[Raikov]

Beige paws stretched out in the welcoming sand of Tortuga.

They'd been at war for what felt like months, smouldering heat and fire kissing the unfortunate into an early grave. The teeth and blood rang in all their ears, emerging victorious again. Sharp teeth clicked together in the early morning light, soothing waves crashing along the shore in a familiar melody. New scars and aches littered his joints, his very bones deep within him. Though the Captain had recovered his lost treasure, his beloved that he had been parted with for... how long had it been? Rita had still been alive back then, the old wench's bones rattling like a wind chime.

Too long.

He'd had little interaction when they had met, his heart defrosting, the Leviathan's rage fizzling at the sight of his red ruby eyes. He had returned with the rest of them, back to their stronghold next to the sea; so different than their old home of Errez' territory. No, this one they could truly call their home; make it theirs. The male emerged fresh from the docked ship of Devil's Doom, tail squishing about behind him leisurely like a banner. His lips twisted into a yawn, exposing sharp canines before the brute shook himself awake.

He had one destination on his mind and that was to see his lover. The rope necklace pulled taught along his neck, jewels of bone and stone swinging with each confident stroke of movement, the man moving more like a panther than a wolf. Molten gold eyes fixated on the Surgeon's hospital, where many of his brood and kin stayed. He was determined to shape them into something more than they had been, so fixated on alliances and other packs that he had neglected to see what was right next to him. They all shared a bond unlike the others, they were pirates and would stand by each other as one unit.

Them against the world.

Raikov made a mental note to go around and see everyone, in particular Adder and Solomon. He'd heard they'd done impressive things during the war, and Raikov wasn't one to let that go ignored. But it was their first day back on their own soil, and he would leave well enough alone to heal first. He would see them later.

There was a small space near the back of the cavern that dug into the mountains, providing patients the shelter from the outside world while they recovered. A familiar scent hit his nose that made his ears flicker, pupils dilating as the scent of his mate hit him. Heavy paws took the Captain closer, a single entity on his mind as he moved. A sharp intake of breath as Ezekiel's form came into sight, his eyes automatically softening at the sight of his beloved.

”Ezekiel.... He'd breathe, lungs squeezing at the exhale; heart crawling its way up into his throat to lodge snugly there. How long had he wanted this man? How many nights and heartaches had he endured after losing him? He had become Captain in the time Ezekiel had been missing, promoted from First Mate to Quartermaster... then Quartermaster to Captain. He held so much power, and yet he felt disarmed and useless before the other man. He had waged a war for this, had lost family and friends for this. For his own selfish, greedy wishes. Violeta.... his beautiful niece, his sister Arma and countless others. Could he have lost his children too? His precious babies whom he cherished out of everyone?

A soft shake of his head brought him back to the present, drinking in the other man. Had he been punished for being kidnapped? What had they said, what had they done? A rumble build in his chest, a pleased and content noise as he moved forward; banishing the negativity that pulled and pricked at his head. ”Ezekiel... fuck I missed ye,” He'd whisper, scarred nose shifting to nuzzle and scent the other mans face, his neck, his body. A broad tongue swiped over Ezekiel's face, kissing and grooming the wayward fur into place as Raikov drank in his scent like a dying man.

His body pressed in close to his lover, chin rubbing along the strong and sturdy spine of him; his tail curled under and over his neck like a scarf. And it was like that the Captain stayed, pressed close against Ezekiel that their warmth and scents mingled, drawing in greedy lungfuls of him to soothe his worries and fears. Eventually the brute dragged them both down, his nose and tongue rubbing against the nape of his mate's neck to soothe him.

”I missed ye so fuckin' much. I'd do it all again ta have ye back here with me,” He admitted, lemon eyes sharing adoringly at his mute mate. If Hebe happened to join in Raikov would give a pleased grunt, shifting to allow him to slide in next to them; his tail stretching to drape over his husband. ”This is where we belong. Not apart, but together. Always.”

[Ezekiel]

E Z E K I E L

pretty little head

He isn't sure when he got here.

Ezekiel remembers the war; remembers the faces of Tortugans as he knocks them off their feet with blows never meant to kill, remembers the way the fire licked at the earth and the unfortunate souls caught in its path, remembers the eons of fighting before being dragged to stand at his mother's side. He remembers her words, that parting look before her teeth sunk into him, driving him out and away. For good. For home. If he saw Raikov past that point, he doesn't recall, the memory blocked by smoke and exhaustion -- brain burning into overdrive as his physical self disconnects from his mentality.

When Ezekiel awakes he is alone, curled in the farthest corner of the cave. Briefly, he remembers, the starless sky of the cavern above him, the place he called home for what felt like years before being brought into the heart of Tortuga. His body locks, breath catching in his throat as he tries to breathe past the knot of fear digging into his chest, heart sinking into his stomach. He wants to scream. He never left the Abyss, this whole time. Was all of it a lie? The war, Raikov, his children? His children. Hanna. Panic bubbles at the corners of his consciousness as he tightens the ball he is in, feeling his spine ache as he does.

A high pitched whine escapes him, and when his nails dig into the gravel of the mountain cave he pulls at them until they sting. Overwhelmed with the need to find something real, something tangible. He nearly rips the nails out of their beds, and the only thing that stops him is the scent of someone drawing nearer, the footsteps on the horizon. Ezekiel's stomach twists, fear and anger stewing beside the panic still boiling over. He imagines yellow eyes illuminated by fire, the sequence like a dream behind his eyes as he expects to turn around and see Rita standing there, waiting for him. Bidding him to come out of his hole, his shell, the safe space he carved for himself deep within his soul.

When Ezekiel lifts his head and looks, the blue fur illuminated by distant sunlight makes him clench his teeth. But the voice. The scent. Ruby eyes slowly widen as Raikov pads closer, Ezekiel's name on his lips. He turns, unwinding from his ball with a wince of discomfort. He can't bring himself to stand, can hardly sit as he lays upon the cold mountain ground and looks up at his mate. His mate, was he though? In the corner of the room beady black eyes reflect the sun as Florence shifts, coming from the shadows to hop to her owner's aid. She says nothing, head tilted as she regards the wolves.

His mouth dries as he meets Raikov's eye for a second, turning onto his belly, shoulders hunched as he draws in on himself. If this wasn't just another hallucination then Raikov was really there, really drinking in the sight of his broken mate. If this wasn't another hallucination then Ezekiel would have to face the reality of his actions, the time in Oukoku-Kai. Quick red eyes scan Raikov's form to check for new scars, ones he would have inflicted upon Raikov as he sent the Captain tumbling down the face of the cliff. He couldn't handle hurting another person he loved, but really, what was one more in the face of his sins?

Ezekiel draws himself up on jelly legs and is met with a grooming kiss to his face that breaks something deep in him. Ezekiel's body shakes with the force of the choked sob, the panic and fear and anguish bubbling beneath the surface hitting him at once like a trainwreck. He looks, he sees, as Raikov presses close to him. Were those scars always there? He did it, he's done it. He's hurt someone else. Even if it was in the war, it was his fault, as the direct cause of the conflict in the first place. He shudders and whines under Raikov's touch before pressing himself back into the Captain, nearly pinning him against the wall with the force of needing to be near him.

Not apart, but together. Always.

He shakes his head, caught between pulling back and staying still. In the end, he chooses to go stiff, joints locking painfully into place. Florence, in all her loving, gentle understanding hops between his paws, caging herself in. The eagle stares up at Raikov, eyes black and wide and deeper than the void. "Bad," she says for Ezekiel. "I'm no good," she echoes, the hawking tone of her voice bouncing off the walls of the cave.

"Better without me."