Grief

Bramble looked over her quietly, his eye full of shock.

"... What exactly do you remember?"

Streaks of blood painted the bat's vision. The hunger in Austin's eyes, the death in his entire appearance; so dead, even though he hadn't lost it just yet. The way he wanted her, the fault in his step. The way he showed himself to her as a boy, soft and tender, as though he would give himself up to save her life. Oh, how wrong she was. For looking back, she only saw the emptiness in his eyes, the resentment and anger he displayed when she made a wrong move. The searing pain of his clawed grip as he stepped away from his kill, looking her dead in the eye. And the snarl he'd yowled into the night:

"Oh, you've done it this time."

Claws took hold of her, deep gashes left with his fits of rage. The tail she'd lost in his outbursts, and the bloodcurdling scream she'd emitted as it was rended from her body, only trying to save his victim. So small, so helpless... All of it, all of it, rushed out like a tidal wave, crashing over the poor bat all at once, drowning her in the salty bitter foam and grit. Tears pricked her eyes, shaking as she managed to pipe up once more:

".... E-Everything... I remember everything...!"

Her shaking only worsened by the second, wiping away the tears with a spare wing. The memories were so fresh, the scars still there despite the way she'd healed up in the meantime. Even the couple years she'd spent with the Acacians wasn't enough to wipe out the years of violence and half-hearted hoping she'd dealt with. Twenty years of dealing with Austin, the greedy, ravenous grasp of the Lurkers surging forth to lap up her fear and self-loathing. The mocking and snarling of the Acacians while she was bound to him only made it worse, remembering all too well the way that even the empathetic lion before her had wanting nothing more than to rip her to pieces. Visions of Austin's looming form crept forward, his voice gravely and all too familiar in her ears.

"Do you think the Acacians will take you back after what you've done? You're mine, and you always will be.  If you want to stay alive, you'll listen to me."

"NO!"

The scream escaped her before she could snap back to reality, eyes wide with fear, fur on end as she took in her surroundings. The palace was there, but it felt much different than she'd remembered. The fear had hardly diluted, but there was something else. The chilling darkness echoed back her cry, forcing it back out and into the open, resonating with the pain. The tears streamed down her eyes, remembering how he'd drained her of all power. But here she was, her pelt only a few shades paler than was healthy. Her light had been restored, and she was able to breathe again. And Bramble was there, watching nervously, although never ripped his gaze from her as though waiting for her to calm down before doing anything.

Moonbeam turned to him, wide-eyed, tear streaks adorning her cheeks in a pale sheen. Still shaking a bit, she held up a wing, wiping away the tears again as she closed her eyes. Once her trembling subsided, Bramble gave a curt, understanding nod.

"Let it out, Moonbeam; let it all out. I know between missions you haven't been able to feel it, but you can now. You can get it out of your system as much and as long as you need; I won't go anywhere until then. That's a promise."

Moonbeam nodded feebly, watching as the winged lion sauntered over.

"The other Acacians don't understand it the same as us; they haven't been through the same torment as either of us - and certainly you more than me. It's okay to feel the same fear and pain as you did then; it never leaves, does it? Everyone thinks time should heal it, but it doesn't... It doesn't go away. Once you've gotten a lick of trauma, it strays with you." Bramble crouched down, scooping her up with a spare paw. The power in his grasp, holding her so gingerly as he gave her a soft lick on her forehead... It was hard to even begin to imagine this was the same lion who had wanted her dead only a couple years ago.  She leaned into his grasp, ears folding as he bathed her affectionately, understandingly. "But that doesn't mean you have to let it take over your life."

Moonbeam nodded, waiting until he was finished before speaking up once more. A new set of powerful memories rose back into her mind, a few more tears dripping down into the lion's massive paws as she recollected everything before the storm. Despite the way he'd treated her and all the shit he'd caused her, the memories of his embrace were stained with a bittersweet air she couldn't describe. She remembered how safe she once felt with him, the gentle power he had. His scent of expensive perfume replaced with the soft, earthy hues, the texture of his waistcoat and pulse in his neck as she settled on his shoulder. She remembered the way he'd held her and bandaged up her wing when he'd found her, fascinated by the way she addressed him and thanked him for saving her. She could still feel the elevated pulse in his palm almost physically through the memories as he pushed himself in front of predators and shielded her from hungry human eyes, wanting her for her before things went downhill.

"... It was more than it seemed, though," Moonbeam spoke absently, not addressing Bramble's words. "Austin... Made me feel like a different person entirely. He made me feel special before things deteriorated, lead me on with grandeur and gilded tales of the Human Lands. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that I was special to him then, and special for who I was, not just for my powers." 

He had made the world seem all too interesting to her. Hushed voices in the dark, and the way they would settle beneath the stars as though they were the only people in the world. She still remembered the euphoria when she presented him with her open heart, diving in too deep. And oh, how deep she fell. Everything he did set her on fire, taking them in as though each and every move, each and every word was entirely unique and original. Without the hunger, without the pain, she remembered the vibrancy of the world when she was with him. Austin had made the world brighter than she'd ever known it to be, and even now she couldn't find a substitute for it. Not even Bramble was the same.

"A-And oh, I loved him, loved him, loved him... Even after he'd revealed his true self to me. Each and every day for a year I'd wake up hopeful that he'd return... But he never did. Taking him out has to be the hardest thing I'd ever done, even now; life just doesn't feel the same without his presence. I still miss him, and I don't know why," she sniffled, shaking her head. "I-I shouldn't feel this way, should I? He ruined my life, and yet here I am wishing he was still here. Wishing I could've saved him." Her shaking returned, voice cracking as she continued:

"I-I'm so stupid; if I hadn't given him my powers, he couldn't have fucked me up like this. Maybe he would've found a better path, and no one would've gotten hurt." Anger rose up in her throat, her tone resentful. "I-If it weren't for me, then maybe nothing would've-"

"Enough."

Bramble's sudden raise in voice made her jump, although relaxed as she noticed the concern in his tone.

"You did nothing wrong, regardless of the shit the Acacians made you believe. You feel into his trap, and it's not your fault you gave him your trust." Bramble shifted his paws, looking down at her with a bold sort of expression. "The Acacians were wrong about you, and they're still wrong about you; they don't like your story the way I do, and I regret that I put my faith in their lies. "What Austin did, honestly, he would've done regardless of your powers. I've lived in the Human Lands long enough to assure you of one thing: the rich and bloodthirsty have a way of pushing themselves to the top, and staying there after the fact. Someone was going to get hurt, and I'm sorry that person was you." Bramble bowed his head, both in respect and regret. "I'm so sorry I didn't know sooner." His words were barely a whisper, closing his eyes. A few tears formed at the corners of his eyes, gritting his teeth.

"It's not your fault, either," Moonbeam murmured, wiping away the tears gently with one wing. "I forgive you, and I know you didn't mean any harm."

The bat turned to the side, noticing the broken boards where she'd pushed him out of the fortress.

"The past is in the past."