Their sobs wrench at part of Corrigan's heart, because he can hear the pain, the exhaustion in each echoing sound. He can feel their ribs, the way they're shaking and shuddering in his protective grip, and he knows -- there's so much left to be done, so much hurt to heal, physical and within Kurt's soul. But they're home. They're safe in his arms, and he's never, never letting them go again. That'll be enough.
Corrigan would be content to curl up like this -- also on his knees, somehow, cradling Kurt against him and breathing them in, their scent, their voice, their beautiful, perfect face, perfect even despite the new hollows in their cheeks, the haunted look in their eyes. He's aware of the rest of the pack stumbling into the clearing, freezing alongside Naseer and staring. He can feel their soaring, blazing joy, like a caress to his soul, their relief, their eagerness to also be reunited with their mate.
But they linger, for a bit, for a moment, allowing their Alpha to have his reunion first, the very sight of it healing something within the pack. Wolves love their leaders the most, seek their Alpha's contentment and peace above everything else. Kurt's loss had devastated the pack, but Corrigan's grief had gutted them, to see their beloved ALpha, their center, their ruler and king and god so thoroughly miserable, day after day.
So Corrigan has that moment to hear the soft cooing burble, to feel the spark of something knitting itself together in his chest as he looks down into the eyes of the baby. His baby. His daughter. She's everything good, everything perfect and wonderful and near-holy, looking up into his eyes with a silent recognition. Just as Kurt's link to their child had come effortlessly, without caution or hesitation, so too had Corrigan felt the soft, warm, bright presence somewhere in his mind since she'd taken her first breath. He'd scarcely been able to feel it during the cold, empty days, so lost in his own grief, senseless with it -- yet every time he slept, Corrigan dreamed of the sun. Had that been her, all this time? Waiting to meet him, secure in her faith that she would?
"Holly," Corrigan repeats in a soft voice, reaching out one careful finger to smooth down one round, soft baby cheek. Holly wiggles a little, yawns enormously and blinks her bright, stunning eyes. "She's -- Kurt, she's so perfect."
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Corrigan would be content to curl up like this -- also on his knees, somehow, cradling Kurt against him and breathing them in, their scent, their voice, their beautiful, perfect face, perfect even despite the new hollows in their cheeks, the haunted look in their eyes. He's aware of the rest of the pack stumbling into the clearing, freezing alongside Naseer and staring. He can feel their soaring, blazing joy, like a caress to his soul, their relief, their eagerness to also be reunited with their mate.
But they linger, for a bit, for a moment, allowing their Alpha to have his reunion first, the very sight of it healing something within the pack. Wolves love their leaders the most, seek their Alpha's contentment and peace above everything else. Kurt's loss had devastated the pack, but Corrigan's grief had gutted them, to see their beloved ALpha, their center, their ruler and king and god so thoroughly miserable, day after day.
So Corrigan has that moment to hear the soft cooing burble, to feel the spark of something knitting itself together in his chest as he looks down into the eyes of the baby. His baby. His daughter. She's everything good, everything perfect and wonderful and near-holy, looking up into his eyes with a silent recognition. Just as Kurt's link to their child had come effortlessly, without caution or hesitation, so too had Corrigan felt the soft, warm, bright presence somewhere in his mind since she'd taken her first breath. He'd scarcely been able to feel it during the cold, empty days, so lost in his own grief, senseless with it -- yet every time he slept, Corrigan dreamed of the sun. Had that been her, all this time? Waiting to meet him, secure in her faith that she would?
"Holly," Corrigan repeats in a soft voice, reaching out one careful finger to smooth down one round, soft baby cheek. Holly wiggles a little, yawns enormously and blinks her bright, stunning eyes. "She's -- Kurt, she's so perfect."