Lean on me

It’s the rain that wakes her up. Fat, warm droplets falling over her skin, running down her cheeks.

Slowly, Morgan pries her eyes open. Though she was clearly asleep moments prior, she feels insanely tired. She doubts her nap has been any restful. Then again, if she decided to sleep at the mercy of the weather, she doesn’t have anyone but herself to blame.

However, to her surprise, the first thing she sees isn’t the sky. It’s a human face, leaning above her. Purple eyes stare down at her, like precious jewels framed inside eye sockets. It’s rare to see both at the same time. Usually, that hair is always hiding at least one of them.

Morgan’s arms feel terribly heavy, but she forces herself to raise a hand anyways. There is no logical reason behind that gesture, no immediate benefits in acting this way. She merely thought that face beautiful. How could she not want to touch a star with her own hands?

Her fingers graze a cheek. It’s wet. It takes Morgan a few seconds to realize that the skies above her are crystal clear.

Ah.

It’s not raining. 

Mash is crying.

Morgan parts her hand from Mash’s face. That beautiful skin is stained red. Blood is sticking on Morgan’s fingers.

“Are you alright?” Morgan’s voice sounds alien to her own ears, hoarse as if she hadn’t spoken in years. A horrible feeling she cannot describe is pulsing through her chest. She has to make sure the knight is okay. She knows (she knows ) that Mash is really tough, but Morgan knows better than anyone that you only need to be unlucky once to lose everything.

Mash’s eyes widen. One of her hands comes up to cradle Morgan’s wrist. The other, she realizes dully, is set firmly behind Morgan’s head, supporting her. “I… I’m fine. I’m not the one who got hurt.”

That is good to hear. This does beg the question, however: whose blood is this?

She hears footsteps, then a figure crouches next to her. Morgan blinks. At, it’s her spouse. They’re preparing a spell. A healing spell, it appears.

Oh.

Morgan lifts her head up, then peers down at herself.

Oh, that makes more sense. That unpleasant feeling she could not name was not an emotion of any kind. It was merely pain.

“Apologies. I did not mean to upset any of you.”

Mash shakes her head. “It’s… it’s alright. I know you didn’t plan on that.” 

Her spouse doesn’t reply at all. They cast the healing spell, focusing with all their might. It’s an odd sensation, to feel her belly close upon itself, to witness her guts crawl back within her flesh and sew themselves back together. It’s only when her skin is smooth and closed again that they allow themself a sigh. “Take the rest of the day off, alright?” They smile at her, extending a hand to pat her cheek. “You did a good job. You don’t need to do anything more for today.”

Hm. It is quite unfortunate, but Morgan has to admit that she is simply not as strong as she was in life- tired as she is, she would only burden them all by staying on the team. So instead of arguing, Morgan nods. “Understood. I will be back tomorrow, then.”

Her spouse smiles at her, nods at Mash, then moves on- to check on the other servants, certainly. Morgan intends to sit up then, stagger her way back to her own room- but a strong arm slides under her knees, and Morgan suddenly finds herself lifted into the air.

“I can walk.” She tells Mash- Sir Kyrielight, she reminds herself. Fatigue is no excuse for disrespect. “You need not concern yourself with me.”

“I want to concern myself with you.”

This statement gives Morgan pause. Not just because it makes no sense- because it’s true, a simple fact meant from the bottom of the heart, and Morgan can not understand the reasoning behind that. Who would willingly burden themself with a witch?

Still, Morgan has to admit that accepting that help would be much more efficient than stumbling around on her own. So instead, what she says is: “Alright. This position is a bit uncomfortable, however. May I hold onto your neck?”

“Feel free.” And true to her words, Sir Kyrielight doesn’t even flinch as Morgan extends weak arms to hold onto her. Ah, this knight. Truly a human full of valor and virtues. Morgan is lucky the two of them got to stand on the same side again (again?)

(Yes, Morgan is aware that Sir Kyrielight, physically speaking, isn’t quite human; her magic circuits are too odd, too purposeful to be born rather than made. But she stands by humans, and considers herself human, so as far as Morgan is concerned, that makes her a human.)

“I am feeling a little tired. I might doze off again. My apologies.”

“I don’t mind.” How strange. It’s the second time Sir Kyrielight says something to that effect today, and this one isn’t a lie either. What an admirable and incomprehensible person. Morgan doesn’t even have anything left to give to anyone. “I can carry you for as long as you need, Morgan. And even a bit longer if you want me to. Just… let me support you, alright?”

When was the last time Morgan let anyone carry any weight on her behalf, she wonders? She finds that she genuinely cannot remember.

She won’t let it happen again, of course. Morgan has learned the hard way that if you want anything done, you can’t rely on anyone else- in this world, one has to learn how to do things by themself. But for now, letting herself be carried like precious treasure to be protected…

Morgan closes her eyes, Mash’s steps a lulling rhythm to her ears. For now, this is alright.