So The Grand Total Of Spelling Errors Was 26 - Tumblr Posts

The Blood We Shed, It Never Dries

His hand cradled the back of his brother's head, gentle and firm and there. He whispered a curse, a prayer, a promise of love. His voice wavered, broke. He began to cry, soft at first and then louder, louder, until he was crying and sobbing and holding his brother like the most precious of treasures, the most holy of all holy things. Cradling him as of he were a child, something sacred, something to be cherished. Should be be cherished? Did he deserve it, after all this time?

His brother certainly seemed to think so, whispering how he was so sorry, he was so, so scared, and how much relief he had felt to see him alive. Alive, alive, alive.

He didn't feel alive. He felt hollow, he felt small. He was small, in his brother's arms. Something fell out of his limp hands as his brother sank to the dusty, bloody ground with him in his grasp. He didn't look at it, it didn't seem to matter. Was he alive? Did he deserve to be?

He blinked slowly, hearing his brother's sobbing through water. His head hurt. He was thirsty. He wanted to cry, but he was too tired. He wanted to wrap his arms around his brother, this man, this simple, loving, amazing man who was larger than life, who was his rock, his shelter, his home. But his arms were too small, made of lead. He couldn't even lift his head.

Was his breath getting shorter? Or was he just tired? Was it evening into sleep, or was he dying? He couldn't tell, and that made him panic. His breath sped. Good, not dying.

But once it sped, it didn't slow. His brother gave him a worried look, then a soft call of his name. A firmer hug. His breath continued to speed, gasping like a fish out of water. Maybe he was dying. Maybe this was it. Why when he realized it, was there such a profound fear? Did his friends feel this fear when they died? His eyesight was blurry- ah, there were the tears he'd been too tired to cry.

" ... 'M dyin'." He slurred quietly, chest shuddering- was it with final breaths, or sobs?

"Oh, honey. You're not dying." His brother said, with a teary laugh. "Not dying at all. You had me convinced you were going to, but you didn't. You're safe and sound right here."

He looked to the side, and could catch a glimpse of blood and a limb and someone's face, a bandanna, a boomerang, an eye - before his face was gently directed away and back to his brother's chest, holding him there, caging protecting him.

"Who-?" He croaked, bringing hands up to grasp at his brother, his rock, his lifeline. His parent.

"No one you know. Not one of us. Not Tune, not me. Not Tune, not anyone you need to worry yourself with." Names. Oh, those existed. Kokiri didn't bother with names, they only had them when Link was there.

He wasn't Kokiri anymore. And he wasn't Link.

"... T'ne's 's safe?" Mask slurred, blinking slowly, grasping a little less tight at the Captain's shirt. One hand lost its grip and fell, before Mask sluggishly tried to get it back up and latched onto the Captain again.

"He's safe." His brother easy lied, keeping this child, his child, his brother, his son, in the sweet and blissful dark. Mask didn't need to see the Sailor yet. No one did. No one would see this field but Mask and Captain Link, Mask made sure of that.

"Good." Mask whispered, eyes fluttering. He was so, so sleepy. For once, he didn't snap at the Captain for holding him so dearly. He was tired. It felt nice. Tune was safe. Where was he?

"T'ne?? Tune?" Mask whispered, mouth full of cotton, as he tried calling for his brother. Wars gave him a sad look, with both joy and grief in his eyes. Who was the joy for, and more importantly, who was the grief for? "Shhhh, dear. He won't answer right now."

Mask shuddered. There was something the Captain wasn't telling him, wasn't there. He knew that look, that crinkle in his brow. He could see early gray hairs at his right temple, and he reached to touch. His hand was covered in blood. Was it his own???

Mask startled and pulled his hand back, leaving a very small, bloody handprint on the Captain's face. He was about to whisper an apology, but Captain Link cut him off. "Shhh, shh. Shh. It's not yours, it's not mine. I've got you. How about you take a nap, hmm? I'll get you all washed up and you can sleep?"

Sleep sounded phenomenal. But there was a part of the Captain missing, it was clear. Maybe multiple parts. At least a single visible one.

"... Sc'rf?" Mask fingered the edge of Captain Link's collar, leaving blood there. "You wouldn't want to see it now. All dirty. I'll get it cleaned."

"Mom?" Mask whispered, sniffling. "Wh'r's T'ne?" He wanted his brother. Tune's hands were warm and his hair smelled like salt and his eyes were sea green. Captain's were cold, too big, gripping tight, as if afraid Mask would disappear. Tune would know what to say.

"Don't worry, honey. Just sleep, okay? Just take a nap. We can worry about it later." Treating it as if it were another bloody spot on his tunic. Mask wanted to ask more, wanted to cry, to call out for Tune again... but his eyes closed. "L've you Mom." He whispered quietly, not noticing the way The Captain looked over the destruction before him. "I love you too, Mask. Get some sleep."

The Captain laid his son, his brother, his kid down on the dusty ground and moved to his other one. The one that wasn't moving, and wouldn't. Only sixteen. A giant scarf draped over him, like a burial shroud. Warriors held a limp hand, the only part of his other kid he could bear to look at.

"I'm so, so sorry, Tune. So sorry. I love you. Mask loves you, and he's sorry. He won't know how you died. Only I will. And I'm sorry for that. But he doesn't need to kill himself to attempt to make it right. I can't lose both of you. Losing you is hell enough. I love you." And he kissed the place where Tune's forehead was supposed to be, covered by bloody cloth.

Link went back to his currently sleeping child, hands curled up, only nine, unaware of the grief and destruction around him. Link stepped on the cursed, bloody, wooden mask as he went by, cracking it clean in two and then picking up his child. It wasn't Mask's fault. It was his namesake's.

He didn't hear the god scream in pain from it's vessel being broken. Mask curled up tighter in Link's arms and started to whine, covering his ears. He could hear. Link helped cover them.

Then he carried him home.

fin.