Godfrey & Qrow

||Back in the past|| 

It had smelt like white pepper, bitter orange and coriander. The day the bells tolled twelve; it had been thirty three days since Godfrey had been given the chance to smell scents that reminded him of home. The King had warned him that the day the bells struck twelve, would be the day he would finally be brought forward to face the blade of the executioner. 

“Rose water? How strange, what an expense to be affording me.” 

Godfrey stood there, naked… he had gotten used to being naked, the only things that were new about the pale male were the fact that the bruises that had marked his skin had now turned an ugly shade of green perhaps like pine needles, he detected yellow – it reminded him of daisies. The male attendant a stranger dabbed at Godfrey’s skin, Godfrey wondered just for a moment if this human was appalled by the state that he was in, the fact the Holy Roman Emperor would afford him, a traitor, a spy such a luxury even though the rest of the political prisoners held within the palace walls would die smelling like vinegar, piss and whatever else they could still produce out of their mouths.

To add insult to injury, rather than being dressed in the rags he had gotten so accustomed to, Godfrey was put into fine silk, cotton even… his toes had almost forgotten what it was to be in shoes. Course, Godfrey would not comment on the fact that these shoes did not fit him whatsoever; he was grateful that he would be dressed when he finally ended up in some nameless ditch with the rest of the men and women who would be murdered for their beliefs today.

He held his hands out in front as the shackles that they had made specially for him, slipped on for the last time… the first time Godfrey had been put in them he had laughed with glee, why he had felt so light to be without his element… but now all he felt was this dread of knowing that he might as well be dying incomplete, broken. He was shoved towards the iron door, it’s metallic hinges scraping against the granite, it hurt his ears as he lilted towards the right, when they expected for him to go left… that was quickly corrected by the guard who punched him in the jaw, he toppled to the floor. 

“No breakfast?”

“Priest is here. You’ll eat after.”

“Lovely.” 

There would be no priest, just Gideon. Godfrey knew that but refused to cause anymore issues for his guard, wiping at his cheek and getting off the floor without assistance, though it took using the wall and three attempts before he was back on his feet. Godfrey straightened himself to his full height as he was lead through the damp flame lit corridors of the castle’s dungeons; really the only sounds that he could hear that he bothered to focus in on were the rats that were full of garbage, the howling of tortured inmates and the dripping of water; supposedly the castle’s dungeons has been built around a small cavernous area that constantly produced dripping sounds. Godfrey nearly hit his head on the basement ceiling as he was shoved into another cell… this one was different from the rest, as it had a view of the outside… the sky. 

“Good morning Godfrey.” 

“Gideon, how nice to see you.” 

“Damn, they weren’t kidding. The skeleton thing.”

“Pleased by the sight?” Godfrey sneered 

“Me? Pleased? You’re still breathing. So no.”

“How nice to know you still give a shit.” Godfrey sat down. This was their routine. 

“Me? Give a shit? Godfrey, you humour me. No.” 

“Aren’t I going to see your face one last time? Or are you too busy trying to fix your face from your last encounter with my husband?” 

Gideon kicked the chair out from underneath him and his head whipped back before crashing against the floor. Gideon’s laughter was the only thing Godfrey could hear as he sat back up and stared directly at the sky… it was grey, so perhaps it would rain as he died? Gideon grabbed Godfrey’s attention back by kicking the fallen man in the chest, causing the fallen to topple over onto his stomach and cough as though he only had one lung. Gideon took pity on Godfrey after a while, and forced the dark haired male back upright and on the chair  – really just a stool with three limbs that had been kicked in far too many times, it used to have four limbs but Gideon had broken that off one time to beat Godfrey with it; said limb now sat forgotten to the wayside in the corner.

“Good to see you’re as fuck ugly as ever.” 

The two males stared at each other, eye to eye. Godfrey was relying on his sass to piss Gideon the fuck off; which to give the brunette credit… it was certainly working – although how Gideon would get retaliation? Godfrey was less sure.

Suddenly, they were not two males at the bottom of some Spanish castle acting as prisoner and interrogator. They were no longer there but instead in a dimly lit hallway, Godfrey was not alone; rather he was with being protected by his futures who were acutely aware that Gideon cared not for their continued existence; only the pain he could cause to Qrow. Godfrey, could barely squeal when they were shoved into the portal, when they fell atop each other and groaned at their bruised limbs from the impact of the fall. 

“Qrow needs to stop treating us like we’re luggage.” 

Stasia hissed as she rolled onto her side and rubbed her chest, Lucas had changed their positions so that Godfrey would land atop the frenchmen, Stasia looked down at her chest, it was not just mere pain that had hit her but rather a very large machete in the chest. She coughed, frozen. Lucas had noticed, as had Godfrey who both began to bleed exactly where Stasia bled… though neither had been hit by the blade. There was another presence, the strongest of the trio, Lucas got up depositing Godfrey with Stasia; the Frenchman shrugged his jacket off and tossed it on the two before summoning his weapons, they knew from experience that Gideon never worked alone - well hadn’t worked alone since becoming friends with Vincent, Lucas’ murderer in the 1920s. 

“What do I do?” 

Godfrey panicked, he had no idea if he should put his hands on Stasia’s chest, had no idea if he should remove the massive blade that impaled her chest, he looked to Lucas who was holding his scissors in a defensive position… to shield the both of them. Stasia in the meanwhile looked up at the sky, where three gulls seemed to be flying in a circle, she smiled.

“Just lie next to me Godfrey, panicking will make it harder for Lucas to concentrate. He meant this blade for you.”

“Gideon will pay for this.”

“Qrow will see to it.” 

Lucas murmured as he threw one of his scissors into the distance, they heard what sounded like someone losing their eye before the bloodied scissors were back in his hand. Godfrey did as Stasia instructed and laid down next to his future life; whose eyes were now closed. 

“Are we going to die like this?” Stasia whispered

“No, it’s ok. We’ll be ok. I’m sure the others know.” 

“Stasia, I know you’re dying but you need to get up and help me. It’s Vincent and Carmen.” 

Lucas who could just see them, the man who killed him and his female companion, Lucas could commend them for the strategy to wait to see where Qrow would send them and then finish them off whilst Qrow was busy slaying the dangerous one. He could hear Stasia struggle to stand up, he could feel the pain of the blade in his own chest and he was doing his best to stay conscious… they had to protect Godfrey for he was the primary target.

“We should portal out of here.” Godfrey was still on the floor, unable to move.

“Stasia won’t survive the process. We need to fight until one of our lives. Or Qrow, comes to get us.” 

Godfrey lifted his right arm up and traced his markings, they trembled with a furious beat; Qrow was working up a sweat fighting his worst nightmare and here all Godfrey could do was lie on grass… on some random cliff bleeding to death with his future lives. He coughed and rolled onto his side, the blood was dark… was he already dead?

“I can take three shots before I’m down Lucas.”

“I can take five. Stay behind me, as long as Godfrey survives. We’ll make it.” 

“Where the fuck are Jillian and Eric.” Stasia cursed.

Gideon spat the blood and whatever else was there out of his mouth, the apartment which had been so thoughtfully put together by Godfrey and Qrow just weeks ago now looked like it had seen a nuclear missile. He heaved, leaning against his own blade, Qrow had made quick work of his axes, cleavers and one of his guns… now he was down to his personal favourite. A blade he has stolen from Godfrey himself, melted down and shaped into a sword. Standing up as straight as he could manage despite having a very shattered right leg, the silver-haired male smiled sinisterly.

“Dead or still got that fight in you?”

Though he could no longer run, he made some effort to stumble, sway and swing at Qrow who like any other warrior on the battle field rolled away and got back on his feet – and whilst it would have been nice to have said that Qrow was coping, he was in fact dealing with a dislocated shoulder and a partially destroyed left collarbone (the cleaver had done it’s job of leaving Qrow with a sizeable chunk of his shoulder missing) this was how they fought… dirty, destructive and sometimes if one was watching… maybe even like lovers.

“You know, it could have been you and me. Not Godfrey and you.” 

Gideon swayed, barely managing to turn as his leg buckled once more and he was forced to readjust his weight. 

Vincent stood over Lucas, it felt almost like the past all over again. Lucas remembered this position well as Vincent like his dear pal Pickering talked on and on about how he loved this chance to redo his greatest achievement… and perhaps this would have been a perfect reenactment – except Vincent, like most villains of the past did not and had not ever been informed about the existence of Jillian; until of course three holes formed in Vincent’s skull. Jillian having shot out both eyes and then in-between just to make sure the man was dead. A shrill scream left Carmen who ran towards her now dead for a second time husband. 

“Well that’s over with.” Stasia wheezed.

The sound of an aircraft got louder and louder and for once the trio who were quite literally about to drop dead; were able to take a huge sigh of relief as one particularly pissed off miniature assassin and a very loud viking – who was shouting over the engine noise; made their appearance. 

“We MISSED the FIGHT?”

“Well yes and no, yes for Vincent. No because Carmen still has to be dealt with.” 

“I WILL DO that. YOU LOT on PLANE.” 

Carmen reached for Vincent’s firearm and took aim at Eric, who despite being the eldest life (just before Godfrey) was not bleeding, nor was Jillian for that matter. Eric stretched his arms and then like Thor descending swung his battle-axe into Carmen who let off two rounds, both were deflected by the blade as they began their own tango on the edge of the cliff. Jillian who was satisfied that Vincent was dead, helped Lucas who was smiling like a maniac; onto the helicopter - Jillian had taken one look at Stasia’s chest and mentioned something about Eviax and surgery. 

“It’ll leave a scar.”

“Who cares about a scar. I’m just glad it didn’t kill me.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want to have to explain that to DeVian.” 

“Can we just go?”

“What about…”

“Eric will be fine.” 

They lifted up and away, Jillian moving her equipment away so that she could tend to Godfrey who hadn’t stopped in his persistent hacking up of blood and whatever else… what the fuck was happening with Gideon and Qrow for Godfrey to have such a reaction? Taking off her jumper, Jillian placed her bare skin on Godfrey. Lucas and Stasia both snapped their attention towards Jillian who was doing what Wisteria would have done, if the red head was here and not in some Victorian manor playing Princess.

“Stay with us Godfrey. I’ll take the pain away but you need to keep breathing.” 

"Sao Paulo!” Stasia screamed at the pilot, who immediately changed the course of their flight trajectory. 

Godfrey rasped, like a fish out of water… despite Jillian’s efforts… he knew it was not enough and he started to realise that just like when his head had been removed from his body, he was starting to see shapes… but no colours… were had the colours gone? 

"London is closer ma'am." The pilot radioed into the headset that Stasia had managed to jam on her head.

"Then go to London dipshit. We're dying, and your boss doesn't pay you to waste our time. Especially when one of us is critical." 

"No need to use that tone." Jillian sighed.

Both Lucas and Jillian were now tag teaming to keep Godfrey alive as Stasia argued with the pilot over location, whilst also keeping DeVian informed, the impromptu Death Ancient had been informed rather unfortunately that her wife was in danger because when she had been in a board room meeting with human officials regarding the recent destruction of the city of Berlin to 'unknown' forces; DeVian had started bleeding from her chest. She had told everyone to get out and had immediately gotten in contact with the rest of the lives that happened to be associated with her wife.

It felt like a Hollywood movie, when Godfrey and company had touched down at the Law Technologies Industries headquarters in London, all the lives - including Jillian who insisted she was absolutely fine and that her binder had absorbed all the blood. They were all rushed into the medical area in the basement, by now Godfrey was on a ventilator and his pulse as erratic as a hummingbird. Stasia and Lucas for their part were actually entirely fine, though the surgeons had a heart attack at the sight of Stasia's chest x-ray. 

"It's not even that close."

"0.000001. THAT'S HOW CLOSE IT COULD HAVE SEVERED YOUR AORTA." 

Was what the surgeon had said when Stasia had just mentioned ripping the blade out of her chest, course the surgeon was utterly human and therefore didn't understand the whole 'claimant healing thing.' Over in the critical care corner of the basement, Godfrey looked about as dead as ten day old corpse, the only notable difference was that he was still breathing - barely, and was calling? mumbling? for someone... presumably Qrow. 

"Did you bring Crow?" Stasia asked Jillian

The chibi assassin, who had been stripped bare and was now inspecting the new scar between her breasts with furious intent, reached into her black leather bag and threw a sizeable soft toy out and into the air, caught midair by Amarjeet who had made her presence known as well after she too was informed that Lucas had, had an altercation with Vincent - she was glad to know he was dead, not so glad that Vincent had been seconds away from repeating history and blowing Lucas' brains out again. 

"Mon Cherie. I am fine. It is Godfrey who is not fine."

Amarjeet tucked the soft toy into Godfrey's flailing arms. The metal Aikekunai was no longer in this place however and was slowly falling back into the past. 

||Young Godfrey||

Your body’s in the room but you’re not really there…

-Numb Little Bug, Em Beihold- 

||PRESENT||

He felt like he was floating, despite being on solid land. Could he even wiggle his toes anymore? What was he supposed to call the lights he thought he could see; did fluorescence even have a describable colour? What was happening to him? Why could he feel someone touching him, someone’s? He let out a breath, at least he could still feel the air entering and exiting; but he supposed the movement was so minute that no one would or could notice. He had never been a fan of the machines humans had made to show that someone was still alive… what was it? As long as he had a pulse. Ha, his heart had been weak and getting weaker for centuries. What did it matter now? Not like it would continue to effectively pump blood. BLOOD. 

I don’t want to die.

No one had said it, not even Jillian whose fanatic whispers could just be heard over the beeping of the machine; it had come from within, he was losing his grip on reality. He had to blink, move… do anything to suggest he was still hanging on; still fighting to be there in the now with Qrow. 

I don’t want to die.

Please 

We have to live

We cannot leave 

Not without saying goodbye. 

It had been hell, the fact that he couldn’t speak in his first life, to assure Qrow that things would be alright. 

And I’d save everyday like a treasure

-Time In a Bottle, Rob Lane, Jim Croce ft. Julia Church-

||SIXTY MINUTES BEFORE DEATH||

“I suppose you won’t be needing this.” 

Gideon held Godfrey’s tongue in his hand triumphantly, how someone could be so gleeful over the mutilation of another made Godfrey feel even worse than he already did, he continued to throw up copious amounts of blood. They shouldn’t have cleaned him… shouldn’t have done anything to pretty him up for his death. He was barely able to open his mouth to inhale a gulp of fresh air before something, like a gag. A sponge? It stung of sea salt and vinegar, it filled his lungs with acid, and he tried with all his might to spit it out; to no avail as the black cloth was placed around his eyes, lowering over his nose and then finally his clamped mouth. He could sense the padlock before they had even picked it up, and the wailing that came… another one a claimant like him had suffered this exact fate. 

“Take him down the scenic path, not like he’ll see anything.” Gideon mused 

If only Godfrey could have spoken, for he would have said something along the lines of ‘you won’t get away with this’, the guards who were used to Gideon being slightly mad did not take Godfrey down the scenic route – for there was not one that existed, and instead just took Godfrey like every claimant before him down the same set of stairs he had first climbed down initially when he was being hauled off to his cell. Occasionally Godfrey could feel the sensation from both men that carried/dragged his body towards his final presumed destination that they did not think he was deserving of this fate; how peculiar, for one would think that guards would like their masters to be absolute in their thought that if a man is sentenced to die then he deserves to die. Though the gag made it hard for him to smile, he did anyway. Now, in this case one would think that would be it, that would be the end or rather this would be the end to his tale; however, one could not have fathomed or known what chaos was partaking upstairs… at that these very moments. 

Tonic kicked the limp guard’s body, the gown around him swished and he inwardly groaned; why the hell was he the one stuck in a fucking dress. He lifted his head as Qrow finished off another three guards – all of whom would fall into the moat and drown. To his right, Ears shivered he was not entirely trained nor equipped to be holding a polearm and the fact that he was trembling made it even more obvious that he was not a guard, nor a knight. Tonic was no fair maiden – the bonnet and ruff made it easier to trick the eyes, but one close inspection of Tonic’s face and one would be able to tell immediately that the face powder was too much, the lips were too red, and he looked like a botched jester on a three-day bender. 

“Come on, towards the gate.”

“He hasn’t given us the signal though.” Ears teeth refused to stop clattering 

“He’s off to kill the Holy Roman Emperor. We need to find Godfrey and besides if the intel is right, we have at least forty minutes before his head is removed.” 

Ears didn’t want to argue with Tonic any more than he wanted to be in this position as they started to make their way towards the last of the nobles who were here to witness the first of many executions – Godfrey was schedule to die last. 

Rather be the hunter than the prey

And you’re standing on the edge face up 

-Natural, Imagine Dragons-

||INSIDE THE THRONE ROOM||

“You must not pay your guards enough, to make it this easy.” 

Trembling behind the velvet and silk lined throne, around the puddles of blood and the scent of death peeked a pair of cloudy grey eyes; it had long since been rumoured that the Holy Roman Emperor’s habit of heavy drinking of somewhat tainted mercurial wine and late reading of less than solicitous material had led to the man being somewhat blind if not entirely afflicted by double vision; in any case he had not foreseen that Qrow would find him like this, with his closest members of his court celebrating the soon to be execution of the traitor that they had known by the cover named of Michele {a.k.a Godfrey} the man practically pissed himself as Qrow moved a step closer only to take another stab at one of the guards who tried to get up; Qrow wanted silence and blood. 

“Where are you keeping him?”

“Who?” 

Even though he was terrified to death, his words still slurred. He was intoxicated. He tried to get up but his grip was far from strong and so he remained hidden behind the throne unable to do much except wait for his death he supposed. Perhaps, the emperor thought that he could appease his would-be assassin; he started to think up all sorts of things, like land, title, power anything! If only to stave off his inevitable demise. He wondered almost selfishly where his friend was; the one who wore a jester outfit who could do wonderful things with the click of his hands, or the blink of his eyes… who could take the emperor and his esteemed guests off to paradise. He was brought back to the situation at hand when this unnamed murderer began tossing the bodies of the now deceased nobles into the fireplace, the scent of melting human flesh made the emperor wish he had not had so much to eat during his morning meal… his feast of oysters and suckling pig no longer sat still in his stomach and he was forced to clap his hands over his mouth and to breathe into the surface of the rosemary throne that merely minutes ago he was sitting on comfortably being fed all manner of sweet treats by his wives and daughters. They had not suffered when they had died, all of them and their throats slit until their blood sprayed upon the emperor; but he had gotten so used to the gore that he could barely even smell their perfume now mixed in with the iron tang of human blood. 

“Fuck this!” 

Sick of being stuck in this stupid dress – one that Qrow had picked at random for Tonic to wear, the male tore at the fabric until finally his legs were somewhat freed. He tossed the heeled slippers away and reached up to where Ears was semi dangling off the stone wall; it had been too easy sneaking away from the festivities and now they were trying to shimmy their way into the guard tower so they could pin point where exactly the entrance to the dungeons were, it hadn’t been inside – Qrow had seen to that, seeing as he had massacred anyone or thing with a pulse, there were death claimants inside idly keeping the appearance up that everything was fine whilst also clearing away the corpses and tidying up any signs of disturbance. 

“See anything?” Ears asked, his back turned away from Tonic as they took turns to use the single eyed telescope. 

“There!” 

Ears gave Tonic a look of astonishment as the male stripped clean of the dress – how he had managed to become entirely nude within the last minute or so was something that Ears clearly didn’t need to know, quickly switching attire with the unconscious guard who Ears had promptly kicked in the head when he was trying to ascend the tower, Tonic without so much as looking at his mortal companion dove from the window towards the direction of a trio of individuals, one of whom looked a little like Godfrey though Ears couldn’t tell from the blindfold and the gag… and now he was alone. 

“What do I do?!”

“START A FIRE. GET QROW.”

Ears blinked, Tonic was gone, and he looked around, what the hell was he supposed to start a fire with? He bit his lip and decided perhaps it would be better to find a way out of the tower, not including the way they gotten in and perhaps then it would be clear, picking up the torn fabrics of the dress and the corset that Tonic had wenched in half, Ears decided he would now play the role of lost noble servant, if anything if he looked like he knew where he was going well enough; then perhaps he could secure them an escape route. 

So light me up, my little projector 

And eat me up like Hannibal Lecter

-Projector, Set It Off- 

||SUNROOM||

Godfrey had barely looked at the spread that had been laid out in front of him, instead focusing on the bag of pearls that had been handed to him by a very sorry looking Ears. Godfrey had waved Ears away with a smile and he hoped that would do now in regard to forgiveness; if he had to be honest, the scent of the meat made him slightly ill, and he tried his best to wave the fumes away. The pearls were nice, smooth but not the quality he needed, he would have to go to the markets again and fight the old woman who did sell these pearls for the sake of being able to see oriental sort. He was so focused, so consumed by the sensation of pearls running through his hands that he barely even felt the kiss that Qrow had planted on his forehead, had only come back to the moment when he heard the scraping of a fork and his sizable plate becoming even more sizable… 

“Like a mountain of food… what was that tall one you wanted to climb called?” He glanced at his husband, why he was so clearly distracted; concerned Godfrey for just a moment. He continued as best he could. 

“The one near the orients… maybe you can get my pearls for me, and I can skip the old hag by the docks altogether…” 

Now that he was actually able to think straight, discounting the fact that he was still running his hands. Through the bag of pearls was that Qrow had not changed and was so smeared with his own blood… he looked towards the back where the entrance of the sunroom sat and waved for Ears, well Ears was not there but Carrot was – she’d have to do. 

“Go up to the tower… have them bring something down for Qrow to wear.” 

Carrot looked at Godfrey once then at Qrow before running off to do as she was told. He then put the pearls away and finally decided he would attempt to eat what was; he thought an impossible amount of food. Sometimes it made him want to grind his teeth whenever Qrow moved food from his plate; it reminded him of when they were kids, when Godfrey was still new to the Void and entirely unaware of the customs that the house of Death seemed to share (or at least appeared to share where Qrow was concerned/involved). 

“They were only doing their best; my condition is not something they can control.” 

He tried to seem firm, tried to glare but it was impossible to glare at Qrow without feeling like glaring would be the last thing you’d ever be able to do. Carrot re-entered the room and placed a tray of clean identical clothing near Qrow before scurrying away. As the door was about to close, Godfrey threw one of the pearls he had recently bartered over, towards Carrot who without a backwards glance caught it, she barely had a moment to register what it was but held it to her chest regardless; he liked to do that… pay the servants with little trinkets like that – he could always afford more pearls. Picking up his spoon, he tried to tackle the mound of potatoes first, they were covered in thyme, garlic, and butter and even though he was starving… he just didn’t have the energy or need to eat. He tried to sit a little taller when Qrow mentioned something about a walk. 

“I think that would be nice, the fresh air…” 

The mosaics needed changing, that could be his next project! What materials would he need? Would he need to go to Venice? He felt a nudge and then he was back in the sunroom with Qrow who was looking at his plate pointedly, course not that Godfrey had realised because he was forever stuck in his own thoughts – Qrow had decided to effectively take over and was feeding him without his realisation; hell he hadn’t even tasted the food he had just chewed and swallowed and now his plate was empty. 

“Did I eat all of that?” He reached for the napkin 

“You did.” 

“On my own or did you feed me?”

“What does it matter, you’ve lost weight and it’s my job to keep you alive.” 

“You forget you… have your own life…” 

It was a point of constant conflict, the whole ‘own life’ aspect of their relationship… as Godfrey was constantly in need of care, he had gotten mostly used to the relative peace of being coddled and moved about like a pawn on an empty chessboard, Qrow silently in the background making moves and plans to keep the board empty of all threats and possible annoyances; just so that Godfrey would be forced to sit in their little piece of mortal paradise and rest. He wiped his mouth, before placing it back on the emptied plates in the shape of a crane; he knew that Chef hated the habit, of him folding his napkins but it felt nice to leave something of his own… 

“Where did you want to go?”

Pills n potions, 

We’re overdosin’

I’m angry, but I still love you

-Pills N Potions, Nicki Minaj- 

||SEVERAL YEARS AGO||

“Come on, this way… not much further.” 

Gideon persisted in this quest, this foolish embarkment to change Qrow’s mind. He had to change Qrow’s mind, they were meant for each other and the only thing getting in his way was this sickly boy that barely managed to stay upright when the wind blew the wrong way. He had managed to get Godfrey away from Qrow, separated by the promise that they were going to the bathroom, when instead Gideon had transported them to a tall rocky cliff in the realm of Naiick. If Qrow really loved Godfrey, he’d come for him. Gideon just knew it.  For his part, the metal future-Aikekunai was doing his best to keep up, it wasn’t made easy by the rocks or the branches but if Gideon had something that he thought Godfrey would like to see… then why not? 

“Almost there.”

Gideon looked behind him as Godfrey bent over to take a few breaths, what the hell did Qrow see in him? Gideon wasn’t too sure and decided to wait for Godfrey to take a few breaths, not like he was going to survive the fall anyway. Once Godfrey had composed himself and was no longer wheezing Gideon stepped aside and allowed Godfrey to see the view, the clearing itself wasn’t so spectacular; nor was the view really but Godfrey didn’t want to say anything… after all Gideon had gone to all of this effort to take him to this new place, perhaps this was a new realm? Like the Void? But different? 

“Isn’t this lovely?”

“Yes of course.” 

It was a lie, but Godfrey really didn’t want to insult his new friend, he wished he had brought Crow and Qrow along… maybe Qrow was coming with Crow later? Gideon moved so that Godfrey would be given the space to explore the none-to-stable cliff, but course he didn’t know that, only Gideon knew, and he was making it seem like the earth beneath them was as hard and solid as any tree. Finally Godfrey ventured just far enough that Gideon knew that any step further would send him straight to his watery death. 

“GODFREY. FREEZE!”

He had been bending over to tie his shoelace and nearly toppled in the wrong direction when Qrow dispelled of the trees and what have you with his blades to get to Godfrey, there was no Crow alas, but it was nice to see Qrow. 

“You came! I knew you’d be coming to find us!” 

Godfrey stood up, proud with his knot work and wanted to head towards Qrow who felt like a stable anchor in the world, felt like a presence that would never leave him… just like the ones he occasionally heard in his head; like him but not quite. Qrow looked rather displeased by the sight and Godfrey wondered if it had anything to do with him… he hadn’t done anything wrong, and this new friend named Gideon hadn’t been rude or mean in any such way. He wanted to move, he wanted to be with Qrow but something in Qrow’s eyes told him to stay still and not to argue or make any moves. So he decided to sit down instead, his head was starting to spin, and he didn’t like that he was cold. Rubbing his arms, he watched as Qrow, weapons drawn turned his blades upon Gideon. Gideon for his part was smiling like a deranged cat, he took out his own weapon and took a small step in Godfrey’s direction. 

“You’ve got a choice, me or him.”

“Why would I have to choose?”

“Because I said so. Him or me.” 

Gideon wanted more than anything for Qrow to pick him, he’d push Godfrey into the water and the kid would drown, Qrow would see how weak he was and then – then he would only care for Gideon, care, and love the stronger of the two… Qrow was however entirely unconcerned with Gideon’s words and was instead trying to calculate mentally a way to get Godfrey back out of danger and perhaps… Gideon in the water. 

“Come on, pick me. I’m the one who’s better. Stronger. I won’t die.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Excuse me?”

“I’m cold.” Godfrey wheedled, not that Gideon heard that. 

“Godfrey, in a minute you are going to get up. Jump towards me. Into my arms.” 

Godfrey contemplated the words, it sounded like a command but was offered like a lifeline, like rope to take him back to shore. He nodded so softly that even Qrow had to have sworn he had missed it if he wasn’t staring so intently. Qrow opened up a pocket into the Void just in case he was calculations were off. Godfrey for his part was still entirely innocent and still totally unaware that his life was at risk, he got onto his knees first and then left leg before right he straightened and dusted himself off... there was a soft sound of earth crumbling but nothing so serious that Qrow wanted to hurry the kid up. 

Qrow mouthed the countdown as Godfrey, sure that he was able to make it into Qrow’s arms leapt… just as he thought he was going to crash into the dirt and hurt himself terribly, he was saved by Qrow as the sound of someone else landing in the water and the cliff face disintegrating caught him off guard. Qrow had barely managed to catch Godfrey and even then, only by his collar before sweeping him into a tight hug. Gideon in the meanwhile was suitably soaked the bone and pissed. He screamed up at the wind as the rocks plummeted into the water and he was forced to swim back to shore… Qrow had not needed to say anything to make his choice, he already knew in his heart of hearts that it would be Godfrey he would save. 

And I look the other way as they are kissing their hello’s

And I’m pretending not to see them 

-Tom’s Diner, AnneMayKantereit, Giant Rooks- 

||PRESENT||

It began with Godfrey, as the monitor finally let out once last indication of the mortal definition of life, he himself did not fade but it was if the world for a fraction grew dimmer as a man charged in, covered in sweat, and holding onto two still bodies, one of which was already beginning to fall away like petals on a rose, just like when the rain is two days late.  This man, as tall as he is, barely manages to lay them in each other’s arms these broken companions; one of whom gropes the air attempting to find the other only to be met with the freshly abandoned night gown of a body who once resided there.

The next is a sight to behold, as a tiny woman with a bandaged chest clutches at her heart and attempts one last time to kiss the lips of her lover as she topples off the bed into oblivion, their cries of pain are in earnest… they don’t know what to make of it. It’s heart wrenching for they were supposed to board a plane later that evening to begin the first of many treks around the world. They’ve got nothing left but an old battered soft toy whose missing it’s left eye. 

The third is different, for the pair are not sad nor angry but defeated, the male is laughing and waving his arms around as they dissolve into invisibility. The woman is hitting his chest and trying to grip onto him, hoping that she is enough… but like the others he fades; though his smile tells her that he is not going away in vain. 

Finally, it reaches the most recent who having watched her past lives begin to dissolve in front of her, like some cruel memory has nothing she can do as her chest begins to fall and hollow out; the blade topples and crashes to floor as she does nothing but cry. It’s silent… she doesn’t want to be heard. Like the whisper of a gale on a hot summer’s night she too is gone, the last thing she sees is the woman she loves being consoled by a man she never really liked but accepted because that woman; her happiness meant everything. 

Ordinarily their souls might have flown, gone to the Void or off to Elysian if that was the path they wanted to take; to begin again and yet that is not the case for a skeletal hand reaches into the air and those souls are forced into a sort of suspended space where they cannot quite move nor do anything to free themselves. This dark mass whose eyes are not on the people but rather on the souls who are scratching, clawing, and howling to escape. 

“Did you catch them?” 

It’s the only important question that can be asked, the only appropriate one as this the son of death approaches the centre of the room; it’s utter chaos otherwise but he does not seem to care these petty mortals and their false memories; it’s the next woman who enters the room who tries to make sense of it all, she is bouncing on her feet and barely bothers to touch the cloaked figure as she settles upon bringing back to life, a life cut too short by pain. 

“Wake up, wake up!” 

Minutely and probably only detectable to those connected and concerned another three bodies make their way in, though one body is attached to another who is despite the loud protests on their part too frail to get away. His red hair is grossly damaged, no doubt the fault of the dye or maybe his own amateur hands misreading and mixing the appropriate chemicals. Like how humans destroy dams built by beavers, this protesting man is thrown onto the bed beside the woman whose arms around that of a deceased man. 

I feel so light. 

Well fuck we die looking like we lived. You got a fucker of a sword inside you.

Remind me to wash your mouth out with soap.

Gross, I died wearing a binder fuck of bandages 

Why are we all such potty mouths? 

Haven’t heard that term being used in a long time 

Could you wake up please so we can come back?

I know life was hard and you were sick most of it, but we did not consent to being evaporated. Is that the right word?

SHUT up. Just let the man think. It’s his choice not ours. 

Streets not safe

But I never run away 

Even when I’m away 

-One Dance, Drake ft WizKid, Kyla- 

||CHILDHOOD||

He really was crying, his nose stung and it might have been broken as he approached Novevu, whose eyes were full of concern and something else; like glue being applied to be a broken frame, his nose was healed and the blood disappeared being reabsorbed back into his skin; though the same could not be said for his clothes which had taken the blunt of the blood that had escaped from his previously broken nose. A ruffle of his hair and a quick word to be a little more cautious about climbing back onto furniture before the Death Ancient departed and left Godfrey, Crow and Qrow alone. 

He hadn’t expected for the other boy to be so nice as to give him a shirt, which he quickly tried to change into; only to fall on his butt with the shirt on inside out; a sigh was let out and Godfrey felt even further embarrassed. He could put on his own clothes! He wasn’t trying to be what was the word the other kid had used? It had started with the letter ‘s’ that much Godfrey could be sure of. He was no longer there, from the arm hole that Godfrey had somehow put his head through… he was alone. 

“He was so stupid and…”

“He’s close to death Qrow.” 

“So is he a human?”

“No, he’s just like you.”

“How could someone so weak be like me?”

“He’s unwell. He has a disease.”

“You told me that our kind couldn’t get sick.”

“And that is normally true but the elements… don’t seem to agree with Godfrey. At least not the element he was born with. Nammay is too scared that the changing of elements will kill Godfrey and so we haven’t decided until now what to do.” 

Qrow kicked the rug, he hated being in this office, it was god awful how Novevu liked to arrange his rooms and the furniture, he partially wanted to destroy the current layout and redo it in a way that would look far better; he watched as his Ancient took out a bottle of amber liquid and poured himself a glass.

“Look he won’t be around for very long so just try to be his friend. He needs it.”