Cold Marble

Damian stood gazing down at the new headstone, fingering the medallion hanging from a cord around his neck. It bore the mark of the Brotherhood. Damian wasn't really acquainted with any of the other Hunters, only his master.

His master was dead.

A sad whimper came from his right as Lynne echoed his thoughts. Damian turned to look down at the dire wolf, frown deepening in sympathy. He had lost a father figure, but his daemon had lost her mother. The teen refused to believe that the wolf didn't feel the loss as deeply as he did. She was no ordinary wolf, after all.

Hard blue eyes returned to the cold marble before him.

Damian supposed that at the very least, they did not have to live without one another. Losing Sophia would have destroyed his master, the teen knew, and he was certain the reverse would also be true. It was unfortunate that their son would have to grow up without parents, but Sophia's parents had taken him in.

Ghost had died shortly after Asric died and she'd been buried beside her master, even if the daemon's name wasn't engraved upon the stone. The Divination professor's raven had literally pined away. Damian had tried to keep the bird alive, but Magus had refused to eat; the bird had been inconsolable. It had never occurred to Damian that he was more than a pet, but he must have been Sophia's familiar.

"What now?" Damian asked aloud, voice quiet. He crouched down so his mentor's name was closer to eye level. "How many people am I supposed to lose?"

His tone had become unmistakably sad and the boy closed his eyes a moment, breathing slowly in and out as he mastered his emotions. Lynne pressed against his side and he reached out to tangle his fingers in her fur. Finally, he found himself able to continue.

"I thought of you as my father, you know. As my real father. I don't count the muggle -" he spoke the word with an ugly sneer - "even before Theo... he never really cared about me. But I could always depend on you. Always. Asric-"

A strangled sound tore its way from his throat and his vision blurred. "What do I do, now? Master, I... I'm not ready. I still need you..." Damian's voice trailed off plaintively and he turned to bury his face in Lynne's fur, the next words to part his lips muffled by her coat.

"Why did you leave me?"

Spoiler:

For once in her life, Iva had chosen to be late. Though the headmaster had been somewhat of a terrifying mentor to her, she had never felt the connection or love towards the man. His death, along with his wife's, was tragic, but she couldn't bring herself to feign gloom towards the situation. Asric had taught her to be a strong, hardened hunter; continuing would be the proper way to honor his death.

But Damian wouldn't see it that way. Not that she blamed him. The two had a bond the Russian was a bit jealous of, one that her boyfriend would cherish for the rest of his life. So, Iva strolled casually through the grave markers, allowing him to have his final moments with the couple. Zoya followed behind her, calm and collected for once in her life. It was a strange moment for the two; Zoya with pinned back ears, Iva in old jeans and a gray shirt. These moments were strange, like loopholes in life's normal settings.

The teen stood behind the boy before squatting down to ruffle his hair. There was a ghost of a bemused smirk on her lips that quickly faded into empathy. Patting his back softly, an awkward attempt to calm him, she let out an airy sigh.

"Damian," she whispered, "It will be alright, I promise. They... they are together now. It is what he would have wanted, yes?"

The girl stood, trying to regain a proud stance, even with the sadness in her voice, "Hunters aren't supposed to cry," she said, but her voice was only half convinced, "Hunters are supposed to work through this stuff together and...

"I'm going to be completely honest, Dame. I don't know what to say. I can't make this better, I'm sorry. I'm... I'm just gong to stand here until you need me, whether that be right now or in a thousand years."

"Says who?" Damian retorted, sounding more weary than petulant. He pulled away from Lynne to rise to his feet, turning to Iva to wrap his arms around her and bury his face against her neck.

"Thank you," he murmured against her skin. "For trying. For being here. I'll be all right, I just... I can't be, right now. It hurts too much. I wish it didn't, but it does."

His arms tightened around her and Damian made no further movement, allowing himself to feel comforted by the girl's presence.