Buckle Up Blondie

Chapter Twenty-one:

Six Years Later:

Scorpius snarled as he pushed away from the. His heart wept as he watched the essence of the man he had been trying to save leave his body, dead.

The man was a stranger to him, as was every injured person in the Healing Hall. He supposed for that small mercy, he should have been grateful. He should have been ecstatic that members of his family, or friends, had yet to visit him. But how could he?

How could he possibly be positive knowing that with each fight his family members went also, to attack, to defend the land they had come to call home. He couldn't breathe here.

Ignoring the startled yells of his fellow healers, the blonde ran from the room, stopping only when he had reached the edge of the forest and a wall of magic forced him back a step.

"Move, Bek!" he snarled, furious green eyes swinging to catch a glimpse of the girl. Only foliage stood out to him, until she dropped from her perch, inches from him. This was why Bek guarded the healing centres. The girl was the ultimate defensive weapon, striking down any Drohken that happened to stray from their group in the hopes of slaughtering injured men and women. And keeping in any injured men who, in the heat of revenge, tried to stumble into the forest.

Her magic thrummed along her skin, visible only to him. "Damn it, Bek, let me go!"

She stared at him, face impassive. Her green eyes were like cold stones and her stance was relaxed, as though she were not ready to attack at the slightest opportunity. "You know I was given orders not to let anyone pass this border. Go back and help in the way you are best at, healing. You are no fighter."

Scorpius advanced on the girl, who stood eye to eye with him. His only advantage over her were his wings, which he flared in annoyance. "I can fight if given the chance," he hissed, "I cannot stay here, Bek! I'll go mad!"

Bek stared him down, fingers twitching as bolts of white energy passed through them. "Would it help if I told you that the battle for today has been called off? It will not take place until dawn."

Scorpius regarded her slowly, his eyes lingering on her lips as they softened from the tight, aggressive line to a simple pout, rose-bud in shape and colour. "Will they be fighting?"

Bek sighed, her shoulders rounding. "You know well they will. Albus, Jamie, Harry, Draco, Seanchaí, Láid, Bród, Ahha and mother. They will not stop until this war is over or they are dead. Why must you ask and torment yourself? They are strong, they will survive."

"You see everyone of your kin as strong, Bek. But we are not as powerful as you. We do not fight like you do. I fear for them."

The simple admittance forced a confused sigh from Bek's throat, her brow furrowing. Yes, she feared for her family. She loved her family, she would kill for her family. But they could not die. They were warriors, like her. Some had even fought in wars before this one. "They will not die."

Scorpius growled. "You seem so sure but it only takes one weapon to take them down, Bek." his voice lowered and he advanced on the red head, forcing her back against the tree she had jumped from. "They do not heal as you do."

Bek's nose wrinkled, aggravated that Scorpius would bring up what made her different. "But you will heal them." she replied stubbornly, cheeks heated, "it is your gift, you can heal almost anything." Scorpius thought of the man he had just lost, a boy no older than himself. "Not everything," he whispered hoarsely.

For a moment, he was sure Bek would attack him for disturbing her peace of mind, but when she lunged forward, it was not to harm. It was to press soft lips against his, unsure but determined. She pulled away with hard eyes, banging on her magic wall before she scurried up into a tree and hid from view.

"I'm watching you Score. Do not make me throw you back into that Healing Room."

###

"Damn it all!"

Seanchaí started as Albus yelled, flinging a weapon at the furthest wall before dropping his head into his palms. The Elder watched his lover slide down the wall, shoulders shaking. It was not pity he felt for his mate, it was empathy. Albus was merely releasing the growing fear and pain that encapsulated both their hearts.

"Is this war ever going to end?"

The whisper was hoarse, dead as though it already expected an answer. Albus had seen too much on the field of battle for a young man. He had seen people he had grown to know fall, die and land in the dirt, only to disintegrate moments later; their cores absorbed by the magic that heated the surface of the planet.

There was never a body to bury from each battle. For each fallen hero they could offer only a symbol in the mud to guide their spirit on its way. When his father, Harry had first seen Céad's body shrivel and decompose within seconds, leaving nothing behind, he had laughed. High and hysterical and filled with anguish. Anguish that could only belong to the memory of Sirius Black and the reason Harry had never found him here.

Albus sniffed as Seanchaí placed a hand on his shoulder, before pulling him up. "It will end, Albus." The Elder's tone broke no argument as he stared into the younger man's eyes. "Though it seems endless now, and the planned battles continue as though men are not dying, in the end, they will have fought for their children's freedom."

Albus sobbed against the Elder's chest, his body tensing in misery. "I'm sorry I could not give you a child to fight for, Seanchaí." he whispered between his tears. Seanchaí soothed his hair and smiled, though it was laden with sadness. "I am old, Albus. My chances were slim. I have you to fight for."

And for a time, the Elder simply held his mate as the smaller man cried. Albus' innocence was lost, and no amount of triumph would ever bring that back.