*****
It wasn’t until Druig felt himself fall onto the cold, hard floor of the Domo that the spinning stopped. Seized by anxiety, Druig looked to his left where Lyla sat, similarly toppled by the force of their journey. She looked tired but unhurt, and when Druig met her gaze she beamed at him, a triumphant grin.
Druig felt the anxious coil in his stomach loosen ever so slightly, but it wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice singing his name.
“Druig?”
Before he’d even looked up at Elena, peering down at him with a dazed look in her eyes, he’d broken into enormous, rib-breaking sobs of relief. He heard Elena rocket off the hospital bed, the heart monitor screeching in warning as she wrenched the EKG leads off her chest. He felt her wrap him and Lyla in her arms, and he breathed in her familiar scent. Her hair was soft and stuck to his tears, her skin was soft and warm, and her laughter ricocheted around the room like a peeling bell. Lyla was squealing in delight, crying “Momma!” over and over again as the three grabbed each other, swapping tearful kisses as the reality of their reunion settled in their minds.
For the first time in months - no, years - Druig felt like he could really breathe. As the sounds of their crying and laughter swam through the Domo, he heard his companions begin to spill into the room. Each one met the scene with a different exclamation of relief, joy, and disbelief. Phastos almost crumpled to his knees on the spot, tears streaming down his cheeks as he swept up Elena and Lyla in a bone-crushing hug. Druig felt Makkari’s sinewy arms squeeze his shoulders and neck from behind.
Druig wasn’t sure how long they all spent celebrating. Druig recounted for them all - Elena included - the events of her rescue as best he could. He was surprised to feel his throat close with emotion as he told them all about Galen. Elena smiled sweetly at him, running her palms reassuringly over his forearms. They hadn’t allowed any separation between them since she’d returned, always touching somehow, as the few remaining shreds of fearful disbelief at their long-awaited reunion began to evaporate.
After Druig finished, Elena told them all, shakily and with much difficulty, what little she remembered of the preceding few months. Her memories were fractured and anachronistic, but Druig felt his chest swell with pride at her bravery and strength. To think she’d been literally carrying Death around her neck for almost a year. He marveled at her, drinking in the sight, sound, smell and feel of her. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d allowed himself to hope for her salvation. He found he could hardly go a minute before he saw her from a different angle, heard her laughter strike a new tone, or unearthed another memory of their time together, and all over again he was falling aimlessly through pure, unfiltered bliss. Next to him, Lyla snuggled against his rib, alternating between his arms and Elena’s.
After Elena finished her tale, Phastos spoke. He filled in the missing pieces for the others about the Death Stone and about what they’d witnessed at the Emergence. Sersi added her own recounting of her exchange with Arishem. Although there were moments of quiet and darkness still - breaking the news of Ikaris’ death was a particularly difficult one - the hours they all spent together were some of the best of Druig’s life so far.
He wasn’t sure how long they all spent, crowded together in the sterile medical room on the Domo, swapping stories and reacquainting themselves. By the time they all emerged, the sun was setting over a peaceful ocean. They still hadn’t left the small island where Tiamut had almost succeeded in breaking Earth open like an eggshell. Druig felt a delicious exhaustion wash over him as he, Lyla, and Elena all made their way to their chambers. They didn’t bother changing their clothes before sinking into bed, Lyla between them as Elena and Druig clasped their hands over her. Lyla fell asleep quickly, her breath deep and even.
Druig looked up at Elena, a gentle smile on her lips and a dreamy glaze in her eyes.
“I missed you,” Druig whispered after a while. He wished he could have found more profound words, but his mind fought against him as it slid towards sleep.
“I missed you,” Elena replied, squeezing his hand tightly. She blinked, and her eyes stayed close for a breath. Druig smiled, letting his own eyes soften and close.
Right before sleep claimed him, he heard Elena murmur something.
“What, love?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.
“I am alright,” she said, her whisper a fraction louder so he could hear.
He opened his eyes, looking at her quizzically. What did she mean?
She chuckled softly at his confused expression.
“I am alright, Druig. That was the first thing you said to me when we met. You said ‘you’re alright’. I didn’t know it then, but I know it now. I am alright. With you. As long as I’m with you…”
Druig let his mind chase itself back to the memory of their first meeting, at a memorial service in Sokovia. He remembered how she’d looked when he’d seen her that day. She’d been dressed in all black for the occasion, and she’d been limping towards him in the chaotic aftermath of an anti-Avenger riot. He’d seen her hazel eyes first, and almost like stepping through a one-way door, the rest of Druig’s life had pivoted in the span of a second. Every moment from then onward had been saturated with Elena, with his love for her. It was perfect. She was perfect. Not in a superhuman way, but in a poignantly human way. She was raw, unfinished, and incredibly precious. Druig hadn’t ever felt that he’d neglected to appreciate her, but after having come so close - so desperately close - to losing her, he committed himself to never take her for granted, or the peace that she brought him.
With that intense feeling of gratitude and serenity weaving through his mind, Druig gave himself over to a deep sleep, tangled up in his wife’s arms with their daughter slumbering peacefully between them…