Serennedy Golden Compass au - [Pt. 1][Pt. 2][Pt.3][Lore overview]
Luis' Arctic Islands Safehouse, 1947.
They made it far enough into Leon’s stay for him to start examining the cabin before the truth came out.
Frankly, Leon and Panza were surprised their chatterbox friend was able to keep his peace for that long.
Although, his verbosity was only matched by his penchant for doom.
The scientist spent a good fifteen minutes pacing the cabin and talking with his daemon through their link, picking up journals or books before putting them back down.
When Leon caught long, tanned fingers beginning to brush over Panza’s bracelet in an anxious tic, he settled in for the full story and pulled the proverbial pin.
“So…what are you doing up here? Not that I’m not ecstatic to see you, I mean, you look amazing and me ‘n Fiorire have missed you like burning, but… The North Pole?”
“It’s all my fault.”
Leon had to tilt his head to hear better.
“What?”
“I said, it’s all my fault! I’m the reason you’re here at all!”
“I’m pretty sure the United States Military is the reason-“
“¡Cállate! How do you think the military got the idea?”
“Plagiarism sounds about right-” The blond raised an eyebrow.
“No! Leon, you don’t understand!” Luis' hands flew to his own curls, clenching them in emotional agony to center himself. Leon raised an eyebrow and settled his free hand on Fiorire’s head.
“I wasn’t there, Leon, but I was- my research was-“
As Luis turned away, the overhead light caught a flash of gray.
Leon knew that fear in Luis’ eyes.
That was the terror of a small child on an abandoned playground who was about to lose everything dear to him.
His stomach swooped and his hand clenched her fur tighter.
“I’m the reason this whole ring of hell exists.” If it wasn’t deathly silent in the small cabin, Leon would have had to strain to hear what his friend had said.
“What are you saying, Lu?” Gooseflesh had spread across Leon’s arms and the back of his neck at the implications of what his friend was confessing. He ached to press his fist into the space in his chest that held her Tether, just to remind himself that nothing was tearing it out of his sinews and crumpling his lungs like-
“It was my research that proved distance could be put between man and daemon without turning it into Dust. I just wanted to help people, keep their daemons safe… I couldn’t fight, no one would let me fight, then the United States Government said they wanted my mind and I knew about the draft and the thought that you- That she-“
His hand twitched first at Leon and then at his wolf. Big, agonized gray eyes turned their full, pleading force on the seated man.
“Could be killed just because a stray bullet hit one of you-! I- I-“
Luis hadn’t looked this small since Leon watched him sail out of his life. The scientist’s breathing stuttered and he held the tiny head of his bird daemon close.
His shoulders sagged and he said his next sentence into the soft, feline fur of Panza’s shoulder.
“It was how Abuelo died and I couldn’t let that happen again. Nunca más.”
“Wait, Abuelo is dead?” Before the sentence was completely out of his mouth, Luis and Panza sagged into his chair.
“Sí- He…he passed a year or so after we made it back. He was out hunting and a rabid wolf attacked him. Galatea stood between them, I guess, and by the time they got back into town he was bleeding and she was barely breathing.”
Wide, gold eyes snapped to Leon’s, pleading for understanding- begging the human to keep his person from completing the story.
Then Luis shook off Leon’s gentle hand on his shoulder and took in a shuddering breath.
“She d-“ His voice broke and the story finished in a whisper. “She died first, right on our kitchen table. Her Dust was… it was beautiful. Unearthly, in a way, but I would have given anything to have her back.” Leon’s expression crumbled and he felt his eyes mist. He knew what happened next. He’d seen it happen often enough on the front lines and or when a daemon took a hit meant for its human.
Fading.
The human would fade. Little by little, then all at once.
“He asked me, with his eyes, you know. He asked me to kill him.”
If Leon’s grasp got any tighter on Fiorire’s scruff she would have to nip him to let go, but the alternative was reaching over the table and gathering the crumbling scientist into his arms and that… Well, with Panza in the way, what chance did Leon have?
At the moment Luis’ daemon was a small, black cat that fit perfectly into his arms, where Luis cradled him before shooting to his feet. He began to pace, Panza’s tail trailing through the air in their wake.
Leon sat back on his chair and exchanged a look with his own daemon, though his mind was far away.
Abuelo Serra was an incredibly pious man. Faith was as much a part of him as Galatea, woven into him and reflecting him in everything he did. Never in a bigoted way, in fact, the only time Leon ever saw Abuelo set his jaw was when a priest learned about Luis and tried to ‘convert’ him.
Rafael Ruiz Serra never raised his hand in anger to any man, but he gave that bible-thumper a Look that would have made the gargoyles on the old churches hold their hats to their chests.
Then, with one hand on Luis’ shoulder and the other holding Leon back by the center of his chest, Abuelo Serra told that preacher that there was nothing wrong with his grandson and that the priest should look a little harder at the book he reads from every Sunday.
God the Father and their Mother Mary loved his grandson, that should be enough for any of their servants.
Luis had gone from holding back tears to barely controlling all the love that wanted to radiate out of his little body.
Leon wasn’t far behind.
…That man would not have committed suicide like the men Leon had fought beside.
Not someone so faithful and trusting.
He hugged Fiorire’s head and tried to make his breaths as even as possible. For Luis.
“What happened?” His whisper sounded like a gunshot. Luis froze, his fingers in claws around Panza’s sides.
“He…he left me to bury her in the forest and never came back. He kept her in a little glass jar, in the end.”
Leon broke at the weight of Luis’ words. The picture they painted.
Hands slid from Fiorire to gather Luis to his chest in one fluid movement.
Luis buried his face in Panza’s fur and shook apart.
Both men sucked in a breath when a warm weight leaned into Luis’ leg, supporting him from the side where her human was holding him together.
Being touched by another daemon is…
It’s like brushing your fingers across the Dust that makes up the bond between man and soul.
Leon held him tighter before the man and his cat shared a nod.
Luis’ now-free arm slid between his friend’s shoulders and pulled him into his own chest, Panza closing the gap by butting his head into Leon’s diaphragm.
All air went out of Leon’s lungs at the sensation.
After weeks in a cage having his other half shredded, years of brutality in a war that covered him in the blood and Dust of men and their companions, a lifetime of being on the outside looking in, an immigrant boy forced to flee from his family to a new world with only his stern Sicilian grandmother to keep him on the ground…
Being held by two daemons and the boy who knew him best was a sensation that was overwhelming each and every aspect of what made Leon… well, him.
A small hiccupping sob left one of their mouths and the other leaned in further, bringing all four of them to their knees in the little cabin surrounded by snow but filled with home.
---
A/N It's been too long fam .... I think this calls for a double upload today, what do you think? ;)
¡Cállate! - Shut up!
Nunca más. - Never again.
This chapter is Abuelo, next chapter is... Leon >U>
[Pt. 5]
As always, memes and brainrot are under the #serennedy daemon au tag on my blog ^^
I loved this art from @avvos so i made it in my style with some minor changes! Avvos I hope I did your Luis justice and thanks for letting me recreate your art!
