Ashton held on relentlessly, despite Barclay's nail marks on his skin and brusies from fighting back. The dragon was patient, endlessly patient, with only Barclay. It was deeper than the role of a handler, which was what Blake called Barclay. It was friendship. It was love. It was possession and if Ashton could be patient with himself, he could be even more patient for the human he valued above all others.
"Barclay," Ashton growled through his teeth as the Druid gave one last struggle before going limp. Ashton lifted his head to look down at Barclay when he began making a sound. It was a sound that tore into Ashton's very soul. Barclay breaking. The crying itself didn't make a sound, but Ashton heard it regardless. "Barclay," Ashton said again, a low murmur as he relaxed his grip on him and saw him curl up, shaking.
With strong long arms, Ashton scooped Barclay up and held him, legs on either side of the boy who seemed so young and so fragile just then. Ashton curled around him, pressing his nose and mouth against Barclay's hair and breathing against him, hunched and holding his position there as Barclay cried.
Sorin blinked and had tears of his own in his eyes. He couldn't stand it. The strong and powerful druid was reduced to this. It could happen to any of them, Sorin realized. The Black Dog whined and Sorin shook his head at it, then held his hand out, calling it back. When the Black Dog was returned to his place on the conjurer's ribs, Sorin swallowed hard and started cleaning up the mess until Ashton sent him a look. Understanding, Sorin nodded and picked up his bag before moving to the door.
"Barclay," Sorin paused at the door, looking back. "I--" He didn't know what to say, and just bowed his head, giving Barclay the courtesy of privacy.