log; complete

[haroicsacrifice.livejournal.com]

When; Way backdated due to connection issues. August 7.
Rating; PG for excess moe.
Characters; Lockon Stratos (haroicsacrifice) and Tieria Erde (worthier).
Summary; Lockon returns to the City, but before he can relax, Tieria needs to see him with his own eyes.
Log;

It's almost dark out, and Lockon is still readjusting as he makes his way to the end of the beach and back towards the City proper. He doesn't remember anything much about where he was just now, if he was anywhere, but somehow, it's hard to adjust to there being shadows. If he closes his good eye, he can almost make out something sparkling in his memory--

He forces himself to reopen that eye. There's a selfish part of him that still wishes he was back there, wherever it was, but another part is glad to be here and able to see the others again. Still, it's not quite enough to make him smile, not on his own. He still looks distant and removed as he starts on the last stretch back towards the gate leading into the City.



As for himself, Tieria can only wish for a clearer train of thought while he rushes there-- it would be more than suspicious for anyone to see either of them near the Gundam with nothing to conceal it, some critical yet distant voice might have repeated in his mind-- but now, even he knows that security is only worth salvaging when there's anything left to hide.

As if it mattered. Lockon had said he was "fine."

Eyes bleary from the days of working alone in the apartment, of waiting all the while, he does his level best to mask the desperation welling up inside as he draws closer to that gate. It continues to seem out of reach, and there are a few seconds where he wonders whether or not it's another illusion, this city toying with him, or perhaps a dream. Anything apart from the truth he wanted.



He's visible in pieces, like a ship coming up over the horizon. That messy hair, then the eyepatch, then the rest of his expressionless face. It's at that point, as he ascends the platform to the gateway, that Lockon sees Tieria approaching, and he smiles. He's still tired from the sudden onset of reality. It's not as carefree a smile as he'd like. It's a little rueful, a little pleased, a little tender.

Of course, try as Tieria might to hide it, Lockon can tell how desperate he is. He crosses the threshold, quickens his pace, and approaches Tieria, to stand only a few feet away from him. "Yo, Tieria." He blinks down at him, trying to figure out how to make it better (and he starts to breathe, if only to reassure Tieria). An idea comes to him, and he laughs. "I did promise, once..."



Already he's stopped dead in his tracks, an attempt to make up for not having the patience or the trust to do so earlier. Now Tieria's own approach is a slow one, his body beginning to relax in an albeit subtle way, and the hint of something other than Lockon's familiar smile doesn't completely escape him. But he hardly has time or desire to think about it, not now.

"Promise?" His brows knit in confusion, abruptly replacing the combination of pain and relief he'd shown only seconds before. Then again, it's an abrupt thing for Lockon to say. There's more he should be saying in return, but he refrains at this point. He has the distinct feeling that he may end up choking them out if he tries.



That look of pain and relief is in and of itself almost enough to stop Lockon in his tracks. He doesn't want Tieria to look like that. He wants him to look confident, content in his own right, reassured even without Lockon's presence. But at the same time, there's something terribly appealing about it. About knowing that when he comes back here, he has someone who wants him. Even if Setsuna is growing out of it; even if Lyle never needed him like that, no matter how much Neil might have wished he did.

His expression softens again. "I guess it might not have seemed that way at the time. But I did tell you I'd give you that hug someday. Now is as good a time as any, right?" Now is a better time than some, he thinks, because maybe it'll clear up some of that unsettling sincerity in Tieria's face, replace it with entertaining fluster.

Lockon leans forward before Tieria can protest or startle away, puts an arm out, wraps it around Tieria's shoulders, and hugs him close. Just the one arm, mind you--both would be a little too close to a lover's embrace, and somehow that's just kind of weird with Tieria. One second, two seconds, three seconds, then he lets go.



Far from having the presence of mind to back away even if he wanted to, he does start at the sudden and unfamiliar sensation of an arm folding around him -- what would have been warmth, he can't help reminding himself -- less so than Lockon may expect, incredibly odd human thing though it is. Because there have been months to adapt, and this is no ordinary arm. Instead, all he can do is stay rooted at the spot, arms awkwardly half-raised in reflex so that each hand grips at Lockon's vest. Allow himself the small freedom to feel it, because at the very least, he can try to be human too. Someone believes he can.

Then it's over, and as with their past fighting alongside each other and his own need of him, Tieria quite suddenly finds himself reluctant to let go. The difference here: he knows how to. Wide-eyed, he's quick to straighten up, not sure just what is customary after a gesture like that, hoping Lockon will lead him if he needs do anything. "I thought you were referring to something else." To how he'd never hurt them again by staying away for long, or does part of Tieria want so desperately to hear that from him, even if he knows full well that this City renders "promises" impossible every day? He'd rather not have said it that way, giving an impression of disappointment when that isn't the case at all, but it's been a long time since losing moderation over some faculty or another wasn't the common theme around Lockon.



Somehow, Tieria always manages to do something unexpected in situations like these. This time, it's not the slight start that gets to Lockon, or even Tieria's reluctance to let go. It's the way he raises his hands to the vest and...holds on. Lockon is a little too grateful when it's over. He doesn't want to have to examine how that makes him feel. (Tieria held onto him. That's so much better than simply being held--and so much worse, because it's dangerous.)

So when Tieria does let go, Lockon takes a step back, making the distance between them comfortable again, and he smiles to cover up a sudden pang of guilt. Of course he knows what that "something else" is. Even if Tieria can still surprise him, he remains painfully transparent in some ways as well. "If I could," he says quietly, "I'd promise to stay here as long as you and Setsuna are here, too." He hesitates, then adds with a gentler smile, "I promise, if the City lets me, I'll say goodbye next time." His voice goes stern: "You'll be all right, though, with or without a goodbye. You can handle it, and don't let me catch you thinking otherwise."



And at first, he tries to follow, growing too used to the safety he felt there before remembering himself. It takes longer than usual before he breaks eye contact, respecting the distance with a somber nod. Somehow, in response to Lockon's insistence, his voice manages to find that determination once more. "...It's difficult." (An explanation. Never an excuse.) "But in order to change that world, I want to do everything possible." He can, and will, regardless of how unfair-- no other choice remains. For his sake... and perhaps, for more than that, finally knowing what it means to have that tangible reason for fighting. Still, this isn't distracting Tieria from the fact that Lockon is doing it again: turning the subject away from himself and onto the listener, not where it should matter most. "What will you do then, Lockon?" From a practical standpoint, hearing what the dead experienced when they faded out of this place could be valuable. From another, the likely prospect of Lockon alone in some immeasurable void without any of the experiences he'd taken the trouble to show him, ceasing to exist, is enough to make something unidentifiable sink inside him. What's more, there is the nagging knowledge that Lockon may not mind that sort of fate.



Eye contact--now that Lockon doesn't mind. Or he wouldn't normally--somehow Tieria manages to make it more intense than usual. Still, it's another human thing, and Lockon relaxes enough to smile. That smile softens as Tieria makes that promise. And it's obviously a promise. "...That's good." He's not sure what he should say next. He never meant to be guiding Tieria for this long, after all. It's bordering on unknown territory by now.

When Tieria gives him an out, it's in the form of something he wants to talk about even less. But he owes Tieria at least a little. "I don't know," he says honestly. "I don't remember much, from the time I wasn't here. There was light, and I wasn't unhappy. That's all." He doesn't know where the light came from, if it was real or if it was the misfirings of last dying neurons or if his memories of it now are simply an illusion crafted by this place. He's certainly not about to tell Tieria the entire truth: that a week ago here, when he opened a door and saw that it led back home, he stepped through willingly. Nor is he about to tell himself the truth behind that: if he'd given himself another minute to consider, he would have stayed, because he's built something of a life here, and there are enough people to smile at and take care of that it's more than worth living. It's only the weary self-destructive impulse to flee the future that draws him back to death.

The thought flickers dangerously close to the surface of his mind, though, and he knows he has to change the subject back, and in a way that Tieria can't flee from. He knows immediately what to say. "It doesn't matter, though. Wherever I am, I'll still be proud of you, Tieria."



"I--" Compliments will never be his strong suit, whether it comes to giving or receiving them, so it's fortunate that the look on his face probably conveys his gratitude just as well. At this point in time, he does what he must, wouldn't know where to stand without that approval.

But one thing remains a problem any way he looks at it. Here, at least, Lockon can have a existence to live out. Encouraging. Smiling. Making terrible jokes. (Most especially, smiling.) All the sorts of things he would still be doing in their world, had it been different. For all its dangers and falsehoods, this place only offers a fraction of atonement for what Tieria allowed to happen-- still, what else is there? So when Tieria next speaks, even he is caught slightly off-guard. "It does matter! You taught me how imperative it is to live on, and that you would rather..." The former strength in his voice falters again, the words holding more meanings than he can be aware of.

"You will be alone." If any conditions worse than that could possibly exist, Tieria hasn't gone through them. Or perhaps all human fears are more varied than he can imagine, which is why he soon admits a little helplessly: "I'm trying to understand."

Slowly shaking his head and refocusing his attention on the beaten dirt path below his feet now, pointless effort to rid thoughts like these from his mind. He's had a say here, no matter what may happen.



It's things like how flustered Tieria gets at receiving compliments, and how awkward he is giving them, that make him so endearing to Lockon. Of course, that will remain a secret. It would be very difficult to explain, especially to Tieria himself.

As far as he knows, though, the most earnest and awkward part of the conversation is done. Lockon starts to walk forward again, heading back toward the apartment, assuming Tieria will follow. He only stops at that heated and utterly unexpected outburst from Tieria. Then he turns, startled and wide-eyed, and just watches Tieria approach along the path, trying to comprehend what he just said.

You will be alone. It's only now that it fully hits him why that doesn't bother him: because he's already been alone, because it's easier that way. It was easier to let Lyle separate the two of them and watch from afar than to be a real brother to him, even if Neil is making awkward, half-hearted attempts to fix that here. It was easier to just be a helpful and supportive mentor to the rest of Celestial Being instead of truly opening up to them. It's easier than admitting--

But he stops there, because there are some things he's not ready to acknowledge even now. Instead he smiles at Tieria, and what he voices now isn't entirely a falsehood. It's something that comforts him as well now. "I won't be alone." He curls a gloved hand into a fist, thumps it against where his heart should be beating but isn't. "I'll be with the rest of you. Allelujah, Sumeragi, and Feldt; Setsuna and my brother." He takes his fist from his own chest now and touches it against Tieria's. "And you."



The heart's sole function is to distribute blood throughout the circulatory system. It is a vital organ entirely unrelated to memories or regulating emotions, and so Tieria first frowns as if Lockon has seized another opportunity to tease him. "Lockon, that's hardly a rational conclusion."

(Speaking of, his own heartbeat is becoming much too rapid.)

But he's easily familiar enough with Lockon to notice that this expression doesn't quite fit, and then realizes his meaning goes deeper. For all that the small and empty void after failing to meet Veda's unyielding standard, the irrational relief after understanding the briefest glimpse of humanity on that island, and everything between were wholly unfamiliar -- they all managed, for whatever reason, to find some center around the chest. A simple concept, really. And still an odd way of describing such processes. The more he comprehends some small way of keeping him alive, though, the less Tieria can help softening the look on his face. (Not that he makes the effort to avoid it, anymore.)

"If you wish... I intend to keep you there."

It isn't long before he falls into step beside Lockon when they continue walking, no longer content to follow. If impulsiveness hasn't already driven him to seek them out, Setsuna F.-- Setsuna will be waiting directly outside their apartment.

"Lockon?"



Of course, by the time Tieria's heartbeat starts to speed up, Lockon has pulled his hand away. He doesn't notice. Instead he notices the frown and the confusion, and he laughs a little. "You should know by now! Humans aren't very rational at all."

And then Tieria's expression softens, as it does so often around him now, and Lockon knows he's gotten through. It's a gratifying feeling. It always has been, and now that he knows just how much he failed at in life, it's even more so. It's selfish, but he wants to cling to what successes he had. And Tieria was definitely one of them, even if Lockon doesn't always understand the details of that.

"Thanks, Tieria." He smiles again, as casually as if they were talking about running errands or helping out with some mission. "I'd appreciate that." And the truth is, he would. He still doesn't want to go back to life, doesn't want another chance, and he doubts he ever will. The emptiness that waited for him back home was more a comfort to him than anything--a reminder that no matter what future he builds for himself here, it's temporary, and he doesn't need to think too hard about confronting it and moving on. But at the same time, he realizes now that he likes the idea of his comrades, better and stronger and clearer-eyed than he ever was, carrying something of him into the future that they, unlike him, can grasp.

It's with those thoughts in mind that he starts making his way back to the apartment, Tieria at his side. But no matter how deeply he may be absorbed in them, when Tieria speaks, he looks up, curious. "What's up, Tieria?"



"Thank you."

It's inadequate, for the man who made such a difference to him, and there may not be a point in saying it; Lockon always *knows*. Again, he finds himself in the new position of not caring, irrational not-quite-almost-maybe human that he is. This city takes and gives according to a system as yet unpredictable, with the only real certainty that either one of them will be pulled back someday, stripped of what they've experienced here. If nothing else, he must say it because there may never be a chance to do so again. And even if the beginnings of a bitter smile tug at his lips, his voice leaves no doubt that he's every bit as sincere as he is about fulfilling their missions. In the case of Lockon, the comparison isn't very far from the truth.

Where they once would have annoyed him to distraction, those casual tones put Tieria at ease, unaware he needed it quite this much. He lets the evening's simple silence prevail all the way home.



Something about the way Tieria says that startles Lockon into silence. He knows Tieria is grateful, because he knows that sort of thing--but somehow hearing those two words, spoken so simply, drives it home. When he smiles again, it's a gentler expression, more tender than he usually allows Tieria to see. "Ah..." It occurs to him that he should say something back. "You're welcome."

As the two of them walk home, he finds himself hoping some part of Tieria remembers it for a long time to come.