(The original can be found on my Tumblr, but this has been edited a bit. Cover image is by misterpoof on Tumblr)

"Tamara," Aaron said, carrying Call's disturbingly limp body. Something about seeing Call like that terrified her. She knew she shouldn't have let him come- his face had been screwed up in pain and he'd been panting the whole way. But Call was stubborn, and he'd set his jaw and kept going. Now, despite having checked his pulse, she couldn't shake the feeling that he looked like he was in the arms of the Angel of Death.

…Or the arms of his counterweight. Aaron had volunteered because he was much stronger than Tamara- and Call was heavier than he looked. Tamara had protested after seeing his raw wrists, caked with blood, but Aaron had insisted on carrying Call. They were both stubborn that way. Aaron carried him like a giant baby, his limbs flailed around as if attached by strings like a marionette.

Tamara paused, Havoc circling around her heels as if he were anxious to keep moving. Tamara agreed. She didn't want to give the Chaos-ridden a chance to follow them back to the Magisterium. At least, not any more Chaos-ridden than they were already taking. Havoc was...different. It had been odd seeing him being cuddled in Calls arms-similarly to the way Aaron was carrying Call, but now he was another member of their group.

Aaron sped up, coming to walk beside her. He tilted his head, looking at Call's face. His gray eyes were half opened, lolled to the back of his head. Only a little bit of his irises were visible. His mouth was open slightly, and he was starting to drool on his cheek. If Tamara had her phone, she'd take a picture. It wasn't an attractive face, which made her glad Jasper wasn't here to say anything, but it was kind of adorable.

"He's kind of adorable like this, isn't he?" Aaron said.

Tamara hid her grin. "He's not a puppy, Aaron. And he needs medical attention. We need to speed up. If the Chaos-Ridden get here-"

"Then you hold Call while I work my magic-literally." Aaron's voice didn't hold enough humor. It wasn't hard to tell that he wasn't thrilled with being the Makar.

They kept walking in silence. It felt weird without Call to kick pebbles around and be a mopey sarcastic emo.

Aaron never outwardly expressed how heavy Call was, but Tamara could tell by the way he shifted his arms carefully every few seconds, carefully supporting his neck and legs. Tamara half-hoped Call would wake up, demanding to be put down right nowand saying he didn't need help like always.

They finally reached the Mission Gate when the sun was kissing the tips of the trees, warming up Tamara's freezing fingers- it was still cold at night. Tamara yawned. She wished she could just go right back to sleep like this never happened.

Aaron set Call down on the immaculately made white sheets in the Infirmary. He shook his arms out- Tamara knew she should have helped. His arms must have been sorer than her feet. Master Amaranth shooed them out and they left reluctantly.

"Now we tell Rufus." Tamara said, and Aaron shivered.