The words were lingering on Lionel's lips. He knew he needed to focus, but he couldn't. He wanted to be fearless. As they walked down the dark hallway together, guns tight in their palms and feet steadily silent, Lionel couldn't help but be afraid. Why?

Ever since he was young, death had scared Lionel. He'd seen it too many times to pretend that it was distant. To believe as much would be to blatantly lie to himself, knowing all along, somewhere inside, that it was just a comfortable ruse to make life easier and less terrifying. But the truth was that life is hard. It's terrifying all the time.

But since he'd met Cole, it had been a different sort of terrifying. Suddenly, he wasn't just Lionel. He was Cole's Lionel. Perhaps the strongest tie he'd ever felt with anyone in his life could be cut so easily.

It was funny how instantly Lionel's life, his world, had changed. It was like Lionel had been growing tall, leaves green and bark tough. Up and up he'd gone until suddenly there was Cole, sitting in his path, a steadfast truth that wouldn't move out of his way for the world. Eagerly, Lionel had grown around him such that removing Cole from his life now would be to tear himself open, rending him in two or chopping him down altogether.

And Lionel knew that if he lost Cole, he'd fall hard. The forest floor would shake and people miles away would stumble.

This was why Lionel couldn't focus. He couldn't stop staring at Cole's injuries. He could see blood leaking through the bandages on Cole's arms. Lionel's lycanthrope blood had allowed his body to recover quickly. It wasn't just the reminder of his mate's fragility that bothered Lionel. Seeing Cole's blood brought back memories. The metallic taste of Cole's life draining out of him was still fresh on Lionel's tongue.

The two of them were walking a thin line. Lionel could feel fissures appearing in the ice below their feet, the sickening cracking of the ice breaking disturbingly similar to the sound of bones crunching.

Lionel wanted to get a few important words out before their bodies plunged into the icy black water beneath them. Maybe he was being grim, but he was just...scared. He was scared that he would die and Cole would be left alone, missing him. He was ever more scared that Cole would die and Lionel would be the one alone...again. Maybe that was selfish, but who isn't, in love? It's a curious thing that being in love with someone automatically makes any worry you feel for them selfish, solely because their wellbeing is your wellbeing and yours is theirs.

Their shared brush with death, with Mazka, had made one thing clear in Lionel's mind. Well, if he were being honest, it was more than one thing. But the specific thing he was thinking about had come into his mind the second Cole had walked into that shower, drenching himself while fully dressed, looking like a beautiful fool.

Cole was human. That was ok. Lionel loved him for it. Even if it meant they were different, Lionel would just add their relationship to the long, nearly endless list of things that seem opposites but blend together beautifully as if they were designed with the other in mind, an artful, fated pair.

With everything that came with that truth, Lionel realized that there was only one thing he could do to make everything clear, to make it easier, to steady the ground beneath their feet.

"Cole," Lionel said.

Cole's eyes immediately latched onto Lionel then darted around. He was alert. "What is it? Did you see something?"

"No. I have to talk to you," Lionel said nervously.

Cole glanced over his shoulder where Jaeda, Oliver, and a few other Pack members were. "Now's not really a great time, Lion."

Lionel agreed. It wasn't the best time. But he knew it might be the only time. Their only time. Whether he liked it or not, the Reapers were a legitimate threat. They were dangerous. Though Cole had shown that he could defend himself, one misplaced bullet and he'd be gone. The same for Lionel. He'd seen Cole about to die earlier and it was far too possible he'd see it again soon.

Maybe Lionel had gone soft. The Prowlers had gone a long while without conflict. After the Accords, things had just made sense. Peace was taken for granted. But the world was turning on its head these days, and he was going to have to remember that outside of their cozy Mansion there were howling winds. 

"I don't want to do this right now, but I have to," Lionel said.

"Do what?" Cole asked, confused. His pace slowed for half a second as if he were considering stopping in his tracks. But he started walking faster again, ruling out the option. He still seemed concerned, though. "Are you sure it can't wait?"

"It can't. It's important. It's probably the most important thing I'll ever say in my life and I can't say it if one of us is—"

"Dead?" Cole said. Cole's face changed like he suddenly understood why Lionel was so insistent. 

It was Lionel's turn to slow. They'd been walking a bit in front of the rest of the group, but Jaeda quickly caught up, sensing drama. "You look pale. You sure you're not a ghost? Who knows? If fenithrope are real, what's next?"

Lionel stared at Jaeda, forcing his feet to move. He saw her nerves behind her smile. She had a habit of talking a lot when she was anxious. This was one of those times. "Sorry, Jaeda," Lionel said, speeding up to catch up with Cole again. He didn't mean to snub her, but he needed to continue his conversation before guns started ripping the world apart.

"Are you worried about it, too?" Lionel asked.

"Of course, I am," Cole said. "Who wouldn't be?"

"Yeah," Lionel said.

"You're the love of my life. I'm not invincible. I'm fucking terrified," Cole said, not even looking at Lionel. He said it like it was just common small talk. He said it like he was discussing the weather or what kind of food he had for lunch. All the while, his eyes were scanning for threats.

When Lionel didn't say anything, Cole's gaze finally rested on him. "What?"

"It's just comforting to hear you say that," Lionel said, shaking off the ache in his chest. Beautiful, perfect, stunning Cole. The type to profess his undying love without blinking an eye yet to blush or cry at the slightest breeze ruffling his dark curls. Stupid Cole.

"What do you want to talk about?" Cole said. "I mean, if it's that important..."

"You're as worried as I am, then?"

"I'm probably more worried, honestly. But I'm also trying not to think about it. I trust you not to die." Lionel's mouth went dry. He'd try his damn hardest, that's for sure. But trust? He couldn't promise because it wasn't in his power to control whether he lived or died. There would be too many variables, too many possible tragedies, too many bullets in the air.

"I...trust you, too. I think," Lionel said.

"Positivity, Lion," Cole said, a tiny smile twisting his lips up. "It's important in these situations."

"Right, but what I have to say—"

"Can wait until after, when we're both alive and uninjured, have plenty of time, and wouldn't be risking being overheard by invaders with guns."

Lionel clenched his jaw. He was right, of course. But that didn't mean Lionel was ok with this. He had something he needed to say. He wanted to do it in different circumstances, but what can you do? The universe does what it wants to you, and sometimes you just have to bear it.

He hated that he was about to ask it because he knew that it didn't make sense. "Promise we'll talk after, ok?"

Promise. Promise.

It seemed unreasonable. How could Lionel ask him to do such a thing? It wasn't like Cole could pinky swear and suddenly he'd be bullet-proof. And yet...

"I promise. After." And Lionel almost felt like Cole would be bulletproof, the way he said it. 

It was eerie. There was a beat of silence before the distant gunshot echoed from the hall in front of them. It was like the conflict had been polite enough to give the two of them enough time to settle on an agreement before erupting.

Cole met Lionel's eyes for a brief moment. The two of them were suspended. When Cole looked away, Lionel felt some sort of connection between them break. It wasn't forever, Lionel wanted to believe. If they both survived, it would return. They would find another moment alone together and that connection would ripple between them once more; Lionel would look into Cole's eyes and he would feel it in his heart, even in the air he breathed.

But he didn't know. He couldn't know. He could hope, but he couldn't know. Maybe one of them would die before Lionel ever got to feel that uninterrupted union again.

Maybe. But Lionel clung to Cole's promise, despite how unreasonable it was, as he placed his finger on the trigger. 

Only at that moment, the gunshot still ringing in his ears, did Lionel truly feel the effects of the blackout. It was suffocating, strangling him. It was like the sun was disappearing, and with nightfall, Lionel's bravery disintegrated. His hope flickered out without the due ceremony of a sunset. 

It was like the bizarre nightfall of a solar eclipse, unfair, tricking the mind into believing that the darkness is real and that the light's gone out when all along it's only hiding.