Alexander didn't know what to think, didn't know what to say.
They both continued on like nothing had happened—but something clearly did, something changed Alexander didn't know what. The monsters felt it as well, was this something to do with Hester? Or maybe a change in the wind? Or maybe one of the Gods? The last one was one of the monsters ideas Alexander dreaded to think of what a God would do if they saw both of them, out in the middle of the forest alone, it was either the start of a joke or a tragedy.

Alexander didn't know if he wanted either.

He still had no idea what it meant, still he continued swinging the axe violently at the persistent tree that almost mockingly, refused to fall. Ignoring the constant bickering of the monsters and the feeling of dread welling up inside of him.

Hester watched on a branch of a tree, he flew on a higher level then what Alexander could reach, almost the top before the tree became too defined and not having anywhere for Hester to put his hands. He watched with his feet dangling below him idly tracing the bark on the wide trunk he leaned against, the bark having scratch marks from wild life using it before him.

His hand was bandaged, poorly and clumsy done the wrapping coming undone a multitude of times, and it already began stain the cloth, soon they would have to leave just because of Hester, however Hester didn't mind all that much, he was getting worried now, with the sun sinking further down and silhouettes started to poke from the trees making him paranoid with Wilbur not being around. Hester then remembered that the whole reason he was in this situation—was because he was being hunted, letting paranoia grow and grow, Alexander seemed unbothered by the rapidly darkening sky or Hester's constantly surveying the surroundings more like prey than predator—but then, Alexander stopped and stared blankly at the tree he was cutting down.

"Mate, what's wrong?" Hester called before he could stop himself, Alexander stared up at him holding his axe limply "Do you hear that?" Almost confused, Hester focused all his attention to his ears, straining them only to hear the splitting silence that was there originally, unbroken and never ending.

". . .No. . ?" He said simply, confused at the remark, and worried about where it was going. "We need to move." Alexander said numbly strapping his axe across his back started to survey the sky walking clumsily backwards, almost worry seemed to flash across the young man's face. There was nothing really to see, other than the stars the trees made it almost impossible to see anything, Hester opened his wings and anxiously flew slightly past the threshold of the height and then he saw it.

"Oh shi-"

Hester cursed softly. It was a blizzard, and a big one at that, a line of clouds steadily approaching, black and grays filled the sky threateningly, Hester had never seen something as simple as weather look so intimidating, and dangerous before. "We can't stay out in the open." Alexander said harshly, beginning to run from the looming clouds. Hester jumped down, joining next to him. They both began running side by side, Hester wasn't paying all his attention on where he was going but after a moment he was sure they were going the opposite way to the house.

"Wait—Alexander,"

Hester said through breaths, when danger came, he flew not ran—now discovering he was not good at running.

"I think—we're going—the wrong way."

He said as Alexander took a right, again going in the wrong direction, annoyed now Hester just thought he was doing this to tick him off—however still ran next to him.

Hester thought that weather was something small originally, something that couldn't stop someone from doing something, it didn't matter what the sky looked like, it could be warm or cold, plagued with rain or snow but it didn't matter—life continued as always.

He underestimated it.

And that was his mistake.

When the snow came down, all hell seemingly broke loose. Hester fell immediately as ice poured from the sky, his hands tightened around himself in the snow, as he felt the wind hit his wings, cold, it was so cold. He shakily got to his feet and tried to run again, he couldn't see anything in front of him anymore and couldn't find Alexander, if he was shouting his name he would never know from the wind screaming in his ears seemingly dragging him—Hester at its mercy.

And then something grabbed him tightly, pulling him from his arm making Hester fall backwards hitting his head on the stone ground feeling his brain being knocked around in his skull, and just like that, everything was fine again, it was like someone threw freezing water at Hester, leaving him shaking and fatigued, but alive—which, with almost feeling the moment that meant the end, was beautiful.

Hester looked up dazed and confused, seeing Alexander unimpressed looking down at him. Blinking away spots, as his vision began to swim he found the cold in his body no longer biting anymore, surveying his surroundings, he realized why.

A shallow cave, circular in shape having a wide opening as the month of it, where the storm raged outside creating background noise, one that was far too loud to ever be considered white noise. It was big to hold about five people in it, the walls appear to be made with the same common light gray stone found everywhere in the mountains. Other than that Hester found nothing unique about it.

"Let's hope the weather changes soon."

Hester said putting on a half smile trying to not seem worried, it slipped when he saw Alexander, he was sitting on the stone floor holding his head in his hands.

"That might take a while."

He murmured softly.

Hester didn't reply.

He silently started a small fire in the center of the cave, from the little amount of wood that managed to stay dry in the eye of the storm, using a small knife and piece of flint that Alexander had in one of his pockets, Hester couldn't fathom, why or how Alexander kept in on him and knew they would need it—perhaps it was just from living here so long.

The fire lit the cave in an array of reds and oranges, the flames ricocheting off the walls and ceiling making the walls look like they were moving.
Hester held his hands out trying to maintain the little amount of warmth he had, Alexander stayed far away, either from the fire or from Hester, he would still freeze to death before either left the cave.

After everything was organized, they had packed food before they left and the heat was optimal, all they had to do now was wait until the storm came to pass.


It already felt like a lifetime, it was more accurately three hours, to Hester it made little difference the storm raged outside shaking the whole world and Hester along with it, or maybe that was Hester's inability to sit still, practically creating a trench in the stone floor from Hester pacing back and forth, every instinct he had telling him to fly then his brain took over and asked the question that made him stop every time, where? Alexander on the other hand didn't move from his spot on the floor, back leaning against the uneven wall, paying no heed to Hester or the excessive amount of noise he was making.

Even after saving his life two times today alone, Alexander refused to start any sort of conversation, leaving the two to wallow in each other's presents, and the unforgiving silence.

Hester remembers a time when the two could share hours of silence and it was comfortable, almost enjoyable but this was different there wasn't an edge—more of a spike, a silence that could easily be broken with so much as a glance in the wrong direction, it was futile, it was frustrating. That a relationship could be so easily disturbed by something.

Hester's had enough.

If Alexander wasn't going to talk then he would.

"Are they being loud?" Hester asked, already knowing the answer.

Alexander didn't say anything, Hester hadn't expected anything less, though maybe he was too quiet to hear the storm outside. A part of him, a cruel, ugly side of him wanted to ask again—poke the bear as it slept, throw water on the oil fire, take off the bandages on his injured hand and bite it off instead. But, he couldn't.

The relationship the two had was something small, breakable, fragile and new in so many ways, but still something Hester wasn't willing to give up on yet. For some reason

So he stayed silent, and waited.

And then.

"They are always loud," Alexander said quietly, wrapping his arms around himself, not making eye contact with the man.

"What are they saying?" Hester said knowing he was most certainly pushing his luck, he was expecting to get a glare or a dry remark on him being so thoughtless with his questions instead he was met with silence, silence of thinking—stringing words together trying to make a cohesive answer.

"They are conflicted at the moment." Alexander drawled tired then added.

"They will not stop fighting." He mumbleds out, reminding Hester of a small child who's confused at two friends arguing. Alexander then rests his head in his hands looking all the world like a lost child waiting to be noticed by someone walking past.

Hester sat down on the cold stone ground cross legged debating a question he knew he didn't want the answer to.

"W-what, are they conflicted about?"

He asked softly, maybe a little too quiet, Alexander gave no indication of hearing him or of giving an answer—then again, he never did to begin with.

After a few lifetimes Hester thought it must be, Alexander took a shutting breath in moving his head oh-so softly childlike eyes stared at him, still curled in on himself, simply said.

"You, mostly."

Hester wasn't as nearly as surprised as he thought he would be, he didn't know the limitations the voices had, what they could or couldn't say if there were any at all, but it was made painfully clear that they didn't enjoy Hester as company or anyone's for that matter.

"What are they saying about me?"

Hester not knowing what answer he wanted—or expected. Alexander looked up, having the face of someone looking at a monster on the other side of a cage and just accepting defeat.

"Just, stuff."

Alexander said dismissively, Hester had pushed his limitations—finding a clear exact line of where to stop. Hester just nodded his head wordlessly agreeing, like he somehow knew what he was going through—Gods like he understood what Alexander is going through.

He would never.

He could never.

It seemed to make little difference.

The sun had set and it was way into the night now even if the storm had stopped they wouldn't be able to leave, at least Hester thought so—he couldn't really see anything from the blizzard just a windy and staticky wall that occasionally blow snow inside the cave making Hester shivered and almost putting out the fire.

Hester fell into a uneasy and unpleasant sleep, his wings tightly curl around him, laying on his side facing the wall, waking multiple times to dreams and nightmares of Wilbur getting hurt or taken by a person with the same ash coloured wings he has—who knew, these were the struggles of a parent? Hester certainly didn't.

After the third time of walking up in a cold sweat he heard something—scratch that—someone.

"I'm not leaving him. No we're not going to—What?—Gods please take pity on me."

Alexander sighted whoever he was talking to. This was the closest Hester had ever been to sort of hearing the voices—Alexander actually speaking to them. A shot of adrenaline and excitement went over Hester all at once and over a dozen different questions went off in his head.

-Do they like me? Should I say something? Can they talk to me? What do they sound like?- And many more, he shifted slightly trying to hear more, letting his hair cover his eyes and move his wings away from his ears.

"I can hear you."

Alexander drawled immediately.

"How? I barely moved."

Hester said like a child telling a lie and immediately getting caught. He groaned sitting up straight. Alexander shrugged, then said. "Breathing changed." As if that somehow helped.

"That's pretty creepy, mate. . ." Hester said softly, a part of him joking, another being dead serious.

Letting his eyes adjust to the dark. Seeing Alexander's back turned to him leaning off of the rim of the cave, most likely keeping watch for any danger, then Hester noticed. "The storm's stopped." He said with unfiltered relief and excitement.

"Shut it already,"

"Huh?" Hester said quietly, equal parts confused and afraid.

"Nothing."

Alexander said dismissively with a wave of his prosthetic hand, it moved oddly unlike before. Hester would have asked, but that was most likely pushing the limit again, he triedly stood to his feet—and besides the monsters seem to be bothering him more then usual, maybe they became louder at night? Hester though cocking his head to the side questioning it, then giving up and stretching his wings.

They hit the walls, automatically folding back up as Hester stepped over the small remains of the fire, nothing was there other than the small pile of ash and logs that refused to burn. Inching closer to Alexander, the man seemed tired and stressed, Hester had ideas why, but like everything with Alexander it could have been something happening leagues under the sea and it would seem to make no difference on how it affected him or not.

Hester sat cross legged beside him, his feet poking from the rim of the cave making his feet tingle from the cold stream of wind, it was steady and calm nothing like the raging blizzard a few hours ago.

Exhaustion was a heavy burden Hester carried, but still he stayed awake—mostly from the stinging coming from his hand, loose bandages stained with dry blood still stubbornly ached from the evening event. Hester poked and prodded at the injury, then making things worse as the wrapping came completely off, the scar almost vengeful begins dripping anew burning a river of red on Hester's lap.

He moves quickly away from Alexander, the man seeming to have no interest in him or his bleeding hand. And Hester wanted to keep it that way, Gods only know what would happen if the voices saw him injured and cornered, I might as well just accept my fate and bleed out now—instead of some slow painful death they force Alexander to give instead.

He shifts away, back turned from the opening and Alexander, trying to apply pressure to the bleeding, and failing as he grimaces from the effort. Blood slipped through his fingers like sand, trying desperately to stay calm, which is also failing. His breathing quickening from the realization of just how much blood he is losing, and the horror leaving something thick in his throat as he feels something looking at him.

A prickly feeling spread across Hester making his hair stand up straight on his neck as he felt Alexander's eyes linger on him—the difference between predator and prey. Slowly Hester raised his head, still trying to stop the flow of blood, as Hester looks into the eyes of the last person he will ever see and—

He sees Alexander, staring up at him—just Alexander—no one else, Hester let out a small sigh of relief. Letting it wash over him, he wouldn't die painfully, yet.

Alexander crouched down next to him, reaching out a hand to look at Hester's wound, Hester turned away covering his hand more, determined to stay away from him.

"Oh I see you are trying to bleed to death."

Alexander replied dryly to Hester.

"I understand, you only have a kid waiting for you."

Alexander drawled, letting his words split into a million pieces with the silence that followed it, letting the idea hang in the air like a death omen, daring Hester to make it true. Alexander turns away looking at the opening of the cave seeming to debate about just leaving, Hester couldn't disagree with the idea.

"Hester move already,"

Alexander said unsympathetically tugging at his non injured arm towards the light that the moon created. Hester glared at the man, trying oh-so hard to seem scary, violent, dangerous, in that moment all that came out was a hiss of pain as he winced giving in and moving closer to the edge to let him finally take a look at the damage.

Digging his nails into the flesh of his palm, biting the inside of his mouth to stop a curse from slipping through, either to the Gods above or Alexander himself he had no idea where to put his anger as Alexander sat down next to him, already unwrapping the dirty bandages and replacing them with the freshly white colored ones instead. Maybe if the moon wasn't as bright, maybe if they weren't so close together, or maybe if Hester was so observant—he wouldn't have noticed the way Alexander looked, one moment he look calm, almost nonchalant about the circumstances he found himself in, then something shifted, a glint in his eyes came—one of something dark—something haunted and as cold as the storm that swept by earlier, it went away, quietly and quickly just like a blizzard.

The final knot was tied, and Hester couldn't help it anymore.

Alexander had saved him, putting not only himself in danger so many times, but even defining the voices.

All to help Hester.

And before Hester even knew what he was doing, before he could weigh out the consequences and reason. He wrapped his arms around Alexander and pulled him in a embrace, his wings wrapping around the two of them like a blanket, letting warmth seep through the two of them, the odd embrace was cold and tense, but still something.

"Just let me have it already."

Hester said muffled, wings cold, pulling closer trying to keep making some sort of heat for the two of them.

"Just, y-yell at me, so I can say sorry, already."

Alexander seemed confused at the remark, like some new idea he was turning over in his head. He opened his mouth—then closed it like he forgot how to breathe and was drowning on dry land.

"I don't want to though."

He said, it felt tensed and forced out of the short sentence and Hester's realizes just how similar they are, how both can lead and plan work hard and be determined—but he's still surprised at just how truly they are alike how neither are willing to back down never willing to show weakness both of them so clumsy and uncertain when it comes to emotions—especially their own.

"What do I do then? What can I do to have your trust again?"

He backed away letting his arms loosen and slip back to his side moving his face off of Alexander's shoulder and shifting away putting his wings tense and still.

"You don't forgive me"

Alexander said simply even as Hester flinched from the sting of hurt because it was true, he didn't forgive him.

"And I don't forgive you."

The silence might as well have had a tree fall on them, the cave collapse over them—it seemed to make little difference if the blizzard came back and swept Hester away, or a tsunami came crashing over him. The sting of hurt grew more and more with the quiet like a rope stretching tauter and tauter around Hester's neck.

Hester had never felt so alone.

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Art by chronic procrastinator on Tumblr
hypothetically speaking, if I possibly had twelve more chapters planned out, would you read them all? or like, get bored? moving on, I like this one a little lol I feel like both characters are poor communicators so putting them in a room together will always end sort of bittersweet but this is more sour than I was expecting lol (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)
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