Gungrave (Cassius/Aaron) - FINISHED

[MP]

Aaron's complexion wasn't a blush so much as a blaze of color from ear to nose. He lifted the fingers of one hand, as if completing the halting gesture might draw too much attention to himself.

"That's not necessary," he said. And then, still avoiding the old Gold's eyes: "It's just my job."

For once, not even the mention of the vampire and wendigo were enough to shake off the agent's embarrassment. His eyes wandered around to various points of the room as he spoke.

"I haven't heard reports of gangrel activity in the area for months now. Local covens haven't seen her. There's no signs of local wendigo predation either, but with how they eat, that isn't indicative." He puffed out a breath. "The latest incident report says they may have had a falling out, but we can't confirm that until we've got a more recent idea of their activities."

It was a constant worry, even despite the Zramek and Soundless crises. One nightmare after the other. It was a shame, he thought, a little guiltily. They could use an agent like Lucidus out in the field, now more than ever. But that was insensitive of him. The man could hardly help getting shot, and he'd more than earned a stress-free recovery.

[jarahamee]

Cassius’ mouth drew up in a half-smile at Telmore’s reaction. Ever humble, and perhaps, unable to accept praise at all. Was he not used to it now? Or had he never learned how to respond?

The old werewolf was not sure, and it was not his place to ask or teach. He simply shrugged, taking the pressure off of Aaron. Would a backwards complement help? He imagined probably not, but offered it anyways.

“A shame how rare doing one’s job, and doing it well actually is.”

He spent a moment wondering if all of Telmore’s children would inherit his drive. Would any of them become agents?

Time passed differently for Cassius.

In what he felt were trivial moments, his mortal companions wed, had children, grew old, became sick, and died. An hour, a day, a year, ten years passed in the blink of an eye, and before he knew it, he was the same age, and they were withered and weak.

If Agent Lucidus was not so near the end, he imagined he could have seen Aaron’s children grow into little warriors, as he had done so many centuries ago with his vassals. Watched what traits they carried of his beloved friends into the future, and which were gone forever. And of course, if they inherited their parents’ good qualities, or simply…disappointed him.

Sharing his thoughts on these matters never went well, but he was always free to wonder on his own.

The matter of the vampire and wendigo drew his attention again, and he dismissed his invasive thoughts about future miniature Agent Telmores.

Cassius growled softly;

“The vampire is noisy. I feel, we will know when she returns. The wendigo, I know he is out there, feeding. He won’t stop until he is incapable of it. He does not feel remorse or shame. He is like an animal, feeding to slake its bloodlust.”

He knew the body language, the cruelty too well. This was not a creature who was killing to survive. This was a creature who was enjoying every moment of predation, as Cassius did.

It would never stop, at least, not without a very good reason or. If it was killed.

“We should have…someone from his tribe…come investigate here. They can…ward off or permanently destroy them if it is needed…”

The correct words were more difficult to reach than usual. Cassius blamed his broken body, but knew in his heart that perhaps his memory was not as keen as it was once.

[MP]

"Outreach was ongoing, last I heard," Aaron answered. "But with how old we estimate the wendigo to be, and the range he might have covered over an extended life time, finding an appropriate community is difficult. And with the recent crises, there may be other priorities."

He didn't have much contact with regional tribes himself - that outreach was Mona's department, and all Aaron could really do there is wait. With no other leads to follow, he felt frustratingly helpless. Blind. All the more so with the gangrel missing. That at least he should have been able to handle.

But that wasn't the officer's problem. The fact that Lucidus was, well, lucid enough to remember and ask about it was nothing short of astounding.

"But you don't have to worry about that," Aaron reassured the old agent. "It'll get done."

Another small, almost unconscious flutter of his hand, as if to wave Cassius back down onto his pillow.

[jarahamee]

Cassius’ gaze sharpened a little, and his expression became one of sly amusement. A glint of predatory interest danced in his eyes as he considered their options. He could always hunt and fish for this ‘Kail,’ proverbially speaking, and, of course, he could gather information when and if it was available in his own way.

“If he is here, there are ways to find him. While it seems there is no way to track him directly, I imagine, if he /is/ indeed still here, he is busy lurking, hunting for lone, innocent hikers, adventurers… If one provided him with an irresistible trap, I imagine he’d…walk right into it. Providing, he was still here.”

He leaned forward, holding out what seemed to be his good hand as he gestured.

“..And…if I go in disguise to the Underground, perhaps I can gather intelligence about…him and other criminals. There are illegal fighting rings I have seen. Wanted criminals think themselves safe and hidden there. They trust me when I am a werewolf. It makes me one of them. That. THAT is what I will do when I am feeling better… After I testify and find the rats who stole children from their mothers.”

The light faded again as Aaron comforted him. He was probably stressing him out talking about work, even though it was really what he wanted to be doing, instead of being stuck here.
The scarred man sighed; a little puff through his nostrils and turned his head, frustrated at his body’s lack of cooperation. He just wanted to be free already.

As if to distract him, a thought wondered into his head, and, once again, the good corner of his mouth upturned, this time in amusement. Foul moods never lasted too long for him, and he considered that a benefit of his advanced age.

“Ah, I talk too much about me. Telmore. How is Dr. Summers? Are you thinking of marriage yet?”

[MP]

"We haven't talked about it yet," Aaron said.

He gazed somewhere past the Gold as he said it. Marriage had been on his mind, on and off. It wasn't that he didn't want to. And he hoped Sara wanted to. But it just didn't seem like the right time. Or the right time to bring it up. And he wondered sometimes -

He brushed the thoughts away. They weren't relevant right now. And as for Cassius' question, there was nothing currently to report. It was weird to see from him, Aaron thought. A senior agent prodding for relationship updates like a nosy aunt. Probably the boredom of the hospital bed.

[jarahamee]

Cassius shifted, almost as if to get up, then paused and seemed to think better of it. Instead he gestured towards Aaron, his expression knowing. Aaron would not want to talk about this, but he certainly did.

“Come here. Sit with me.”

After Aaron obliged him, he leaned towards him, almost conspiratorially.

“Your work is your life, and everyone appreciates what you do, but you should consider making time to do everything you might be putting off in your personal life. Everything that you were waiting to do until the perfect time… There never is a perfect time. All the time we think we have is gone in the blink of an eye. Even for me.”

He lay back against the pillow, and sighed. Agent Telmore probably didn’t want to hear any of this, but it was important for him to hear it at least once. Maybe Agent Hemming had already talked to him, or Lonan, but if they didn’t, he was.

“I made my duty my life, but there was always that opportunity to be happy. How peaceful my life might have been.”

The scarred man rubbed his hands together, psychically predicting that Telmore would probably try to slip away back to work.

“I want that…for you.”

[MP]

Aaron's gaze turned down to his lap, where his palms lay over his knees. He didn't complain or look for an escape. His expression was wooden, neither warming to the advice nor rejecting it. But just when it seemed he might let the conversation go, his voice broke the silence.

"It's not about that." His words were measured. Careful. "I made...a lot of mistakes. I haven't been..."

He shook his head.

"With everything that's happened, and keeps happening, I don't know if it's a good time."

[jarahamee]

Agent Lucidus’ expression softened, and for once, he looked less like a predatory animal, and more a tired, terribly bruised middle-aged man in a hospital bed. Which was admittedly exactly what he was, but it was a rare moment that reality and his literal being aligned.

“We all make mistakes, Aaron. I have also made professional mistakes, like the one that landed me here. I do not know what you think you have done wrong, but I know you are too hard on yourself.”

He sighed again. He didn’t think Telmore would take this to heart either, but he would do his best. After all, he had gone through Hell and back. Who could do that and return unburned?

“There will always be something. A crime spree, a threat to the city, a temporal shift, a renegade hunter, a rampaging deity… There will never feel like a good time.”

Even for Cassius, there was never a good time. What was true peace? There was always civil unrest, political upheaval, war, crime. He had never known true peace, but somewhere in his heart, he knew that if he had wanted it enough, he could have found it. He just… needed to want it more than he wanted to be a slave to his duty.

“I know you feel like the department needs you, but… You need time to yourself, for yourself. Perhaps you can take a vacation. Go somewhere nice… Don’t be like me. You don’t deserve to be here like I do.”

He seemed to mean more than just being in a hospital bed.

[MP]

“Deserve?”

Aaron looked up, an odd light in his expression. It was something almost fierce, almost fervent, there and gone in a moment. Then his usual reserve was back. He sat back in his chair, his voice as placid as ever.

“I get what you’re trying to say. But there’s nothing to deserve. The department makes a difference. I’m proud to be a part of that.”

[jarahamee]

“Oh. You love your job, as I do.”

There was a note of playful admiration in Cassius’ voice, though his expression remained tired. Only a faint hint of a smile graced his scarred cheek, and he coughed softly. The potion had worked wonders, but not miracles. He pulled his blanket up under his chin, turning his gaze aside reluctantly.

“I am here every day, working. There is always something to do. Work is endless.”

His mind drifted a little bit, and he was grateful that he could focus on this instead of the dull pain in what felt like every part of his body, which was punctuated by sharper pain when he breathed.

“Take a week off twice a year. It will be good for you and your little family. The department will lose money paying out your vacation otherwise, so this is for the good of the department as well.”

Cassius’ voice was more commanding this time, though he knew well that he himself never took vacations anymore. As a supervisor on high level cases, here was always something to do, and it made paying out his vacation worthwhile every time. And this body could not die of exhaustion unless he really drove it hard.

Like he was doing now.

“I am proud to work with you, but you also must care for yourself. I want you to promise me that you will.”

[MP]

Aaron hesitated. There was no change in his expression, in the set of his shoulders or the line of his back. He didn't want to give false promises, or speak just to placate the old Gold, or dismiss his words outright. There was truth in them, and in the moment Aaron hesitated, the truth of him showed momentarily through. There was something earnest in that silence, something tired, something lost and vulnerable as the bandaged boy who had first come to the department. That boy had formed his discipline and identity around the department. Stripped of that reliance, even for a hypothetical moment, he seemed oddly unsure.

"I'll try," he said.

[jarahamee]

Cassius sunk back into the pillows. As much as he wanted to be up and about and back to normal activity, his body just wasn’t having it. He grumbled, thinking about how much muscle mass he was probably losing just laying in bed eating bland, low protein food every day for a week. He needed to start walking around (once there was less risk of opening his many incisions.)

“Th.. thank you boy.”

His broken voice sounded a little weaker. It was hard to keep his eyes open, and this time, he knew it wasn’t just the drugs. He had worn himself out with a conversation. How pitiful.

The scarred man closed his eyes. His head was incredibly heavy on his pillow now. Agent Telmore would never listen to him, not truly. The man was too stubborn about a great many things, and no number of people telling him was going to change that. It was just as well.

“You.. I’ll let you go. Thank you for coming. I get…lonely.”

He smiled crookedly to show he was joking, and sighed. His chest hurt more than ever. The tightness was pressing, but it was also reassuring. He was alive and would continue to heal, and soon enough, he’d be chasing all the traffickers.

[MP]

Aaron nodded once. Whether acknowledging the permission to leave or a sympathetic gesture, it was hard to tell from his expression, back to its usual reserve.

"Get good rest," he said, standing. "I'll visit again soon."

He wasn't sure whether Cassius was joking or not, and Aaron chose not to ask. 'Soon' seemed like a good middle ground.

[jarahamee]

“I’ll do my best. It’s so boring here, I keep hoping my steak and beer will come trotting in here to entertain me.”

Agent Lucidus rolled onto his side, half-closing his eyes. His mind was still alert, straining to listen to the chatter beyond the door, making out the vague shape of words in a conversation that he knew had nothing to do with him. He just could not help himself.

“You promise to take care of yourself too, boy, you hear?”

His voice was a soft wheeze as he tried to close his eyes. His mind wandered away from him, both distant and acutely aware of where the pen was under the sheets, the sound of people walking in the halls, and the soft beeping of machinery.

Cassius was a killer through and through, and nothing would change that, would it?

He listened to Agent Telmore’s footsteps retreating as the man made his way to the door, the soft thunk of the mechanism closing behind him. He tried not to stretch his consciousness out further to feel his retreat down the corridor.

Then, he was left alone with his own muddled thoughts and dreams.