False Sympathy [Neph]

[Cheesigator]

TrickShot: If anything curing the dry sepll before it will probably just make it worse
Ikaros: Welp. I think I'm gonna make that appointment and then go get some lunch. Later.
Ace: What makes you say that Trick?
Po: sleep boners
Ace: Ah. Meh.
TrickShot: Hadn't thought of that. Just meant you break the spell you're going to want it more
Po: I've been fine. except for the sleep boner.
Ace: Hm Ikaros might have some issues then
Po: why's that?

Ace: Nevermind.




A fuzzy green and eggplant purple ear twitched, both lowering as Gray pursed their lips, thumbs hovering over the keyboard of their phone as they stared at the screen illuminating their face. They'd scrolled up to Ikaros's last message and lingered on it, reading it over and over but not really reading it. They weren't seeing the words, but they knew they were there.

Nevermind.

Yeah.

Nevermind.

A swath of chills enveloped them as they continued the conversation half-mindedly with whoever the fuck else was in chat. It'd been so long since they'd paid any attention to it, they only recognized a few people here and there. Deacon and Eit weren't in there. And they'd already pushed away Jakael.

It wasn't that they hated him--well, no. Even that was kind of a lie. They didn't hate him but it sometimes felt like they did. Did they? They didn't know. They could say the same about Deacon and Eit. They could say the same about themself.

Finally they pocketed their phone, realizing they'd been standing in the corner of a building on the busy street of food stalls downtown. The air felt dead and every breath was weighted in their lungs as they stared out at the sea of faces surrounding them. Call it cliche but they had never felt more alone.

They'd done it to themself, and they knew it.

They swallowed the lump in their throat, remembering what Dak told them the few times they would ever worry about something. That worrying wouldn't change anything, and then he'd ruffle their hair. That energy spent worrying could be spent fixing it instead.

But Dak, they didn't know how to fix this.

Their brows knit as they glanced down at their phone, clutched tightly in their hand and hidden in their hoodie pocket. For a while things had been good, but then they'd decided to go and fuck everything up by getting attached to him--Jakael was a really, really sweet guy. Even if he had a mullet. It was hard not to like him, even if he screwed around and partied too much, made Gray worry. But Dak had been their best friend, and in this dangerous job the idea of getting attached was stupid--real stupid. Especially when you never knew who was gonna come out on the other side alive after every single battle.

They didn't wanna see anything bad happen to Jakael. Hell, something bad already had happened. And there was nothing they could do about it--and that was the worst part. The part that troubled them the most.

That no matter what they ever did, they would never, ever be able to help him.

Their heart clenched painfully in their chest and they sucked in a breath, suddenly darting out into the crowd to walk aimlessly. Normally they'd have been bouncing between every stall getting all the fish snacks they could afford. Normally they'd have been pestering Deacon or Eit or Jak to come join them for an adventure.

But Deacon was dying and Eit was dying with him. And Jak...

The brief memory of glancing through his window, hand raised to knock on the door and ask if he wanted to join them for lunch. Seeing the two shapes on the other side of the glass, the company he had over.

They swallowed hard and fought down the swelling of negative emotions that roiled up in their chest, made them want to sprint and run as far away as their feet would carry them. That's what they hated the most about the Libra station--there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. It wasn't nearly large enough. Those planet dwellers didn't know what they had; if they wanted to run away, they really could. They could flee to entirely different countries, continents. Escape to places where nobody would ever find them again.

They'd done the calculations a few times in their head, and putting pen to paper. How much fuel the tank of their ship held, the mileage, how far away some place like Edanith was. Or hell, even the Cancer. They'd even thought about Aedolis--cause if it was so easy for Jakael to bury himself in other people and parties, then they could probably do it too. Aedolis was the kingdom for that like no other. They'd just have to give up all of their freedom and willpower--and for as stubborn and prideful as they were, that sounded mighty damn good.

Having no control over their life, just letting the world run it for them while they sat in the backseat in a mindless daze. They didn't have any control right now, did they? It didn't feel like it--it felt like they were stuck in the pilot's seat, straining desperately over the weight over the ship on the steering and no matter what it wouldn't right its course. They were headed straight for collision in a neverending asteroid field and one of these rocks would be too big to avoid, to scrape by.

That was the way their life had been now ever since Dak died.

Maybe it would be better for everyone, themself included, if they just disappeared.

[nephero]

   Jak didn’t know where he kept going wrong.

   It wasn’t like he tried to piss Gray off. But no matter what he did he seemed to screw things up. It had been going well, too! Or, at least it had been going well for a little while. It had taken a long time and a lot of fish, but Gray had seemed to be warming up, and then…

   And then Jak didn’t know what. It just seemed to all run hot and cold every other day. One day Gray would be friendly, and then the next day would barely acknowledge him beyond what was needed for work. At first Jakael had chalked it up to stress— between Deacon’s illness and all that, it had been understandable. And Jakael didn’t exactly know any of them well enough to offer anything other than… well. He didn’t know. A stuffed animal fish.

   Gods none, that had been lame. Was that it? Just lame piled on top of lame until Gray just couldn’t stand it? Jak thought of the moments where they almost got on and inwardly cringed. Had Gray just been playing nice? Had they just been trying to make this assignment work? Had all of that finally boiled over to where even playing nice wasn’t an option? Did they just straight up hate him now?

   Zero for two, then. The elf’s shoulders slumped even as he carried on the walkway, hands jammed into his pockets and boots barely making it off the ground. It was really only by virtue of his considerable height that he was making any headway at all. Not that he really had any destination in mind. He’d mentioned getting lunch, but the thought of eating anything at all just left him with an ashy taste in his mouth.

   Maybe just a drink, then. Given, it was barely into the afternoon, but who was counting? He was already an embarrassment to be around, a chore to be attached to, so why not act like it? Jak looked up, trying to place where exactly he’d wandered off to and where the nearest source of alcohol was in relation to that information. Inadvertently, he caught sight of himself in the shop window beside him and made a face at it. Touched his hair and made another face again.

   Well, there was embarrassment number one if he ever saw it. Or so he’d been told. He’d kind of liked it, but so far he’d been the only one. And no matter how much Jakael had tried to be okay with being ‘the only one’, it was hard work. And lonely. And he was just so tired of it.

   Maybe a haircut and then a drink, then. A little something new. It was only a matter of time before Gray walked in to work to serve him a notice of transfer, anyway. Why not just make a whole event of it? New hair (again), new partner (again), go to work (again), get drunk (again), and find someone who could stand to be with him for a couple hours before they ran off  and he was alone(again).

   An hour or so later had Jak leaving the barber’s, touching at the bare nape of his neck and telling himself this was for the best. He’d be fine. He’d always been fine. His one and only in the world hadn’t wanted him, and that was fine. His friends dropped off the face of the station one by one, and that was fine. And his new partner— cute and prickly and a fiend for sushi and mischievous and feisty and so, so funny— Gray would finally have enough and go on their way with someone they could actually bond with and trust and… that was fine.

   Jakael was a good interim jockey. Someone to fill the gap. Jak was good at that. He could be fine with that. He could. He had to.

   He had to. What else could he do?

   Besides get drunk. Right. That was something that definitely needed to happen. Or at least, that had been the plan right up until he turned a corner and bumped full-body into someone much smaller than him. Much, much smaller and much, much fluffier.

   Gray.

   Shit.

   Jak cleared his throat, and moved to help steady the mage before thinking better of it. What if that was one of the things they couldn’t stand about him? He was always the touchy feely sort, what if that had been part of the problem. His fingers twitched, and the jockey found a decent middle ground in pulling his arms to his chest, pretending to brace against the chill air-conditioned ventilation of the station.

   “Shit. Sorry. Hi.” Jak said, lamely, one word after the other and each worse than the last. Hi. Really, Jak? Really? No wonder they couldn’t wait to get rid of him.

[Cheesigator]

Honestly, for all the attention they were paying on sense of direction, it was a miracle Gray hadn't run into anyone sooner.

One moment they were buried so deep in their thoughts they felt as though they were slowly suffocating, the next they were being violently wrenched from them with the sudden impact of another body against theirs. A sharp intake of breath revealed that familiar scent and their heart skipped a beat, but when they looked up at him they did a double take.

Gone was the fluffy lion's mane of hair he'd had cut into that stupidass mullet that... That they had secretly been coming to love seeing. Cause that head of hair was Jakael, and whenever he was nearby there might always be a tiny part of Gray that would be happy because of it. But now all that hair had disappeared, and he was sporting a shorter style instead.

He hardly looked like himself, and for a moment they could have sworn their heart dropped into their stomach.

"J-Jakael." They said, quiet but loud enough that he could at the very least hear.

Gray's ears swiveled this way and that, partially because of the sounds, but also due to the conflicting emotions, until they flattened down against their head and they awkwardly glanced away, reaching up to run their fingers through their hair, which was ironically in desperate need of a trim.

"Didn't realize you'd be here." Despite him saying he was gonna go get some lunch not even a half an hour ago. Duh, Gray. "I, um,"

Their tail tucked itself against one of their legs as their emotions waged war with their thoughts; what they wanted to do, what they thought they should do, what they actually needed to do. It was like this all the time now--if the conversation wasn't strictly professional between two coworkers, then they were fumbling, which really wasn't like them at all. The mere fact that they kept stumbling over their words whenever in his presence was throwing them for a loop, making them question everything they thought they knew about themself.

Gray Torai felt, for the first time, so utterly loss and defenseless not even their sass or smartass mouth could save them.

Gray wanted to talk to him, spend time with him. They so, so desperately wanted to go back to the way it was before; having lunch together occasionally, bullshitting and making each other laugh by being dorks. That had been fun. Endearing. Like old times.

It had been wonderful.

And now Libra's resident fox demon had dug themself a grave so deep they felt as though they couldn't ever climb back out, and that was probably right. They wanted to ask if they could join him, hang out, do something, but the image flashed across their mind of Jakael with that other person and the cold chill that seized their stomach and clenched up their spine was undeniable.

And it was all they could see every time they looked at him.

"Sorry."

Was all they could finally say as they gave up; time to abandon ship, turn tail and run, like they did almost every fucking time now. They started to turn on their heel to walk back in the direction they came from, no clue where to go as long as it was somewhere that wasn't here with him. Every goddamn time they saw him after work, every goddamn time he ever even hinted at hanging out. Every goddamn time they looked him in the eyes, or brushed against him, or caught a whiff of his fucking scent.

Just go, Gray. There's nothing you can do here, anyways.

[nephero]

   Gray looked… less than thrilled to see him. The notion was to be expected, of course, but still. Seeing it in the flesh always carried that extra sting, like the barb in his skin had been twisted just as soon as he’d gotten used to the sensation of it being there.

   Jak looked to the side, just as Gray’s ears flattened against their skull, took a deep breath and let it out in a short little sigh. He rubbed at one arm, as if the friction of sensation might help calm the twisting feeling in his gut. He wanted to say something, anything, try to crack a joke and a smile and just… anything to ease the tension and maybe get those fox ears back up and less defensive.

   Jakael didn’t want much in this life. Surely it wasn’t asking so much that his partner not feel awful to be around him? He still didn’t even know what it was that he did, but the compulsion to fix it, to do something to make up for whatever grievous thing he’d done, was overwhelming. Even if Gray wanted a reassignment, Jak would want them to part on amicable terms at least. Maybe still be friends if they couldn’t work together. Or at least not be yet another person who avoided looking at Jak any time they passed each other in the halls.

   Before Jak could think of anything, though, Gray was turning on their heel to walk away, and suddenly that twisting barb was being jammed even deeper into his chest, the poisoned tip mere millimeters from his upper heart and stinging the whole way. No, not like this, not again, not like this—

   “Wait,” he said, stepping forward in long, quick strides to cut Gray off, hands raised in what he hoped was a nonthreatening manner. Last thing he needed now was to make Gray feel even shittier about being near him. “Wait, please. Gray, I—”

   Now that he was here, though, what could he do? What could he say? He couldn’t just block Gray forever, but everything that he wanted to say was a jumbled chaotic mess, each question bubbling up in a furious race to be the first asked.

   “Listen, I… I don’t know what I did to— to upset you, or, annoy you, or, what— but please. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, whatever it is that I did, I’m sorry.”

   None of this was making sense, and even Jak knew he was rambling, the elf taking a pause to swallow against the sudden dryness of his mouth and throat, unable to look Gray directly in the face and so fixating on those fluffy, pinned ears. Ears that spoke volumes about how much Gray did not want to be here. With Jakael.

   Biting back the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry, because yeah, that would really fix things, Jak took another breath and lowered his hands, letting them hang limply by his side and trying his hardest to avoid clenching his fists.

   “I’m sorry. I get it, if it’s, y’know. If you don’t want to work with me anymore. If what I did was that bad or you just don’t, y’know, like the fit, or…”

   Another shaking breath, another moment to steady his unraveling nerves, before Jak finally bit the bullet and looked directly into Gray’s face, tracing every curve of his cheeks and trying to memorize the exact shade of those silver-gold eyes. Before they never met his again.

   “I just, I want to know what it was I did. Please, just tell me what I did wrong, and I swear to whatever gods will listen that I’ll never bother you again. Was it the fish? Was that too weird? Did I say something when I was drunk? Did I do something when I was drunk? Is it my flying? Is it the hair— well I mean that’s, that’s gone now, but…”

   He trailed off there, shrugging limply as he ran out of all the possibilities there were for Gray to dislike him, and more than a little horrified that there were so many ways for Gray to dislike him.

[Cheesigator]

Gray was forced to come to an abrupt halt when the elf's long legs let him slide so easily in front of the fox to bar them from escape. They gave a bit of a start, fear leaping up into their chest at the prospect of being forced to face whatever... Whatever this was.

Whatever any of this was.

They looked up at him as he asked them to wait, and realized he wasn't looking at them. Looking at the top of their head, or something just past that. They threw a nervous glance over their shoulder and saw nothing, looking back at him as if they expected his jaw to be on the ground because he'd seen some juicy piece of ass down the way behind them. He said he was sorry for whatever he did, and that in combination with that mental image, and with remembering what Gray had seen that they never should've, it made their fox fire flare up in their heart as it started thudding faster in their chest.

Painfully fast, every beat stung and they looked away as they set their jaw and opened their mouth, but he interrupted them.


“I’m sorry. I get it, if it’s, y’know. If you don’t want to work with me anymore. If what I did was that bad or you just don’t, y’know, like the fit, or…”


They blinked, those words catching their attention more than anything else as their gaze suddenly snapped back to him, the anger quelling for a moment as they stared at him. Studied the look in his face, his posture, tried to read what those words actually meant. If there was a hidden meaning.

Did that mean he wanted reassignment?

Gray had never once implied, or threatened, or even thought of leaving Jakael for some other pilot. Sure, they'd thought of leaving him, leaving everyone--running away and never coming back. But reassignment? Never.

He asked what he'd done, like he wanted to know. He asked about that plush fish he'd given them that they clung desperately to and cried into every night, and they dropped their gaze again with a soft snort as the burning anger, the frustration, the confusion and loss as to how they should proceed from here all came welling up into shining salty tears in their eyes that made them suck in a shaky breath in an attempt to stop it--it didn't work.

Their own emotions were unjustified. They knew that. They knew that, realistically speaking, Jakael had never done anything wrong.

He was a free man, free to do as he pleased. Who he pleased. He'd never asked or made Gray to feel the way they did, and that was why they stayed trapped in this perpetual loop of always wanting to say something, but knowing they had no right to. Knowing it'd be pointless even if they did. They had no right to be mad at him, no right to...

They focused their gaze on the ground so he hopefully wouldn't see the tears that were already starting to stream down their cheeks, their small body tense as they held back the urge to burst into sobs. They were a fucking wreck. They had been for years now, this was just the straw that broke the camel's back. Jak didn't deserve any of this.

Jak didn't deserve it when Gray got an idea and nodded, that fire burning in them making them use those shape shifting abilities of theirs in the worst possible of ways. One moment it was Gray standing there, and the next there was a ripple and a mane of long hair was tossed over their shoulder as they looked at him with the face of that person he'd spend the night with when Gray had seen them.

They crossed their arms over their chest, tears still running in silent tracks down their cheeks as they stared him down, tilting their head a little to the side.


"You didn't do anything," They said in the voice of that other person tone trembling and cold, "But if reassignment is what you want, then I'll have the paperwork in by 5."

Using the new height difference to their advantage they shouldered past him, changing back to their normal self because for a moment they had glanced down at their hands and almost felt sick to their stomach. Low move, real low, they knew it, it always was. To impersonate someone else like that was really shitty, and Jak didn't deserve it, and they immediately regretted it, which was why they tried to escape yet again and get lost in that crowd before he could catch them again, because they didn't wanna talk about it. They never wanted to talk about it.

He didn't deserve it and it wasn't his fault.