923 peered his eyes through the door, then entered.

His hands were bloodied and

beat and burnt by the flames, and a bit of the blood on his clothes weren't his. He
was trembling ever so slightly. He didn't even know he could do that.

He almost fell apart when he saw her. Ignoring the horn, now on her head, the only
thing he saw was an injured, bloody Revierre, whose heartbeat was slowing down and
who he wanted so badly to be safe. If only tormenting the man who killed her would
bring her back to her consciousness.

He sat beside her, on the ground, and couldn't bother to even look at her injured,
mangled body.

923 took a deep breath and pushed himself towards the wall, pulling his hair with
those painful hands. "What am I even doing?? It's only been three days since I met
her. This isn't normal." He whispered to himself, mind going asway all over the
place.

He looked back up, only to see that the heartbeat monitor was.. slowing down even
more. Even faster. She was dying.

Uncertified and hyperventilating, he took a syringe of azithromycin and shakily

injected it into her wrist. It.. didn't work, of course, because her heart wasn't
beating.

He took a very large swallow. His hands couldn't do CPR. His hands were far too
injured. Any pressure would hurt like a bitch.

And, goddammit. She was dying, fast. He might as fucking well.

He took her chin into his hands, took a deep breath, and placed his lips on hers,
pinched her nose, and let the air flow into her lungs.

One. Two. Check.

One. Two. Check.

Pleasewakeuppleasewakeuppleasewakeup--

One. Two. Check.

Three. Four. Check.

Five--

She hummed-- something more of a sigh. He surfaced, hand still under her chin,
taking a deep breath and wiping away whatever the hell he thought there was on the
corner of his lips. She stirred ever so slightly, before her eyes opened.

"Wh.. what?" She muttered, blinking quickly, eyes not used to the brightness.

"I was-- you weren't-- uhh.." He swallowed his saliva, then let go of her, standing
beside her bed.

She flushed, sitting up slightly, leaning her body on the wall behind her. "Did..
uh. Did we--"

"CPR." He half-yelled, blinked, then sighed. "It was. Uh. CPR."

She smirked, then snickered. "Next time, make sure you make it last longer, so I
can be awake while you're on me." He huffed, cheeks turning slightly red. How could
she joke at a time like this?

She sighed, then sat up. "You're messed up, hun," she observed, looking at his
pathetic image. He smiled slightly. "Sit down here. I'll help you."

He did as he was told, and she stood off the bed and placed a hand under his chin
to hold him close. He leaned towards her touch, a familliar one. He didn't know
why.

"How come you're still so pretty with those scratches all over you?" She sighed,
eyes tender as she cleaned him up with a cotton pad. This was strange, their
romance. They didn't even quite remember each other, yet every movement was so
deliberate, like they've known each other for years. Like nothing could ever come
between them.

"Fuck," She'd mention, letting go of him. 923 blinked, confused. He tilted his head
to the side.

"What's.. wrong?"

Revie's eyes fluttered from him to the side. "It's just--" she sighed, then lifted
herself to get a little bit closer. "Who.. are you, really?"

923 swallowed. "... I--" He cleared his throat. He didn't know how to respond.
.. Azrael? ... "Az-- Azrael Nizhnik." He blinked. He didn't know what he was
saying. 923.. wasn't his name.. "or.. maybe Azrael Kim." He took a deep breath.

"Az?.." She'd let the name roll off her tongue so easily, like the familliarity
went on for more than a year. It piqued her memories, blinding her in white and
gold, but she couldn't remember him fully.

He didn't respond. She placed a hand on his cheek, and he leaned into her touch yet
again. No more seperation. Flashes of images, though not complete, were finally
coming through to him. Losing their memories seemed to have led them right back to
each other, like each other's other half, despite Zeus's splitting them apart in
the beginning of time, they still fit together, they still long for each other.

"I.. don't think I mind this, Az," she murmured, quiet, savoring this moment,
closing her eyes as she stored this warmth deep into her memories.

"I wouldn't mind it either," He replied, then sighed into what he knew was finally
what he actually wanted. Memories of purple hair and golden linen, filled with
danger and poison, filled his mind with hardly any haste, but he pushed those
memories away, back into the void of his mind. He didn't need to remember her
anymore.

Feather-like touches, their breathing mingled together-- there was serenity in this
chaotic mess of a daym-- a semblance of what could be.

Eyes closed, comfort in how they just fit together. Bright and dark, mixing
together to create a perfect, serene haven between everything that has ever
happened. So blurred and combined that absolutely nothing could come between them.
Despite everything, forgetting each other, Uxbridge, Isabelle, Azrael's death and
923's rebirth, the gods who came in their way, despite it all, it was still them.

And, god, the word "them" never felt so satisfying.

The both of them wished this moment would last forever, from the skies back down to
the centre of a burning inferno, they wished it would just be them, finally
together, finally finished with their search for their other half. Finally
embracing each other in warmth no other could give them.

And when the memories came to a halt, and the two could no longer find serenity in
a world that hated them, the only comfort they could ever find was through each
other, when they closed their eyes and met each other halfway through that bridge,
and they wished that they'd never need to let go of each other again, to freeze
into that saltwater lake, their hands fused.

They didn't know what could be better but to be in each other's arms, nothing but a
haven in this damned world, despite hell breaking lose, they protected each other.
Soon they would lay in a bed, wrapped in a warm embrace, tangled legs and arms
cradling each other ever so honestly, their hearts beating in a synchronized
pattern. Meant to be.