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reach out?

[Though Sharon tries to meet her gaze, Kalmiya can only bear to hold eye contact for a fraction of a second before her head bows; flinching away instinctively from being so seen, and still silent outside of the violent hitch of her breathing. The wash of shame seeping from her leaves behind a concentrate of something baser, potent dregs of a fear she may never truly shake. Panic, rage, anguish—none were without consequence. They did not always precede an eruption of her holy light. But they always, always meant being left alone.

She doesn't say it again, but still the Murmur cradles the distant sound of the young Savior of Sanctuary, praying to be free of a weight she couldn't entirely understand: I'm sorry.

Tightly she clutches to Sharon's coat, claw tips snagging the heavy winter fabric. Even tighter is her grasp on their tethers, a castaway seeking a lifeline in a maelstrom. Cords braided from their words—the insistence that she's not alone, and she won't be alone, made manifest in the weak tendrils of warmth that anchor her to each of them.

She holds, and holds, and holds. Ash and ozone mingle at the back of her nose. It takes a long moment to find her voice again, her throat squeezed shut as her body braces for a punishment that isn't coming. It's a thin sound, drawn by the tension she can't let go of as she weeps.] I wasn't...even aiming for her. I just wanted to help him...

[Spiteful as Kalmiya can be, her defiance of Sleep was nothing so petty. Something deep, something righteous brought her up onto that pedestal; she's no big damn hero, but she can't stand to see someone emptied of their very self like that.]

[ A distant flare of fury ripples along Arthur's end of the tether, a dangerous spark that he crushes down almost immediately. Like sand thrown over a beach fire just before dawn. The heat is still there beneath the surface, glowing, capable of roaring back to life with the right provocation, but he keeps it buried. He stays focused, handling the situation like a goddamn professional.

When Kalmiya cannot meet her gaze, Sharon glances to Arthur instead, searching, uncertain. All she wants is to make this better, and there's no way to do that. No magic words to fix it. No gesture that'll undo what's been done. All she can offer is her presence. To stay. To be here. To remind Kalmiya that she is not alone. And that feels so painfully useless.

Kalmiya's grip tightens on the tether, and Sharon gently gathers it, cradling it the same way she had wrapped her arms around Kalmiya moments before. She is careful with it, protective of the newly reforged thread between them. As futile as simply being here feels, it is clearly what Kalmiya needs. She needs them. She needs the connection. She needs to be reminded, over and over, that she is not alone. Sharon reaches up and brushes a tear from Kalmiya's cheek, never urging her to look up, offering instead a whisper along the tether that it's okay.

The tears, the shame. Even the pain. It's okay. ]

Sounds like it might be the same thing in her eyes. [ The realization settles quickly, turning into fresh purpose—an adjustment to a goal on her list. ] You didn't do anything wrong. It just means we'll have to be smarter about how we help him from here on out.

[ Sharon slants her gaze sidelong and all he can think to do is place a steadying hand on her shoulder over their tether. No words will heal the hurt immediately, not right now, but they're still useful to be said aloud. Kalmiya needs that in this moment, to hear the assurances. ]

I don't know what their relationship is, exactly, but knowing Sleep–she wants to possess. So, she got ugly and asserted her power when you made any kind of headway to help him. She wants him right where he is, which is under her thumb.

[ It's with disgust that his mouth twists, the palm at the back of Kalmiya's neck giving another reassuring squeeze. He doesn't voice: think that's what she wants for all of us, since it doesn't help much. Sharon, he thinks, has cottoned on. And Kalmiya may have, between the lines. Either way, he gently brushes his thumb along the side of her neck, head tilting to catch a snippet of her watery gaze. ]

C'mon, let's get you wrapped up in that hideous comforter you insisted on.

[Part of her knows this: that Sleep only reacted the way she did because Kalmiya's actions might have made a difference. That Sleep wants to fully possess One and all others in her garden. And that Kalmiya did the right thing, standing up for herself. Standing up for One.

It just doesn't feel right. Nothing feels right. Nothing except the brush of Sharon's knuckle across her tear-streaked face and the gentle line that Arthur's thumb traces on her neck. They are all that anchor her to the present moment, all that prevents her being swept by the riptide into other times she has felt so raw, so empty. The prickly compulsion to hide her face as Arthur tries to meet her eyes is unbearable—and responded to by the volatility of her body, a heat-mirage shimmer rippling over her form, disrupting the sight of her like a reflection vanishing on the disturbed surface of the water.

It's not subtle, but it lasts only a moment, only as long as the wave takes to sweep her head to toe before she's whole again. But again there is the sense of shrinking, of retreat, as she tries to find a hiding spot within the nonjudgmental embrace of Sharon's tether. Quietly, though, she nods—without even a remark about Arthur's taste in comforters.

It's as she's forcing her hold on Sharon to relax so she can be led that she unsticks her tongue, tentative and small, a question for them both.] ...do you...have somewhere else you need to be?

[ For just a moment, a familiar distortion ripples through Kalmiya's silhouette, like heat warping the air, bending the light to blur her shape. It feels instinctive, her body reacting before thought can catch up. Their tether is still too fresh for Sharon to grasp the full reason behind it. Kalmiya's emotions register like distant lights on the horizon, their colors and shapes visible, but softened by haze, as if felt through fog.

Then, just as quickly, it's gone.

Arthur's comment, clearly an inside joke between the two of them, earns no quip in return, not even a playful curve of Kalmiya's lips. It only highlights the damage that's been done. She's trying not to drown in it. Still, she loosens her hold on Sharon, just a fraction, just enough, and finds the will to ask something she shouldn't have to ask, something she should already know the answer to. ]

Fuck, no. [ The words spill out instantly, her voice cracking, pitching too high for how raw her throat is. It isn't even a question worth considering. Between her physical state, the bone-deep exhaustion that makes her feel like a dead girl walking, and Kalmiya herself, there's no way she's leaving. ]

I'm here until you kick me out. [ And even then, she'd probably hole up nearby, waiting to be called back. Kalmiya sat with her through her worst, offered her love freely while Sharon choked on guilt and terror. Sharon is here to return the favor. To be an anchor until no longer needed. ]

Now, come on. You heard him. [ she urges, gently guiding her through the apartment door. ]

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