doggone

[repeatedprayer]

[In the time following his departure from Tabito and Manabu's company, the alias "Grey" has wound up sticking.

Not that everyone calls him that, he's used a few other aliases since then, but it's what he's wound up thinking of himself as. If Grey had taken the time to think about it a bit more he might have picked something with a little less connection to Rezo's name, but it's still leagues better than thinking of himself as "Rez- wait, no, just a copy." And maybe that's why he's felt significantly calmer since he left Sairaag.

By his own standards, Grey has been laudably well-behaved; sure, he's been mostly doing under-the-table psychic work, often on behalf of criminals, but! He's been trying to keep a low profile so it's usually things like clairvoyant spying rather than anything violent, and he's been making a point of not doing anything that directly impacts the galaxy railways.

It would be extremely awkward if Manabu Yuuki had to try and arrest him, after all.

He's found himself frequently thinking about Manabu, much to his annoyance. He has no serious expectations of ever seeing Manabu again, so it's simply a waste of mental bandwidth to find himself wondering what Manabu is doing right now or where he is, or to reminisince over their incredibly brief acquaintanceship. Grey can only suppose that because Manabu was the first reasonably normal person he got to know after leaving Sairaag that Manabu is going to stick out in his mind for a while.

And it's probably because of the real estate that Manabu is hogging in Grey's mind that he's been very aware of every mention of the SDF that crosses his path. He hasn't exactly been tracking the SDF's activities deliberately, but he does pay attention to the news and the SDF frequently winds up in there, even if Manabu's name in particular isn't normally dropped.

Until the day it does.

SDF Officer Taken Hostage By Pirates]

* * *

[It's taken several weeks of investigating, but Grey has been able to track down The Huntress's client, a Dr. Parish and associates. It must be a small galaxy, because Dr. Parish is someone Grey knows. Sort of.

Rather, Dr. Parish was a colleague of Rezo's who collaborated with the man on chimera research (and other unsavory things) in the past. Not only that, the man was an ardent admirer of Rezo's superior psychic prowess, and desperate to improve his own meager abilities.

He'd had quite a shock when Grey approached him in town, but after the initial surprise it had been sickeningly easy to convince Dr. Parish that he was the real Rezo. Grey can only surmise that the man wants to believe too badly to let himself be properly suspicious. It had only taken a day for Grey to be invited to tour Parish's laboratory.

The lab's located on the grounds of a former Marquess's estate, a ways out of town and secluded by trees, a high wall, and a long drive. Grey's done a little recon before, but actually being here is different, especially since he has to navigate by cane at the moment. Grey is doing his best to politely nod and smile as Parish guides him from room to room, explaining their work and occasionally handing him things to examine himself.

But evidently Parish realizes that "Rezo" isn't entirely interested, because he stops partway through an explanation of some stem cell experiments he and a few others have been working on to say "Of course, the really interesting specimens are kept in the basement floor."

Grey already knows this. He hopes his expression seems the right sort of eager.]

Interesting?

["Something along the lines of what we did in the past. Would you like to see them?"]

Nothing would please me more.

[Grey can practically hear Parish's delighted grin. To soothe the surge of irritation, Grey reminds himself that he's going to kill this man before the end of the day and allows Parish to guide him out into the hall and to the basement entrance at the back of the building.]

Comments

[repeatedprayer]

[Grey bites his lip. Kind, comforting words aren't exactly his forte. Or at least they're not something he's comfortable with. But he can at least think of a logical objection.]

Well that was his duty, wasn't it? That doesn't make it your fault.

[siriusly]

I, I know.

[but facts don't make it easier. doesn't make watching him drop, hole in his chest, into the sand to be left behind. what if Manabu hadn't been there? would it have been another stranded civilian? is that how time knots work?

or was it always Manabu?

he sniffs, then exhales carefully, still tensed up.]

I'm not...I don't blame myself. I'm just...what's left behind.

[and is he doing a good job with that? with what his dad and brother left behind? survey's still out.]

[repeatedprayer]

...I'm sorry.

[Grief is one of those things Grey doesn't have a good understanding of. He thinks, perhaps, that he can understand a little of what Manabu says when he describes himself as 'what's left behind.' Grey had had similar thoughts at various points thanks to Rezo- when Rezo had abandoned his lab, when he'd gotten himself killed, when Grey had found out that Rezo had killed himself- each time Rezo had left his copy behind, leaving Grey a loose end that wasn't considered worth tying up.

The similarities are thin, however. Manabu's brother had been a good man, and they'd loved each other. The holes in Grey's heart are from rejection, not the sincere grief that Manabu struggles with.

And it's thanks to Manabu that Grey's emotional wounds have managed to lessen just a bit.]

But I'm glad you're still here. And I'd wager that I'm far from the only one.

[siriusly]

Are you? [he winces internally at how feeble the ask sounds aloud, prompting another gulp.] Even here?

[repeatedprayer]

Of course! [Ever the tactful sort, Grey half-scoffs the words. As if it's absurd that Manabu hasn't figured that much out already. Come on, does he think Grey would huddle naked with just anyone?] Manabu, all my best memories involve you. I- I didn't believe there were truly good, kind people in the world until I met you.

[siriusly]

[Manabu stifles on an affected sound, ashamed. it's really pathetic to be worked up as it is, but the affirmation makes him want to cry - the assurance that he's been worth the insane amount of trouble and discomfort.

best memories? he can almost utter a laugh, but it risks breaking the fraying shreds of his composure.]

This part. Can't count. [he swallows.] Or that means...everything's been bad.

[repeatedprayer]

[Oh no. Is that a near-tears sound Grey's hearing? At least he's already hugging Manabu if he needs comforting. Still, it adds to the fluster that Grey's experiencing.] Oh, this situation isn't that bad. Although I did prefer sharing an actual bed. [And being in a building with central heating.

Anyway.

Grey absently strokes Manabu's back, trying to put his thoughts in some semblance of order.]

My life was bad. I was raised as a lab rat. So maybe my opinion doesn't count for much, to you. [Since Grey's going to have way lower standards than a normal person and all.] But I remember how people treated you when we were on Tabito. Your mother, Shutaro, the miners. Everyone liked you. They're glad you're here too.

[siriusly]

[there's another choked-up sound at doesn't count much because that's not true!! he didn't mean that! raugh!!

he fidgets, snaking his arm between them so he can scrub at his face with the heel of his hand, tucking his chin to hide evidence of the leaking emotions. get it together, Yuuki! what's crying going to fix? own up to the good will and efforts shown you!

it's so hard.

he can't answer right away, so he doesn't try, just occasionally sniffling and gulping back emotion while his back tickles with the feeling of Grey's fingers.]

[repeatedprayer]

[Right. Despite poor Manabu's best efforts, the sniffles and gulps, the fidgeting, all make it pretty obvious that there's a dam on the verge of breaking here.

Grey tilts his head down and speaks as gently as he can manage.]

You can cry if you need to. You already allowed me to do so.

[siriusly]

I don't--want t-- ['want' and 'need' are different things, and clearly signaling for different outputs in the moment: he doesn't want to let go, but he surely needs to. no matter how much progress he may have made away from the lab, the effects coupled with all the work to both move past it and drag it around with him for the sake of justice is exhausting.

so he chokes on the effort. like he chokes every time overwhelm gets at him in his waking moments (maybe it's also his fault for not having a nightmare the last time he slept to vent some of this off? much to consider). he bites off the last attempt at a syllable and hides his face against Grey, trembling out of grief instead of the cold, shame washing over him as tears eke out.]

[repeatedprayer]

[Maybe it's not a full on breakage, but it's certainly a larger crack that's forming. Grey does his best to help Manabu weather the disaster, stroking gently up and down Manabu's back and speaking whatever gentle words come to mind.]

It's alright. I know it's unpleasant. But I'll be here as long as you want me to.

[...Maybe that's too much to promise. Maybe Manabu will remember he wants to take Grey back to Destiny. But right now... it's hard to remain firm when the man he loves is trembling with grief in his arms.]

[siriusly]

[it's difficult to properly calculate the time between those breaks in weakened composure and the weariness draining grief of momentum, but Manabu eventually just doesn't have the energy to sob the way he needs to, instead just going as still as trembling misery allows while awake. even then, it's not long before fitful sleep gloms on (poor Grey, subject to even more twitchy limbs and restless rest thanks to a confined bag on the floor), and Manabu's more overwarm than cold - a sweaty, fidgety shape whose fever is only discontent.

even that wears out at some point, though not swiftly, but there's maybe an hour or two without all the twitching or stifled grumblings of fitful sleep where real rest can happen, for all the good it'll do. better than nothing, really.

the remains of those mumbled assurances, real or just wished for, linger at the edges of consciousness when Manabu blinks his eyes open and realizes he's not constrained by medical restraints - that's just Grey's body.

he's still not made any of this up yet.]

[repeatedprayer]

[Neither of them are getting much in the line of proper rest. Grey dozes on and off throughout most of the night, his thoughts rarely further than the man in his arms. While Manabu is fidgety, Grey is fairly still; however, both of them are fairly sweaty by the end of the night. It's a damn shame they're no longer staying upstairs from a laundromat.

Eventually the sun rises, climbing the sky far enough that a bit of actual sunlight penetrates the room and fills it with dim light. When Grey opens his eyes and stares blearily out across the floor, he can finally see that the carpet is green.

He feels vaguely proud of himself for being able to identify the color. Green's a tricky one.

Grey winds up staring at the carpet for a long enough period of time for it to be embarrassing before he finally shifts his head to peek down at Manabu.]

[siriusly]

[Manabu doesn't let himself move much, even though he's starting to feel the ache of lying too still. for a bit, he just listens to breath and heartbeats and the periodic settling of the building, taking stock of himself beyond pain and putting all of that back into place.

still here, still left as a byproduct of not just scientific lunatics, but the many who love and care for him. he's what's left, but not yet left behind. not yet.

he blinks against the stinging sensation of his eyes and swallows against the raw feeling in his throat.

quietly:] Are you awake?

[repeatedprayer]

[Grey honestly can't see much besides hair (and ears) but he has a feeling that Manabu's awake even before he hears the other man's voice.]

Yes.

[Grey speaks quietly as well. There's something about this morning that feels fragile, like he might break something by speaking too harshly.]

How are you feeling?

[siriusly]

[good question.]

...Not great. [...] But...better than earlier. Am I sick? [or is it just sweating to death in a sleeping bag that's doing it?]

[repeatedprayer]

I hope not. [Grey frowns, and shifts his arm before realizing that he can already feel how warm Manabu is pretty well.] Er. Why don't we get dressed and see how you feel then?

[re: get out of the portable sauna they've made.]

[siriusly]

[Manabu agrees, shifting and stilling so Grey can do the honors of untangling first before there's leeway for him to roll and wriggle free. the cool, musty air is already a balm; he feels better almost immediately and sighs gratefully for it.

he sits on his knees, hands on the floor.]

What about you? [he looks over.] Are you okay?

[repeatedprayer]

[Some awkward wriggling and scooting around later and the two of them are out in the air. The coolness of it is a relief, but Grey suspects it may quickly turn too cold, so he doesn't hesitate to start getting dressed.

As he's tugging his underwear back on, Grey shoots Manabu a look of mild surprise at the question.]

A little stiff I suppose, but not ill.

[siriusly]

[he smiles wanly.]

Thanks for the save. I, I don't think I said thanks for this one yet? Since I was so queasy before. [and then utterly miserable. pathetic, really. the fact Grey just looks surprised rather than outright disgusted is something Manabu can't take for granted.]

[repeatedprayer]

[Grey isn't sure if the save is referring to warming Manabu up, or to him taking them away from their former hideout so quickly. He focuses instead on the latter bit.]

Then I take it you're not feeling nauseous anymore? [Or at least, less nauseous, hopefully.

He picks Manabu's shirt off the floor and casually holds it out to him.]

[siriusly]

Only the normal amount for being kind of scared, eh, eheh... [the laugh is feeble, no real mirth behind it.] Pre-mission queasy, I guess.

[because this is what it is, right? the dawn on the mission.

Manabu pulls the shirt from Grey's hand, holding it in his lap for a bit, feeling a twinge.

everything will change...when they leave this building.

Grey will probably leave for good.

Manabu's smile falters in a twitch.]

...No chance I can...cook us up breakfast this time around, huh...

[repeatedprayer]

You'll be fine.

[It's an attempt to be reassuring, but with Grey's brisk tone it may come off as dismissive instead. Because Manabu will be fine! He's an experienced SDF officer with a murderous copy protecting him!

But Grey sill falters as he's tugging his pants on. He's going to miss those breakfasts with Manabu.]

...I don't think so.

[Grey hadn't even bothered to pack any food when they'd left. They don't even have any of those damned cornflakes.]

[siriusly]

[Manabu by contrast, may as well be made of molasses. it's how he gets when emotions weigh too much, even when vented to the degree they'd been. he's at least not catatonic, but he's not going to be winning any marathons at this rate, either.

the chilly hand of that old habit of immobility sure is alluring, because if he doesn't move, then they don't have to separate, right?

but that won't be good for either of them. Manabu exhales, forcing himself to pull the shirt back on, focusing on buttons before letting himself think of next steps.

next steps? pants. where...where pant.]

[repeatedprayer]

[On the floor, for the record. The same floor from which Grey has already retrieved his shirt and is now grabbing his jacket. However, seeing how slow Manabu's progress is makes him slow down a bit himself. He pauses with the jacket in hand and for a long moment simply casts a sidelong, concerned glance at Manabu.

It's fairly obvious Manabu has a lot on his mind. Grey also doubts he slept much better than Grey did. Thinking on that...]

Shall we get coffee after we leave? [Not that caffeine will be great for any jitters but.]