A/N: This one fucking hurt me and I definitely cried writing it, so I hope it gives you all the emotions you've been needing. You guys seriously make writing so fun. Thank you for your support.
Stakeouts were never particularly Azriel's thing. Of course, he had the patience when he needed to, but he didn't like to sit still for that long alone with his thoughts. He very much liked to be busy and keep his mind occupied and present. Which was why he untied the rope in his hand for what was probably the thousandth time, the coarse fibers shredding at his hands by this point. Cassian eyed him warily from his periphery, but Azriel intentionally kept his eyes and attention forward.
He didn't have the words he needed and couldn't seem to conjure them up either. Everything just felt so... fucked. He didn't know how to feel normal again, because normal no longer existed. He didn't know how to talk to Cassian anymore, which was something he had never anticipated. Every conversation between them now felt stiff. The two of them had finally snapped under the pressure, the weight of it all finally crashing down as they hit a burn out point.
It was like Azriel was physically present, but mentally had been gone for a while. Cassian didn't know how to approach him or ask if he was okay. Azriel's shoulders were so tense that sometimes he'd shake from the strain of his muscles. He had nightmares most nights, screaming in his sleep. Cassian hadn't told him and was honestly unsure if he knew.
He said her name a lot in his sleep, too, which made Cassian flinch every time. No one knew how to process any of it. How do you move on from losing everything when you have nothing to go back to? Nothing to start fresh for?
It was some kind of emotional limbo, the two of them trapped somewhere between alive and dead, sane and lost. Azriel toed that line a bit more fiercely than Cassian dared. Cass had enough keeping him occupied with the constant cleaning and re-wrapping of the wounds in his back where his wings once were. Az had helped him change the bandages a few times, but Cassian eventually stopped letting him help, saying he could manage just fine on his own. Azriel hadn't pushed, knowing that Cassian needed something- anything- that felt normal. Him bandaging his own wounds and refusing healers was pretty typical behavior for him. At least he'd done a good enough job for Azriel to not have to worry.
So right now, the two of them huddled behind a line of thick green foliage. Azriel had found a small enough hole to not be noticed, but to still have a clear line of view to where Maeve's soldiers patrolled. They were on day two of their stakeout and Azriel had yet to find a fault in their coverage. There were so many of them who never seemed to need rest. Azriel had broken Callie out of Maeve's dungeons once, and he'd find a way to do it again. If he could just figure this out.
He pulled the rope even harder through his palm as he re-tied it, making the skin there raw and angry. The pain centered him, made his head clearer. Even if Cassian did look ready to step in every time he noticed. One look from Azriel always seemed to change his mind and encourage him to mind his own business.
Maeve's army had somehow grown even still. The place was fucking swarming with collared creatures and the air was thick with the smell of death. The trees had already begun to lose their color as Maeve continued to drain Prythian of its magic. As if they needed another reason to feel bleak and depressed.
"What if she's not there?" Cassian mused. Azriel ignored him, keeping his eyes focused on the one guard in particular who seemed to be the leader. He was massive and covered in ornate armor that protected his chest from the exact place Azriel wanted to sink his dagger.
A twig snapped behind them and Azriel was on immediate high alert, remaining crouched as he silently twisted to look behind him. Azriel couldn't see anything, and for the millionth time, he called out to his shadows, but none came. Maybe none would ever come again. Perhaps he'd become so much of a shell that they'd decided to claim a new master, or just escape their old one.
The noise came again, the distinct crunch of a heavy boot in the woods. Cassian caught Azriel's gaze, pointing to their left flank where Azriel's side was entirely exposed. Cassian lifted his brows to silently communicate that that was where the nose had come from. Azriel gave a short nod, scanning the trees for any sign of movement.
Another came from the entire opposite side, and Cassian's eyes widened, looking at Azriel with visceral panic in his hazel eyes. They were fucking surrounded. Somehow, they'd known they were there and had come to ambush them. The realization set in heavy, and for a moment Azriel wondered if it was even worth the fight to survive. The two Illyrians were mere shadows of the warriors they were before now.
The air directly in front of them rippled slightly, and before their eyes could even register it, two men stood before them nonchalantly. Azriel's stomach lurched, and his hands found the ground in an attempt to steady himself. He felt like he was spinning, blinking harshly to try and focus his eyes. He'd really lost his mind. Because in front of him was his dead brother and his arch enemy, who he'd assumed was dead, too. Together. And quickly drawing a lot of attention to themselves.
Apparently seeing no more reason to remain hidden, a circle of guards stepped towards them on all sides. There had to be at least 20 from the way they managed to cover and close every gap. Azriel heaved, his empty stomach producing nothing but stomach acid that stung the back of his throat.
Cassian stood, looking around at the soldiers as his chest heavily rose and fell. He ran a hand back through his matted hair and swore under his breath, reluctantly reaching for his sword as if it mattered at this point.
"Thought I smelled something bleeding," one soldier gruffed as he gestured to the bandages on Cassian's back which had bled through, the wounds reopening at some point during their travel. Rhysand looked pale as he stumbled a step back as he took in Cassian's lack of wings. Rhysand understood what it meant to be a clipped Illyrian. He'd never again be taken seriously as a warrior. He'd essentially been castrated as a fighter.
"What... wha-" Rhysand mumbled like he couldn't even wrap his mind around what he was seeing. Azriel gagged again, his body refusing his hallucinations. He squeezed his eyes shut and begged his body to stop.
"What a great prize to present to the Queen," one of the guards behind Rhysand snickered. "Maybe she'll even let us into her bed for this one."
"I know you," a guard said from the side. Their heads jerked to him as he sneered. "Pretty boy High Lord." All of the other guards stiffened, looking to each other as if that were something they hadn't expected. As if any of them could have. A prize, for sure. The exact people Maeve was seeking to eradicate.
"Cass," Rhys tried again, but his words failed him. His brows were knitted, and he looked in so much pain that for a second Eris was concerned. He patted Rhysand's shoulder, attempting to recenter him. Rhysand was acting like they weren't surrounded on all sides by enemies.
"Rhys," Eris hissed, urging the High Lord to do something- anything- to get them out of this mess. Rhys blinked, shaking his head slightly as though he'd lost himself for a moment. "Some of that woo-woo magic shit might be nice right now." The guards began to close in, smirking like a predator stalking prey. They swung their swords like they couldn't be bothered, like they knew they had already won.
Growling, Rhysand conjured a rumbling, vicious darkness, pouring it into their mouths and eyes and noses as they choked and gagged, desperate for air he was never going to give them. Azriel saw a look on Rhysand's face he'd only ever seen in the First War when he'd realized his father had split him up from his brothers to get them all killed.
Rage. No, something far beyond rage. It boiled in his blood and echoed off of him in dense tendrils of clouded black smoke. Rhysand's eyes darkened, turning entirely black before all at once, he snapped the necks of twenty guards and Azriel looked around as he watched their bodies collapse unceremoniously.
"Yeah, real big show there, buddy, but you just gave the rest of them a ground rumbling sign that you are here. We are not ready for this fight. We need to get the fuck out of here," Eris growled, shoving at Rhysand's chest. Rhys blinked, his eyes returning to normal as he seemed to remember where he was. He grabbed Azriel's shoulder and Cassian's hand, Eris resting a hand at the top of his back and gritted his teeth as he strained his power, winnowing them away to safety.
They all collapsed onto the damp grass, breathing in the humid heat that seemed to radiate all around them. It was fucking suffocating. Azriel could barely open his eyes, squinting as he blinked away tears.
Rhysand stood, holding a hand down to help Azriel to his feet. When Azriel looked up at him, making no move to take the High Lord's hand, his eyes were bloodshot and angry. He looked like an avenging angel as he looked up at Rhysand through his now slightly too-long black hair.
"Why," Azriel said with a softness that hadn't been expected, "the fuck are you alive?" Rhysand blinked, astonished. Azriel's words had stunned him. He'd been expecting a tearful reunion of jokes at each other's expense, but he hadn't expected them to be angry he was alive.
"Come inside, get some food and a shower. I'll explain everything." Rhys said gently, offering his hand again. Before Rhys could even register his movement, Azriel was on his feet, roughly shoving against Rhysand's chest with both of his hands. Unprepared for the attack, Rhysand stumbled a few feet back and nearly landed flat on his ass.
"Oh, you'll explain everything?" Azriel spit, hurling his words with a force they weren't sure they'd ever heard out of him.
"Yes," Rhysand said hesitantly. "Az, I'm sorry-"
"I don't want your fucking apologies," Azriel growled, shoving him again. This time, Rhysand anticipated the blow and mostly stood strong. Cassian sat in the grass wide eyed as he watched his brothers fight.
"I had to find a way to save Feyre, to save everyone," Rhysand pleaded, eyes welling and shame registering on his beautifully carved features. Shame and guilt.
"So, it was about your mate?" Azriel scoffed.
"Yes," Rhysand barked. "In my position you would have done the same-"
Azriel lunged again, pushing him even harder his time.
"What about my mate, Rhys? She just didn't matter to you? I would have thrown myself in the fire a million times to save Feyre. So don't pin that bullshit on me," There were angry tears streaming down Azriel's cheeks as he yelled.
"She wanted to help," Rhys said, finally crashing under the weight, not even meeting Azriel's eyes anymore, which just made Azriel even more angry. Azriel laughed a scary, humorless laugh, any trace of humanity in him gone. No, this was the shadowsinger. This was darkness.
"I trusted you," Azriel said, his voice shaking slightly. "You were my brother. I would have suffered whatever consequences there were to protect you, to protect your family. Because they were my family, too. You're telling me my family sat in this little fucking house and sent my girl to die? Alone?" It wasn't lost on Rhysand that Azriel wasn't the least bit angry on his own behalf, no he was raging for what they'd done to the only person who'd ever made him feel known.
"It was the only way," Rhysand said, his hands hanging limp by his sides.
"The only way for what? For you to fucking live? Just had to sacrifice the person I love most. No big deal, right? As long as you get what you need at the end of the day," Azriel accused, roughly running his hands through his hair, gripping it in his fists where it met his scalp.
"It wasn't like that," Rhysand pleaded. "Please come inside and let us take care of you."
"What the fuck did you do to her?" Azriel asked, utter betrayal in his eyes. "To her mind, what the fuck did you do?" He was falling apart at the seams, becoming irreparable. It was too much and too heavy.
"Maeve would have read her mind, searched her memories," Rhysand tried to explain. "I warned her of the risks, and she told me to do it."
"To save you," Azriel's lip curled. "She could have died. She has been blaming herself for all of your deaths for months and you just didn't give a shit? You thought she'd just be okay after that? That once you were reunited all would be well?"
"To save all of us," Rhysand said, exasperated.
"Except her," Azriel shook his head. "Rhys, you knew her. You knew how much she loved all of us, how deeply that emotion ran. You fucking knew what this would do to her." He was hiccupping through sobs and choking on his words.
"If we'd seen any other way I never would have-"
"So, this was a fucking little plan you created? Didn't see fit to ask me what I thought about you sending my girl to die?" Azriel held so many emotions on his face that it felt like a kick in the gut as Rhysand looked at him. He was finally understanding, finally feeling the impact of the choices he'd made on the people he loved.
Rhysand wrapped his hand around Azriel's forearm, but he snatched it away and backed up a step.
"Don't fucking touch me, you bastard," Azriel said, angrily laughing through his tears. "Take me back." It was a demand. Azriel's nostrils were flared with how hard he was trying to keep his cool. Rhysand looked at him reproachfully, fingers twitching like he'd almost reached for him again.
"I can't-"
"Take me back," Azriel sobbed, gripping Rhysand's shirt tightly in his fists. His anger had morphed into grief. "You have to take me back. I need her. If you ever loved me at all, you'll take me back and give me a chance to save her."
"Az," Rhys said softly.
Azriel shook his head, sniffing as he squeezed his eyes shut.
"Please," he begged again, bloodshot eyes staring into his brother's haunted violet eyes.
"Azriel?" Came a sweet voice from the door of the house and Azriel's entire body stiffened. He let go of Rhysand's shirt, turning around to see. Callie stood in the doorway, her beautiful features twisting with emotion. Azriel released an involuntary sob, dropping to his knees as he cried. She bolted over to him, wrapping her body around his in any way she could.
Azriel fisted the back of her shirt and buried his face in her neck as wept, hot tears slicking the skin of Callie's neck. He breathed in the familiar smell of her and gripped her tighter and closer to his body to keep her from feeling how hard he was shaking.
"I-I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so fucking sorry. I'm sorry," he kept repeating in whispered against her neck, his voice thick with tears. Callie just held him, tears of her own spilling just as quickly. The two of them had never felt relief so tangible in their entire lives, than to be back in each other's arms. So, they just cried and held on to each other.