The Woods of Mystery were cloaked in darkness, yet Lance departed for their depths without a second thought. Truthfully, the first thought never occurred either. When he awoke to a lonely camp with an empty bed across from his own his legs carried him into the forest. Even now he wasn’t considering his safety or even the purpose of his journey, only that a compulsion propelled him forward without a glace behind.

It was cold, a fact exacerbated by his lack of forethought to put on his coat or even his shoes. Dried leaves and prickly brambles punctured the soles of his feet, but his determination overpowered the pain. He began to wonder if perhaps this was all a dream, as that was how out of control of his actions he felt to be.

Some of the sights he passed resembled images he might have seen -or fabricated- in the past. He’d walked this forest three times; each one resulted in a different encounter with Bael. The first was the night he’d died for the very first time, when Bael found him under assault of the Lost One. Lance remembered admiring Bael’s ethereal beauty and his, admittedly, subconscious desire to see the mysterious being again. The second time he was greeted by the end of Bael’s spear, a comical memory afterwards. Bael had been so insufferably callous and rude that Lance’s admiration grew into disdain. Lance had wanted nothing more than to leave and never suffer the so-called ‘Lord of the Woods’ and his childish mockery again.

The last time was one of Lance’s most vivid memories. Bael revealed to him a deep and painful secret; one that he had dared not share with anyone else in the world. This had meant the universe to Lance, and to think of it now made his breath hitch. He wanted that Bael in his life again so badly. The time they spent at odds with each other now vastly surpassed the few days they spent as dear friends. Yet Bael’s mirthful eyes and boyish grin was forever etched into Lance’s mind.

As he traipsed through the undergrowth, once again lost in thought, a violet shimmer in the corner of his eyes drew him back to reality. This being the first new sight in the hours since he started walking, Lance eagerly pursued the glimpse in the hopes he would find whatever his body was guiding him towards.

In the heart of the forest, under a beam of moonlight in a ring around a fallen log, bright violet fungi grew. On the edges of his memory Lance recalled them being named King’s Bane toadstools. They were his long sought after cure; the very thing he was trying to find that first fateful night here.

Cautiously, with a large leaf to prevent touching it directly, Lance plucked one and held it aloft. After all this grief and suffering, his reason for travelling with Bael was in his hand. It meant he could go home and forget everything. Bael may hunt him down, but with this he would never need to give in to the other man’s demands. He could start healing.

Yet, his feet would not turn around to lead him out of the woods. After quickly placing the toadstool in his breast pocket, Lance’s body kept moving forward deeper in.

Wait, what had he been thinking? Abandon Bael and forget everything they had gone through together? Lance couldn’t believe he had just entertained such an abhorrent thought. Bael had been destroying himself for Lance’s sake. This wasn’t to say Lance wasn’t mad at what Bael had been doing; he was furious in fact. But it was a fury that was quelled with a heartfelt apology, not forsaking the other person. Lance knew Bael must be hurting somewhere far away right now. Every death in front of Bael shook the other man to the core, that much Lance knew without doubt.

Lance felt hollow knowing he had died and would die again, but Bael possessed a vivid memory of the acts. To him they were not dreams, but images fresh in his mind’s eye.

With thoughts turned to Bael, an oft-occurring habit, Lance failed to notice the growling until its deep bass coursed through his chest. Just a few steps ahead of him lurched a hulking beast. It was no taller than himself but about five times as wide. He struggled to discern what manner of forest being it was, and instead of fleeing he stood stock-still.

It struggled to maneuver, appearing to be uncomfortable controlling its limbs. He surmised its grunts and grumbles were noises of frustration as opposed to threatening. Its body appeared to be black and white, with the lighter color standing out in stark contrast to the environment. As its head swung from side to side Lance noticed its eyes were blood red.

He gasped, and the beast lumbered around to face him while rearing onto its hind legs. Its posture resembled that of a bear, but Lance finally perceived the truth of its appearance. It was a stalbeast; the shambling skeletal remnants of an animal who was transmogrified by the forest’s influence.

Lance fell backwards and pitifully attempted to crawl away from the hulking monstrosity. The stalbeast clumsily stepped forward on its hind legs, lifting its forepaws high. He cowered in anticipation of the beast’s strike.

“Gooooo awaaaayyyyy!” rasped a deep, echoing voice. Out of the darkness propelled a darkened, shimmering mass.

Why was this sight familiar? Regardless, the glimmering shadow diverted the stalbeast’s attention, allowing Lance to shimmy behind a tree. From there he watched the shadow shift its shape to assume what only Lance could guess was something humanoid holding a long stick. Its free hand, if one could call it that, raised to curl its fingers inward in a come-hither at the stalbeast.

The stalbeast struck first, leaning the full weight of its body into its opening strike. Unfortunately the shadow was not nimble and took the full brunt of it, a portion of its form breaking off and erupting into brilliant light. This light caused the stalbeast to howl and cover its eyes with its paws, granting the shadow a window of opportunity. The shadow swung hard and fast, colliding directly with the center of the stalbeast’s spine. Its bones promptly scattered in all directions, with the head falling to the ground. The eyes still glowed with garish light.

The shadow plunged the stick it held into the skull and the light became dark. Immediately the mass of shadow shuddered and its entire form shattered into individual orbs of light. After spending enough time with one, Lance knew immediately this was a group of fairies.

As the pack of fairies heaved and danced in delight, Lance crawled out from his hiding place into full view. His eyes searched desperately for a lilac fairy but his hopes were quickly dashed.

“Hey!” a bright voice shouted.

Each of the fairies' attention turned to the bright green one who must be the source of the disruption.

“Look! It’s a human!” the green fairy shouted.

All of the fairies turned to face Lance and their tiny bodies jolted. For several awkward seconds each side stared at each other; Lance in apprehension and the fairies in what he hoped was just surprise and nothing sinister. Suddenly, the entire group’s wings fluttered and they dove towards Lance with cheers of joy.

“Not just any human, it’s Bael’s human!” several fairies shouted as they flew to Lance’s face. The whole group began to nudge his body all over, Lance interpreting as them urging him to stand.

Lance felt heat tinge his cheeks but quickly suppressed the sudden rush of emotions. “You’re all Bael’s family, right?” he asked, now standing and adorned in a multitude of vibrant colors. “Where is he?”

“He ran into the grove in a hurry a few hours ago,” a pink fairy answered. “He looked upset and wouldn’t talk to any of us. Then he rushed into his- um, the bad house. Nyx is there with him- well, as much as she can be.”

“Take me to him,” Lance said, marching forward without waiting for an agreement.

“Ugh, that’s how you’ll get lost, stupid,” a blue fairy said, flying directly into Lance’s face. “Why do you think we’re out here instead of there? Nyx wasn’t kidding when she said Bael’s human is dumb.”

Lance furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it. Arguing wouldn’t help anything, and the cooperation of these fairies was of the utmost importance right now.

“Follow me,” the green fairy said. “We’ll take you to him. You’re the only one that can go into the bad house.”

The fairies did as they promised, and without delay they arrived at the fairy grove with Lance in tow. He remembered it previously being a place of ethereal beauty filled with playful laughter and calm ambiance; now, it was far from it. A dour pallor painted the atmosphere with even the flora taking on a sickly appearance. Fairies and imps that populated the hidden hamlet were either lethargic with sorrow or erratic with distress.

Lance’s arrival shifted the atmosphere, so much so that he believed to hear the trees creak from pushing against the oppressive air. Every inhabitant turned to face him, with the weight of their stares threatening to crush him. They swarmed his body, fairies pressing into any and all free spaces while the imps fell at his feet clutching his legs.

“Help him,” they whispered, cried, and gasped.

The knot in his stomach began doubling in size with each passing, aching second. He donned a brave face before nodding in affirmation. “I’ll do everything within my power.” Then his attention shifted to the three fairies he spoke to prior. “I don’t want to delay any longer.”

“Before we go there, we want to give you something. Something we hope can help,” the pink fairy piped up. “Come with us to Bael’s house.”

As he followed, several distant haunting sounds sent a shudder through everyone present, Lance included. It fluctuated between angered howls and aching sobs. The fairies would not permit him to linger and allow his empathy to consume him, so he pressed onwards with shoulders squared. Still yet, his knees trembled with each step.

They arrived at Bael’s simple home, a long gone and faded memory but one he could vaguely recall. The simple, bare-bones furnishing was vastly outnumbered by the odd arrangement of knick knacks and baubles. A vast majority were carved wooden animals, but just as equally impressive was a collection of both professionally and self-made instruments. Lance remembered buying Bael a flute the first time they went to Ikana City. At the time it seemed such an inconsequential, trivial thing. Now, he began to consider the sentimentality of the request Bael asked of him.

“Here,” the pink fairy spoke, drawing his wandering eyes back to attention. She and two other fairies were carrying an object that was vastly larger than their sizes combined.

Lance quickly took it from their hold, a chorus of sighs following as he did so. He took a moment to examine it, noticing that it was relatively light for its size and was soft to the touch. It appeared to be a stuffed animal, a rabbit specifically, with a missing button eye and several torn stitches. While in its prime it was evidently a vibrant white bunny, it was now darkened and dirtied from exposure to the elements. He looked up at the fairies, puzzled by this gift.

“When Bael was little this was the only thing we could give him to calm him down when he got upset. He called her Lily, so we assume that must be her name. I know he’s an adult now, but sometimes the comforts of childhood still work when we’re supposed to have outgrown them.”

He quickly reflected on the soothing touch of his mother’s hand upon his hair and the corner of his lips turned up ever so slightly. “Thanks. I think this will help a lot, actually,” he answered, clutching the toy to his chest. “I’m Lance, by the way. I guess they never mentioned my name before.”

“Bael did when we asked,” the green one said.

“Before that it was all ‘doe-eyed human’ this and ‘rich boy’ that. Every time he came back to check on the grove. It was funny at first but pretty annoying quickly after,” the blue one explained.

“I was the one that asked,” the pink one said with a small shake and proud lilt to her voice. “I’m Leaf by the way. That one is Ciela” -she waved a wing at the green one- “and the other is Neri.”

“Nice to meet you three,” Lance responded, fidgeting with his hair. “So, he- uh, he talked about me a lot?”

“Mostly just when he was watching you early on. Before you two became attached at the hip,” Neri said before Ciela roughly bumped into her. “Hey!”

“You can whine about being jealous later,” Ciela scolded. “And you” -she turned to Lance and flew up to his face- “can continue the formalities later. If you haven’t noticed the whole area is getting sick from his strong negative emotions.”

Lance fervently nodded and bid the fairies to lead the way, tightly clutching Lily as if his livelihood depended on this stuffed toy.

As they progressed deeper into the grove the sickness that consumed its inhabitants became all the more apparent. Fairies laid upon the ground in disarray, and had it not been for their dim glow Lance might have thought them all dead. The greenery had shriveled into decay and the trees slacked to brush their branches along the ground. It was nothing like Lance had ever seen. Plants could be wiped out by a blight from time to time, but these were not symptoms of a mere illness. Every form of life that lived here was grieving, and with each pitiful noise that echoed their spirits died a little more.

“How is Bael capable of having such a tremendous effect on the forest like this?” Lance asked, marveling at his surroundings. Either he was immune to its effects or his numbness to reality persisted, what was true he could not decide.

“It’s not really him exactly,” Ciela began, followed by a deep yawn. “Fairies have a deep connection to our environment and our emotions can affect it. It’s not often we feel negative emotions as strongly as your kind.”

“Bael’s different in that way,” Leaf added. “He’s tried all his life to deny his humanity, but when staring it down he buckles under its pressure.”

“Quiet! We’re not supposed to say anything about that,” Neri barked weakly, a yawn overtaking her.

Bael’s shouting became somewhat intelligible as the ‘bad house’ rose to view between the downtrodden trees. He wept uncontrollably, his voice sounding pitifully hoarse as he was wracked by sobs. Lance focused on what he was saying to try and discern what he could be saying.

Home. Lance definitely heard him talking about a home. A place he missed dearly and wanted to see again it seemed. Someone he wanted to see there more than anything in the world. The last thing he heard, however, made him stop still in his tracks with a hand knotted in his shirt.

“Mama,” Bael uttered, desperate and pleading. “Why did you do this to me?”

Lance shambled forward as his mind blocked out any further conversation from the fairies. He had no clue why Bael was saying what he was, only that he felt a deep empathy at this type of pain Bael was experiencing. A mother was typically the first person in someone’s life to love them, or deny it were they cruel enough to do so, and could shape the foundation of life going forward. Yet Lance also grew worried for this now shaken Bael who so far had remained stalwart and eternally confident. Just how far had Lance’s friend regressed?

“Lance,” a voice called from close by.

He jolted as the familiarity reached behind the mental barrier he built around himself. Looking up he saw Nyx, who was now surrounded by Lance’s three fairy escorts. Without a face to see he could never read her emotions, but with the kind sound of her voice and the patience she was showing, Lance liked to believe she was happy to see him.

“You came to see him,” Nyx said fondly.

“I did,” Lance replied, brow furrowed as Bael’s anguish returned to his awareness.

“He told me to stay close by in case you showed up. I’m supposed to send you away, according to his wishes.”

“Will you?” he asked cautiously.

“No,” she answered.

Lance peered at the rundown shack that housed the stalfos Bael had once shown him; where Bael now let an onslaught of terror siege his entirety. “Why did he come h-”

“Not this time,” she interrupted.

His look of confusion earned a soft sigh from her, but not one of contempt. The sound was sad, concerned, and simply tired.

“I’m always filling in the blanks that Bael leaves unanswered and that’s not right of me to do. You need to hear what you want to know from him. Don’t let him push you away again.” She drew closer to his face, flying right alongside his cheek to press her illuminated warmth against his ear. “Save him before we lose him forever. Share his burdens, Lance. Show him he doesn’t have to be alone.”

He walked alone to the house, as the fairies would not dare come an inch closer to the nauseating darkness that lurked within. This was nothing. Lance had seen and felt too much suffering in his young life. Sadness could never frighten him, not when standing against it together could lift someone from its depths.

The door creaked open and a cold chill traveled down the length of his spine.

Bael was slumped on the floor, partially obscured by the darkness of the windowless structure. His head was pressed close to the rib cage of one of the stalfos, his arms enclosed around its upper body. The one cradling him peered down with its sunken blood-red eyes, one of its hands resting on top of his head. Its teeth chattered while emitting a low hiss, which at first alarmed Lance until he noticed its hand stroking Bael’s head. The other stalfos reached out its hands towards them, but the chains that bound it prevented it from drawing near. It made the same unsettling noises, albeit the hisses were more akin to airy whimpers.

“Mama, why? I told you and Dad we shouldn’t leave her all alone. She wanted us there with her. That’s all she ever wanted, Mama. I want to go home. Take me home, please. I can’t stand it here anymore,” Bael sobbed.

Lance approached with great trepidation, barely permitting himself to breathe. It was much to his dismay that he happened to step on a loose floor plank that immediately alerted the perceptive Bael. His head spun around with teeth bared like a feral dog and sclera tinged red. Bael’s eyes widened as they landed upon Lance who stopped the moment they locked eyes.

The temperature felt as if it plummeted, but Lance puffed his chest and maintained eye contact. He wasn’t backing down, no, he couldn’t back down. If Bael wanted him gone, he’d just have to kill Lance himself. Then he would return again, and again, and again. From now until eternity.

Bael started clamoring to his feet but stumbled back to the ground. His fist slammed into the floor as he cursed. Then he looked up at Lance once more before crawling towards him. “Go home, Lance. You don’t belong here.”

“No. I’m done letting you have your way,” Lance stated, voice faltering as Bael gripped his pant legs to pull himself upward. “You’re stuck here with me until I’m satisfied.”

After rising to his knees Bael’s grip shifted to secure a firmer hold. He began to push against Lance’s hips, biting his lower lip when he was met with resistance. Lance had initially prepared himself to be immediately dropped, but blinked in surprise when remained standing. After realizing that Bael wasn’t going to stop until he succeeded, Lance conceded to his pitiful display and allowed himself to be pushed to the floor.

“Satisfied? You want satisfaction, is that it?” Bael rasped, hands gripping the collar of Lance’s shirt, pulling it taut. Bael’s upper body now draped across Lance’s torso. “How about this, human? I’m done helping you; you’re on your own. I’ll slay every god in this land with my own two hands without you holding me back any longer,” he threatened, the venom in his voice dampened by persistent hiccups.

“Help me?” Lance rose to a sitting position, hands on Bael’s upper arms causing him to wince. “Fat load of help you’ve been lately. Thanks to your help I can never forget what it feels like to have my muscles ripped from my bones. To have all my organs rupture simultaneously as I’m eaten alive. One of my biggest fears in life has been to die alone, and now I’ve done it more times than I can count. You can shove your ‘help’ up your ass.”

Bael grimaced, either due to his words or Lance’s tight hold on him. He tried -and failed- to wriggle free from Lance. “All of that would have happened whether or not I got involved.”

“It would be better if you hadn’t been there, truth be told,” Lance said, body tensing as the heat of the moment began to consume him. “Then maybe I could enjoy my time alive instead of wishing I was just dead. To not have someone I care about turn their back on me when I need them most.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Bael said, eyes dropping as his fiery spirit began to depart.

“I don’t think it’s complicated at all. I think you’re scared of change; scared of it so damn much you’d stab yourself in the heart to prevent it from happening.” Lance’s grip lightened but his hold on Bael remained. Never before had Bael looked so small and vulnerable as he did now. Mere moments from shattering into pieces if not handled with care.

“Why are you even here in the first place?” Bael shot back. “If you hate me so much why even bother? My hands are stained with your blood now and there’s no way to undo that memory. You should have taken the chance to go home and forget about everything.”

“Because,” Lance began, “I deserve retribution for what you’ve done to me. You’re the only one I can get that from.”

Bael exhaled heavily before turning his head away. “You want to kill me, is that it? Or maybe torture is more your thing.”

“No. That’s not enough for me or for your crimes. I need something, or rather, several things from you that are much more potent,” Lance said, dipping his head to try and see Bael’s face.

“Like what?” Bael asked, indignant as ever.

“First, I’d like an apology.”

“I- wait, what? An apology, really?” Bael asked incredulously. “That’s not going to fix a fucking thing.”

“I get to decide what fixes what, not you,” Lance answered sharply.

Bael held fast while staring at the floor. His cold, sweat-slickened body trembled against Lance. His breathing accelerated as he reflexively tightened and slacked his hold on Lance’s shirt. “I already did. Be- before you died. Before I killed you. And everything is still the same.”

Lance lifted his free hand to grasp Bael’s chin between his fingers, turning the other man’s face to face him directly. When their eyes met Bael’s tears began to flow once more, wracked by sobs deep within his chest.

“Say it again. I couldn’t accept it then and now that time is gone. This is a new life for us to take another chance,” Lance whispered, eyes half-lidded as he lost himself in Bael’s despondent expression.

The pair of stalfos whined, observing their display with what could only be interpreted as confusion. This wasn’t Lance’s ideal moment for a deeply intimate exchange between the two of them, but he’d captured lightning in a bottle in this instance. Come hell or high water, he wasn’t letting go.

“Sorry,” Bael mumbled, eyes averted sharply to the side.

“Speak up. I can’t hear you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Lance asked, his thumb grazing across Bael’s skin at the corner of his lips.

“I’m sorry you went through so much pain in Ikana.”

“No. Even though it was horrifying I don’t blame you for what happened to me. Apologize for things you have done, Bael.”

Bael huffed as he dropped his grip on Lance’s shirt. He then began striking his fists into Lance’s chest, though just as before the impact was weak and caused no pain.

Lance frowned. “Please look at me.”

“I can’t,” Bael replied between blows.

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t!” Bael’s teeth bared once more and resumed locking eyes with Lance. “No matter what you want or what I want things can’t be different. Don’t think I don’t know what you want, Lance. They’re the same things I want,” he whined, pausing to catch his breath. “I am bound to this place until the day I finally die. You’re a human beloved by many and have a chance at real happiness some day. I won’t let myself get in the way of that.”

Lance’s brows furrowed, heat rising in his chest. “You’re such an idiot. I can’t believe you put me through all of this misery because of a stupid idea you have in your head. Are you always this presumptuous? Deciding what’s best for other people without their consent?”

Bael tensed, mouth opening several times before clamping shut completely. Lance continued to stare him down, expectant and unrelenting in reaching a resolution for them both. Eventually Bael’s posture shifted and he jerked his head out of Lance’s tender hold. He reached for the glove on his hand and tore it away, tossing it carelessly to the side.

“You see this?” Bael shouted, his now uncovered hand shoved into Lance’s face mere inches away. “This is what I am and will never cease to be. I’m a monster with a hand that can only kill.”

The entirety of his right hand was skeletal and the exposed bone extended just past his wrist. Lance took a deep breath at the surprise but didn’t recoil from Bael. This was the moment that mattered most of all, he believed. He needed to treat it with the utmost care.

Lance drew both of his hands towards his chest and began to undo the first several buttons. Bael heaved, eyes darting down at the motion but not dropping his hand. His face was perplexed but he dared not speak to voice his confusion. Once the buttons were undone Lance pulled the left side of the shirt back to further expose the skin. It was unfair to think so, but Lance felt equally as vulnerable as Bael by doing so.

His other hand grasped Bael by the wrist of his right arm and immediately Bael fought hard to pull away from him. Lance’s grip was firm yet kind, presenting no threat of harm to the one he held captive. Lance drew Bael’s hand downward despite his protests, and slowly forced the cold bones to press against his breast. Right where his heart was located.

“If that’s true then I must have died by now,” Lance said with a warm smile. “Just because you’re different from me doesn’t make you a monster. Any hand can kill someone, just the same as any hand can touch someone’s heart.”

Bael’s lip quivered and it took every ounce of willpower within Lance to not relent. He just wanted to wrap the other man up in his arms so badly until they both forgot what it meant to hurt. Therefore, he remained outwardly composed and steadfast.

“What’s that moving?” Bael asked suddenly, his fingers carefully curling against Lance’s warmth. “There’s something bumping under your skin.”

At first Lance didn’t know how to answer. Hopeful that Bael wouldn’t move, he released Bael’s wrist and placed his hand over the one on his heart. There Lance felt the vibrant, youthful rhythm of his heartbeat.

“That’s my heart beating to keep me alive. Every living thing has one,” Lance explained kindly.

Abruptly Bael grasped the hand Lance held to his chest and pulled it against his own. He held it splayed flat over his chest just as Lance had done, Bael’s left hand pressed firmly on top of it.

“Do I have one too?” Bael asked desperately, eyes full of fearful anticipation.

Lance didn’t even need to wait. Underneath his hand drummed a fast, powerful beat of Bael’s heart. He imagined this must be what the heart of a child would be like. “It’s there without a doubt. Beating even faster than mine.”

They were interlocked by the weight of this moment they shared. Each man with a hand on the other’s heart, neither able to move for fear of shattering the odd serenity.

“Hey, Lance?” Bael whispered.

Lance hummed in acknowledgement.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I said and did all those awful things to you. I didn’t mean any of it,” Bael said, tears threatening to break free at any second.

He pulled Bael into his chest to hold him close. Bael eagerly returned the embrace as the two wound their arms around each other. Lance rested his chin on top of the other man’s head, while Bael burrowed his face into Lance’s chest.

“I’m so happy to hear you say that,” Lance said, finally permitting himself to shed a tear as his protective barriers began to break down. “No matter what I’ve been through, the hell I’ve seen and felt, this is the only thing I wanted. I just wanted to know you still cared.”

“I’m glad you didn’t throw me away. After everything I’ve done, and what I am, I just can’t believe someone would think of me so highly,” Bael said, partially muffled as his mouth remained pressed against Lance.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Lance teased, earning a small chuckle from Bael that tightened an ever present knot in his stomach. “Not even death can pull me away from being a thorn in your side.”

They laughed. Together. It was everything Lance could ever hope and want to have. The scene wasn’t picturesque like a storybook, and that was okay by him. Theirs was an unconventional story; everything they would do and hope to be was in opposition to what the world said they should be. Once upon a time Lance desired a fairy-tale life and he was getting the complete opposite. If he had the chance to do it all over again he would choose this path again and again. The hurts were deep, but the emotional satisfaction was unlike he had ever known prior.

“Now, I hate to ruin this moment, but what else did you want from me?” Bael asked, head pulling back but staying embraced.

“Ah, I guess I should get around to that. Don’t want to keep those waiting on us worried for too long.” Lance reached down nearby where Lily had fallen by the wayside. He could have brought her out sooner, but frankly Lance wanted to earn this resolution on his own. If he’d used a sentimental trick it would never feel authentic. Nor did he want to feel jealousy of a stuffed toy.

“They gave this to me to give to you,” he said, holding Lily between them.

Bael’s eyes lit up before shutting tight as his mouth curled into a pained smile. He hurriedly took the toy from Lance and cuddled it tight before falling forward against Lance again. His body began to shake once more.

“The other thing I want, Bael,” Lance began, one hand stroking Bael’s back while the other over his hair, “is the bigger request admittedly.” He then took a deep breath.

“I want you to tell me the truth. About everything.”