few seconds felt like hours. Dante hauled me to my feet and gave me a good shake.

"Stop that! We have to go NOW," he barked. He was scared. He gathered me up against him and pulled me along back into the thicket. Matisse had his boots and pack on, looking ready to bolt. Artemisia had already started down the trail, not waiting for her brothers or me. Dante shoved my pack into my arms and pushed me along as he grabbed his own things. I stumbled over a rock and Matisse caught me before I could eat shit. I heard the train jolt to a halt finally as we followed Artemisia's tracks.

I was on autopilot. I had never seen anything so horrible in my life. Sure, I had cleaned up roadkill and half eaten, maggot infested rodents that my cats or coyotes had killed. But that been a person. I had just watched a person die. I saw a person get obliterated. And Dante had known it was going to happen. He had tried to pull me away from it.

I was numb for the rest of the day and well into the night. None of us felt like playing music when we finally made camp for the night. Artemisia, tough as nails, went a little ways from camp to cry privately. Matisse followed her just to watch her back in case of any big animals that might want to make a meal of her. I stayed with Dante while he made a fire. He was quiet while at his task. I sat cross legged with my pack in my lap, hugging it tightly.

"You knew," I said finally, my throat still hurting a bit.

He nodded.

"How?"

"Not the first time I've seen it," he sighed.

Not the first time? He had seen something that awful before? And he was okay? I reached out and touched his shoulder. He sighed again.

"It was while we were on the road. Some rest stop in gods only know where. My folks had stopped the bus. Smoke break. Pee break. Some kind of break. Matisse and I were maybe... 8? He was in the bathrooms with Mom and Artemisia. Dad was checking the engine or whatever and I wanted to help. A train was coming and I got excited. Then all the sudden, this guy got out of his car and just ran up to the tracks...."

I stared at him. He said nothing else, just prodded the log in our little camp fire with a big stick. I scooted closer to him until I was right against his side.

"I've seen people fall under trains while catching out," he continued. "Dumb first timers who read an article on it and thought they could do it. I've seen people killed at rail crossings because they were dumb enough to think they could actually beat a fucking train."

I put my head on his shoulder. He put his arm around me and sighed again, rubbing my shoulder gently. "I've seen a lot of shit, Foxy. A lot of shit. I'm sorry you had to see it too."

"Why do people do it like that," I asked, sadly. "It's so fucked up."

"It's fucked up any way you do it," he replied. "There is no clean way to kill yourself. You're always going to fuck up the people around you by doing it. Especially the person who is unfortunate enough to find you after."

I nodded. I had no room to talk. I had scars up and down my arm from trying to find a way out of my misery. No wonder Dante was reluctant to let me come out here with him and Matisse. He'd seen some shit. He was afraid I'd get an idea to do it. Maybe he was scared that seeing it would make me want to do it. I shuddered hard and his arm tightened around me as he prodded the log again.

"Do you think Artemisia is okay," I asked.

"She will be. She's never seen a suicide like that before but she's seen her fair share of shit. She will cry it out and then it'll be like it never happened. That's how she rolls."

"And Matisse?"

He shrugged. "Same as me."

"You?"

"Okay. I got you to look after. You?"

"I feel fucked up," I said, sullenly. "Like... I don't know how to describe it. It's just..."

I gave up trying to put it into words. His head rested on mine and I knew he didn’t expect me to keep trying to explain it. He already knew because he had been in my shoes before. I sighed and then yawned. I was exhausted but I had no desire to sleep. And definitely none to eat. Sex was also out of the question. I just stared into the fire until my eyes watered, hoping the heat would burn the image of gore out of my skull eventually. Booze sounded like a fantastic idea, but we were at absolute zero there too. There was nothing for it.