"Right. Worry later. Rest now." His hand was starting to ache more severely, and some rest would do him good. He turned to kiss her first, cupping her cheek and smoothing his thumb across her jaw as it broke. He couldn't help but appreciate every part of her, every inch of skin and bone. He sighed and sank down, allowing himself to curl up with his head in her lap, eyes closing as he shifted to get into place. Sleep was quick to follow, between a full belly and his lover close at hand, and in moments his breathing was slow and even and steady.<br/><br/><i>He dreamed, this time, a strange one. The world moved in slow motion, a forest aflame all around him. He sped as quickly as he could through the burning trunks but it was like trying to push his way through air made out of thick velvet. Vanguards leapt into view but he gunned them down, moving just quickly enough to bring his pistol to bear against men with grey skulls over their heads and men with tattoos of crossed swords on their naked chests. Those he could not shoot he cut down with his hatchet, pulse hammering as he swung with every ounce of force he could muster. There was no sound. No crackle of fire, no loud pops or snaps as it consumed sap and air trapped in the trees, no sounds from the twisted lips of the men who attacked him. The weapons that scored his armor made no noise at all, nor his feet pounding the forest floor. All he could hear was a dull rush in his ears as he kept moving, forward, forward, forward. <br/>
<br/>
He found where he was headed, but tripped over a fallen enemy as he made for the base of the tree ahead. He turned to see Oliver Gillian laying there, blood welling out of his stomach, his dead eyes fixed on Carson's face. </i>You swore to me<i>, he wheezed through blackened lips, darkness spilling out of his lips. </i>You swore to keep her safe! You swore, Strider, as I lay dying!<i> Carson turned and crawled on all fours, desperate and mindless, toward the base of the trunk. A figure was slumped there, raven hair obscuring her face, hands wrapped around a shaft sticking out of her belly. No. No, no, no. It couldn't be. Malia. Malia! MA--<br/>
</i><br/>"--Lia!" He woke with a start, jerking upright from where he sat, though the sudden movement sent a fresh, painful throb through his arm. He winced and cradled it, teeth grit against the pain, and sat up as quickly as he could manage. His heart was hammering, pupils dilated as the panic hammered through him. "Oh, fuck," he panted, covering his eyes and breathing slowly steadying. "Oh... fuck me. Shit."