Raef: Roar of Thunder

**Content Warning:  Depression, death, mention of a partner dying, blood, brief mention of violence.**

Date: After the visit to Hansel's.

\_\_\_\_\_

The moon hung heavy and swollen in the night sky, casting the woods in a silver glow as Raef followed the path that would take him back home.  He should have left a letter or stayed the night, but he couldn't. The nightmares were always there, waiting to snatch him and drag back into that fiery hell he had thought he had left behind.

But it was still there.  It still beckoned to him when he was alone.

Like now.

So he kept walking, trudging through the snow and ice to make it home.

He walked until exhaustion pulled at his limbs and he had no choice but to dig out a spot to down in.  He nestled back against the truck of the tree, drawing his cowl over his head to help protect him from the snow that had begun to flutter down in soft, thick flakes.  He could have dispersed the cold with a fire, much like he used to after he had left Alabaster, but now the flames were nothing but an unwelcome reminder.

Raef ran his hands over his face and dropped his forehead to his knees; he was so fucking tired.

~\*~

He patted the bag at his side, smiling as he felt the soft fabric within.  Az was going to love the blanket; Az always did. Raef thought the orc humored him, but there was never any malice or ill-intent within Az’s eyes.  Dark, soulful eyes that stared at him as if he was the moon, and he was the sun...as if there was nothing but him.

With that thought, Raef sped up his walking until the scent of smoke flickered through the air.  Then he ran.

He ran until the ground dropped away beneath his feet, flames rushing up to meet him while screams filled his ears.

*...please…*

He was falling and he was screaming.

~\*~

“Fuck.” Raef scrubbed at his face and dragged himself to his feet, shaking snow off of him.  He had slept longer than he intended. He stepped over the pile that had built up around him and he kept on walking.

~\*~

He wandered, dragging his bag behind him along the dirt road.  Soot still stained his singed clothing and his tears left ragged trails in the grime that covered his face.  Distantly he could still hear Az screaming, screaming for him, but the flames had died down. All that was left was burnt beams, a piece of blackened fabric, and melted ball of metal that now hung down against his chest.

He didn’t know where he was going, or what to do.  A cold, creeping numbness stretched out through him.

“Hey, buddy --”

Someone grabbed his arm, he whirled, snapping his hand up to drive the dagger home.  The body crumpled and still he walked. It had all been a blur. Maybe the man had wanted to help him, maybe he was a thief.

It didn’t matter so he walked.

~\*~

*“You did well, Raef.”*

*“Thank you.”  He cleaned off the blade.*

*“Did he deserve it?”*

*“Yes.”*

*Anatoly smirked. “Are you sure?”*

~\*~

Through the years, through the miles, they all deserved it.  Raef traveled the south, seeking out the orcs that he could. For the first year he had drifted aimlessly, drinking and sleeping in gutters or on the side of the road, but now he had a purpose.  He heard whispers of a fire, of an orc that had caused it and celebrated the death of another orc.

He followed those whispers, anger licking warm and hot within him.  It replaced that cold, bitter numbness that had taken root after Az had died.

*"Are you sure?"*

The dagger slid beneath the skin.

*“Are you sure?”*

A scream ended suddenly, blood pouring out in rivers to splatter on the grass.

*"Are you sure?"*

A headless body was left behind, hanging from a tattered and blood soaked rope.

*"Are you sure?"*

~\*~

Raef sank down on the chair, watching Griffin and the puppies sleep on the bed.  A mostly empty bottle of wine hung from his hand, the bottom resting on the floor as he slouched there.  The conversation with Hansel, and with himself, replayed in his head on an endless loop to mix in with distant screams.

But now thunder roared instead of fire and the screams weren’t Az’s.

The bottle dropped to the floor as he folded over his legs, covering his face as tears fell thick and hot.  A sob was wrenched from him.

He couldn’t lose him.

He couldn’t do this again.

Hansel said Griffin was safe, but how could he be sure?