[She holds out the bag with a flourish. Inside, it looks like she just plucked things off the end caps at a mini mart: Skittles and sour Skittles, a small bottle of grape soda, a small bottle of strawberry soda, a few chocolate bars, a few sticks of jerky, and a little bag of blue Takis. None of these colors look natural.]
I thought we could try some things together. [Her favorite little hobby with Gustave in these new places.] After you tell me what you've been teasing me about.
[ He takes the bag with appropriate solemnity and peers inside, reaching with his metal left hand to nudge a few of the treats aside so he can study them all before straightening and handing the bag back to Maelle with an air of approval. ]
And here I was about to suggest we have processed sugar for dinner. You read my mind.
[ He leans back again, crossing his arms, and tips his head as he considers her. Things have been a little... strange, even with Maelle, and he hates it. Back in the Hanging Gardens, in the home they shared with Emma, it seemed like they could talk about anything, everything, no matter how complex or distressing.
Now it feels like he's trying too hard to be casual, but he doesn't know what else to do. ]
I thought maybe we could take a trip, just you and me. This country is huge, much bigger than even the Continent... why don't we go see what's on the other side?
[Imprinting upon Gustave like a baby bird is just as strong as being blood. Maelle takes the bag back with a pleased smile, watching him watch her. There's an ease and comfort here that doesn't exist elsewhere, and while there's still so much to talk about, this is where she's happiest. With him.
That strange tension (?) is something Maelle is painfully aware of, but his offer momentarily washes it away entirely. Her smile is broad. This is what's owed to them.]
You really undersold it by just saying it'd be fun. With a question mark.
[The idea sounds amazing to her. Was she a little hurt that he'd gone on a trip already without her? Maybe, but it's already forgiven.]
[ He hadn't really realized how much until Emma had pointed it out to him: that Maelle stood the way he stood, that she'd ask the questions he would ask, that she'd try to treat people the way he did. Their interests don't align, always, and they aren't related by blood, but some part of him had passed onto her, anyway. It's nice to still be able to see it, especially now, when everything feels so strange and fragile, even between them.
But she smiles, delighted, her eyes bright and interested, and his shoulders relax, very slightly. How terrible, to not be sure that Maelle would want to come do this with him. Of course she would. He knows she'd have tagged along even before, when they didn't have this anxious need to be within eyesight of each other at almost all times. ]
Great!
[ He half-turns, inviting her with a tip of his head to come over to the desk and peer at the map he's been studying. His metal left finger traces a line over the rectangular shape of the country they're in, all the way to the other coast. ]
Because there's a library I want to visit here, and then a bridge I want to check out here, and a whole lot of interesting things in between...
[This is how it should be. She joins his side with a happy laugh, setting down her bag and peering down at Gustave's map. He's excited. So is she. Libraries and bridges don't personally sound all that exciting, but to see him planning about anything makes her glad.
Spending time with him is everything.]
And how are we getting to these wonders of this world?
[A shame they don't have Esquie. It's not the first time she's thought it. Her smile dims for a brief moment as she recalls that Gustave didn't get the chance to ride on Esqiue's back through the skies. He would have loved that, too.
Oh, well. They're making up for those things now, aren't they? There are so many new experiences this world has to offer them. Together.]
[ He leans against the desk, hip checked against the wood, and folds his arms before lifting one hand to gesture. ]
I thought we could try taking an airplane.
[ He sees them all the time, flying overhead: sleek silver birds with outstretched wings. ]
If we'd had one of those, we wouldn't have needed to try marching all the way to the Monolith. But I bet it would be possible to reverse-engineer a smaller, lighter one. Sized for one person, maybe. It wouldn't even need an engine, it could just glide.
Otherwise... well, the trains here would take too long, but Ororo might be willing to help out, if we asked her. I'm not actually sure I could run all that way.
[ No matter how strangely speedy he is, currently. ]
[No offense to Ororo, but it would feel rude to just ask her for a ride and not invite her on the rest of the trip. She's been curious about what it's like to fly inside those (presumably) metal beasts, with no real idea how big (or small!) they are from her spot on the ground.]
When are we going? Or do you want to start reverse-engineering that now? See how close you can get on simply assumptions? After the Lumina Converter, you think you'd leave things for other people to actually make... greedy.
[She's only teasing, and gives his folded arm a gentle push.]
[ It's good to see Maelle perk up; he'd thought she might like the airplane idea, a new thing they can experience together. He lets her prod his arm, allowing his whole body to sway just a little bit from that one small nudge as his eyebrows go up. ]
Really? Have you already forgotten our history? Lumière built airships years ago. Not like this, of course, but there was some kind of flight available.
[ He looks her over critically, like he's sizing her up for something, then grins. ]
But there are some things no one else tried to make. What if you could fly like Esquie?
[Not that she thinks she needs to bring much. Maybe the outfit she got while with Sciel will make an appearance, maybe not... packing for something fun is a novel experience, and Maelle would be scurrying off to do just that if Gustave wasn't being a goofball.]
Do I want to know where this train of thought is going? Oh, wait, don't tell me. On a scale of one to Emma fetching the broom, where does this idea fall?
[What Would Emma Think may or may not be a valid measure of safety.]
[ He laughs, eyes scrunching up with his smile. She's right; he can see Emma's disapproval clearly from here. ]
Oh, she'd already have confiscated my sketches and designs and given me a stern talking to about my responsibilities as a guardian.
So I'll have to keep workshopping it. But maybe you can give me your ideas over...
[ He reaches to prod the bag of treats she'd showed him earlier. ]
Enough sugar to send us both into hyperglycemia. I don't have my apprentices here, so when it comes to brainstorming sessions... you're up. Congratulations.
Hey. [She laughs, reaching a hand out to defend her snacks. Those chips, the strangest blue she's seen on something edible, are probably delicate. They're what she's most eager to try.] I wasn't made one of your apprentices for good reason.
[A lack of aptitude, a lack of interest. But time with Gustave is time with Gustave, and she picks up the bag again.]
Let's see... sofa or patio?
[He's happy. She's happy. It feels right, a precious moment she wants to protect. An excuse to not bring up anything unpleasant. A very good excuse, in Maelle's mind, but she can practically hear Sciel in her head. Be honest, Maelle. He'd appreciate that, and you know it.]
And, um. I do want to talk about a few things. Maybe not as fun as a trip across the land, but... it's important.
[ It's not the Hanging Gardens, but it feels better to be out there, in the fresh air, than in this house that isn't their own.
He pushes off the desk and goes to open the door for her, only to look back with a faint crease tucking between his brows. ]
It sounds important.
[ It sounds like the only other time she's said anything like that to him, the afternoon when she told him she'd decided to join Expedition 33 whether he wanted her to or not. He searches her face for a moment, but there aren't any answers to be found there, so he simply opens the door for her instead, waiting for her to go through before he follows. ]
[The patio is a good choice. The outside air is cool and fresh, and Maelle enjoys the slight breeze ruffling her hair. Setting the bag down on the small table between the chairs, she sits, hands on her knees. He's already shifted gears from excited to concerned and she hates being the cause.
She waits for him to sit before taking a deep breath. Right to it, then.]
I just... I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I've been thinking a lot about Etraya, and how quickly everything happened when we all found one another. I thought things would go a certain way, and they didn't, but I get it. It was too much, and I was so worried about Verso feeling like the odd man out that I... I didn't consider you might feel like that, too.
[Verso always put himself on the edge of their group, always stood at a distance, and Maelle could just sense the imbalance as soon as Gustave and Verso were with her and Sciel.]
Verso likes to say I'm the heart of the group, whatever that actually means, but if it's anyone... it's you. I wish... I wish I could do those days over. I'm sorry, Gustave.
[Sciel said it plainly that they hurt his feelings, and perhaps Maelle knew it in retrospect, even without low conversations had in an empty apartment. She and Gustave have so much history that some part of her simply thought there was no way he could feel any sort of way about her defending Verso in the moment. She was wrong.]
[ He takes a seat in a chair next to her, hands resting loosely on his thighs, trying to keep his posture from tightening with apprehension. Impossible to say what she might want to talk about, but he can make a few guesses: Sciel, maybe, or Verso... something about the apartment back on Etraya, something about the oddity of being here with Ororo instead of Emma.
But none of his guesses prepare him for what she actually says, words a little slow and uncertain here and there, but earnest and sincere. He shakes his head, just once, more reflex than negation. ]
Maelle...
[ You don't need to apologize to me. She doesn't; he doesn't blame her for her reaction. But the last thing he wants to do is to brush aside her feelings, her nervous determination.
It must have been hard, he thinks, and that hurts, too. He'd never thought it would be hard for Maelle to talk to him about anything before. ]
I don't... I don't blame you for wanting what you wanted. I'd give it to you if I could.
[ And he is trying, even if it's slow going. He and Verso both seem to be wary of each other, a far cry from their easy conversation there at the water park. He doesn't know how to make that better, or if he can, but he'd have to be blind not to know what Maelle wants for them. For all of them. ]
I know you didn't believe me when I said it before, but I really am glad you found a... a...
[ A replacement for him? Another brother figure, someone she could go to with her little hurts and her secrets and her worries?
The bruises of that first night haven't gone anywhere, it seems. Just pressing on those spots makes him feel just as sore and raw as he did when he and Sciel were talking.
But that's him. He has a responsibility to Maelle, and that's more important. ]
[She still doesn't believe him. She'd laugh if not for the dawning realization of how deep this goes and it makes her feel sick.
Maelle watches Gustave struggle to find the right word for Verso with an increasingly worried frown. Really, she isn't sure what Verso is, either. He doesn't want to be family, a concept Sciel pointed out is not necessarily a good thing given his own. Verso already has a sister, after all, and Maelle knows he misses Alicia. Alicia, who chose her side, and it wasn't his.
She thinks about her conversation with Verso before he left the apartment. I just was filling in his place -- and now he's here.]
... but you're my family. The best brother and father I could ever have.
[Strange, to repeat the words that she so desperately wished he had heard, even if she knew no real part of him was there in that clearing. Just an arm. All that could be taken with ease, brought to them by Verso. It's absurd to think that, while Verso felt like a replacement, Gustave could possibly feel replaced. There's no contest.
He knows that... doesn't he?
Except Maelle sees it now. He doesn't. He died in front of her and then he came back and there's some person who isn't good at not seeming suspicious, who knows her and Sciel and has gained their trust and regard.
She turns in her seat to put her hand on his arm, serious.]
I have everything I could ever want. You know that, right?
[Sure, everyone living together as one big happy family would be great. She wishes Emma were here, and Gustave's apprentices, and everyone that lost their lives on the beach. But she'd give them all up in a heartbeat to keep Gustave.]
[ Her small hand curves over his arm, and he lifts his other hand reflexively to cover her fingers there, his touch gentle as he looks over at her. Her eyes are big and earnest, pale blue and nothing like his own aside from the expression in them. He remembers when she was small enough that he could have soothed any of her worries simply by picking her up and holding her close, by joking around until she forget her tears and her nightmares and laughed at his silliness.
But she's grown so much since then. She's grown just since the last time he saw her, there on that cliff, trapped in that cave, the smell of ozone and flowers and paint thick in the air. How much of her sixteenth year had he missed? How many more nightmares and terrors and moments of laughter and worries spoken softly out beneath the wide, star-speckled sky of the Continent. ]
...I'm not sure that'll be enough for you for much longer.
[ He'd never really thought he'd ever have to deal with Maelle letting go. As much as he wanted her to embrace the world and the people around her, the reality was that she was only going to be just out of childhood when she lost him. He was never going to see her grow up, not unless 33 made it, fulfilled Lumiere's generational mission.
(And they had, and it hadn't even worked, after all.) ]
It's okay, Maelle. Your world was always going to be bigger than just me and Emma one day. I wanted that for you, I still do.
But I know how lucky I am that I get to have you back again. That we have each other back.
What are you talking about? [She says, breathing out a confused laugh after the words. He's insane.] Stop being ridiculous. You...
[The laughter fades, and she shakes her head. He's not joking, and she knows it, and that he's even saying this hurts. They just got one another back, and he's talking about him not being enough for her.]
A bigger world doesn't mean I don't need you. It actually sounds like I'd need you more than ever, actually. I need my family. Okay?
[Her hand squeezes his arm. He's all the family she needs. Maelle takes a shaky breath, commending herself for not crying thus far, and tries to smile. He really is the best, and she loves him.]
Please. Don't act like you don't know that you're my favorite person.
[ He ducks his head for a moment, shoulders lifting and falling, before he looks back over at her with a small, crooking smile. ]
Well, who knows how long I might manage to hold onto that title? Sciel's taking you shopping, and I don't know how to play the piano...
[ Teasing, trying to get her smile to stop trembling and to shine out more strongly, before his glance falls and lifts again, his head tipping toward her as his expression softens. ]
Yeah. I know.
And you're mine, you know that?
[ He lifts his metal hand from where it's covering hers, pushes it out in front of him in a lazy gesture as he continues, fingers spreading, curling in on themselves again. ]
With you here, I feel like maybe I might actually be able to handle all the weird things that place keeps throwing at us. Aurora. Etraya.
As long as we're together, you know, it's all a little easier.
[He jokes, and she does smile easier, amused. There's always been a special bond between them, something she never had with any other foster family. The love came quick and strong and Maelle doesn't want to know the person she'd be had she not met Gustave. She's glad she won't have to see the person she becomes without him, either.]
I want to help.
[Even if she doesn't fully understand. She loved to help him with his projects despite not understanding or absorbing the things he would tell her, content to listen to his voice rather than what he was actually saying. Glad to spend time with him and to have someone genuinely want to spend time with her, too.]
And... there's something I think might help, just a little. I know we have a lot to discover here and I really can't wait to go on our trip but I know it bothers you. The--not knowing. About before. [Where Verso comes into play, but she's sure it's not just not understanding him. He doesn't understand what they experienced, after. She opens her mouth, knowing she's starting to sound like him, prepared to trip and tumble over her own words. So, she pauses for a moment, taking a breath.]
I kept your journal. [Brought to her by Verso, though she decides to omit that detail.] I... tried to write down what we did. What we saw. Like you would. I knew how important it was to you.
[For those who come after.]
I want to be able to explain it all to you myself but I don't know if I can and I thought--I don't know. I thought maybe, together, we can try reading it? Maybe a little here and there. I'm probably going to end up crying anyway, but I think I need to try. If you think it's a good idea.
[ Maelle has a dry, quick humor that he loves, but he's always loved this about her, too: her sincerity, the earnest way she has of speaking when she's trying hard to help, to make an argument. Her pale eyes are wide and steady on his, asking him to agree, searching for his approval through the wave of surprise that rolls over him. ]
My journal? You kept my journal?
[ Kept it, wrote in it, the way he had, every night. He'd never made a secret of it, would sometimes joke to the others after some particularly tough fight when they'd all be standing there dirty and bloodied and exhausted that he'd at least have something interesting to tell his apprentices about, but he'd never shown the entries to anyone. Time alone had been dear during the expedition, and he'd almost always used the few moments he could eke away from the group to write, logging the strange and wonderful things they'd seen, describing and sketching out Nevrons and gestrals and Esquie, telling his apprentices a story he'd hoped with all his heart he might be able to read to them one day.
There's a lump in his throat stopping up his voice; he swallows, coughs to clear it, and shakes his head very slightly as he looks at her. The expression that settles over his features at last is a complex one, but one part of it is clear, at least: warm, slightly stunned pride. ]
...Yeah. Yeah, I think that's a great idea. I'd really love that.
And don't worry. I'll probably end up crying, too. We can keep that part to ourselves... no one else has to know.
[The look on his face is nearly enough to make her weep. In her dreams, before Sirene, her happiest memories--he looked proud of her. For all the love and guidance and patience he'd given her, the least she could do is make him proud. She was never going to be brilliant like him, and all she ever really was good at was running and dueling, but she could continue his legacy in what ways she could. Treat people as she thought he'd treat them. Write in his journal, as he did, recalling details as he would, or at least she tried.
He's emotional, she's emotional, and Maelle nods because she can't speak for a moment. She takes a breath and finds her voice, pulling her hands onto her lap where she can clasp one firmly over the other. She's still full of an anxious energy, struggling to keep her leg from bouncing or her hands from fidgeting too much.]
My entries aren't nearly as good as yours, but I tried. It was important to you, so I--I wanted to do it. I missed you, and sometimes when I sat and wrote it felt like--
[Everyone had offered their comforts. Their advice. But, ultimately, she felt closest to him when she held that journal, read his words. Wrote in the blank pages, because he could not.]
Like... you were a little less gone.
[She dares a glance at him, lips pressed together as she stops herself from rambling on too far in that direction.]
[ They don't have rocks to throw from this patio, but he thinks about getting up to try and find some, anyway, watching her hands twist in her lap. The thought of Maelle carrying on after he'd been so brutally ripped away is one he can hardly bear to even lightly touch in his mind: he can't imagine what it was like for her, can only imagine what it would have been like for him to be the one to watch her be struck down.
Just that is almost enough to make him want to reach back out to her, to make sure she's there, warm and real and alive, at least as far as the rules of this world and the one they'd just left go. ]
I'd like that.
[ It's going to be hard for both of them, but they can take it slow. Talk it through, revisit those memories carefully.
But before they do...
Gustave grimaces briefly, sits up, his hands on his thighs. ]
Actually, I wanted to talk to you, too. And I'll mention it to Sciel later.
[ And Verso, potentially. He is, after all, part of the team. ]
...I saw Renoir, here in San Francisco. Just briefly, but he's here.
[Renoir. Just mention of the name makes Maelle stiffen, expression hardening. Less terror, more hatred, these days. He doesn't deserve to be here or in Etraya or anywhere at all.
Her mouth twists into a frown as she swallows down the bile that bubbles up at imagining Gustave and Renoir occupying the same space. It already sounds justified to kill him again. As if she needed more reason. She'll kill him a hundred times over for taking Gustave away from her in the first place. Nothing has been forgiven.]
... just saw?
[It's all Maelle can get out after a long, heavy pause. ]
[ He doesn't want Maelle anywhere near Renoir, for myriad reasons. She's still furious and hurt and probably will be... forever, maybe; the man is still dangerous, no matter what Verso might say; they still don't really know what his intentions are here, and Gustave still doesn't really know what his intentions were back there, on the Continent, aside from a grim determination to stop them. ]
It's like I... I see him everywhere I go, and sometimes he's real and sometimes he's not, and half the time I don't know which it might be unless I actually try to interact with him.
[ He was the first person Gustave saw here, still features heavily in Gustave's nightmares, always seems to be there, just out of the corner of his eye. Gustave hates that the man is here at all, but in Etraya he's at least come to terms with the idea of seeing him now and then. Here? This world is enormous. He'd half-believed the Renoir he saw in the museum was simply a figment of his terrified imagination. ]
I'm sorry. I know you don't want me anywhere near him, and believe me, I don't want to be anywhere near him. But it's like we keep getting... thrust together.
[ Stumbling on each other. Renoir at the riverwalk, Renoir at the museum. What's next? Renoir on the roof of the apartment building, the place Gustave goes to try and clear his mind? ]
[Maelle listens, concern written plainly on her face. She didn't know he sees him, that he haunts Gustave. Her fingers flex in memory of the Curator's guidance, and the petals taking Renoir away. Death.
She wonders if she could do that again. Here. Without help from anyone. But she doesn't even understand what that was or how she did it or what the point is, in a place beyond death. Seemingly.]
I don't know why he won't just leave us alone.
[Is it because of Verso? Maybe there's no answer. Maybe it's some sick pleasure of an old man with a rotten heart. Maelle shakes her head, trying to keep herself from spiraling into ugly places she doesn't care for Gustave to see.]
... really not helping the part where I'm trying to not be glued to your side every minute of every day.
[It's only a half-joke. She doesn't laugh. She never likes being away from him even if she's off having a good time. Her thoughts always drift back to Gustave, hoping he's okay. Relatively speaking.]
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[She holds out the bag with a flourish. Inside, it looks like she just plucked things off the end caps at a mini mart: Skittles and sour Skittles, a small bottle of grape soda, a small bottle of strawberry soda, a few chocolate bars, a few sticks of jerky, and a little bag of blue Takis. None of these colors look natural.]
I thought we could try some things together. [Her favorite little hobby with Gustave in these new places.] After you tell me what you've been teasing me about.
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And here I was about to suggest we have processed sugar for dinner. You read my mind.
[ He leans back again, crossing his arms, and tips his head as he considers her. Things have been a little... strange, even with Maelle, and he hates it. Back in the Hanging Gardens, in the home they shared with Emma, it seemed like they could talk about anything, everything, no matter how complex or distressing.
Now it feels like he's trying too hard to be casual, but he doesn't know what else to do. ]
I thought maybe we could take a trip, just you and me. This country is huge, much bigger than even the Continent... why don't we go see what's on the other side?
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[Imprinting upon Gustave like a baby bird is just as strong as being blood. Maelle takes the bag back with a pleased smile, watching him watch her. There's an ease and comfort here that doesn't exist elsewhere, and while there's still so much to talk about, this is where she's happiest. With him.
That strange tension (?) is something Maelle is painfully aware of, but his offer momentarily washes it away entirely. Her smile is broad. This is what's owed to them.]
You really undersold it by just saying it'd be fun. With a question mark.
[The idea sounds amazing to her. Was she a little hurt that he'd gone on a trip already without her? Maybe, but it's already forgiven.]
I'm in. Let's do it.
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[ He hadn't really realized how much until Emma had pointed it out to him: that Maelle stood the way he stood, that she'd ask the questions he would ask, that she'd try to treat people the way he did. Their interests don't align, always, and they aren't related by blood, but some part of him had passed onto her, anyway. It's nice to still be able to see it, especially now, when everything feels so strange and fragile, even between them.
But she smiles, delighted, her eyes bright and interested, and his shoulders relax, very slightly. How terrible, to not be sure that Maelle would want to come do this with him. Of course she would. He knows she'd have tagged along even before, when they didn't have this anxious need to be within eyesight of each other at almost all times. ]
Great!
[ He half-turns, inviting her with a tip of his head to come over to the desk and peer at the map he's been studying. His metal left finger traces a line over the rectangular shape of the country they're in, all the way to the other coast. ]
Because there's a library I want to visit here, and then a bridge I want to check out here, and a whole lot of interesting things in between...
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Spending time with him is everything.]
And how are we getting to these wonders of this world?
[A shame they don't have Esquie. It's not the first time she's thought it. Her smile dims for a brief moment as she recalls that Gustave didn't get the chance to ride on Esqiue's back through the skies. He would have loved that, too.
Oh, well. They're making up for those things now, aren't they? There are so many new experiences this world has to offer them. Together.]
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[ He leans against the desk, hip checked against the wood, and folds his arms before lifting one hand to gesture. ]
I thought we could try taking an airplane.
[ He sees them all the time, flying overhead: sleek silver birds with outstretched wings. ]
If we'd had one of those, we wouldn't have needed to try marching all the way to the Monolith. But I bet it would be possible to reverse-engineer a smaller, lighter one. Sized for one person, maybe. It wouldn't even need an engine, it could just glide.
Otherwise... well, the trains here would take too long, but Ororo might be willing to help out, if we asked her. I'm not actually sure I could run all that way.
[ No matter how strangely speedy he is, currently. ]
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[No offense to Ororo, but it would feel rude to just ask her for a ride and not invite her on the rest of the trip. She's been curious about what it's like to fly inside those (presumably) metal beasts, with no real idea how big (or small!) they are from her spot on the ground.]
When are we going? Or do you want to start reverse-engineering that now? See how close you can get on simply assumptions? After the Lumina Converter, you think you'd leave things for other people to actually make... greedy.
[She's only teasing, and gives his folded arm a gentle push.]
no subject
[ It's good to see Maelle perk up; he'd thought she might like the airplane idea, a new thing they can experience together. He lets her prod his arm, allowing his whole body to sway just a little bit from that one small nudge as his eyebrows go up. ]
Really? Have you already forgotten our history? Lumière built airships years ago. Not like this, of course, but there was some kind of flight available.
[ He looks her over critically, like he's sizing her up for something, then grins. ]
But there are some things no one else tried to make. What if you could fly like Esquie?
...without needing a rock, I mean.
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[Not that she thinks she needs to bring much. Maybe the outfit she got while with Sciel will make an appearance, maybe not... packing for something fun is a novel experience, and Maelle would be scurrying off to do just that if Gustave wasn't being a goofball.]
Do I want to know where this train of thought is going? Oh, wait, don't tell me. On a scale of one to Emma fetching the broom, where does this idea fall?
[What Would Emma Think may or may not be a valid measure of safety.]
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Oh, she'd already have confiscated my sketches and designs and given me a stern talking to about my responsibilities as a guardian.
So I'll have to keep workshopping it. But maybe you can give me your ideas over...
[ He reaches to prod the bag of treats she'd showed him earlier. ]
Enough sugar to send us both into hyperglycemia. I don't have my apprentices here, so when it comes to brainstorming sessions... you're up. Congratulations.
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[A lack of aptitude, a lack of interest. But time with Gustave is time with Gustave, and she picks up the bag again.]
Let's see... sofa or patio?
[He's happy. She's happy. It feels right, a precious moment she wants to protect. An excuse to not bring up anything unpleasant. A very good excuse, in Maelle's mind, but she can practically hear Sciel in her head. Be honest, Maelle. He'd appreciate that, and you know it.]
And, um. I do want to talk about a few things. Maybe not as fun as a trip across the land, but... it's important.
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[ It's not the Hanging Gardens, but it feels better to be out there, in the fresh air, than in this house that isn't their own.
He pushes off the desk and goes to open the door for her, only to look back with a faint crease tucking between his brows. ]
It sounds important.
[ It sounds like the only other time she's said anything like that to him, the afternoon when she told him she'd decided to join Expedition 33 whether he wanted her to or not. He searches her face for a moment, but there aren't any answers to be found there, so he simply opens the door for her instead, waiting for her to go through before he follows. ]
So I guess we'd better talk about them.
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She waits for him to sit before taking a deep breath. Right to it, then.]
I just... I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I've been thinking a lot about Etraya, and how quickly everything happened when we all found one another. I thought things would go a certain way, and they didn't, but I get it. It was too much, and I was so worried about Verso feeling like the odd man out that I... I didn't consider you might feel like that, too.
[Verso always put himself on the edge of their group, always stood at a distance, and Maelle could just sense the imbalance as soon as Gustave and Verso were with her and Sciel.]
Verso likes to say I'm the heart of the group, whatever that actually means, but if it's anyone... it's you. I wish... I wish I could do those days over. I'm sorry, Gustave.
[Sciel said it plainly that they hurt his feelings, and perhaps Maelle knew it in retrospect, even without low conversations had in an empty apartment. She and Gustave have so much history that some part of her simply thought there was no way he could feel any sort of way about her defending Verso in the moment. She was wrong.]
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But none of his guesses prepare him for what she actually says, words a little slow and uncertain here and there, but earnest and sincere. He shakes his head, just once, more reflex than negation. ]
Maelle...
[ You don't need to apologize to me. She doesn't; he doesn't blame her for her reaction. But the last thing he wants to do is to brush aside her feelings, her nervous determination.
It must have been hard, he thinks, and that hurts, too. He'd never thought it would be hard for Maelle to talk to him about anything before. ]
I don't... I don't blame you for wanting what you wanted. I'd give it to you if I could.
[ And he is trying, even if it's slow going. He and Verso both seem to be wary of each other, a far cry from their easy conversation there at the water park. He doesn't know how to make that better, or if he can, but he'd have to be blind not to know what Maelle wants for them. For all of them. ]
I know you didn't believe me when I said it before, but I really am glad you found a... a...
[ A replacement for him? Another brother figure, someone she could go to with her little hurts and her secrets and her worries?
The bruises of that first night haven't gone anywhere, it seems. Just pressing on those spots makes him feel just as sore and raw as he did when he and Sciel were talking.
But that's him. He has a responsibility to Maelle, and that's more important. ]
... a friend.
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Maelle watches Gustave struggle to find the right word for Verso with an increasingly worried frown. Really, she isn't sure what Verso is, either. He doesn't want to be family, a concept Sciel pointed out is not necessarily a good thing given his own. Verso already has a sister, after all, and Maelle knows he misses Alicia. Alicia, who chose her side, and it wasn't his.
She thinks about her conversation with Verso before he left the apartment. I just was filling in his place -- and now he's here.]
... but you're my family. The best brother and father I could ever have.
[Strange, to repeat the words that she so desperately wished he had heard, even if she knew no real part of him was there in that clearing. Just an arm. All that could be taken with ease, brought to them by Verso. It's absurd to think that, while Verso felt like a replacement, Gustave could possibly feel replaced. There's no contest.
He knows that... doesn't he?
Except Maelle sees it now. He doesn't. He died in front of her and then he came back and there's some person who isn't good at not seeming suspicious, who knows her and Sciel and has gained their trust and regard.
She turns in her seat to put her hand on his arm, serious.]
I have everything I could ever want. You know that, right?
[Sure, everyone living together as one big happy family would be great. She wishes Emma were here, and Gustave's apprentices, and everyone that lost their lives on the beach. But she'd give them all up in a heartbeat to keep Gustave.]
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But she's grown so much since then. She's grown just since the last time he saw her, there on that cliff, trapped in that cave, the smell of ozone and flowers and paint thick in the air. How much of her sixteenth year had he missed? How many more nightmares and terrors and moments of laughter and worries spoken softly out beneath the wide, star-speckled sky of the Continent. ]
...I'm not sure that'll be enough for you for much longer.
[ He'd never really thought he'd ever have to deal with Maelle letting go. As much as he wanted her to embrace the world and the people around her, the reality was that she was only going to be just out of childhood when she lost him. He was never going to see her grow up, not unless 33 made it, fulfilled Lumiere's generational mission.
(And they had, and it hadn't even worked, after all.) ]
It's okay, Maelle. Your world was always going to be bigger than just me and Emma one day. I wanted that for you, I still do.
But I know how lucky I am that I get to have you back again. That we have each other back.
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[The laughter fades, and she shakes her head. He's not joking, and she knows it, and that he's even saying this hurts. They just got one another back, and he's talking about him not being enough for her.]
A bigger world doesn't mean I don't need you. It actually sounds like I'd need you more than ever, actually. I need my family. Okay?
[Her hand squeezes his arm. He's all the family she needs. Maelle takes a shaky breath, commending herself for not crying thus far, and tries to smile. He really is the best, and she loves him.]
Please. Don't act like you don't know that you're my favorite person.
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Well, who knows how long I might manage to hold onto that title? Sciel's taking you shopping, and I don't know how to play the piano...
[ Teasing, trying to get her smile to stop trembling and to shine out more strongly, before his glance falls and lifts again, his head tipping toward her as his expression softens. ]
Yeah. I know.
And you're mine, you know that?
[ He lifts his metal hand from where it's covering hers, pushes it out in front of him in a lazy gesture as he continues, fingers spreading, curling in on themselves again. ]
With you here, I feel like maybe I might actually be able to handle all the weird things that place keeps throwing at us. Aurora. Etraya.
As long as we're together, you know, it's all a little easier.
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I want to help.
[Even if she doesn't fully understand. She loved to help him with his projects despite not understanding or absorbing the things he would tell her, content to listen to his voice rather than what he was actually saying. Glad to spend time with him and to have someone genuinely want to spend time with her, too.]
And... there's something I think might help, just a little. I know we have a lot to discover here and I really can't wait to go on our trip but I know it bothers you. The--not knowing. About before. [Where Verso comes into play, but she's sure it's not just not understanding him. He doesn't understand what they experienced, after. She opens her mouth, knowing she's starting to sound like him, prepared to trip and tumble over her own words. So, she pauses for a moment, taking a breath.]
I kept your journal. [Brought to her by Verso, though she decides to omit that detail.] I... tried to write down what we did. What we saw. Like you would. I knew how important it was to you.
[For those who come after.]
I want to be able to explain it all to you myself but I don't know if I can and I thought--I don't know. I thought maybe, together, we can try reading it? Maybe a little here and there. I'm probably going to end up crying anyway, but I think I need to try. If you think it's a good idea.
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My journal? You kept my journal?
[ Kept it, wrote in it, the way he had, every night. He'd never made a secret of it, would sometimes joke to the others after some particularly tough fight when they'd all be standing there dirty and bloodied and exhausted that he'd at least have something interesting to tell his apprentices about, but he'd never shown the entries to anyone. Time alone had been dear during the expedition, and he'd almost always used the few moments he could eke away from the group to write, logging the strange and wonderful things they'd seen, describing and sketching out Nevrons and gestrals and Esquie, telling his apprentices a story he'd hoped with all his heart he might be able to read to them one day.
There's a lump in his throat stopping up his voice; he swallows, coughs to clear it, and shakes his head very slightly as he looks at her. The expression that settles over his features at last is a complex one, but one part of it is clear, at least: warm, slightly stunned pride. ]
...Yeah. Yeah, I think that's a great idea. I'd really love that.
And don't worry. I'll probably end up crying, too. We can keep that part to ourselves... no one else has to know.
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He's emotional, she's emotional, and Maelle nods because she can't speak for a moment. She takes a breath and finds her voice, pulling her hands onto her lap where she can clasp one firmly over the other. She's still full of an anxious energy, struggling to keep her leg from bouncing or her hands from fidgeting too much.]
My entries aren't nearly as good as yours, but I tried. It was important to you, so I--I wanted to do it. I missed you, and sometimes when I sat and wrote it felt like--
[Everyone had offered their comforts. Their advice. But, ultimately, she felt closest to him when she held that journal, read his words. Wrote in the blank pages, because he could not.]
Like... you were a little less gone.
[She dares a glance at him, lips pressed together as she stops herself from rambling on too far in that direction.]
We can start tonight, if you want.
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Just that is almost enough to make him want to reach back out to her, to make sure she's there, warm and real and alive, at least as far as the rules of this world and the one they'd just left go. ]
I'd like that.
[ It's going to be hard for both of them, but they can take it slow. Talk it through, revisit those memories carefully.
But before they do...
Gustave grimaces briefly, sits up, his hands on his thighs. ]
Actually, I wanted to talk to you, too. And I'll mention it to Sciel later.
[ And Verso, potentially. He is, after all, part of the team. ]
...I saw Renoir, here in San Francisco. Just briefly, but he's here.
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Her mouth twists into a frown as she swallows down the bile that bubbles up at imagining Gustave and Renoir occupying the same space. It already sounds justified to kill him again. As if she needed more reason. She'll kill him a hundred times over for taking Gustave away from her in the first place. Nothing has been forgiven.]
... just saw?
[It's all Maelle can get out after a long, heavy pause. ]
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[ He doesn't want Maelle anywhere near Renoir, for myriad reasons. She's still furious and hurt and probably will be... forever, maybe; the man is still dangerous, no matter what Verso might say; they still don't really know what his intentions are here, and Gustave still doesn't really know what his intentions were back there, on the Continent, aside from a grim determination to stop them. ]
It's like I... I see him everywhere I go, and sometimes he's real and sometimes he's not, and half the time I don't know which it might be unless I actually try to interact with him.
[ He was the first person Gustave saw here, still features heavily in Gustave's nightmares, always seems to be there, just out of the corner of his eye. Gustave hates that the man is here at all, but in Etraya he's at least come to terms with the idea of seeing him now and then. Here? This world is enormous. He'd half-believed the Renoir he saw in the museum was simply a figment of his terrified imagination. ]
I'm sorry. I know you don't want me anywhere near him, and believe me, I don't want to be anywhere near him. But it's like we keep getting... thrust together.
[ Stumbling on each other. Renoir at the riverwalk, Renoir at the museum. What's next? Renoir on the roof of the apartment building, the place Gustave goes to try and clear his mind? ]
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She wonders if she could do that again. Here. Without help from anyone. But she doesn't even understand what that was or how she did it or what the point is, in a place beyond death. Seemingly.]
I don't know why he won't just leave us alone.
[Is it because of Verso? Maybe there's no answer. Maybe it's some sick pleasure of an old man with a rotten heart. Maelle shakes her head, trying to keep herself from spiraling into ugly places she doesn't care for Gustave to see.]
... really not helping the part where I'm trying to not be glued to your side every minute of every day.
[It's only a half-joke. She doesn't laugh. She never likes being away from him even if she's off having a good time. Her thoughts always drift back to Gustave, hoping he's okay. Relatively speaking.]
I don't know what to do.
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