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Epitaph of Anguish: Ravens Mate for Life

A.N. The final chapter of this series... Thank you to everyone for joining me on this journey.

_-_-_

It was all so overwhelming. The air felt too cool and too sharp. It cut into Dýo's porcelain like a barrage of invisible needles. The lights were too bright and too loud. Glaring and flickering and buzzing like swarms of angry wasps. Blissfully, the looming Doctor pulled the Mask closer, shielding Dýo from the light. Blocking off the biting, frigid air. "oh mon dieu... oh mon dieu... mon Dýo... " uttered the plague doctor. The thespian could barely hear him. His words were unintelligible. It would have been comparable to hearing words through water had the surgeon's quiet voice not felt like it was loud enough to ring in the Mask's hypothetical ears.

'Doc' was all Dýo could manage in response. the wordless, meaningless plea making the thespian feel choked. There was so much to be said. the Mask felt like it was bursting at the seams. Memories burned like a blaze swallowing the past like a white, marble city. Like a gold- dipped manor. Like a garden of roses. It burned and burned and yet refused to eat away at the fresh ache that made Dýo's ichor flow like water. Instead it charred everything to embers, leaving a perfect silhouette. Filling the Mask's mind with haunting shadows. At the center of it all, the Doctor stood steady. An immovable, un-flammable statue. The Mask wondered why there had any doubts that he'd always be there in the first place. He was the man the everybody-turned-nobody that was Dýo had wept over countless times. The one who had grieved in return. He was the lover. The loved. The rival. The enemy. The friend. The acquaintance. He was a monument in and of himself. A single constant in a shifting world. A steady stone that stood the test of time, somehow refusing to erode with the force of his own sheer stubbornness. Behold the seventh wonder of the world. A wingless angel that would probably only quit Dýo the day those Aphrodite-blessed hips of his lied.

"Shhh, sh... Rest now, alright? You are still-" there was the sound of something metal clattering to the floor. The Doctor's head snapped to the side to look at it and, immediately, the Mask's face was being pressed soundly to the professional's chest, a curse leaving the Plague Doctor's beak before an explosion loud enough to shake the walls rattled the room the two anomalies were in, the walls giving away to let in the caterwauling of blaring breach alarms. Dýo felt a wave of nausea as the surgeon's hold grew tighter. the thespian could hear screams. Thundering footsteps. Yelled demands. Gunshots and, soon, the unsteady clicking of hooves on tile as the Doctor went down the hall. In that instance. His grip on the mask had changed, allowing them a good view of the absolute carnage within the facility. Dýo felt a spike of jealousy. This was a breach of the ages! Purely perfect chaos! Pained and still hazy after having been dormant for...

Dormant for...

some length of time, the mask didn't really have the mental aptitude to properly appreciate the breach, nor could Dýo handle going down the internal rabbitholes of theorizing who on Earth had caused it at the moment. Instead everything was visceral and fleeting. Red lights and blood. Claws and teeth. Gunfire and explosions and flames licking at the more flammable portions of the facility. It was horrible. Exhilarating. Suffocating. Freeing. Violence. Justice. Wrapped in a pretty set of clear strings and made to dance, and dance, and dance in live performance. It was brilliant... and it quickly proved too much as Dýo's spinning head had them falling down and down and down... fast fading once again.

A harsh but necessary jostle snapped the thespian awake. There were no signs of the bleach. The air was cool. The seat the mask was set upon was soft. An engine purred gently. Sharp blue eyes stared intensely down at Dýo. They softened as the mask watched the looming Doctor for a while, a clawed thumb gently stroking their crest, lifting to carefully avoid spiderwebbing cracks. "Don't close your eyes again, amour," he said softly, desperately, "Please... please stay awake for me."