#cceancycs

Squad.

assorted suggestive dialogue.

Astarion woke with a sweat drenched start. Sitting up, his mind slowly recognized that his surroundings had changed in an instant. The sleeping wolf lifted her head as Halsin, at his opposite side, raise from his own slumber to see what was the matter. Another nightmare. The third night this week. They became more and more frequent as they neared the walled city where his master waited for him. The vampire talked a big game in his plans to surprise Cazador and rip him limb from limb, but even with this tadpole and the illusion of freedom that it granted, he was still terrified.

The druids moved in sync, each cuddling up to the vacant sides of the trembling vampire. "I'm right here. I'm with you." Halsin whispered, like a deep humming lullaby. Voice so soothing it could put a ravenous gnoll to sleep. Meanwhile, Lauren place her warm snout on his lap, letting his fingers card through her fur to ground himself in the moment. Catching his breath, Astarion leaned himself into Halsin's immoveably large form. He was safe. For now.

   bullets shatter the windows of her home, split the wood of her doors.  pops ring through the night, flashes lighting up the now darkened house.  not everyone takes kindly to extra terrestrial visitors.  sympathizers get the same treatment.  blade in hand, leon is slicing at the air as he drives the attackers backward --- movements too quick, too swift ; they can’t get away, and he won’t stop ‘till red splatters his clothing and their shrieks fill the air.  shreds of clothing fall to the floor as one of them drops to their knees, clutching at the open wounds on their arm.  how weak, to go down so easily.  but there are more where that came from.  footsteps are retreating to the stairs.  anger and determination resonate with each stomp of his boots, chasing them down.  they won’t touch her.  it’s not something he’d ever allow. . .  not so long as he draws breath.  no siblings of his own, no children yet.  lauren is the closest he has.  anyone who hurt her would have the deepest of hells to pay.

   “you really attacked the wrong house.”  as he speaks it he’s lunging, grabbing for the wrist holding the gun --- it cracks beneath the violent upward jerk of his hand, ammo firing into the ceiling.  with a powered push they are launched through the hallway window, and turning to his left, he can see lauren in her bedroom.  “stay here, i almost got all of ‘em.  you’re almost safe, i pr--”

   pain hot as a star’s core soars through his arm, warm blood trickling down to his fingers.  “god --- damn it!”  through and through he’s been shot from behind.  fury paints his features. . .  the fury of a wolf protecting its den about to tear out the throat of the threat.  uninjured arm strains, the hand lifts ; he needn’t look back to the shooter to see their body rise, hit the ceiling with enough force for a sickening neck snap, and thud to the floor.  silence fills the house, save for leon’s pained grunting as he enters the room.  nothing he can’t handle.

“Han...! I’m so happy you could make it...”

Missy’s voice carried, Lauren’s cold almost lifeless blues turning to glance over her shoulder to see the exchange. Missy seemed... Happy... Relieved Ben was connecting with him. But Han didn’t deserve it, Lauren thought with an extra dash of venom; Han didn’t deserve to reap the benefits of Eamon raising Ben—

“It really means a lot to us...”

Missy continued and smiled toward her son.