the end is extremely fucking nigh

[tendencytostart]

St. John wakes up slowly, via the sun viciously attacking his eyeballs with a little sun hammer and sun gong and sun knives. And possibly an atom bomb. And maybe a gun and some tanks and -- his head hurts, stfu

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[tendencytostart]

St. John, for the record, is not looking at Nica like she's the only real thing in the world, or like she's the only thing keeping him from collapsing, but like the second he has a spare moment - and stops uh....randomly shooting flames out of his hands - he's going to build her an altar somewhere and become a practicing Dominican as soon as possible, except that those already EXIST, but never you fucking mind.

Also, he feels like he's made of live wires and also on speed and also a...little crazy, so he is just going to touch Nica as much as possible hello, jabbering away at her and somehow managing to keep his voice at something like a whisper. "You did that, you fucking did that for me, I can't believe that, it feels like--I can't even say it, it's bloody fantastic--"

...and generally on like that forever.

[lovegonetowaste]

Nica...is tired.

It shows in the way her eyes are a little more lidded than usual, the way her hands don't manage to catch on his every time she tries to, the way her body's movements are slowing to something less efficient and more languid.

Still -- she doesn't seem willing to let herself stop yet. Not when he's like this. She wants to be here, to see this, to feel the way he burns. She did this. She made this happen. To save their lives, yeah, because she doesn't want to go out by zombie, but--just for him, too. Just because she knew--what she knew is none of your damn business, but it worked, didn't it?

She catches him, pulling him to her and kissing him, her hands steady on his face. She's heedless of, uh, the whole random fire thing at the moment, psh, these aren't her clothes and she can heal herself. Then she lets him go, smiling up at him from under her eyelashes.

[tendencytostart]

He only bursts into flame once an hour or so, honest, and even then he quells it smiling like a retard. He can't seem to stop, which is rare and weird, and it's not that he has energy so much that he, much like his mun, has reached an entirely new level of tiredness where everything is bright and good and just a little unreal.

"We should go home," he mumbles absently, because YES OKAY, he is completely willing to brave zombies and vampires and god knows whatall to be in their space, instead of intruding on Wanda and Adam's.

[lovegonetowaste]

Her eyes are a little wider than usual when she opens them properly to focus on him, and her hands (which are so small; they shouldn't be able to do the things she does) rest flat against his chest, not pushing or pulling but drawing the rhythm of his heartbeat into herself, a drumbeat to keep marching to, just a while longer.

"Okay," she agrees, because he can protect them now, he can keep them safe. She made him that way. Just for a while but--just for long enough, right?

[tendencytostart]

St. John has the sudden insane thought that they should leave a note; he doesn't, for once, have the perverse desire to break into what is clearly meant to be private between his friends, and honestly he doesn't want anything inside the current flowing between him and Nica, either. She's inside him now, he can feel her touch in the power in him, like an extra line in the code of what makes him him.

"Can you walk?" It's a blunt question, even as on edge and trembling as he is, he has the vague sense that she's not quite there, she's hovering, floating on the edge of all this. But it fits; it's the way a demigoddess should be.

[lovegonetowaste]

It's...incredibly telling how long it takes her to formulate an answer to that. As much as she pushes herself, though, Nica knows when to slow down and ask for help. Or...let other people offer it, at least. She leans against him, grateful more than she has words for, and shakes her head.

Truthfully, she might not have admitted that to someone else -- she might've just found a way around it. A little boost of the energy she's swiftly running out of, just enough to get her there...best to save that push for, uh, later.

"If I'm too heavy, I can--help with that."

[tendencytostart]

"'s counterproductive, don't you think." He smiles at her, lopsided and manic, as he is under the impression he could currently lift a car. It's not true, being suddenly pyrogenetic doesn't do anything to increase his upper body strength, but it's the idea that counts.

So he'll carry her then. Wanda and Adam can...fend for themselves. Surely that's what they'll be doing. Fending. Yes.