Chapter Text
His voice was weak when he spoke up, your name on his lips, “GZ.”
He was leaning on you shoulder, his knees shaking under him. You glanced around you quickly before you looked down at him. His hand shook as he presented it, slick with yellow in the darkness that threatens to eat you both alive. You nuzzled the side of his face gently, scooping him up into your arms.
You could hear the river from here, which was where you’d been heading anyway. You knew it was going to be soon, he’d been keeping you updating on the shifts. You settled him behind a gnarled tree with it’s dying branches reaching like clawed hands over the water and to the sky.
With staff in hand you stood watch. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end, and your instincts screamed so loud in your pan you were sure YOU’D go hoarse. The smell of him behind you made your head spin, but it wasn’t disorienting. It drove you mad with the need to keep him safe. He was yours and right now, he was as vulnerable as he could ever get.
Panting quietly, this was the first time he’d done this. You could smell the fear on him too. He was scared for himself, and you, and the potential life, and the potential death. But he was angry too. Or… concentrating? Whatever it was, he wasn’t so happy. Which was to be expected really. Considering his body was try to force out a clutch of your eggs.
Quiet trills between clenched teeth, desperate and pleading. An almost gently whirr in the bottom of your throat quieted him back to his breathing. He couldn’t be too loud. Someone might hear you. You kept eyes focused on the trees and the shadows, and he sighed, biting it off. You glanced over your shoulder and he was holding the first in his hand, a mess of fluids and pheromones, glossy in the moonlight. He’d gotten through one though, the first was always the hardest.
A shift in the grass drew your attention back lightning fast. Raising the staff you whispered his name, “Sollux.”
The rocks shift as he clawed into them, but he couldn’t be any quieter than he already was. A sharp anxious chirp and you took a step back towards him, crouching to rub his arm gently, trying to be reassuring. He leaned into you and his skin against yours burned hotter than the sun. Slick with sweat, his blood pusher beating so fast. You rubbed his back, watching everything around the two of you.
“Just keep going my bravest red brother. Almost there.”
He nodded against you, running one horn against your shoulder before he stiffened up, his body trying again to force them out. You rubbed his back, trying to be as supportive as possible, despite not having a clue how to quell his anxious little clicks. You didn’t hear the shift again though, it might have just been an animal. Or another troll who was smart enough not to bother against a highblood and a psionic. Whatever it was, you were able to sit next to him, rocking him and whirring that reassuring sound.
Slowly, so slowly, he worked them out of his brood pouch, leaning on you heavily the longer he pushed through this. He was so tired, and you couldn’t count them in the shade here. You had no idea how many he carried, but hopefully it wasn’t too many more. You hated to see him this exhausted. He’d been so tired lately, this was such a hard thing to do.
You reached over to rub your hand over his still distended gut, but he hissed and you froze. His face softened after a moment and it was alright. He was still stuck in murdermode, but you couldn’t blame him. One hand held tight to your arm and the last of it pushed free, sliding into his other hand. You tried to move, but he shook his head. A few more convulses, his muscles clenching up, and the ground was seeping his color, strings of mucus and reeking of things that made you wild.
He was still panting, his thorax heaving with each breath. But slowly he pulled himself to his feet, and you helped him collect up your shared clutch. Initially he bristled when you tried to help, but he was too tired to fight. And you were his matesprit. The air was starting to warm, and you knew that morning was on it’s way. Cradling your offspring in hand the two of you slunk away from the mess, seeking shelter for the night.