Chapter Text
Mojave sat down at the piano, tears still drying on their face. They thought they’d done this enough. They’d spent three years, three whole years spiraling after they lost Mirasol. Three years of drowning every thought of that kid with a glass of whiskey, or a well-timed song, or someone else’s body. They’d done the crying thing, they’d done the burning thing, they’d done the yelling thing and the screaming thing and the praying thing and- THEY’D DONE IT ALL! That was the point. They’d done it all. He was supposed to be done mourning now. Supposed to shove all those feelings away and move on with his life. Start a new family, be a new person. Move. On. Like how Mirasol would want.
But no matter how much he tried there was always something that reminded him of her. The soft breeze that whistled in through the open porch next to the piano brought with it memories of flying with Mirasol over the tops of spruce trees, dodging and weaving to avoid their carefully aimed snowballs. A faint squeak from Treble reminded Mojave of the one time Mirasol held up a tiny lizard in even tinier hands and asked, “Can we keep it?” with pleading eyes as the poor thing squeaked and squirmed in his hands, trying to get free. Even the very air here, the faint smell of cherry blossoms and sunflowers floating on the sunlight, reminded Mojave of Mirasol. Everything went back to them eventually.
Mojave sat for a moment and did something dangerous, something they hadn’t done in a very long time… they wondered what would’ve happened had they actually saved Mirasol.
◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢
Mirasol usually loved the way the sun set the mountains on fire as it disappeared behind the floating islands, under normal circumstances he would’ve forced Mojave to stop and watch the sunset with him for a while. Today though the only thing they could focus on was the echoing sound of a snap that had come from behind them as they were flying. She’d turned around and seen Jave’s face twist up in pain before they plummeted to the earth. Even though it had been a few hours ago Mira felt the image imprint in the back of his eyelids. Everytime he closed them it was all he could see.
Jave was all they had, she didn’t know what she would do without them.
It looked like they were safe for now, tucked away in some small run-down ruin of a shack, but Mirasol couldn’t know how long they would stay that way. Mojave was in no shape to fly, but Mira wouldn’t be able to lift them… at least not without significant help. And while Mojave had been insistent upon not asking for help ever since that bitch tried to-- Mirasol had no such issues. Especially when it meant the difference between them spending the night out in the open or in a nice, warm bed. So that’s what they were going to do, go get help. They were already mid-way through packing a bag when Mojave reached out and grabbed their leg.
“Mira, don’t.” they said in their condescending “I know more than you” tone.
Mirasol let their bag fall off their shoulder and sat down on the chest next to the makeshift nest they’d set up for Mo. He knew what they were doing. “Why won’t you let me go get help?”
“We don’t know when she’ll be back.”
“Which is exactly why I need to go!” Mirasol argued back, but as they looked into their guardians eyes they saw something glimmering in the light. It looked like a tear. Mira leaned forward and Mojave grabbed their hand, pulling them closer so their words were no more than a whisper.
“I can’t lose you.” the tear threatened to fall. “I can’t.”
Mira looked back at their bag, then sighed and motioned for Mojave to move over so they could lay in the nest too. They did, with some difficulty, and Mirasol curled up into Mojave’s arms.
“You know, you’re lucky you’re hurt.”
Mirasol could hear a hint of a smile from Mojave, “Oh?”
“Yeah, cause if you weren’t, I’d so be taking off right now.”
The air went dead for a moment.
“Then why don’t you?” Mojave asked, a bit more seriously than Mira had expected.
Because I can’t lose you too. They brushed off the thought. “Because what’s the fun in running away if there’s no one to chase me?”
The laugh Mirasol had been expecting earlier finally released. Mojave reached a calloused hand up and ruffled their hair, smiling. “You little menace.”
Mirasol looked up at them, “Learned from the best!”
Mojave sighed, but the smile stayed light on their face, “Turn off the lantern, will ya?”
Mira reached up to turn the light off, but spared a moment to glance back at their mentor, who was busy pulling the few blankets and pillows the two had into an acceptable nest-shape. With every sluggish motion, something dawned on Mirasol... Mojave was barely 25, but already they looked 40. They might not’ve had the wrinkles yet, or the thinning skin, but it was something in how they carried themself. It was like they had the weight of the world on their shoulders. Or the weight of a teenager with a propensity for theft and property damage. Something that felt an awful lot like guilt bubbled up in Mirasol for a moment as they looked at this person who should’ve had a career, should’ve been starting a family of their own, and realized that they were the reason Mojave had none of that. Mirasol loved Mojave, he would’ve been dead ten times over if it weren’t for the golden eagle, and maybe it was because of that that something always lingered in their mind. A question of who Mojave would’ve been without them. Did Mojave trade their life for hers that day he found her on the edge of the island where her family died or would they have always been like this no matter what?
Mojave whimpered almost imperceptibly as they accidentally brushed their injured wing against a blanket. Mirasol reached over and helped Jave get untangled from the mess. What would they do without each other? Mirasol prayed to whatever gods might exist that the two would never have to find out as they turned off the light.
“Goodnight Jave” Mirasol said as they pulled the covers up around their ears.
“G’night Sol” Mojave muttered as they did the same.