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Percy is cold and still in Vex’ahlia’s arms. Too cold, too still. She clutches onto him, as if by her will alone he might move, might blink, might breathe. Nobody has said anything since her anguished wail, as if they too are frozen and dead. The only sounds are the groaning metal of the factory settling and the cracking of the flames already burning down to embers.
Maybe she’s engulfed in Ripley’s fear gas. Maybe Pike didn’t save her, and this is some horrible vision her mind has conjured to torture her.
Vex wishes she could believe that. It would be better than the truth.
Everything feels too real, and she knows better than to believe in comforting lies.
It’s Vax who breaks his stillness first, who takes two steps towards her. Vex’s first instinct is to flinch away, to scream at him, to refuse his attempts to comfort. She looks to her twin in his deathly Goddess’ raiment (the one he traded for her useless life) and thinks what has she loved that she does not spoil?
She lets Vax place his hand on her shoulder. She knows that Vax needs to comfort her, as much as she doesn’t want his comfort right now.
“Vex’ahlia,” he says, and his voice is that even measure of patient and tender that she’s heard from him more often of late. “Sister. We should bring him home.”
Vex clutches Percy’s body closer. Bringing him back to Whitestone means that this will all be real. They’ll have to tell Cassandra and Yennen and everyone… Gods, Whitestone. He wanted to build a home there– and he’d asked her to be a part of this place that was so precious to him.
Vax, bless him, doesn’t press her. But he is looking at her, eyes wide and sad and full of unshed tears. They all are looking at her– Keyleth is weeping silently, but they all have that same look in her eyes. Like they know. Like they can see into her deepest heart and they pity her.
Her fingers wind through the fabric of Percy’s shirt, wrinkling it with their passage. He’d taken such care of it after their first night together, making sure to lay it over the back of a chair with his coat before coming back to kiss her so deeply and so well she should have known he was in love with her–
Vex’s fingers still in the fabric, suddenly aware of something missing.
“Where’s his coat?” she asks, barely a whisper, her voice breaking.
“What?” Vax asks.
“His coat, his fucking coat , he’s not wearing it– where is it?!” Vex shrieks, loud enough that everyone takes a step back and that feels good or at least feels right because her fury is coming out of her as arrows from a tight strung bow and they should all stay away. “ Where is his coat, goddamnit?! ”
“We’ll find it,” Pike says, after a moment. “Grog?”
They head off into the darkness of the factory. Vex stays where she is, cradling Percy– Percy’s body. Come back to me, come back, come back . But there is no Matron waiting to make a deal for his life, and she’s fairly sure no goddess who would want to trade Vex’ahlia’s withered soul for his anyways.
Vax and Keyleth don’t approach, seeming to sense that Vex would lash out at them for the attempt. They stand in silence, holding hands, leaning into each other. Vex isn’t even sure her brother is conscious of doing it. She can’t even summon it in herself to be glad for them, empty as she feels.
She should have stayed in bed yesterday. Should have stolen those few extra minutes, instead of hiding away from herself. So what if Keyleth called her a hypocrite for it? And Vax sure talks a big game about being the protective brother, but she knew deep down that he would accept things.
The tears stop– not because she no longer feels like crying, but because her body has no water left to give.
At last the sound of footfalls on the metalwork, as Pike and Grog return. “Found it!” Pike says, panting a little bit. She’s holding a balled up bunch of blue fabric that nonetheless still drags a little on the ground. She slows as she approaches Vex and hands it over.
Vex lets go of Percy to take his coat. It’s scorched and torn by what must have been an explosion– likely the same one they heard outside, that spurred them to run even faster into the nightmare. Percy would grumble about needing to find a tailor to get it repaired.
Vex wraps it around her shoulders like a blanket, feeling the weight of the wool and lining. It smells of smoke and sulfur, burning acrid at her nose, but underneath that it smells strongly of him. The scent of his sweat and cologne and gunmetal, and even the burning scent is a little bit Percy.
She feels more tears rising in the back of her throat, summoned from some unknown dimension of grief. Vex leans down and presses her forehead to Percy’s. She doesn’t quite dare press her lips to his.
The ruined factory creaks around them, a dire warning of its instability. For a wild second Vex wonders what would happen if she stayed in this spot where Percy died.
“We should go,” Pike says. “Before this whole place collapses.”
“Kiki?” Vax asks. “Can you–?”
Keyleth nods. Now that they’ve been to Glintshore, returning is simple.
Grog reaches out his hands for Percy’s body. “I’ve got him,” he says, as he pulls Percy away from Vex. For a second she clutches futilely at him, before assenting.
Vex stumbles her way out of the factory, unable to recall any of the details– only that Vax is holding her up and she has curled her fingers deep into the fabric of Percy’s coat and wrapped it around her like armor.