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[superniceone]

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[superniceone]

It's a lot for one day. From an outside point of view, Gustave thinks it might almost be impressive, how fully and totally everything had gone to shit around them. He's silent for most of the discussion about the Axons. Lune recognizes the look, not wholly unlike the distant place he'd checked out to after the beach, and snaps him out of it with none of the patience that she might have in less overwhelming situations.

Gustave startles when Verso approaches, clearly somewhere else entirely until right then. "Yes," he says neutrally, but doesn't immediately acknowledge the pen. Instead, he's watching Verso's face closely, his own expression shuttered. "Tell me that I can trust you around Maelle." His voice is quiet, intense - dangerous, almost. "I need to hear you say the words."

[recreatable]

All right. Well, fuck his pen, apparently. And fuck community service, too; Gustave's clearly not going to let him anywhere near any of his vulnerable parts now, even though, really, none of this was even Gustave—or anyone else's—business in the first place. That would be fine, because hanging around with Gustave has been fun but all fun eventually comes to an end one way or another, and it's probably better that it comes to an end before he can get too used to it.

The comment about Maelle, though, makes him bristle. He's been appreciative of Gustave's care and affection for Maelle this whole time, but he hadn't realized how irritating it would be to listen to him act as if he's her protector and Verso somehow a danger to her.

"You're kidding." Flat, humorless. None of his usual insincere charm. "—You think I'm a threat now? I could have killed you." Out in the woods. They'd been alone, and Gustave had been totally vulnerable, and yes, he'd thought about it for a fraction of a fraction of a millisecond, but he hadn't done it.

[superniceone]

Gustave doesn't react to the shift in Verso's mood, to his clear irritation. It's irrelevant to him.

"Listen to the words I'm actually saying before you fly off the handle," he says, still careful, measured. "You've kept secrets. I'm sure you've got more, and that's your right. That's fine. I'm not asking you to share them." I see the way you look at her, he thinks, but it's never felt like a threat to her. "I am asking you to comb through those secrets and tell me that, if Lune and Sciel and I were all to fall tomorrow, that Maelle would be safe with you. It's something I've taken for granted until now. I just need to hear it from you."

[recreatable]

"She's always been safe with me." And it still rankles to have to actually say that, when it should be common sense. She's everything to him. Verso died for her once; all he wants is to do it again.

—And then, immaturely: "I'm not flying off the handle."

[superniceone]

"Okay." Gustave pauses; his face goes mostly slack again. "I believe you." And he does. He has no idea what Maelle represents to Verso, but he's got his guesses; Gustave has only lived a life a third as long, and he has no shortage of ghosts in his past that he wishes he could protect. He's not surprised, if Maelle reminds Verso of someone he'd once loved.

He unravels fully then, every bit of broodiness evaporating. Gustave sighs and cants forward slightly, hand pressed firmly to his to his closed eyes like he's staving off a migraine. "And yes, you were. 'I could have killed you, you know'? Come on."

[recreatable]

Oh, god. That was an insane thing to say, huh.

Maybe it's the guilt from keeping all of these secrets seeping through, making him defensive. Or maybe it's particularly irritating that Gustave would look at him as if he could be a danger, when he'd thought they had something resembling a friendship. Or maybe Verso's just scrambling to try to keep things together before everything he's tried to build here falls apart.

He doubles down anyway. "Right, and questioning if Maelle is safe with me isn't dramatic at all."

[superniceone]

Gustave is used to having much stricter control on the variables in his life. Lumiere wasn't always great, but there were rarely surprises. Variables introduced in his workshop were all carefully calculated.

Expedition 33 had prepared for countless situations and scenarios they might have faced, everything they could collectively brainstorm, and in none of them had a figure like Verso once been pulled into the equation.

Gustave sighs again, then straightens himself up, trying to catch Verso's eye. "You're right. I'm sorry." Wearily he waves for him to sit down. "I'm not afraid of dying, but - I'm terrified of leaving Maelle alone." And it's hard to shake the feeling that they're now on even more of a suicide mission than before.

[recreatable]

He's still angry at the almost-accusation, but Gustave would be right to be angry at his lies of omission, too, so... they're even, maybe. As long as one doesn't account for all of Verso's other lies, but luckily, Gustave doesn't and will never know about those. At any rate, he seems to calm a bit, sitting down and placing the stupid blue pen that he'd brought as a poor attempt at a peace offering next to Gustave.

"She won't be alone." Not because he has any faith in them succeeding here anymore, because he doesn't. It's a long shot. It's longer than a long shot. "I'll look out for her."

[superniceone]

"Thank you," Gustave says, and he means it. Maybe it's grim, but it's hard to believe the future holds much hope for them at all. As long as he can trust Verso to get Maelle out when the time is right - well. That's enough. It's all that matters.

He picks the pen up, considers it. After a moment, he'll state dryly: "Was the sex really so bad you considered killing me for it?"

[recreatable]

Oof. Verso comforts himself with the reminder that surely Gustave would have considered the same in his circumstances. He loves Maelle, too. He'd probably stab Verso in the heart this very moment if it meant that she would be safe and happy.

Uncharacteristically flustered, he answers, "I was just... saying." It's not like he really thought about it for more than a second. His opportunity to let that happen came and went on the Stone Wave Cliffs. "If I were a danger. Which I'm not."

[superniceone]

"Sure, I get it," he says, tucking the pen into his pack. He's drawn, tired; they're careening toward their ends somehow even faster than he'd anticipated. The conversation by the water just one night before feels like eons ago, somehow.

He won't choose misery on these final days - at least, not when he can help it. Gustave cracks an uneven, slightly apologetic grin at him, and tries not to feel vaguely unhinged for it. "It's because I kept kissing you, wasn't it? I can see why that might drive someone to homicide."

Okay. So maybe Gustave is having a Moment. But he's not breaking down visibly, which means he counts that as a win.

[recreatable]

Verso stares, frowning. Not in displeasure, necessarily; his brow is furrowed, nose slightly crinkled like he can't quite believe what he's hearing. Gustave, like everyone else in this camp, has plenty of reasons to be upset. Verso withheld information, which would be enough to get him kicked out of camp if he weren't the only living person with any knowledge of the Axons, but even ignoring that, there's a startling chance that Gustave will probably be dead within the week. Maybe less.

"You're— that's what you're thinking of right now? That you... kissed me too much?"

[superniceone]

Gustave presses his hand to his face again; his laugh sounds pathetic even to his own ears. When he does collect himself enough to look at Verso again, his eyes are slightly red-rimmed.

"What am I meant to be thinking about on a night like this?" There's a plea in there. "Tell me, please. I'd love to know."

[recreatable]

"I don't know." He doesn't know what someone is supposed to think of before they die, not when they actually want to live. All he's done is spend decades thinking of how much relief he'll feel right before everything ends for good.

A beat. "I'm sorry." Verso does wish things were different. Once upon a time, he'd really believed in the right to live; a painted replica of real human life, but as good as it will ever get for people like them. Corrosive, though, to the people who matter most. "I'll leave you alone."

[superniceone]

Gustave has never been especially good at schooling his expressions. He looks bothered, maybe disappointed, and he retreats a little more into himself.

"I won't ask you to stay. But I'm not asking you to go, either." He pauses, then mumbles: "Thought last night might be the safest topic to settle on."

[recreatable]

Expedition after expedition, and it never gets easier to watch them suffer and die for nothing. He'd really thought this would be the one to break the cycle. No more pain, just the comfort of nothingness.

"It wasn't... too much," he ventures, even though it feels a bit ridiculous to be talking about this now. "I liked it."

[superniceone]

It feels ridiculous to talk about anything, really. He's too emotionally strung out to keep harping on about plan or strategy; every other possible topic is meaningless fluff.

"I saw you looking over after you sic'ed Sciel on me. You're an ass."

[recreatable]

Verso actually laughs from the absurdity of Gustave bringing up such a tiny slight now. He ducks his head, shoulders shaking even though the laugh is almost silent. "Yeah," is an understatement. He's a far bigger ass than Gustave could ever know. "...But you're the one who went off with an ass, so." He shakes his head. "We all have flaws."

[superniceone]

Gustave abruptly wonders if he and Verso would have even been friends, if Verso had just been another face in Lumière. He likes to think so, but it's hard to be sure when so much of Verso's personality is a coping mechanism.

"I don't regret it." He's frowning at himself. "Was over the moon after our midday conversation, actually." It's just a shame everything went fully sideways.

[recreatable]

He feels— strangely flattered. He hadn't been hoping that Gustave had secretly fallen for him or anything, but clearly, he finds Verso somewhat appealing. Found, at least. With the way he's frowning, Verso isn't sure if he's disappointed that he doesn't regret it more.

"Anyone ever told you you have questionable taste?"

[superniceone]

Gustave snorts at the question and shakes his head no. "Never, actually." Then again, it had been Soph he'd either been with or distantly pining over for the last many years. "But it felt good to turn my brain off for a bit. All that I meant."

[recreatable]

He gets it — it had been nice to do something that hadn't felt earth-shattering, or even particularly important. Low stakes, high reward, as opposed to everything else. "...Don't know if I'd call it off." Lightly ribbing, hesitant, a little unsure. "Your face— laser focus."

[superniceone]

"Didn't want to lose face in front of the professional," Gustave murmurs, reaching up to rub the back of his own neck. He's exhausted and fidgety, not sure what to do with his hands or his mind, really. "You did talk a pretty big game." Gentle ribbing in turn. It'd been fairly obvious that it was the first time either of them had gotten off in ages.

[recreatable]

"I might have been slightly more out of practice than I let it seem," he admits. It had just seemed the right thing to do. Gustave wouldn't have wanted his vulnerability, anyway.

"But over the moon? Must not have been too shabby." Then, before Gustave can say something like it's never, ever happening again, by the way, he adds, "Probably a fluke, though."

[superniceone]

Gustave would have found his vulnerability a lot more relatable than his bravado. "Over the moon," he affirms quietly, and gives a sigh that's almost but not quite heaving. "It's not like I'm immune to the charms of the young and beautiful," he says, voice a little dry. It's more earnest when he continues. "And- being wanted. Is always a nice feeling."