[Watching the strain, feeling so godsdamned helpless, the tears finally fall, slow and as much frustration as anything.
That sound is horrible, awful, tears a cry from his throat and has him diving forward as though he might be able to hold them together if he's fast enough, strong enough, if he's able to endure.]
TORY!!
[He ends up face down on the stone, arms splayed out and it hurts, gods it hurts so much but physical pain is something he can endure, physical pain means nothing. Not when there's nothing but scattered parchment where his friend should be. His hands curl into fists in the paper, ink smeared over his hands and chest.
And the voice behind him is so startling, so steady and solid and real he spins around so fast he tumbles backwards, spilling back over his heels.]
T-Tory...?
[There's so much that makes so little sense but for the moment it doesn't matter because this sweet little fox is stable and solid and Gladio is scrambling forward. He collapses once, arms giving out on him, pure determination powering him the last few feet so he can throw himself at the fox, wrapping his arms around him. He all but crushes Tory to his chest, breath hitching, locking up inside him as pain lances up his spine, through his shoulders. His fingers burn and ache but none of it matters.]
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That sound is horrible, awful, tears a cry from his throat and has him diving forward as though he might be able to hold them together if he's fast enough, strong enough, if he's able to endure.]
TORY!!
[He ends up face down on the stone, arms splayed out and it hurts, gods it hurts so much but physical pain is something he can endure, physical pain means nothing. Not when there's nothing but scattered parchment where his friend should be. His hands curl into fists in the paper, ink smeared over his hands and chest.
And the voice behind him is so startling, so steady and solid and real he spins around so fast he tumbles backwards, spilling back over his heels.]
T-Tory...?
[There's so much that makes so little sense but for the moment it doesn't matter because this sweet little fox is stable and solid and Gladio is scrambling forward. He collapses once, arms giving out on him, pure determination powering him the last few feet so he can throw himself at the fox, wrapping his arms around him. He all but crushes Tory to his chest, breath hitching, locking up inside him as pain lances up his spine, through his shoulders. His fingers burn and ache but none of it matters.]
Don't fucking scare me like that.