III

He doesn't expect it to feel as painful as it does. The day after the argument is uncomfortable and tense with quiet, and the day that follows is only more unsettling. By the third, he feels the distance Avex has been giving him like it's a physical tear.

He can see when they talk, always briefly, that Avex is trying to be polite, respectful, trying to keep from overstepping by not letting himself step close at all. It must be chafing at Avex's habits far more than it does at his own; he can see the sentences Avex catches at the last second, the casual fidgets he tries to stifle. He appreciates the effort, even if the end result stings, even if he doesn't want the effort..

And despite the avoidance, Avex still puts a meal on his desk, three times a day. In return, if Avex doesn't want to mention that he's been all but living out of the office... well, that business remains his own. He can't bring himself to confront Avex about it, or deny him the overtime pay, especially when he's keeping himself clean and not disturbing anyone.

He knows the Bastion has other showers than the one in his personal quarters - of course it does - but there's still a lingering sense of disappointment when he returns to his desk without having seen Avex at his door.

The apartment feels just as empty as it has since he moved into it, and it still hurts.

He shoves the thought away and folds his hands on his desk, and a moment later Avex knocks on the open door as he leads their guest in. He recognizes Marianne, as expected, though he'd forgotten either her height or Avex's; she only comes up to his secretary's chest, even with his slouch, and the dramatic difference between them makes her appear far younger than he knows she is.

She also looks conflicted, which he can understand, though she is making a valiant attempt at hiding it. Her expression is certainly easier to read than Avex's, whose usually dramatic gestures are cordially subdued. He nods politely to him before he returns to the other room and his own desk.

"I hope you've already had your new duties explained to you," he begins without preamble.

"Yes, sir." She answers quickly, tone crisp and clear. Practiced. It doesn't stop her eyes from dropping, briefly, worriedly, to his chest.

He clears his throat, ensuring her attention has returned. "I can assure you that the injuries I sustained during the attack have been mended, if you have lingering concerns."

"I'm glad to hear that, sir. I apologize for my distraction. It won't happen again."

"It's a reasonable curiosity." He sighs. "Could you close the door, please?"

She pivots on her heel and walks over to the door, in a practiced step he knows he could match if he was confident in his ability to stand. She nods - presumably to Avex - as she closes it, and then pivots again to return to his desk.

"Thank you. Do you know why I selected you for this position?"

She says nothing.

"This is not an interrogation, or a command," he prompts. "I would like to know your thoughts."

She frowns, so fleetingly he almost misses it. "I assume it has to do with my actions at The Lady of Spring, sir."

"It does. At the time of the attack, only three members of the Jorennian military appeared to be present in any capacity, and - unfortunately - one of those three did not survive. Of the remaining two, one was Avex, who was not present as a member of security to begin with, and the other was yourself. As I'm sure you can imagine, the numbers originally assigned to the event were much more substantial."

She nods, despite going pale at the mention of the attack.

"I selected you not for any particular martial skill, though I have been told you are not lacking in swordsmanship, but for the simple reason that you were still there when the attack occurred, and for your choice in remaining to help despite the danger." He pauses. "I selected you because you are one of few people I believe I can trust, despite how little contact we have had with each other in the past."

It takes her a moment to find her voice. "Y-yes, sir."

"I believe it's highly unlikely that you will be forced to put yourself in danger on my behalf a second time, and should the event occur where protecting me puts your life at risk, I am telling you now - as an order - to save yourself."

"Sir?"

He tries to keep his tone even and his eyes on her, but the door - and Avex beyond it - is a constant pull on his attention. "I am... avoiding unnecessary risks, and should be able to protect myself to the extent needed if another conflict occurs. I do not need you to fight on my behalf. I need you to provide medical assistance."

"I'm not qualified -"

"I cannot select someone who is." He says, his tone ending her argument. "Employing a personal guard is understandable at this time, and a more extreme selection would not be. I won't ask you to perform miracles, as I know that is beyond what you have been trained to do. I require you to remain within shouting distance, and to keep your standard equipment on hand and fully prepared for use at all times if necessary. Is that understood?"

"Absolutely, sir."

"You do not have to remain at attention - Avex or I can get you a chair or a desk either inside or outside of the office - but, if it's possible, I would like to have you within a reachable distance for most hours of the day. I can arrange any residence here that you require to complete this task outside of regular work hours."

"Yes, sir." She pauses again, a visible hesitation. "May I speak plainly, sir?"

"Please, do."

"For you to require this from me," she says quietly, "may I ask how necessary you believe this will be?"

He holds eye contact, steady, steady, thumb pressed against his folded hands to keep it from showing that it's trembling. "...it's necessary."

"Of course. Thank you, sir."

"Will that be all?"

She nods.

"In that case, you're dismissed for the time being. I expect you to be here at the start of work hours tomorrow. Please inform myself or Avex if you need anything in the meantime."

"Yes, sir."

She salutes and leaves the room, closing the door again behind her. He can hear the muffled sound of conversation through the wall, though he can't make out the words. He trusts Avex to pass on anything important, anyway.

Instead, he uses the privacy to try and massage better feeling into his arm; the magic prickles with a numbness that comes and goes, an unsettling difference to the ache of his leg that he's familiar with. He tries, while he rubs his thumb in circles against his palm, to ignore what that might mean.

After a minute or two, the conversation in the other room quiets, and a few minutes after that Avex knocks at the door.

He rests his hands back on his desk. "Come in."

"Just the revised schedule for this week," Avex says as he opens it and crosses the room, a paper in one hand and two mugs of coffee hooked on to the fingers of the other. "Had to shift some of the smaller interviews around since the Council meeting got moved up to tomorrow morning, but unless someone decides to reschedule again I think it should all be settled."

He clears a space for Avex to carefully set down one mug, and takes the paper and its foreboding amount of text. "Thank you. I'm sorry to have given you such short notice."

Avex snorts. "You couldn't exactly give me a week's notice on this one, sir. It's fine."

"Still. I appreciate your dedication."

"It's why you hired me." He stirs his own coffee - the only one of the two with a spoon - and shrugs. "I've still got requests to sort, so I should get back to it. I'd appreciate it if you could give that," he gestures with the mug towards the schedule, "a look over just to make sure I haven't double booked you, some time before the end of the day?"

He misses the teasing back and forth more than he could have ever expected. "I'll do that now. Thank you."

Avex salutes - still with the mug - and turns to leave.

He scans the names and times, all organized in Avex's tidy, angular handwriting. He frowns as his eyes catch on a name he doesn't expect to see, and looks up to find Avex is already almost back out the door. The professional part of him, clinging to its need for distance, loses its grip as everything piled underneath makes a frantic grasp for the shred of normalcy he has left.

"Avex."

Avex straightens with an almost cautious slowness as he looks over his shoulder. "Is something wrong?"

"I noticed something," he says, forcing his voice to be calm, to mask the recklessness.

His fidgeting with the mug freezes mid-stir. "Yes, sir?"

"It appears the interview tomorrow is being hosted by a Ms. Lumivarax. Someone you know?"

He sips at his coffee and almost jabs himself in the eye with the spoon. "Ms. Lumivarax is my sister."

"That's reassuring. For a moment, I was concerned that I'd forgotten you were married."

"I - no. Any Lumivarax I can name is a relative. Except for," he pauses, "no, he kept his own last name after the split. Only relatives."

"You were married once, then?"

Avex laughs, faintly. "No, no, no, not me. My sister was, for a while, but work got in the way. Left each other on... good terms. You know how it happens sometimes." His tail taps against the back of his boot, a muffled sound on the softened leather. "She's, uh, she's got two kids. About," he hovers his free hand beside his hip, "this tall. I, uh, I bet you'd get along with them."

"I'm sure I would." He makes himself look at his desk instead of at Avex. "Would you prefer if I find someone else to transcribe the interview? I wouldn't want to create any familial tension."

"No, sir, it won't be a problem. We both understand there's necessary distance between," he pauses, wincing as if he's bitten his tongue, and corrects his wording. "There won't be any conflicts between our personal and work lives during her visit."

"Of course. I apologize, I didn't mean to imply that either of you would be unprofessional." It almost hurts to say; the formality digs into him like claws. "Is there anything I should know before the interview?"

"Nothing really." Avex looks worried enough as he shrugs that he knows it's a lie. "She'll just be, you know, in business mode. Don't expect a lot of small talk. Answer things..."

"Truthfully?" He prompts when Avex trails off.

"Well, don't lie." Avex raises an eyebrow, and for a moment, things are the way they're supposed to be. "Come on, sir, I don't have to tell you that one, do I?"

He huffs out a single breath of a laugh. "And here I thought you liked things being double-checked?"

Avex grimaces with a dramatic sigh, realizes what he's doing, and subdues the expression down to an exaggerated frown. "Listener's good at... figuring things out. It's why she - that's not relevant. Just be ready for questions that are more direct than usual."

"Don't make it sound so ominous," he teases. "You're acting like you two are scheming against me."

Avex's eyes dart to the schedule resting over his other papers, even though it's half-covered by his hand where he'd been prepared to pen in specific notes.

"Of course not, sir." Avex says a second later.

He decides to change the topic rather than press Avex's hesitancy; this feels like the longest conversation they've had since the garden, and he doesn't want to end it. He doesn't want to make another mistake. "Does your sister use a pen name for her work?"

"What?" Avex looks at him a little blankly, as if he didn't expect the subject to change either. "Um, no, I don't think she does."

"You've called her Listener, which isn't the name on her application. Unless you have two sisters?"

"Oh. Yeah, no, you're right, I only have the one sister. Listener's just a family nickname from when she was little." Avex looks at him in concern, and then has to look away as his expression softens. "Sorry, I was confused that you didn't know already, but, um, I guess you're an only child, huh?"

He has to look down at his hands.

"Out of line," Avex chides himself under his breath, too loud in the silence between them, and moves to leave. "I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, it's... I won't be upset with you for being used to having a sister." He worries at the stiff seam of his gloves with two claws. "Hebroth is something similar, actually."

Avex stops with his hand on the doorknob.

The music box in his front pocket is a familiar weight against his side, as heavy as an anchor. "The family I had in Shenlor helped me to... figure out who I was. There was a while where I was between names, trying to decide how I wanted to be known, and they, ah... they gave me a lot of nicknames in the meantime, you know, so they had something to call me." He can feel the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and for once, doesn't feel like he has to hide it. "It's a stupid thing to hold on to for all of these years, but... I really liked the soup."

He looks up as Avex makes a terrible, garbled noise, and doesn't know what to do when he realizes Avex is crying.

"It's - it's fine, I'm okay, I'm sorry," Avex stammers through it, trying to cover his face and wipe at his eyes at the same time. "Sorry, it's not - it's not bad that you told me - I'm happy you told me, ecstatic, elated you told me, it's - fuck, give me a second."

"I - take as much time as you need."

It gives him time to sort through his own confusion as well, the surprise that someone else could... to think care feels callous, but he doesn't know how else to frame it. The knowledge that the people who should care are all long gone is a thought that seethes, coal-dark and sharp-edged; the assumption that nobody else could learn to is harder to contain, weaving like smoke, but it's something he'd let himself believe in just as strongly. And Avex is standing in the doorway, trying to dry his eyes on his sleeve, sniffling. The two shouldn't be compatible.

Avex takes a deep breath to brace himself. "Mine was Scuttle."

"...Your nickname?"

"Yes." He sounds pained to admit it. "I don't - I didn't like it then, and I don't like it now, but if anyone deserves to know, it's you."

He can see Avex's thoughts catch up to his words, with his fins folding back and his eyes briefly widening.

"Because you told me yours." He adds quickly. "Or, well, told me about it. So it's an equal exchange." He tugs at the cuff of his sleeve. "Please don't tell anyone. Or use it. My parents don't use it either, and Listener has her own, so it's - I don't know."

"I won't use it. Thank you, for... trusting me with it. What nickname does Ennari use?"

"It's embarrassing." Avex warns him.

"I'd still like to hear it, if you want to tell me."

Avex crosses his arms, pokes his claws into the metal-ringed holes punched in the sleeves for his spiked elbows. "I figured my shit out way later than you did, apparently, but when I was little I had a really obsessive dragon phase, so I, uh," he laughs, "I used to pretend I was actually a dragon and like, being a dragonborn was my disguise. You know, normal kid stuff that you definitely won't realize things about later. Avex was - is? - the first part of the name I came up with that that dragon would use. Listener uses the full version," he drops his voice an octave, "because she was put on this earth with the power to demolish me at any time she chooses. Older sister privileges."

He's not sure if Avex has noticed he's stopped fiddling with things as he spoke. "Well, I like your dragon name, even if I only know the short version. It suits you."

Avex leans against the doorframe and grins. "I like to think I've grown into it. It sounded a little grandiose when I was a whopping three feet tall."

"Is your dragon phase why you have your tattoo?"

Avex chokes on air.

He can't help but laugh, though it's soft enough that Avex's sputtering covers the sound. "Come on, did you think I hadn't noticed it? It's above the waistline of your pants, and you've chosen to take your shirt off around me before. It's almost harder to keep your shirt on you."

Avex looks both winded and jokingly offended. "Getting a chest like this was an effort. I'm getting my money's worth. And you chose to look at my waistline, apparently."

"A black ink tattoo the size of my hand is woefully easy to notice." He folds his arms in front of his chest. "And you're not answering the question."

"I'm answering, I'm answering, you don't have to make it an order," Avex teases. "If I answer it, though, will you answer my next one?"

He nods, curious.

Avex tilts his head as if he wants to see his reaction from a better angle, or maybe just a different one. "It's not specifically because of the dragon phase, but I'm sure a part of the reason I like the design is because it has a dragon on it. I did have wing tattoos on my shoulders for a while - the really big kind, full back - but scales don't take ink like skin does. When the shoulder ones shed out, I didn't bother with getting them redone. I'm fond enough of the smaller one to get fresh ink on every once in a while, though. Satisfactory answer?"

"Absolutely." Commenting on it being a cute reason would probably not be a help to the conversation. "Your question?"

Avex taps his claws against his hip and glances to the side before he brings himself to say it. "Has the food been helping?"

It's not a question he was expecting, though now that it's been asked it seems inevitable.

"You sound... better," Avex continues when he doesn't answer. "You sounded like yourself the first few days when you were recovering, but then you just got... tired. Which makes sense and everything, since it was your first day back to work and on your own. I... sorry. I'm just hoping you're feeling better."

"It's..." It's not better, it's a plateau in a downward curve; it's a level of pain he's used to having to ignore; it's always bearable until it isn't. He knows it. They both do. "The food helps."

It's close enough to a lie that it feels like a sin, saved only by the fact that Avex knows what he's not mentioning. There's a name in his medical files to prove it, now. What a bitter thought.

Avex adjusts his lean to rest his head against his arm, thoughtful. "You can ask another question, if you'd like."

He knows what he wants to ask instantly, though it feels like it takes too long to put the right words to it. "Have I screwed this up?"

Avex's expression is carefully neutral. "In what way?"

"A lot of ways," he admits, "but I mean this way. Your, our... this."

It's a strange role reversal, to have Avex watching him in thoughtful silence.

"I... I pushed you away, and I didn't mean to." I didn't want to. "I'm sorry."

He expects one of Avex's awkward fidgets, some physical tell, but Avex is still just standing there, one arm on the doorframe and the other with his thumb hooked in his pocket, unmoving until he shakes his head and looks away. "I would ask if you were joking, but I know you're not. You don't need to apologize." He turns back, and his expression is solemn, heavy, out of place. "If anyone fucked up that conversation, it was me, and I did a shit job of trying to resolve it. I was - can you swear not to judge me for this one?"

It's certainly not the response he'd expected. "I'd like to hear what you have to say."

"That's not the question I asked," Avex smiles, briefly. "But I... I didn't want to have to trust someone else to save you. Which is stupid, because I haven't - I haven't done that much. I wasn't even the only person to try and revive you, I was just the person who did it last. It's smart for you to have someone who's meant to do it, but the way it came up, it just... felt like I was being replaced. And it stung. And I'm sorry, because I know - I know that you just want me safe. You said that. And I'm still trying to throw myself into danger that you know about and I don't."

"Avex," he murmurs.

"Don't. If anyone pushed anyone away, it was me, and I know that." He does move, now, to rub at his neck. "Getting some actual nights of sleep, ah, helped with thinking it all through. Even if I, well. Slept here. I got some extra coffee to munch on, so -"

"Is going home still that difficult?" He interrupts. "...You're eating coffee?"

Avex pointedly avoids answering the second question. "It's... easier to just stay here. I did have someone accidentally walk in on me in the showers though - I think they were more surprised than I was. I don't think they expected this," he waves one hand towards his face, "looming over them in the dark when they thought someone left the water running."

"Was something wrong with the lights?"

"The lights work fine. It's, uh, a new habit. So I don't... so I don't think about what happened." He's back to tugging at his cheek fin. "It works out. I don't mind it. It's not like I have to worry about making my hair look nice or anything."

"Would it be easier if you came back to my apartment?"

"After everything I've -" he cuts himself off with a small laugh. "Careful, sir, or I'll start to think you're making propositions."

He knows it's a joke, of course, but it doesn't stop him from feeling his face heat in an embarrassed blush. He hopes Avex can't see it from that far away. "I couldn't ask that of - it's an honest invitation. No obligations, no... implications."

"Hmm." There's a teasing lilt to Avex's hum that implies he absolutely noticed. "It depends. Are you offering from the goodness of your heart, or are you offering because I evoke the same emotion in you as seeing, for example, a stray kitten on your doorstep in the rain?"

He sighs. "The goodness of my heart. You don't evoke - I'm walking into a bad joke, aren't I?"

Avex is grinning. "Finish the thought."

"You don't evoke," he sighs, heavier this time, "anything kittenlike."

"So glad to hear that, sir." Avex pauses just long enough that he's braced for whatever joke is coming, and then continues without making it. "So what's the menu for tonight? Am I paying my rent with home cooking or take-out?"

"I - I don't know. I hadn't planned at all."

"I can get something for you - for us. I'd want to get a clean change of clothes from home, anyway, so I can grab food on the way."

He can't bring himself to say the truth, though it hurts to hold it back: I want to spend time with you. I want you to stay. "What if we went out?"

"A night out?" Something about him has gone still, like a deer realizing it's being watched, though he can't pin down exactly what changed. "I would assume you mean a date that's a little less eventful than drinking and dancing."

He smiles, a little helplessly. "Would dinner and a concert be close enough?"

"I..." He catches the small movement because he's watching for it, the momentary shift in Avex's expression when he doesn't deny the meaning. He's relaxed again, posture that slightest bit looser, a degree of comfort that is only apparent because it had been missing. "I was going to say it would be hard to find somewhere nice to eat on such short notice, but. Well. I'm sure they'll find room for a charming individual like yourself, hm?"

"You're laying it on a little heavy, there. I don't actually know if there are any concert halls with performances tonight..."

Avex laughs. "Sir, if you can't find live music somewhere in Jorenn on a quiet evening, I'll eat my uniform. Hell, I'll properly wear the damn thing."

"I can find something by tonight." He glances at his schedule and pushes it aside to the blank stationary underneath. "I trust you, of all people, will be able to dress up accordingly?"

"Dinner, a show, and I'm out of uniform? You pamper me."

"And an invitation to stay the night," he reminds him.

He's rewarded with Avex's fins-back embarrassment. "I - um, right, yes. That... that too. If you're not sick of me by the time we're walking home, of course. Actually, are you - are you feeling up to this? If you'd rather rest -"

"I'm not dead yet." It comes out more serious than he means it to. "If it gets to be too much, I can always rely on my devoted assistant to carry me back, can't I?"

It takes Avex a moment to find a reply, and he smirks when he does. "Hmm, I don't know. I might be too tired after so much excitement. Sorting all of these forms is absolutely grueling. My arms might just give out."

"I'll do my best to keep from overworking you."

The smirk breaks into a full grin. "Ooh, and the afternoon off?"

"No," he replies sternly. "You wouldn't forgive me if I let your to-do list get any longer."

"Mm, the most despicable of sins. I should get working on that, then." Avex straightens up and rolls his shoulders, and it feels like a movement far lighter than his earlier attempt to leave. "Throw a pencil at me or something if you think of any specific times or places? I wouldn't want to be late, after all."

"I wouldn't let you miss it for the world." He says, and hopes Avex knows he means it.

It feels strange to put on a suit that isn't some version of his uniform, especially knowing Avex is going to accompany him. The dark sleeves feel off-color and too light in comparison; he leaves the tie undone around his neck, hoping he'll get a few minutes where his hand shakes less so he can tie it properly.

He looks at himself in the mirror, and thinks back to the last time -

His good hand curls against the bathroom counter. The last time wasn't like this, couldn't have been like this. He wouldn't have been able to afford the tailoring.

But he would have been able to tie a tie, so he supposes the differences balance out.

He sighs, and from across the apartment he can hear someone knocking at the door. By the time he's retrieved his cane from the foot of the bed and rounded the corner into the living room, he knows it's Avex, because the second knock devolved after a few seconds into a light rhythm of taps that's still going when he reaches the door.

He waits for a gap in the knocking before he opens it. "I'm slow, not deaf."

Avex smiles awkwardly, embarrassed, tail flicking back and forth where it's anxiously tucked against his heels. He's seen him dressed up before, but never for an off-duty event; Avex's black suit is accented with gold detailing that matches his own scales surprisingly well, and he's replaced his usual horn jewelry with a thin chain looped along one fin.

He puts his hands in his pockets and rocks anxiously on his heels as he's given the look-over. "Be honest, is the gold embroidery too much?"

"You look great."

Avex laughs. "You don't have to sound so surprised."

"I'm not - I just wasn't sure what to expect." He tugs at his collar. "I feel like I'm underwhelming in comparison."

"Not at all. That jawline? Surpasses my whole outfit." Avex puts a hand under his chin and narrows his eyes critically, though he doesn't stop smiling. "You could work on looking a little less confused when you're complimented, maybe?"

"I... I don't really get them often -"

"You'll be well-adjusted by the end of the night, I promise." Avex's eyes drop down to his tie and back up. "Are you ready to head out, or did I interrupt you getting ready?"

"I'm ready to go, I just..."

Avex reaches for his neck and pauses. "May I?"

"Please." He answers quietly.

Avex takes the tie's ends and carefully loops the knot into place, and then fiddles with his collar until it sits properly. He can see when Avex registers how close their faces are - thankfully without colliding - and the blush that creeps through his paler scales as he draws back.

"Ready now?"

He smiles, as earnestly as he can. "I'm ready now."