Brandon and Ezekiel just slept soon after being reunited. 

Relief and exhaustion was unstoppable, and their individual pains couldn’t be ignored. Kisses had melted into falling into sleep, wrapped around each other to fight the constant cold. They slept with Brandon on his side, The shifter wrapped around him from behind, the snarls and growls of the Leopard, even his purring a soft song in the silence of thier shared warmth.

After a long drousy nightmare Brandon came awake with a small shout as a weight settled over him, strong and hard, Ezekiel beckoned him up from his sleep. Untold hours could have passed or days. But Brandon was too groggy to care which, as he moved stiffly. The Guardian moved gently, pulling the Druid up from the cold floor, Ezekiel let Brandon wrap his arms around his shoulders and settled the man on his hips, stradeling the Guadina so thatt hier chests came close.

“Brandon your shivering...” Ezekiel called as he ran his hands up into Brandon’s hair, and kissed him, every kiss was torturous, and blissful. And when this one ended Brandon felt no relief. He felt nothing but a suffocating hollow need for more. He wanted so much to feel the pleasure of Ezekiels skin against his own. And yet there was the suffocating knowledge that he had more pressing matters to worry about.

What do I do now?

It was a stark, ugly question that wrapped around Brandon’s senses and stripped away everything. He was blindsided by it, his mind fogged and fresh from sleep. The whisper inside cut him to the bone, but it was only his own consciousness kicking him out of heaven and right back into the nightmare.

Hope. It was a fickle thing. One Brandon had never had much use for. He functioned better on anger and bitter resentment.

Sadly it was easy to feel that boyu of joy in the last few moments. It was easy to feel nothing but the completion of Ezekiels kiss, and the closeness of his skin. Brandon was ecstatic to be with him.

But inevitably such things couldn’t sustain him, and Brandon soon just felt....numb. Ezekiel tightened his embrace and just held him. Held him silently for so long, but Brandon knew the Shifter could sense his darkening mood.

It took so much to live positivity for Brandon. It always had. And his pragmatic nature was tested in the moment that passed, where he and Ezekiel simply reveled in being with someone who wished them no harm. Someone who wasn’t disgusted by them.

But still the question whispered, louder this time.

What do I do now!? They are going to kill me. They have Ezekiel! I need to do something!?

And in the void of that question Brandon settled into reality. His problem wasn’t the question per-se, it was his lack of an answer, which stole the light from him. The answer eluded him entirely. He should be doing something, right? He should have some kind of a plan, Right?

He had nothing...and now the hope he had imagined faded into cold dread.

Oh God...

Something small and weak whispered inside as he released his arms from around Ezekiels shoulders and started to scoot back from his embrace. Ezekiel stiffened, but soon released him in return...and Brandon instantly despised the loss of his warmth, but he couldn’t make himself think about anything except the coldness of his own realization. He sat slumped between the shifters legs on his knees so they could share thier eyes.

“I don’t know what to do, I think we’re going to die here Ezekiel...” Brandon heard the words, heard his own rasping whisper and in shock at himself, he threw a hand across his mouth.

Ezekiel pulled back fully at this point and looked into his eyes. And Brandon flinched as he took in his haggard state. Brandon had been so utterly desperate to be with the Guardian he had almost ignored the predicament he and the Leopard were in. The Silver had made a mess of Ezekiel’s throat, and arms.

Brandon held down bile at the sight of blistering, bloody, sliced flesh all along Ezekiels, collar, the tips of his shoulders, and all along his forearms. His flesh was pale, no longer the warm healthy vanilla it had been the last time they were together. His fingertips were trembling, blistered and raw and his eyes had light rings around them from exhaustion...and the poison seeping into his system. His chest was still bare of clothing, but his jeans were splattered in places, smeared with crimson fingertips.

The Silver glinted in the florescent light, painfully stark against the white floors, and bloody skin. Every movement released the terrible clatter of the metals across the ground, cutting Brandon’s frayed nerves to the quick. He covered his face and screamed in soundless despair.

“Brandon?” Ezekiel gently called as he reached out and put his hands on Brandon’s cheeks and Brandon snatched his eyes away from the chains and up to Ezekiels face. It was sobering to see the gentle emotion on the Shifters face as came close, he looked worried. Worried about him, when Ezekiel was the one in chains.

“Brandon talk to me...” Ezekiel whispered leaning in. “I’m right here. Talk to me.”

And at that point Brandon wanted to tell Ezekiel everything. Everything that had been done to him. Everything he had learned about himself, his broken family, his impossible age, and his own mysterious lineage. The fact that Jacob and Hovel were going to kill him if they removed the Stone.

Brandon grasped for an intelligent place to start. Floundering for words to surmise what he had endured since their separation.

Ezekiel, ran a hand down Brandon’s cheek, his blue eyes simmering with too much. “God I didn’t think I was going to see you again. It was killing me to think...” Ezekiel shook his head, and feathered his lips against Brandon’s. Not a kiss, it was more of a nuzzle, but Brandon couldn’t have been more shaken even if the Shifter had kissed him silly. Sharing such simple intimacy seemed like a miracle after the abuse he had been subjected to.

Speaking softly against his lip the Guardian asked. “What did they do to you? What happened when Hovel took you?”

And at those words, everything Brandon wanted to say came pouring from his lips like a fountain. A furious, mixed up mess of information that made little to no sense.

“I don’t know how to describe it all...” Brandon began with a truthful huff. “Hovel forced me to go deep into the base after we got separated Ezekiel. There was this man and woman there. Brother Eric and Sister Ann.” Brandon took a shallow breath.

“They were Hovels Second and Third hands and they spoke about some kind of Council, a Brotherhood, and about taking the Arci’s from me. Then Hovel took me to this disgusting room. It was covered in blood and all decrepit from abuse. Then he started doing things to me!” Brandon choked, his tongue moving so fast that he nearly bit it off. “Then Hovel said he wanted me to learn how to control my Aurora. Apparently because I’m half Alchemist I can create one and I can manipulate it. I can do Alchemy too, I think! And then Jacob...!”

“Brandon stop!” Ezekiel suddenly barked sharply, and placed his fingertips to Brandon’s lips.

“Brandon, I don’t care about the Alchemists or Jacob for that matter. I’m talking about you right now. What happened to you, I felt....”

Ezekiel slowed and took the hand he had on Brandon’s lips and fisted at his heart, and softly spread his palm over Brandon’s chest.

“I can feel the wounds inside of you. You’re in pain Brandon...tell me why...” Ezekiel took his hand and kissed the trembling finger tips, and it wasn’t until that moment that Brandon felt the entire situation, everything he had experienced slam home like a pile of bricks. He was quaking from the fear and the adrenaline and the pain and the joy, and too much. Too much terror.

And that was the thing clogging his mind, shadowing his steps. Mind numbing, soul draining fear.

Unable to ignore the way he suddenly wanted to crumble Brandon wrapped his hands around his shuddering shoulders, closed his eyes and laid his head against Ezekiel’s collar. “Can you just ho..hold me again, please? I feel sick.” Brandon pleaded even as he held himself shuddering and then he was sobbing.

Ezekiel barely let the tears fall down his cheeks before he took hold of his lover and embraced him close. Ezekiel ran his hands all over Brands face, his blue gaze soaked him in and they shared an endless string of kisses until Brandon’s cries softened and with more restraint Brandon quietly tried to tell Ezekiel more.

“When he had me...Hovel told me things. I saw things.”

Ezekiel softly pulled Brandon back towards the wall, his back to Ezekiels front the Shifter leveraged them down on the floor, and rocked Brandon. Then he asked “Explain it to me Babe.”

Brandon swallowed and closed his eyes.

“I don’t know if I can explain it! I’ve learned who my mother was and I realizes now that there is more going on here then I could ever imagine! I have seen some stuff I still haven’t absorbed. This man, Erick, he died in front of me. He was devoured alive. This thing, this monster tore him apart. It ravished him before my eyes, not because it was hungry, but because I think, it just wanted to KILL...I still can’t believe this is all happening! I can’t believe were here. I never wanted to come back to the Base!”

“It’s okay. Were okay.” Ezekiel soothed his hair, running his fingertips back across his scalp, the act was utterly calming, before Ezekiel settled Brandon beneath his chin, and growled. “I can’t believe were here either, but if you can talk about it? I’m right here. Just start from the beginning. Take it slow. Talk about it and get it off your chest babe.”

Brandon swallowed.

Talk? Is that what we should be doing right now?

This wasn’t the answer to the fear and numbness he knew, but Brandon also knew that for now, it was all they could do.

Feeling jittery, but too embarrassed to ask Ezekiel to do it again, Brandon ran a hand back through his own hair, took a long deep breath and then he started from the beginning.

Ezekiel listened in rapt attention for the long minutes that passed them by.

Then as Brandon came to the point about the horrifying tortures he had endured the Leopard was livid with rage, cursing Hovel and embracing Brandon all the tighter in comfort and sorrow for what he had to suffer at the hands of their captors.

He told Ezekiel everything about what had transpired. Everything he had learned about his power. And about the Alchemists. About a hateful man named Eric Aron. And the painful tragedy of his mother. A Druid Queen named Tatiana.

After Brandon came to speaking about how he had been taken to Hovels office and the story of his parents meeting, Ezekiel interrupted his words to kiss him on the nape and shake his head in disbelief.

They were still sitting with Brandon bundled against Ezekiel’s chest. The Shifter held him from behind, as Brandon sat cross wise on his lap, his head laid in the crook of the Shifters bare chest, giving him warmth, as Brandon soaked in the melody of the Guardians heart beat against his cheek.

His lover suddenly lifted Brandon’s face, with a knuckle to his chin, looked deep into his eyes and said. “I’m sorry about what happened to your mother Brandon. I know it was hard to hear, and I know all of this is a lot to take in.”

“You’re telling me.” Brandon muttered. Ezekiel smiled, and Brandon frowned back in contemplation. “But there is more Blue boy. So much shit happened its hard to imagine what to do with it.”

Ezekiel analyzed him for a moment, then he said softly. “Well first...Have you unpacked the fact that you’re not fully a mortal Brandon as you were raised to believe? Have you been able to take that in yet? I can understand if you haven’t, this is life changing information.”

Brandon swallowed, and then he nodded hesitantly. He still had a lot more to tell, but he knew that glossing over this question wasn’t going to make the rest of his story any easier.

“I think Im okay with it. The story about my bloodline is just about the only thing that actually makes sense to me. I don’t like it, but...” He confessed. “I believe it anyway. I believe it more then I believe in all of this shit about Gods and Prophecy’s.”

“Gods?” Ezekiel echoed, his eyes squinting at the word. Realizing that he hadn’t come to that part of his tale yet, Brandon shook his head and expressed.

“Apparently the Brotherhood has a whole religion centered on this creature they call the Scion of Darkness. A God named Bane...” Brandon shuddered and went to say more, but Ezekiel interrupted.

“Wait...” Ezekiel hissed pinched his nose and took a breath. “This is insane...now you’re telling me we’ve got a Cult on our hands? I thought we had enough going on with the damn Stone!”

Brandon smirked in frustration and added. “Oh it gets more fucked up as I go Ezekiel. And seeing as me being a Druid isn’t even dangerous, somehow me being half Druid just seems so small in the end. I can live with being half something that isn’t mortal. That doesn’t seem all that bad....even if I the last one.”

“A Druid? The last Druid, I cant even imagine what an entire race of beings as beautiful as you must have been like.” Ezekiel softly inquired, playing his thumb across Brandon cheek as he stared into his eyes. His voice melancholy and gentle. It made Brandon’s heart squeeze. Then Ezekiel asked “And because of your parents you’re also an Alchemist?” And Brandon’s heart clenched in shame.

He didn’t want the tittle. Alchmist. He didn’t want to be associated with the Brotherhood, but it was a fact he couldn’t keep running away from.

Brandon shied from Ezekiel’s gentle gaze, and shifted so that he could press his head back beneath Ezekiel’s chin. “Do you...Are you bothered by that?” He said to the Guardian already knowing what he would say.

Ezekiel caressed his shoulder as Brandon melted back into his warmth. Rumbling to him the Guardian said “I’m not bothered by any of this, maybe a little unsure? But I don’t see why I would be bothered. Besides what does it truly mean to be these things Brandon? We hardly know anything about the Druid side of your blood. And does being Hovels son mean that you can do as Hovel does? Can you do Alchemy? I mean Hovel took you and tried to make you do that right? You said he wanted you to learn Alchemy or something before?”

Frustrated before he even voiced the answer, Brandon clenched his fists. He remembered how helpless he had been. The terror he had experienced. Hovel, Eric, the Bane and Jacob, they had all had complete control over him, because no matter the power he supposedly held...Brandon couldn’t deny that he was ignorant to any of its use.

Alchemy. Mana. Ether. The Arci’s. He had no idea how to make them do as he willed. So much conflicting energy within him. And Brandon knew that he was disgusted by all of it...He had never asked to wield anything, but his own life.