III

Avex tips his chair back so he can see around the doorframe, teetering between his boots braced on the tile and his tail holding the door open, and flashes a paper at Kruuxish. "Application from one of those little self-published journals, do you want a lighter interview?"

Kruuxish squints across the room at the paper, trying to read it out of habit. After a moment, he shrugs and returns to the letter he's carefully writing on his lap desk. "It's filled out properly?"

"Yeah. Unusually nice, actually, most of the little papers don't know what all of the sections are for. Have you made any enemies who would write for the Morning Relay?"

"Not that I know of."

"I'll find a slot for them, then." Avex sets it on top of the neat stack in the flimsy box hastily labelled reply. "Maybe they can bring some levity between more serious interviews."

Kruuxish hums a reply without looking up.

Avex lets the chair thunk back down as he pulls out another handful of forms to sort through. The void pile graduated from a box to a bag the day before, luckily before Fotia and Thymos got off duty. Thymos was happy to carry an obnoxious amount of papers back to the office on the way out.

Unfortunately, Avex couldn't unload the new mail on the new duo of stoic, silent professionals that took the post, and the meeting applications just kept coming in. Not surprisingly, but that didn't mean it wasn't tedious.

Kruuxish's recovery speed was a solace. With a full night of real rest - Kruuxish in the hospital bed, Avex in the hall with his chair tilted back and his legs propped up on the edge of the desk - the main structure of his prosthetics had regenerated enough for them to work. Over the course of the morning, his arm was already looking less skeletal, and while he was still obviously favoring his left leg it was reassuring to see him able to stand and walk around the room.

Which meant Avex had set him to the joyless task of writing the approval letters, though Kruuxish hadn't complained when Avex handed him a template to copy from and the small stack of applications that had passed his critical inspection. Kruuxish wasn't at his own usual writing speed, let alone Avex's, but he kept up easily enough with how many Avex had to discard.

Avex stands and walks into the room, sitting back down in the bedside chair as he scans the top form. "Does the Secretary to the Captain-General have to submit a meeting application, or does he get to skip the lines?"

Kruuxish slowly finishes the sentence he's copying before replying with a blunt hum that implies he should continue so long as he's going to be smart about it.

"You talked about... a lot of things yesterday. Some of which were concerning." Avex pops a letter open, scans the paper inside, sets it aside as a discard for its missing date. "All of them were concerning, actually, just that some of them sounded more urgent than others."

Kruuxish sets his pen aside. "I can imagine it was a lot to process. I'm sorry to have given you such little warning."

Avex waves off the concern with the form he's holding. "I'm worried about you, sir. You're up and about today, sure - and don't get me wrong, I'm happy to see it - but... well, we're told about what happened in Karnath."

His voice is ice-cold. "Yes, my reputation often precedes me."

"What we're told doesn't match up with..." Avex trails off.

"The missing limbs?" Kruuxish finishes for him.

Avex, hesitantly, nods.

Kruuxish sighs. "I would hope you've seen enough of the Bastion's political powers to recognize why those stories don't match up. We need to have an active front in Karnath, and we can't man it with constructs. A hero is better for morale than, well." He nods towards his prosthetic.

"Does it bother you?"

"The missing limbs, or the reasons for hiding them?"

"Either." Avex tilts his head. "Both."

"I don't mind the prosthetics themselves, especially not after this long." Kruuxish flexes his fingers to demonstrate, and the magic seems to glint indignantly as he pulls at the skin that doesn't quite exist yet between the half-formed scales. "I'm sure there's magic out there that would regenerate the entire limbs as they once were, but..."

"You're used to them being like this?"

He shakes his head. "Not that. It's... difficult to put words to it. The... reason for it means too much to me. I survived, and others..." he looks down at his translucent palm. "Some things shouldn't be forgotten."

Avex mentally draws up his list of Very Important Things To Very Carefully Discuss. "What if the only way to rid yourself of the Former's influence is by doing that, would you do it? Have your arm and leg regenerated, I mean."

Everything about Kruuxish's body language sharpens, though his expression remains cool and even as he considers the question. "I don't know," he says after a long moment. "I've tried not to spend too much time musing on impossible options."

Avex knows an intentional deferral when he hears one, especially from Kruuxish, and this one practically drips with the answer is no, but I'm trying to be polite about it.

"What about the reason for hiding them, then? Bothering you."

Kruuxish takes a deep breath and sighs it out. "I suppose I should know better than to expect you to be distracted that easily."

Avex waits.

"It's disgusting." Kruuxish says softly. "I may have lived, but most didn't. All of those years of loss, of struggle, and then what? They clean up the parts that other people see and parade you around to - to convince people they can be heroes. As if anyone should be forced into the same choice I was just to make it back home."

Kruuxish looks like he might continue, and when he doesn't, Avex asks, "are all of your scars from before making that deal?"

Kruuxish tilts his head slightly, seemingly considering the question before nodding hesitantly. "Most of them. The bad ones are all from the same battle." He waves vaguely towards the left side of his face and its crooked scar framed by warped scales.. "You can imagine how much of a mess this was before they realized they had a poster child in the making and started pouring resources into fixing it up, if this was as nice as they could make it. Not losing my eye was a small miracle." He pauses and huffs out a single breath of a laugh. "I wasn't entirely sure that it wasn't magical, but I think Doctor Kite would have mentioned if it was missing when I arrived."

"Who are they?"

He laughs again, harsher. "The whole chain of command responsible for sending people in who can't possibly make it back out. And now, that's me." He sneers, disgusted, an expression so alien to the Kruuxish Avex knows that it's unsettling. "I can't stop it."

"That's - you can't take full responsibility for the fighting in Karnath. That's not any one person's fault, especially not -"

"It doesn't matter." Hebroth looks down at his arms, reflecting. "I should have died there, and I've been trying to make up for it ever since."

"To make up for it?" Avex shakes his head, as if it'll make the words line up. "To make up for surviving?"

Hebroth is quiet for a long time. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Is - is it okay if I ask what happened?"

"You'd be a terrible interviewer, asking questions this gently."

"Good thing I didn't fill out the paperwork, then. I'm asking as a friend." Avex taps the stack of papers against his leg to line them up. "I know it's not my place. But I'd like to help with all of this, if I can, and I can't do that without knowing what I'm up against."

Kruuxish folds his arms and sighs. "It was.... give me a moment."

"Is it a moment to find words for it, or a moment to find a way to avoid telling me?"

Kruuxish glares at him. Avex looks, pointedly neutral, back.

"...To find words," he answers after a long moment.

Avex waits.

"The... amount my task force accomplished in Karnath is accurate. The toll is what's left unsaid." Kruuxish's hand briefly tightens around his prosthetic, a motion that doesn't quite look right in a way Avex doesn't have time to figure out. Abruptly, he jerks his head up and stares at Avex. He doesn't know what to call Hebroth's expression; the only word that comes to mind is lifeline. "Can you promise that you'll remember me?"

Avex has half a mind to leave the room, to flag down one of the doctors and ask if something else is wrong, because this isn't the Hebroth he knows. This isn't the man who put up with informal paperwork being absent-mindedly dog-eared, or having doodles in the margins. This isn't the man who carefully put his jacket over Avex's shoulders when he found him asleep at his desk. This isn't the man who bought him a stupid gods-damned novelty mug when he accidentally dropped his old one. This isn't the Hebroth who died.

This is the Hebroth that survived. This is the Hebroth with a bitterness fifteen years fresh and a resignation a decade older, and this Hebroth is a stranger.

The Captain-General isn't someone he can hold.

That's also on the Very Important Things To Very Carefully Discuss list, a faint postscript note-to-self on a list already entirely in his own head. It feels selfish to think about it too much, especially now, in this second, but he wishes he could. It's not a new feeling - gods, he hopes not, after thirty-six years - but it had been ignorable with the professional distance. And then he'd chosen to run into the line of fire of a serial killer and felt Hebroth's heart start beating and stayed awake for nearly forty-eight hours and still hadn't really slept since.

Mentally, Avex drags his hands down his face. The Captain-General. Of all people. Could not have picked a less romanceable person, let alone a less romanceable boss, if he tried.

His parents are going to kill him.

A heartbeat after Hebroth asks, Avex answers. "Of course I will."

Someone knocks on the door, and doesn't follow it up by immediately opening it, so it's not Doctor Song. Avex glances between the door and Kruuxish, but the moment is already gone.

"I'll see what it's about. I should have been in the hallway anyway." Avex stands and almost reflexively reaches out to Kruuxish's hand as he does; he makes a fist at his side instead. "That's my job, right, sir?."

Kruuxish doesn't reply as Avex crosses the room and opens the door. The guard waiting outside salutes Avex's collarbone, and then realizes he's talking to the wrong dragonborn and looks further up.

"Someone in the waiting room asking to see the Captain-General, sir. Says his name is Auburn, and that the Captain-General will know him?" They make a valiant effort at a frown while trying to maintain their professional neutrality. "He wouldn't give us any more details until we asked General Kruuxish."

Avex steps back a bit from the door so the guard can see in while he talks to Kruuxish. "Do you know an Auburn?"

Kruuxish is immediately more alert. "I do. Human, middle aged, brown hair, possibly in a wheelchair?"

The guard nods.

"Yes, invite him in."

The guard salutes - past Avex, at the correct height - and leaves to fetch him. Kruuxish is already moving his lap desk aside; Avex leans out into the hall to drop his papers in the correct piles and then turns back to him.

"Making appointments without me?" Avex teases.

Kruuxish laughs, looking almost embarrassed. "Nothing so... serious. I didn't expect him to come here. I didn't want anyone to feel - I didn't invite him."

"I don't think I've heard you mention an Auburn before," Avex leans on the foot of the bed. "Old friend of yours?"

"You're full of questions today," Kruuxish says. Avex holds back on replying with a bitter well, if you'd asked me last week, I would have thought I already had answers. "Auburn was deployed with me for a time in Karnath. He was my second in command in the field. We kept in touch."

"It may be out of line for me to ask, but is the wheelchair use related?"

Kruuxish shakes his head. "That was years later, something that runs in the family. He's open about it, if you want to ask him."

"I... don't think it would be appropriate," Avex shrugs it off. "I just wondered, because of..."

"I met Auburn after," Kruuxish says softly.

Someone is running down the hall, and it slams all other thoughts out of Avex's mind. His hand goes to his hip, trying to find a blade that isn't there. Of course it's not there; he hasn't even had a ceremonial weapon in - gods, has it been years now?

A moment later: why did I reach for a weapon?

The running feet stumble to a stop outside of the door and it opens, slightly.

"Remember to knock!" Someone shouts from down the hall, fondly reprimanding.

The door slams shut and, tentatively, there are two small knocks.

Avex glances towards Kruuxish. He's moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and despite the fact that Avex knows he's exhausted, he looks... normal. Avex is used to seeing him in full uniform, but for today he's been reduced to a short-sleeved shirt and loose pants, with one leg rolled up past the prosthetic (doctor's orders; the regeneration hadn't caught any stray fabric yet, but Song didn't want to take any chances). If Avex didn't know any better, he'd have thought Hebroth was an ordinary patient, here for ordinary reasons.

He's smiling, and Avex realizes that the reason he looks so comfortable is because this time it's genuine.

"Come in," he says, and Avex can hear the happiness in his voice.

The door opens and - unexpectedly - two children run into the room, looking embarrassed but excited.

"Uncle Hebroth!" They both shout.

Avex knows he's staring.

The kids don't seem to care - the most reaction he gets is one brief, awed stare upwards from the one that's about four-foot-nothing - and they stop awkwardly in front of Hebroth for a moment before he pats the bed beside him and they happily scramble up to sit.

Their parent - presumably - wheels in a minute later, thanking one of the guards for holding the door as he does. Avex expected someone more... dramatic, given what Hebroth has implied about Karnath, but Auburn looks like anyone else, not in a bad way. He notes Avex's presence without being visibly surprised, but he has the sense that Auburn is trying to recall what Hebroth might have mentioned before he looks at Hebroth himself. He laughs and shakes his head when he sees the kids have already wormed their way half-into Hebroth's lap.

"Remember to be gentle with his arm, you two. It's still healing." As the kids settle down a bit, he gives Hebroth a mock-salute. "Thanks for letting me in, Cap."

"I wouldn't turn you away. It feels like it's been ages." Hebroth gently squeezes the shoulders of the kids who have snuggled up under his arms. "You two had birthdays last month, right?"

Auburn nods. "Ross, he turned eight, and Avery, she turned seven."

He glances to Avex as he finishes the sentence, as if to make sure Avex caught it. Avex nods and smiles politely, grateful for the consideration.

"You know we had birthdays, you gave us presents!" Ross exclaims. "You sent me the new Owls of Time book and you sent Avery some watercolors!"

"Oh, did I?" Hebroth sighs dramatically. "You know how we old people get, so forgetful."

Auburn rolls his eyes, equally dramatic, as the kids giggle and protest. "You can't say things like that, you're slandering me and - Avex, was it?"

"Avex, yes." He shakes Auburn's hand as it's offered. "I'm his secretary."

"And a devoted one, if the desk in the hall is any indicator," he pauses, seeing Avex's expression change. "Oh, don't worry, it didn't block the chair at all. More than enough space. Cap's told me a lot about you, it's nice to finally meet you in person."

"Good things, I hope?"

"Oh, of course, of course. Between you and me, I don't think he," Auburn not-so-covertly points at Hebroth, "has it in him to be rude about anyone."

Avex thinks back to some of the meetings he's had to sit in on and, more specifically, the complaints he's heard once they're back in the privacy of his office.

"Absolutely," he lies. "A real charmer."

"You think so?" Auburn says, in a tone that is definitely more teasing than it was a moment ago. "I've always thought of him just being polite."

Avex checks to see if Hebroth is paying attention, but he seems entirely engaged with listening to Ross retell what is presumably the plot to the book he mentioned. There's a lot of avian screeching going on.

"We just work together." Avex says to Auburn.

"I didn't mean to presume," Auburn says, and damn him for sounding so honest about it. "I was just... surprised to see you here, when you could have been doing this from the Bastion. Cap doesn't seem like he'd order you to stay."

"He didn't."

Auburn looks at him thoughtfully. "Well. I'm sure he's grateful."

"Are you two done gossiping?" Hebroth says, louder than he needs to. "You're missing out on the dramatic recounting of Bloodfeather's triumph against the... what was it?"

Ross sighs, as if the answer should be obvious. "Against the Death Bats of the Barren Valley."

"I've been avoiding spoilers, actually," Avex says quickly. "I'm still, uh, a few books behind. But, um, I've been sitting at a desk all day, so I should go for a walk anyway, and I'll be back later."

"You can stay," Hebroth says gently.

Avex shakes his head, already backing up towards the door. "No, it's - it's fine. I don't want to interrupt."

He tries to leave casually and politely: closing the door behind him, waving at the two door guards in a way that vaguely suggests a salute, hooking his thumbs into his pockets as he walks down the hallway until he can turn the corner.

It hits him as he does that this is the furthest he's been from the hospital room since Hebroth arrived in it. He leans his back against the wall and then slides down it, sitting forehead to his knees and tail curled tightly around his feet.

Seeing Hebroth happy feels like a violation, and he doesn't want to put words to why.

He knows the why, because everyone keeps telling him about it. He's not supposed to be here. The fact that he's here at all is because nobody's been bold enough to really try to remove him, and they have more important things to deal with if he stays out of the way. Kruuxish has barely been well enough to hold a conversation, let alone well enough to argue with him until he leaves.

No, that's a lie. Kruuxish wouldn't have to argue with him. It's not his place to argue with an order from the Captain-General; he was hired to help, and if helping means leaving then it's a bitter pill he'll swallow.

Kruuxish hasn't asked him to leave. He's not sure Hebroth knows the weight of asking him to stay.

And there shouldn't be a weight, because this is the Captain-General and Avex is his secretary and it wasn't supposed to be any more complicated than that and he wasn't supposed to get shot -

"Are you feeling alright?" Doctor Song asks.

Avex lifts his head and tries to smile reassuringly. Doctor Song's ears flick back briefly, unnerved. He sighs. "The past few days have been a strain."

"I can only imagine. It's good to see you walking around, though. I take it General Kruuxish is feeling better? I heard he had guests waiting for a visit."

"They're with him right now, which is why I'm... taking a walk. I'm sure they wouldn't mind you stepping in if you have to talk to him, though."

They look vaguely towards Kruuxish's room, tilt their head thoughtfully, and then turn back to Avex. "I wanted to talk to you, actually, if you don't mind."

"Oh. No, I don't mind." Avex pushes himself to his feet. "What's it about?"

They don't answer right away, and in that hesitation Avex feels his heart stop.

"Let's walk, Avex." Song waves him along as they turn away from Hebroth's room. "Moribund has an excellent garden space, and I'd like to get some use out of it today before that storm that's been looming finally breaks."

They don't seem to be expecting a response, so Avex just follows their lead in silence. It's not the way he came in; Song knows the hospital far better, not surprisingly, and after a few long hallways that look almost the same they step into one that is markedly different.

There's a small garden in the center of the hospital, open to the sky, and the four sides of the building that face it are paned in large windows. The tile is washed in gray-blue light from the overcast sun.

"It's good for morale, patients and doctors," Song explains as they open the nearest door. "We don't have any flowers - allergies and sensitivities, of course - but the green space and some sunlight can do wonders for stress. There's some tables over near the middle that we can sit at. Your pick."

Avex nods and heads to the closest one, looking warily at the gray sky. Song follows him, sitting across from him and setting a small rectangle of cardstock on the table.

"First things first, General Kruuxish has chosen you as his emergency contact. We discussed it when I was checking his bandages this morning, before you woke up. You just need to sign this." Song taps the paper and fishes out the stub of a pencil from their pocket. "Sorry it's not something more formal."

"It's fine." Avex takes it and turns the paper around to read the brief blurb of text on it. "What does this entail?"

"In another emergency situation, you would be the primary contact for General Kruuxish and would be able to grant access to his records. You may also be requested to make choices on his behalf in relation to his medical care, if he's unable to do so for himself at the time. He should provide you with contact information for other family members and friends, but he's been told that part already."

Avex signs his name before Song is through their first sentence. "Isn't this where you reassure me that it shouldn't be necessary?"

They clasp their hands on the worn table. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Somewhere in the city, a bell tolls.

The claw on Avex's thumb punches a hole through the corner of his signature. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Be his emergency contact," Song offers. "Be there for him. And... we'll see how that goes."

"Does he know?"

"He knows most of it, yes. I'll be going over it with him in full after he's done with his visit, but... he's aware of the severity of the problem. Seemed to expect the news. He specifically requested that I tell you the same information." Song gives him a long, sympathetic look. "It's a lot to take in, and I'm sorry all of this has happened so abruptly, for both of you. I have to get back to work, but you can spend as much time out here as you need."

Avex stands abruptly enough that it makes the table scrape across the stone tiles. "I've had - this was long enough. Thank you."

"Do you need me to show you the way back to Kruuxish's room?"

Avex shakes his head. "I remember it."

Retracing his steps is easy; he doesn't want to think about confronting what's at the end of them. He rounds the last corner to see the two kids scribbling on something on his desk, with one of the guards looming ceremoniously over their shoulders. Ross is constantly talking to the guard, who definitely does not seem to be replying, while Avery remains quiet and focused on... whatever it is they're doing.

The guards straighten up a bit as Avex approaches, but he slows before passing the desk. The door is cracked open - probably so Auburn can ensure the kids are still in the hall - and their conversation, while quiet, is close enough to hear.

It's not appropriate for a military official to be eavesdropping so blatantly, especially not in front of subordinates and civilians.

Avex leans against the table, watches Avery draw precise feathers on a portrait of an owl on paper that doesn't seem to be government stationary, and listens.

Hebroth's voice still has a smile in it. "I don't suppose you heard about Alrel's early separation going through?"

"Heard about it?" Auburn laughs. "She came to me asking for a job. I'll admit, I didn't expect her to stick around a place like the veteran's office, especially not as a pen pusher."

"And what did you expect from Corporal Sacru?"

"I don't know. Sheep, maybe? I could see her out in some field, yelling at some of those big fluffy dogs."

"I don't believe sheep are canines."

"You know I was talking about the dogs that herd sheep."

"I know, I know. How has the office been handling a new face?"

There's a moment of hesitation. "It's... always hard when a new person comes back from the front, Cap, you know that. But she's adjusting well, and being around all of the stubborn bastards she's already familiar with helps. If you're not busy sometime, you should drop in, say hello."

Hebroth's sigh is audible from the hallway. "Unfortunately, the Captain-General is always busy."

"That's why I'm not going to heckle you about it. But... really, Cap, try and fit a break in for yourself one of these days. You look exhausted. I'm sure the Bastion won't fall apart if you take some time off."

If Hebroth replies to that, it's too quiet to hear.

"Your secretary seems more than capable of handling things while you're away, especially if it's only a short vacation." Auburn says. "How long has it been since you hired him, now? A year?"

"A little less than that," Hebroth corrects. "I trust Avex completely, but I couldn't put that pressure on anyone. I don't mind the work."

"I get the feeling he wouldn't mind the work if it meant you could rest." Another thoughtful pause. "How close are you two? Has he been here since...?"

"He's barely been out of line of sight since the attack. I... we're..." Hebroth trails off. "We both care for each other's well-being."

Avex imagines Auburn has nodded, or the following silence would be long enough to be awkward. After another moment, Auburn speaks again. "I don't want to overstay my welcome, and you look like you need the rest, so I'll head out once Avex is back. I know you don't have a lot of time, but would you be able to manage a dinner later tonight? I can't imagine they want you back at the Bastion as soon as you step out."

"I'm afraid I can't host. I don't think I'm - I haven't exactly had time to restock the pantry."

"Oh, I wouldn't intrude on that. I was inviting you over to my place. I assume you haven't forgotten where that is, the same way you forgot birthday gifts?"

"That would be... kind of you. I'll let you know if I have the energy..."

"Hey, I get it. If you're exhausted, you're exhausted. I'd rather you rest."

It's been long enough. Avex walks through the door like he'd never paused, smiling awkwardly as he does. "I'm not interrupting, am I?"

"No, not at all," Auburn answers before Hebroth can. "I was just waiting for you to get back. Didn't want to leave Cap all on his lonesome."

"You don't have to do that," Hebroth says as Auburn calls the kids in to say their goodbyes.

Avery solemnly hands him the owl drawing and leans up against his side. Ross hugs him with an exuberance expected from wrestling bears.

"Thank you for the book, Uncle Cap!" Ross shouts.

Hebroth flinches so gently that Avex is sure Auburn didn't see. He ruffles Ross's hair with his non-magical hand. "I'm Uncle Hebroth to you."

Ross giggles. "Yes Uncle Hebroth, sir!"

Avex winces with him on that one.

"Let me know about tonight, okay?" Auburn says as he follows the kids out of the room. "It was nice to spend some time with you, after so long."

"I'll do what I can," Hebroth replies and waves him out.

The door closes, and Hebroth unsteadily lies down over the covers, breathing heavily. Avex sits down on the foot of the bed and looks at him fretfully until it evens.

"I'm fine," Kruuxish says after a long while. "It just... took more out of me than I expected."

Avex can almost taste the bitterness in his voice. "Than you expected?"

Kruuxish looks away. "Doctor Song talked to you, I assume?"

"Doctor Song talked to me, yes." Avex's tail bumps against the leg of the bed as he fidgets. "It's - I - you should have told me."

He doesn't answer.

"How long has this been going on for? How long have you known?" Avex takes a deep breath, forcing air through the tightness of his throat. "If you weren't shot, were you even going to tell anyone?"

Hebroth looks at his hands.

Avex draws another, shakier breath. "...Were you even going to tell me?"

"It's inevitable," Hebroth says quietly. "I didn't want anyone wasting time looking for a solution that didn't exist."

"You just sent an adventuring party to -"

"And how long do you think it will take them to return?" Hebroth cuts through his sentence without raising his voice.

"It doesn't matter." Avex stares down the too-sharp line of Hebroth's jaw, as if it'll make him look back. "I don't care if I have to - to fucking scrape together mages from across the continent to burn through diamonds fifty times a day. I'll -"

"It's out of your hands." Hebroth snaps.

Avex looks away.

"It's... it's out of anyone's hands." He sighs and rubs at his eyes. "I've been cleared to leave Moribund today. There's nothing else they can do for me here."

"That's not possible."

"One of the nurses brought some boxes over when they were getting paper for Ross and Avery. If you put everything away, I'll send someone to pick up the boxes tonight so they'll be in the office for tomorrow."

Avex shakes his head. "Shut up about paperwork. What do you mean they can't do anything for you? There has to be something -"

Hebroth ignores him as he sits up, slowly and stiffly, and unsteadily stands. "I'll be in the office for a few hours this afternoon to make sure everything is in order before the work day ends."

"You're going back to work?" Avex sputters.

"I've already taken too much time off." Kruuxish frowns at him from the head of the bed, and his expression is only a slight distraction from the desperate, shaky grip he has on the frame to stay upright.

"It's been two days," The tightness in his chest flares into a painful anger. "And you - you died."

"That hasn't given me a day off before."

"Wow," Avex stares at him, incredulous. "You know, before all of this, I thought I had problems. And now you've died and you think two days is an extended recovery, on top of the - the everything else?"

"I have responsibilities."

Avex rolls his eyes. "So does everyone else! And most of the time when they die they get a little bit of a rest from it!"

Hebroth glances down at his arm, still skeleton-thin as the magic weaves itself back into cords of muscle and scale, and when he looks back to Avex he looks immeasurably tired. "I don't have time to rest, Avex."

The sheets are stark and cold where sunlight cuts across them.

"...Of course, sir," Avex says, voice feeling too loud in the silence. "I was out of line. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

The Captain-General flinches, a recoil in the muscle of his jaw like he's been struck, and turns away. Avex can't read his expression from this angle, but it's easy enough to see the tension in the rest of him.

"You have the rest of the day off," he says, after a silence too long to measure. "I'll see you in the office tomorrow."

"Yes, sir."

Hebroth looks briefly back at him, and then the Captain-General takes the cane from beside the bed and cautiously limps from the room. The door clicks shut behind him.

Avex frowns at the door, frowns at the ceiling, frowns back at the door, and then pulls the blankets off the unmade bed and folds them in precise squares so whenever the staff come by to launder them it'll be a little easier. He frowns at the now-folded blankets for good measure before leaving the room. Shoving the few loose papers into boxes and grabbing the last of his supplies from the desk only takes a few seconds, and then he sets off at a half-jog down the hall.

This is stupid. All of this is stupid and complicated and something he shouldn't be tangled up in, especially not like this. The running helps; for a brief moment, he thinks of being decades younger and stomping through a house he hasn't lived in for years, and he consciously slows his pace at the memory.

He catches up to Kruuxish as he's opening the door to leave, and neither of them say anything as Avex reaches over his shoulder to hold it open while he limps outside into an evening dark and heavy with the threat of rain. The extra pair of guards waiting under the overhang of the hospital entryway break off from their posts by the door and fall into step with the Captain-General, one side slightly ahead and one side slightly behind. Avex lingers at Kruuxish's elbow.

Kruuxish is obviously intent on simply reaching the Bastion; he's not talkative by any stretch of the imagination, but a total silence is out of character. Avex watches him with a concern he hopes is subtle, but from the grim focus in Kruuxish's expression he likely wouldn't notice if Avex was leaning over his shoulder like a fretful gargoyle.

The first words he speaks after leaving the hospital room are halfway to the Bastion, as they pass through one of the inner guard posts, and they're simply, "you're dismissed."

The two guards salute and take up new positions on either side of the gate, though their Bastion-red uniforms look distinctly out of place next to the guards already there in Horizon purple. It's usually something the Captain-General would note; Avex has to restrain himself from shooting the two guards a thankful glance for not calling attention to it.

The two of them continue down the street alone, with the Bastion looming ever-taller over the outer buildings of the Presage. Evenings are quiet already without an impending storm, and the overcast sky isn't a welcoming one.

Kruuxish jolts beside him, and his balance wavers as he slows to glance up. "Felt rain," he mutters.

Avex wants to still be angry at all of - of this - but he bites it back and simply tilts his head to look curiously at Kruuxish.

"It does tend to come from storm clouds." Avex shrugs. "I don't suppose you're in a state to race it home?"

Kruuxish lowers his gaze back to the road ahead and resumes his walk. "No."

Avex folds his arms behind his back and stands up straighter, steadfastly ignoring the worsening rain. "As your devoted assistant, I would be happy to carry y-"

"No." He pauses. "I told you to go home, didn't I?"

"You told me I have the day off, sir. I'm simply choosing to spend it in your company."

Kruuxish sighs. "Of course you are."

"It's simply chance that I, a mere Jorennian citizen, happened to be heading in the same direction you were. Some might call it fate, even, or destiny." Avex steps ahead of Hebroth and turns around, walking backwards. "And my destiny includes not accidentally leaving my nice pens in the kitchen tomorrow," he rattles them in his pocket, " which would happen if I were to go straight home -"

The dim street flashes with a roll of thunder, and the rain abruptly pelts down in icy sheets.. Kruuxish swears.

"Oh, come here." Avex stops and starts pulling his jacket off.

Kruuxish rolls his eyes. "Did you just remember you were off duty?"

Avex drapes it over his head and holds it up in front of him. "You just got out of the hospital, and I'm not sending you back for pneumonia. Shut up and get under here."

"You're going to be soaking wet."

Avex sighs in exasperation and steps up to Hebroth, blocking at least some of the rain. He realizes after doing this just how close it brings them; he has to arch his neck up so he isn't almost kissing Hebroth's forehead.

Well, it would just be kissing; Hebroth's looking up back up at him, startled and a little confused.

It would be incredibly easy to close that space.

The downpour absolutely soaking his back in a pre-winter chill is a welcome distraction. He smiles sheepishly. "Being tall has its benefits. You'll just have to stick close to me."

Slowly, as if reluctant from the rain, the streetlamps begin to brighten, and the storm-dark is broken by their warm glow glinting off of the downpour and gently haloing over the wet pavestones. The little shelter between them is amber-gold.

And then it all hits at once, the light and Hebroth under him and the damp on his hands, on his shirt, and he all but throws the coat over Hebroth's shoulders as he recoils. He tries to wipe his hands dry on his pants but it doesn't work, and everything is too bright, and his heart feels like it's trying to burst out of his chest, and -

Hebroth grabs his forearm and hauls him sideways off of the street, jacket over his other arm. His breath hisses through clenched teeth until a gap between the buildings opens up into a small shelter; an empty run-in shed with a hitching post and a thin layer of dusty straw.

Hebroth all but collapses, sitting in the nearest clear space, and tugs Avex down beside him.

"It's water," Hebroth wheezes as he gets his breath back. "Avex, listen to me. It's not - it's just water. It's just rain."

Avex's thoughts click back into place as Hebroth says his name - Hebroth, speaking, alive, alive. "Fuck," he mutters. "Fuck, sir, I'm sorry -"

"Don't be." Hebroth sets his head back against the wall, looking up at the roof. Rain drums on the street outside. "I, ah, I've been there."

Avex looks up with him, an aimless stare at the whorls in the wood grain of the beams. It takes him a second to realize both that he's shaking and that Hebroth's hand is still resting over his wrist. He doesn't move it; it would probably be embarrassing to draw attention to.

Hebroth's voice catches as he goes to say something and changes his mind. He adds after a brief pause, "when you have to bathe, give yourself time to get used to a wet washcloth before you try going back to actual water."

"I'll... keep that in mind." There's a tightness in his chest that he doesn't have a name for, and it's staunchly refusing his attempts to detangle it. "Thank you. And I'm sorry for earlier. It was... a lot to learn."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Can I be honest with you, sir?"

Hebroth gives him a worried look, but nods.

Avex swallows.

A week ago, I thought everything was fine, or at least normal levels of difficult, and now I've learned that you made a deal with something I've never heard of for abilities nobody's ever heard of, and I don't know where to go from here. No, correct it -

I don't know how to deal with the fact that you died and I saved your life, and the person who tried to kill you is still out there and I don't know if we have the power to stop them a second time. No.

There should have been more guards. There should have been more help. I shouldn't have been alone -

I thought I knew who you were, and now I -

I think I -

"I know the song in your music box." Avex says abruptly, after a silence too long. "When me and my sister were little, and mom and dad were busy, one of their family friends would come and babysit. That was the song they used to sing when putting us to bed. Listener - my sister - refused to fall asleep, the first time, until they told us what the lyrics meant."

"I've only ever heard it from the music box," Hebroth admits, voice soft. "But I've known it that way for almost as long as I can remember."

Avex laughs weakly. "You've got a few years on me. Maybe we learned it at the same time."

Hebroth's grip tightens, briefly, over his arm. "Maybe."

"I don't remember the translation word for word," Avex hurries to add, "but it's about someone - someone who goes off to war. And the person who loves them who can't fight, but who is willing to... give up everything for them. To make sure they return safe."

Hebroth is quiet.

"I'm sorry, it's - I didn't mean to be annoying -"

"No," Hebroth interrupts. "I was just... surprised. I'd never known the name of it, and I hadn't ever..." he pauses for a long moment, "I hadn't played it for anyone since..." Hebroth begins to trail off, lost in a memory far older than Avex has any right to inquire about.

"I'm glad I picked it up."

He snaps back to reality, "...I'm glad you did, too. Thank you." Hebroth shifts, trying to get more comfortable on the stone floor. "And thank you for staying. I know it can't have been easy."

"I can't imagine doing anything else."

"Can... may I ask how you were able to revive me? The report that the party gave Ignis wasn't specific, and I know you're not a mage."

Avex tugs at the collar of his shirt with his free hand. "It was - this is going to sound stupid. When I moved out, like, actually moved out, not just for school, mom and dad gave me this necklace that - it was, like, something they'd had since I was barely a lizard - that was enchanted to, um, to save a life. They told me the actual details when I got it, but it's been, um, fifteen or so years? And I just - I only remembered that it was for reviving someone. It was, like, for if I ever got into an accident, or... something."

"I'm sorry that I took something so special from you."

"That you t- no, no, you didn't take anything. I... I wanted to help you." Avex forces a smile. "It was the right thing to do. And I think my parents would be more pissed at me if I didn't use it on someone who needed it."

"Especially not the Captain-General?" Hebroth asks halfheartedly.

"Honestly? I don't think it would matter to them. It wouldn't matter to me." Avex considers his next words carefully. "When... when I ran out from backstage and saw you, I didn't see you as the Captain-General. You were just..."

"Just Hebroth?" He offers.

Avex nods. "You... I mean, I was nervous when you first hired me, obviously. Who wouldn't be? But we're almost at our workiversary now -"

"Nobody calls it that." Hebroth says out of habit.

"- and it's... I... I care about you. I care about our friendship. Why wouldn't I help you?"

Hebroth doesn't answer.

The rain continues to fall.

Long minutes pass before Hebroth breaks the silence. "Auburn wanted me to visit him this evening, so we could talk more comfortably over dinner. Would you...?"

It's an invitation that's easy to accept. Avex can picture it, or at least try to, if he ignores that he doesn't know what the room would look like. The thought of preparing a meal elbow to elbow with him, with kids the next room over laughing and shouting, and the rain coming down on windows instead of a wood-shingle roof is a thought so comforting he's scared he'll break it.

We both care about each other's well-being.

"I should probably head home," Avex says quietly. "My housemate's probably going to claim the bigger bedroom if I'm away for much longer."

"Not urgent enough to run through the rain, I hope?" Hebroth asks.

"No." Avex rests his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. "I can wait until the rain stops."

"This concludes the broadcasts covering the third day of the Sunfall Conference," the announcer says cheerfully, a dozen times over on jade screens throughout the city. "We'll see you again tomorrow."

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