coming home.
The last of the Reunion forces disappear behind clouds of dust, harsh winds acting as cover for their retreat. What little that remains of them hastily scurries away to regroup and recover. Under strict instructions of the Doctor, none of Rhodes was to go after them. So Thorns stays. He didn’t pursue, he didn’t fire another shot. He simply stands and watches as their silhouettes become smaller, and less and less visible as they are engulfed by the swirling sandstorms.
The silence hangs thickly in the air. He counts down to five, and all at once it breaks into a chorus of relieved sighs and murmured conversations as everyone begins to reorganize themselves. Warfarin's voice stands out as she directs wounded operators to see the medics, Exusiai and Executor crouched together taking stock of their remaining bullets, Blaze barking out orders for everyone to load up into the vehicles post-haste if they are uninjured.
The excited chatter right behind him as they make contact with the other squad, informing them of their immediate return.
The person stops talking, and Thorns turns around as they clap him on the shoulder. Elysium's grinning despite the grime and debris clinging to his clothes, perfectly styled hair now strewn about from the harsh winds. He looks worse for wear, not as much as Thorns is, yet he still manages to maintain his cheerful attitude. He radiates a brightness that not even Thorns is immune to. It draws him in, washes him with a sense of relief to see that not even the bloodiest of wars can wipe away Elysium's smile.
“Ready to go home, Brother?”
Thorns doesn't say anything in response, letting his gaze linger on Elysium. He takes him all in, entranced by the sparkling promise he sees in silver eyes, the breathtakingly killer smile that lights up whatever room he walks in, the lulling sense of comfort Thorns only feels in his presence.
Elysium puts him at ease, he makes him feel like he belongs somewhere. Somewhere nestled in his lanky arms with his chipper laughters.
Thorns nods, pries Elysium's hand off to hold it in his and twine their fingers together. He squeezes, warmth emanating from where their palms touch. Elysium squeezes back.
“With you? Always, Elysium.”