𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄 ➻ 𝐓𝐬𝐮'𝐭𝐞𝐲 ✔

[- chapter eighty two -]

drumroll please...!

After the cold air came the smell.

It hit Nate before he fully registered what he was seeing — metallic and stale, something wrong beneath it. Air that hadn't been cleaned. That hadn't been cared for. The kind of air that sits too long in a sealed room.

The lights flickered weakly. Nate knew it wasn't a cell, but a containment suite — once clinical, once sterile.

Now it looked like a storm had lived inside it.

Furniture overturned. One wall cracked where something heavy had struck it. Equipment ripped half from its mountings. Dried stains across the floor, dark against the pale surface.

Tsu'tey stepped forward first and he moved like a warrior entering enemy territory — cautious, ready — but that posture shattered the moment he saw her. Eleanor was against the far wall, she wasn't restrained. Just... left there.

Her back rested against the metal, one leg bent awkwardly where she had likely slid down and stayed. Her hair was tangled and dull, falling around her face in uneven strands. Bruises — old and new — marked her skin. There was a hollowness to her cheeks that hadn't been there before.

But she was breathing, and that was the first thing Nate locked onto.

Breathing.

But shallow.

Tsu'tey crossed the room in seconds. "Ma Eleanor," he said — not the fierce war-voice from moments ago, not the great warrior of the Omatikaya — just Tsu'tey.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, hands hovering before daring to touch. "Ma Eleanor," he repeated, softer.

Her eyes were now open and they shifted slowly toward him. Recognition came in pieces. At first? Confusion. Then disbelief. Then something fragile and shattering all at once.

Nate hadn't moved yet, he had stood near the doorway like his body had forgotten how, staring at her as if looking too long would make her disappear.

She looked smaller. Not physically — but in presence. Dimmed. Worse than he had ever seen her before.

Tsu'tey reached forward slowly, one hand coming to rest against her shoulder, feather-light. "I am here," he told her, voice breaking despite his control. "You are safe. He will never breath in your presence as long as I shall stand beside you."

Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.

Tsu'tey frowned — not impatient, just confused. He leaned closer instinctively. "It is me, Tsu'tey," he said quickly, as if she might not recognize him. "We have come. Nate is here. Charlie is alive, we have found him too."

Something flickered in her eyes, her throat worked.

Nothing.

Her shaking hand lifted, but she winced as her eyes began to well up at the effort it must've taken, given her weakened state. It came to rest against Tsu'tey's cheek, her pale skin from a lack of sunlight contrasted against his blue, her fingertips meagrely attempted to stroke against his skin, as if attempting to ground herself.

Their eyes connected in a way that the two sides of a bridge connect difference places, yet they meet anyway. It was tender, it was whole.

His own hand then wrapped itself around hers as he met her touch, it looked silly, really, the irony of the difference in size, but for Tsu'tey, he knew he'd love her no matter what form she took, for her soul was bound to his, he knew it had to be.

Nate finally moved, each step felt heavy, like he was walking through water. He stopped just beside Tsu'tey and sank down slowly, as if sudden movement might shatter her.

"Mom," he whispered.

The word broke something open, her gaze snapped to him fully this time.

Her other hand twitched, and Nate caught it immediately, cradling it between both of his.

It was cold. Too cold.

"It's okay," he rushed quietly, even though nothing about this was okay. "We're getting you out. We've got you."

Her fingers tightened weakly around his.

Her mouth moved again.

Still no sound.

Tsu'tey's expression shifted — concern deepening — but he didn't ask her to try again. He didn't demand speech. He didn't question it.

He simply adjusted. "It does not matter," he murmured gently, gingerly squeezing her hand within his. "Do not strain yourself."

He used his other hand as he brushed her hair back from her face with reverence, thumb lingering against her temple like he was grounding himself in the fact that she was real.

Nate swallowed hard, his chest aching in a way that felt almost unbearable. "I thought—" His voice faltered. "I thought he..."

He couldn't finish, but he didn't need to, he knew that the room spoke enough.

Tsu'tey's jaw tightened. For a heartbeat, the warrior returned — fury simmering just beneath the surface — but it was contained, folded inward. Not here. Not now.

Right now, she needed calm.

He shifted carefully, sliding one arm behind her shoulders with infinite caution, as if afraid she might fracture. "We are leaving," he said firmly, but softly. "Now."

She flinched at the large amount of contact — barely noticeable, but there. Tsu'tey froze immediately. "It is only me," he assured her, voice low. "Only me."

Her breathing steadied after a moment and he continued to lift her body, small in comparison to both him and Nate in their blue-skinned ones, into his arms to take her back to where she belonged.

"Let's go home." Nate offered, to which she managed a weak nod before allowing her head to loll weakly against Tsu'tey's strong chest as her body then became a dead weight of both exhaustion and endurance.