I’ll Always Be There For You

Scar tissue folded over her left brow, running from her forehead and down her neck. Dark pupils caught glows of the luminous blue that shone from the interior of her hood. Fretful, concerned glances darted from Sayane and Azag to the nearby workers. A prosthetic machina hand rose from beneath her cloak and pulled her covering closer to her face.

Neither Sayane or Azag could speak yet.

“Great Guardian. Songstress. Forgive me,” she muttered in shame.

“...Why are you apologizing?” Azag finally vocalized.

The hume doctor seemed perplexed, and hesitated to form an answer.

“I… I merely assumed you didn’t mean to look upon me or come to my station. No one else has.”

Her lips moved just like Sayane’s. Both hands, even the manufactured one, had four fingers and a thumb. Even though her skin was so dark it seemed almost blue, she was human. Seeing her had caused something unrefined to become shaken loose in Sayane’s spirit, and now she was doing everything she could to save herself from bursting into weeping.

Sayane hadn’t realized it, but being the only hume had caused another layer of isolation and loneliness to quietly build in her heart over these last few months. Seeing people that looked like her had become something she’d subconsciously said farewell to, and now, she was confronted with a person that, even though they looked so very different from her, looked just like her. And it was sending her emotions collapsing into near hysteria.

But they were there for Azag. She could not have a breakdown at this moment. So she subtly pinched down onto the soft skin between her ribs and hips and recentered herself in the current moment.

“They… they said you were available, and Azag needs to see a doctor. W-would you be able to help him?” Sayane said as her throat continued to lock.

The woman fretfully looked at them both as though expecting a prank.

“Me?” she asked.

“...Yes,” Azag said.

The faintest hint of an elated smile appeared in the healthy skin on the right side of her face, but she contained its spread to keep her professional demeanor.

“I’d be honored,” she replied with a bow.

Dozens of shocked faces had locked on the three of them, and Sayane could feel the whirlwinds of emotions moving through the room. Azag glanced over his shoulder briefly, also sensing the unwanted attention.

“I, I do not wish to do this examination in front of others, though. Do you have a private terminal?”

The doctor extended their mechanical arm in the direction of the hall’s distant edge and began to lead them away from the prying eyes. Sayane followed Azag and the doctor, stealing one final confirmational view behind her to see that nearly the entire hall was now watching them.

Makeshift panels were staged like barrier walls. Former propaganda banners now hung like curtains that provided privacy. Quiet humming machines sent diagnostic alerts from beside waiting beds.

The doctor led them in then waited for them both to sit on the large stone bench.

“Wh-what can I do fo-for you?” she asked.

Azag almost chuckled.

“You may relax, first of all. I am the one that is supposed to be terrified.”

The woman smirked as her metal fingers fidgeted with her robe. Her good eye found Sayane and their gaze lingered on one another.

“You haven’t seen many humes since arriving here, have you, Songstress?” she asked.

Sayane shook her head.

“You’re the first,” Sayane replied.

Her response was something between a laugh and a scoff.

“I’m sorry for that,” she replied as she looked away and once again pulled her hood close to her face.

Azag tilted his head then inhaled and undid his mask. It lowered, revealing his face, and the doctor almost betrayed a gasp.

“If you are nervous to show your face to us two, you needn’t be,” he said.

Being able to see his wounds in pure light was unsettling, even for Sayane. He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever beheld, but she could not deny the shock in his torn, flayed, and patched face. Parts of his eyelids were gone, so that his eyes could never fully close. His top lip was almost entirely made of exposed muscle, just like the area beneath his cheekbones. Bony smoothness rose from the scars above his brow, turning into the bent, chalky horn-like bones that jutted out in an uneven crown.

The doctor’s gaze turned to a frown.

“I had hoped it was a rumor. The empire…” she said.

Azag nodded and began to remove his tunic.

“All of me. They wanted to understand my kind’s gifts, so they cut me open and skinned me to get a better understanding. I escaped, but not before they’d done… this.”

She quietly nodded and her hume hand absentmindedly reached for her machina hand.

“Forgive me, but did they also hurt you?” Sayane asked.

“The lottery of birth may have placed me in the empire, but I never let their cruelty become my way. I tried to help those who had been forgotten or cast aside. For that, they did this to me.”

Her focus was on her hand the entire time she spoke. Polished, simple fingers rose and touched the burned lumps of skin along her jaw, and she smiled to Sayane.

“You’re as beautiful as I remember.”

Sayane’s brows raised in curiosity.

“I was in the alley that day. Helping the forsaken ones. You sang to one of them. We heeded the Great Guardian’s offer and fled. I enrolled as a medic not long after, trying to do what I could. But none came to my terminal. I didn’t know if it was because of my appearance or my past.”

It was fascinating to know that they had been so close to one another on the day Sayane and Echo snuck into the capital. In the midst of the chaos and caution, Sayane hadn’t noticed her. In many ways, she was glad she hadn’t.

“Well, it didn’t stop us. Please, help Azag,” Sayane said.

As she spoke, Azag removed his covering. Once more, she could fully see the brutal simplicity of his back ports that were unevenly drilled into his own flesh. Even the doctor seemed overwhelmed by the physical horror she was observing. Azag’s hand trembled as he reached for Sayane’s, and she moved to be close to him.

“I… I do not like this,” he whispered in a vulnerable tone she’d never heard.

Suddenly her eyes were burning again.

“I know, darling. I know. But you’re being so brave. I’m so proud of you,” Sayane whispered as she gently held his face.

He laid down onto his side, and the doctor stepped forward.

Machines stood beside them in patient mocking. Tools that were meant for help snuck secret traumas back into his body as they sat on work trays. Smooth bedding beneath him reminded him of the operation table. Everything began to turn white.

No tools were used. At first, she simply moved around them in a slow cadence, eyeing details that were noted in an unseen notepad.

“Can you tell me what sort of pain you experience most?” she asked.

“Every kind,” Azag sighed.

Memories of the agony from his touch bit at Sayane’s back as she continued to hold his hand.

“I try to cycle my control toxin through my mask, so that I can trick myself into feeling okay,” he said as he pointed to the ports and glowing hoses.

He let out a near silent mewl when she got closer.

“And your bracing? Do you have trouble moving?”

Inquisitive eyes moved an inch nearer to his body and Sayane felt him seize.

“I… I…”

His breathing shifted. It was so subtle, anyone beyond Sayane might have missed it. But in the months of constant proximity to him, she had learned the cadence and rattle of his steady inhales and exhales. But they had shortened, instead turning to swift, unfulfilling pulls that seemed to claw for the air beyond his mask. Spasms in his knee rose.

“I…”

Words fell away.

The doctor lingered to study the mutilation in his back.

“Legs never worked…” Azag sputtered.

Dampness collected between his fingers and Sayane felt his palm turn cold. By now the breaths were shortened gasps.

“This body was… a curse… always a curse…” he said in a voice that sounded detached from the being currently laying in the room.

Sayane could not hide her concern anymore. The doctor noticed it as well, and made her way back to his sight line.

“I begged them to stop. I begged them to let me die. But they… they didn’t… so… so I killed every one of them…”

Every visible ligament rose like unslackened rope. Muscles expanded in rage until each individual fiber pushed into the thin layer of what remained from his subskin.

“Azag?” Sayane whispered.

His hand violently pulled from hers.

“It’s every night. Every night!” he snarled.

Then he finally saw the doctor again, and an unshackled roar tore from his throat as his fangs extended and he burst upwards with a frenetic lunge.

Sayane couldn’t even react before his enormous hand had risen from near hers and was now swinging towards the doctor, who cowered in terror with a scream.

“AZAG!!” Sayane cried out.

Momentum stopped instantly and Azag froze with his open hand inches from the doctor’s shielded throat.

Reality rushed back to his mind and he choked for clarity and air as his hand slowly lowered between gasping sobs.

“I’m sorry. I am so very sorry,” he said as he slumped forward to cover his face.

Sayane rushed to him and knelt in front of his head without touching him.

“Azag, Azag it’s okay. You’re okay. Nothing happened. You’re not in the lab anymore. You’re safe. You’re here with me. I’m here with you. I’m here with you.”

Her own voice was trembling as she fought to control her breakdown from building. It was too much. All of it was feeling like too much.

“I’m here with you,” she repeated.

Their touch reconnected, and his heavy head rested on her shoulder. His tears were milky and warm, shining like silver as they ran from his face to her shoulder. Her arms were shaking and weak as they wrapped around his shoulders and softly pulled him close.

The doctor calmed and rubbed her own chest for comfort, then stood and fixed her hood.

“You are safe, Great Guardian. I am safe. You didn’t hurt me. And I won’t hurt you. And…”

His head raised. He and Sayane looked to the small woman, who forced a sincere, understanding smile.

“And the Silence can’t hurt us anymore.”

Outside, noises told them that no one had noticed the episode, and his secret was safe. There behind that curtain, Azag did his best to collect himself. All Sayane could do was be as still as the furniture and make herself some manner of an anchor for him as memory and present awareness fought for control of his mind.

They moved closer together. Fabric caught on the harsh edges of his bracing. Tiny ripping sounds broke the quiet reset, but Sayane didn’t care. Chests rose then dropped with methodical, intention repetition. Connection hung between palms that pressed against ribs. Lips parted.

Sayane began to sing to him.

It was as quiet as she could audibly vocalize. It was for him and only him.

“Annnnnd I’ll always be there. For you. For you.”

He was heavy in her arms. It was too much. Even for him.

“If you ever need me, you know where you can find me. I’ll never be anywhere other than right next to you.”

Golden light spun from the glowing bands around her wrist and throat. Nearly imperceptible ribbons of softness moved themselves around the two of them as Sayane fought to form her song.

“There’s so much that we still don’t know,

And still so much for us to see

But I know this much is true:

There’s no me without you,

And no you without me.

So if you ever need me, you know where you can find me.”

Cyan light painted her skin in surreal blue as his head lifted so that their eyes could meet. A small, makeshift smile was pushing through his strained frown. Sayane’s lips met his then their foreheads lowered against one another. Through it all, their hands stayed on one another’s backs. Mournful, slow tears dripped from her lashes and fell to his knees.

“I’ll never be anywhere other than right next to you.”

Existence almost paused, and Sayane wondered if she would fade. For the briefest moment, that didn’t sound terrible. She just hoped he’d fade with her.

But they remained.

Her eyes opened, and his lips found hers once more.

“I love you,” he mouthed.

Sayane nodded and wiped her eyes. Fear dissipated, and Azag slowly pushed himself up.

“I… uh… I don’t like doctors. I should have led with that,” he stuttered.

Sayane and the doctor let out laughs and the doctor shook her head.

“Understandable.”

Azag grimaced as he moved from laying to sitting. The doctor analyzed his movements as he went.

“Do you wish to continue? Or would you like to try another day?” she asked.

“Let’s keep going,” Azag inhaled.

Their visit lasted for another hour. Notes were taken for everything from treatment creams to new mask ideas and exoskeleton notes. Now that resources were fully available, they had options to fit him with a proper body support system. Color didn’t return to Sayane’s face, and each discussion about some horrific detail of his wounds sent more dread into her heart, but she decided to focus on the relief that he was finally getting help.

Once they had their list of recommended ointments and tonics, they departed the tent with a bow. Sayane lingered for a moment, and the doctor noticed.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

Sayane shook her head.

“What is your name?” Sayane asked.

“Ellox,” the doctor replied,

“I’m Sayane,” Sayane bowed.

Ellox grinned at the known detail, but bowed nonetheless.

“Can I… Can I touch you?” Sayane asked.

For months, Sayane had been the one being asked to be touched. But as she looked at this other Hume, something vulnerable and childlike was longing for embrace.

The doctor smiled in understanding and appreciation.

“That would be nice, actually,” Ellox replied.

Both women stepped towards one another, and Sayane found herself savoring every sensation of feeling akin to skin contact, human hair against her face, soft flesh from her breast pressing into her, and familiar pressure from hands. It was a feeling that had once been so simple and forgettable, but in that instant, a simple hug became a crucial farewell for Sayane. There were no guarantees she’d ever see another Hume, much less embrace one.

That night, Attis joined Sayane and Azag for dinner, where the family of small creatures cheered in elation. Attis, ever the social butterfly, responded as though reconnecting with long lost friends. His smile and laugh was so infectious, Sayane almost believed he had known them for years. But it was simply Attis being Attis.

The five petite creatures all conversed and smiled for hours, speaking if existing on the smaller side of life and sharing stories of their journey to Haven. Paws patted shoulders, hugs were abundant, and Attis’s kind tears once again made Sayane’s sight misty. Seeing them embrace the Hopeful Herald made her wonder if those touches were as sacred to them as her hug with the doctor was to her.

Ideas of connection lingered in her mind as the night turned to quiet, and she tried to formulate a new song for tomorrow. Her brief serenade to Azag had come easily, but everything came easily with him. Creativity seemed absolutely foreign as she tried to plan for her task that awaited her at dawn, and she accepted that she’d simply have to freestyle once again.

For now, she wanted to focus on the gentle beauty of the scene before her. Healing took many forms, and as she sat watching the joy of the little family and Attis, she knew that the warmth in her throat was its own manner of healing.

Azag sat quietly beside them the entire night, occasionally chiming in with a chuckle as he thoroughly reviewed his doctor notes and sketched out his own additions to the proposed exoskeleton updates. His hand never left hers.