darkinferno | [ic inbox]

More slashed, it got my chest...but I knew as long as I worked fast I'd be fine. Cover it, bind up the area tight, don't overexert myself. I'm pretty sure I could have healed from it on my own given the changes, but...

[but Ardyn had insisted, even as she had tried to protest, knowing the cost of his magic.]

I'm more glad it didn't incapacitate anyone else.

[But...] The prof insisted on healing it? [He gives her a knowing look.] He did the same thing to me, too.

[He... can't say anything to the second part. Sorry, Grell, he's avoiding that thought.]

He did. Told me I was being foolish for struggling through it and that I could have just asked him.

[she shakes her head a little as she works more on the food.]

I didn't want to drain him anymore if he was already exhausted from tending to his team.

[There's a wince from Dante as he realizes just how much healing Ardyn had probably been doing over the past few weeks.]

He's the foolish one. [There's no real venom in his voice as he says it; rather, he's a bit agitated trying to avoid thinking about how far the prof would push himself without someone to slow him down.] He probably didn't tell any of them how it worked and nearly killed himself healing all of them. He tries to pretend like it's not true, but the prof's got a bleeding heart.

I know he didn't tell any of them.

[she says it while not looking at Dante, but she means it - she'd gotten that much information out of Ardyn when she'd seen him back then.]

He cares so much, he doesn't want anyone to be hurt if he can do something to mend it, no matter what it costs to him, and god, I understand the idea but...

[but she'd rather bear pain and bruises and have to worry about reopening her wounds than have him feel that pain, like he needs to take on that burden.]

Does he realize that he needs to look to himself sometimes? That if he isn't first and foremost alright himself he won't be able to take care of other people? Because if he runs himself into the ground at the wrong time-

[no. she can't let herself think like that. she has to just be grateful she can convince him to sit down and let her look to his wounds.

by the look on her face, it's clear this has been sitting with her for all the weeks.]

I'm just glad it's over.

That's why the rest of us are here.

[It's a surprisingly simple answer, for all the emotions and worries attached to the topic. Dante looks at his hands in his lap, thumb rubbing the place on his hand where there ought to be scar tissue growing.]

Even in the memories he's told me about. It sounds like he was the same sort of guy then, willing to give up everything he had to help the people around him.

[And it had rotted him from the inside out, unless Dante's missing his guess. But what Ardyn's told him sounds too familiar, too alike to the corruption of the darkness... he doesn't think he's wrong. However, he won't mention this part; Grell already looks too worried about him in this life to add that worry on top of everything else.]

I told him a while ago that if I needed to, I'd knock him out to keep him from pushing himself too far. I know I'm not the only one that feels that way, too.

So if he won't look after himself, we'll just have to be there to do it for him.

[she takes a deep breath and nods, moving to tip the ingredients of the bowl she was mixing in into a pan, and turning it on.]

Next time I'll just call you and tell you that your talents are needed.

[a weak joke, but joking all the same. it helps to hear that. even though she knows that other people would help in the situation, it still feels right to hear that.]

But...thank you. I'm glad there's more than just one set of eyes on him.

You're not the only one that worries about him, you know. You just might be the one that worries the most.

[He watches the pan for a moment, letting his words sit. But after a moment, he adds:]

A couple months ago his brother called me up and asked me to keep an eye out for him too.

[He'd made him a deal that he'd protect Ardyn as long as Fynn kept an eye out for Prompto in return.]

Between all of us, we'll keep him safe.

[she nods, letting the mixture cook and the subject rest for now. when it's time, she flips the now obvious omelette, asking Dante to get a plate and a fork, and eventually ending up with a dish for him that she's taken pains to make sure will be at least somewhat spicy, but also nutritious. if he's been drinking hard alcohol he needs something to make sure he remembers what it feels like to be hungry.]

I promise nothing other than it's edible. Baking's more my style.

[It's still more than he's expecting--Dante takes the plate with a bit of hesitation, as though he can't quite believe that it's actually for him. (It's stupid, and he chides himself for it, but hey, the last time somebody he wasn't actively seeing made him food was... how long ago?]

You already went through the trouble of making it. That's enough.

[And honestly, as much as he doesn't really want to eat at all, the smell of the eggs cooking have reminded his stomach that he hasn't eaten in nearly a full day, after how little he'd eaten with the rest of his team through the month. So he's digging in and even if it's simple, it's not apples or tinned vegetables or the other scraps of food they'd been able to scrounge up; it's fresh and it's hot and it's seasoned and it's the best thing he's had all month.]

It's... this is really good, Grell. Thank you.

[Please excuse his terrible manners; he's eating standing up and doesn't give a fuck. But after the first bite, he'll nod his head toward the living room.]

Do you want to sit down now?

[Let's not stand here in the kitchen watching him eat, please... Dante doesn't usually feel awkward that often, but this could do it.]

[it's something with at least one vegetable in it and it'll fill him up - that had been her thought process. even if his world was collapsing around him, it didn't do to neglect one's physical health in the process. that he's eating it is all she could ask.

though she does nod when he asks if she wants to sit and politely turns away - she'll insist on cleaning up later. going to the couch, she carefully pushes the blanket away so she has a place to sit, diffusing the awkwardness like that.]

If you paid enough attention, you can replicate it for yourself any time you like.

[He'll follow her into the living room, plate in hand, stepping up onto the other end of the couch before sitting down cross-legged.]

Yeah. It's just eggs and whatever else you want, right?

[His omelettes usually turn into scrambled eggs, but that's not the point here!]

Yes, but I found it works best if you mix in seasonings into the eggs before cooking them. Everything else, it's up to you in how you add it in. When I don't feel like getting too fancy with cooking and anything else sounds like a hassle, this is what I make.

[when you're an adult, half the time you're just pretending to be an adult. better Dante learn that now instead of later.]

I guess that makes sense.

[He's well on his way! He's been living on his own for nearly three years now; easy dishes are his saving grace. He's making note of the seasoning though; he's only ever really used salt and pepper with eggs and adding something else really brings it to a different level. Good thinking!

That all being said, he's just gonna. Sit and eat, because although he knows he shouldn't let the silence fall and stretch, he doesn't know what he should say either. So Dante keeps his attention on his plate for now. But there are a bunch of papers on the coffee table in addition to everything else, papers that look to be (should Grell choose to take a look!) a contract between a C. Vanderweele and an unreadable second party, outlining the terms and conditions for building the Retrospec headquarters on land in Recollé and issuing a building permit. Beneath them are a set of blueprints for the building, showing how it spreads outwards beneath the city before emerging above ground outside of the city limits again. Retrospec's roots spread wide!

But once he's finished, Dante's at a loss. Where does he go from there? What is Grell looking for from him? It's true that he feels a little bit less adrift than he did when she first showed up, but he still feels like he's missing something, like there's a question being asked that he doesn't have the answer for.]

So... is this the part where I'm supposed to talk about things?

[Is that what she's waiting for...?]

[she looks, but within the bounds of propriety - she's not going to dig through his papers without him saying it's fine, not linger on them more than the casual look that tells her a lot. Retrospec is enormous, really, and that's important to know. but while he eats, she takes out her phone, composing a quick email for work and checking posts - everything to seem as casual about it as possible. when he asks the question, she looks up.]

Not if you don't want to. I told you, I'm not going to force you to talk about anything - you can tell me in your own time, and in the meanwhile you should know that if you need help or simply to be somewhere that's not here, you can call. I may sleep at human hours, but I'll pick up for you.

You may not want to make that offer. [Dante sets his plate down on the chaise extension so that he can't fidget with it, looking at his hands.] You might wind up getting calls at 4am if you do.

[But even so, there's this tiny spark of warmth inside of him, this feeling he can't quite place. A sense that... that he actually matters to her, that what she offers now is more than a sense of duty owed to him but instead a choice that she's making. A choice, where he is more important than time, than schedules, than approaching the next day with a full night's rest...

Will wonders never cease...?]

It's... pretty dangerous.

[sleep, she's found, she can catch up on in various ways. it's more important if someone needs her to get up, to listen - that couldn't be redone. if Dante trusted her enough to call, then she was ready to pick up, and sometimes it was simply easier to say things in the dead of night. to admit to needing help, company, to exist in a way that required someone to not laugh and instead hold out their hand. better he learn that it was fine to exist like that now, instead of going through the motions as he gets older to then crash into it and have to struggle to understand.

if she can give him that, she wants to, and the decision is very simple.]

I think I can handle the danger.

[There's a plainness in his expression, a vulnerability that few will ever see. Honestly, he doesn't know how to respond to Grell's certainty, except to ask one final question, one last attempt at regaining his balance in this new territory.]

Why would you do all this for me...?

What's the catch?

Should there be a catch?

[she looks at him with an honest confusion.]

I'm doing it because I want to. Because you're you, and I care about you. That's all the reason there is, promise.

["Catch? What's the catch? Silly boy. You’re like a son to me. I only want you to be happy..."

He doesn't realize he's been holding his breath until he releases it, lifting a hand to rub at his face. There's no burning in his eyes this time, no trace of tears, but it feels so different from when Maleficent said it, so much more sincere. She isn't offering him this because of a deal they've made, she isn't expecting him to do anything for her in return...

She cares about him. Him, not what he can offer her or the promise he might symbolize.]

I'm not... really used to that, is all.

I don't really know what to say.

[But for the first time since she's been there, there's a shyer, boyish smile spreading across his face, a stark difference from the smirks and grins he usually wears.]

[the smile that crosses her face is soft, genuine, really. finally, he gets it. no hidden meanings in it, no deals. simply that she stumbled into caring about him and what condition he's in - and she means it.]

There's no etiquette on how to handle this, so I think you're in the clear, whatever you do. Just keep in mind that this exists for you, and that's enough.

[It's that expression--simple, open, sincere--that finally makes him have to look away, coughing under the pretense of clearing his throat and blinking a few times to relieve the burning sensation that's suddenly come back to them. Dammit, Grell, don't make him cry; he's supposed to be too much of an arrogant idiot for stuff like that! He nods, a tiny motion at first and then a stronger one, choosing this time to accept her words at face value. Grell... he can trust her. If she's looked at him and seen something worth her time, something worth caring about...]

Yeah... yeah. I will. I promise.

Thank you, Grell. You don't... you don't know what this means to me.

[She can't know, because even he is still realizing how deep the meaning goes, striking him to his very core. It's one of those moments, he realizes, a moment where the entire world seems to pivot around one focus before it settles into place again. It did it once a couple months ago, when Ardyn had included him with Prompto and Souji and Yu as he'd described himself as a tired father chasing after sons, and again when Togusa had pointed out so simply that he cared about him, that apparently that feeling ran so strongly. Now, it's happened a third time.]

Can I... ask you one other question?

[if she knows what's actually going on, she has the decency to not show it. to pretend that he's just fine and preserve his pride - because he's young enough to need it, and because it gives her the chance to have this settle in her heart. people weren't let close with her - they simply ended up there by circumstance and some coincidental design - but even so. even so it feels less like a duty and more what simply should be.]

Of course. Anything.

[The way she responds, without hesitation and so willingly, almost makes him want to rescind his question. "No, never mind," he might say, and then this feeling of lightness in the air would perhaps remain for a little while longer...

But no, because he can already feel the truth in the back of his mind, nudging at him in spite of this newfound connection, this warmth in his heart. Waiting for him to turn away.]

How do you... [Ugh. He doesn't want to admit this. But when, if not now?]

I can't... really sleep very well. Do you know anything that would help with that?

[Some way to avoid the nightmares that plague him?]

Depends on the cause.

[and she looks thoughtful for a moment.]

How long has this been going on? And have you made any recent changes to your life that might have affected your sleep?

[it's with that same sincerity - treating this as a problem they can fix. she can look at this as a doctor might, not a counselor trying to pick apart his brain. again and again she'll protest that none of this is her specialty, that she's not that sort of doctor, but when it comes to sleep...she's had issues of her own. this is something she can address a little bit.]

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i'm still upset about those keywords 8(

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