[ It's not like that. But it is, in a way. This, all of this, is new to her too: the cohabitation, the alliances, the personalities. The way they're all circling each other. She's always kept people at arms' length, everyone, until suddenly he had carved a hole into her life and she doesn't know how not to have him there in that space.
But that doesn't mean she wants to add to the burden he carries, either.
Mel flexes her fingers, the gold of her tattoos still clear and present. The gold in the cracks are almost reflections of the same, as if someone had carved the color straight through to her muscles, to her bones. She only stills herself so he can work, though her free hand is running up and down his arm, over the places where stone becomes flesh and back again. ]
No. I'd bought them for someone else. [ Who stubbornly didn't want to use them. ] So they're here just in case.
[ Her thumb brushes carefully over the crystal etches. ]
[ He's a little relieved it's not so bad that she's had to use them yet, though he gives her a curious look when she mentions it's for someone else. He'll quietly wonder who it is, not certain he really wants to pry - whoever it is, he hopes they've found a way to manage too. ]
There's not a lot of pain. [ he says distractedly as he sets to work, carefully starting to wrap around her wrist, his gaze fixed there.
Maybe he could try to leave the question there, but he's aware enough to know that if he wants her to be open about these things, he needs to be as well. ]
I have less feeling there... [ pointed out as her free hand strokes across his crystallized flesh. Quietly: ] ... but it comes back more, when you're doing that.
[ Touching him. He's trying not to get distracted, just close his eyes and enjoy the sensation as it returns. Instead, he continues to manipulate her arm as he winds the bandage, placing gauze where he finds new places that the skin has starting cracking and bleeding. ]
When did this start? [ He touches next to those golden cracks. ]
[ Her gaze briefly returns to his face, then to the crystal she's been touching. The frown that works its way onto her lips is one she'd try to hide under most other circumstances. But she wants to try with him, wants to be honest. She wants to show him that she trusts him and is worthy of his trust in turn, and she can't do that if she keeps hiding how she feels beyond walls and walls of gold.
Consciously, she runs her hand over his forearm, careful not to interfere with his work. If there's a way to bring anything back through touch alone... ]
So it's been even harder, when we haven't been together like this.
[ For both of them. Mel doesn't linger on it - in part to move away from the guilt, in part to focus on Jayce, both his changes and his questions - and she moves her arm to let him work. There's a barely repressed shiver there, not of pain but sensitivity. ]
A few weeks ago. It was minor to begin with, like... [ Ugh, it's gonna be gross. ] Like skin flaking. And then the cracking started early last week. The gold... I didn't notice it until a few days ago.
[ He quickly shoots her an apologetic look - not wanting to keep making her feel guilty for taking time alone, and trying to say so by leaning over to press his lips at the space between her shoulder and neck for a long moment before continuing.
His hand pulls back from the golden cracks on her skin, placing more gauze down. ]
This isn't too tight? [ Then, frowning again: ] It's almost like it's trying to integrate your tattoos in some way...
[ It's becoming increasingly apparent that some Natural Souls and the corruption are influenced in some way by aspects of their lives, their experiences - with Viktor's transformation almost mirroring what the hexcore did to his body, Jayce's body lighting up like a hexgem, and now what's happening to Mel. ]
[ When their eyes briefly meet, Mel just shakes her head, and she reaches out with an arm to wrap loosely around his shoulders. He has nothing to feel sorry for. And languishing on that point seems...moot now. Her forehead briefly finds his chest before she lets him go, but her knees are touching him now, her hand returns to his arm; these small points of contact that keep her close while he's working.
And to his question, he gets another shake of the head. ]
They're fine, don't worry. [ It helps to stave off the odd feeling of coming apart. ] I think you're right, though, about the integration.
[ She has no other points of comparison beyond him and Viktor, because she knows them both just well enough to make the connections across their changes. While the three of them could be the exception rather than the rule, she can't believe that. ]
I want to believe it means the soul is trying to be a part of us without subsuming us, but I don't know what to trust or believe anymore. It all feels...tangled.
[ It doesn't take all that long for him to finish wrapping them up to her elbow, bringing the back of her knuckles to his lips again, closing his eyes before he starts on the other arm. ]
I know. It feels the same to me...
[ Tangled. It's unsettling to think of the Natural Soul as something else... alive, within them. Trapped, changing them. ]
... I keep thinking - there has to somehow be a way to stop the corruption without removing the Augmenter. Halt the side effects. Reverse them. I can't not believe that. But then -
[ He gets scared that this is another problem he can't solve. That for all that he's been able to make the impossible happen, there's also the lingering doubt that's new to him. He's supposed to be in his element in the lab - with Viktor, with Brickston and Palamedes and Gale helping - but how long do they have?
He wants to apologize again - for not having the answers, for having this doubt in the first place. ]
[ This conversation feels similar to one she's had before with Hubert, when she'd said that there was no other acceptable outcome other than to find a way back home. But that was...the long-term plan, and one she can't completely reconcile with what is happening to them. To the changes that occur whether she spreads her wings or not. It's creeping in a little at a time, the transformation fighting her for every inch of her skin.
(In her darker moments, she worries when her mind will be taken from her. Or when her soul might be devoured.)
But she hears something in Jayce's tone through it all, that edge at the end. She can only imagine what he was going to say, but she thinks she knows him well enough to guess at some of it. She reaches up with her newly-bandaged arm to touch his face. Her thumb brushes over the curve of his cheekbone. ]
This is not your burden to carry alone. You know that, right?
[ That he does not need to shoulder the weight of the Augmented, even the world and its troubles, on his own. No one has the answers. They all have reason to doubt. This isn't a problem like the hexgates, where if they'd failed, there were still other measures to take. This involves so much more. What if a solution isn't found, or is found too late?
She'd seen his reaction on the bridge. The expression on his face among the bodies of the councilors, of Viktor. Viktor's ongoing illness. How much more can he take on before the foundation cracks? Mel's fingers - on the hand he's working on - curl awkwardly to touch his wrist. ]
We will weather this, too. All of us. But this need not be your sole responsibility to bear.
[ He almost tells her right then, about the moments where he's sunk into himself - when the pain and stress and fear became overwhelming and he just let himself feel nothing. It hasn't again been so bad as when he last argued with Viktor in the Woods, close to the Katalyth.
But there are times during their research, when he's chopping parts off of mutated animal carcasses or accepting samples of human remains, that he's slipped back into that cold, feelingless place, just to cope with the work. ]
I know.
[ His brow pinches, and he looks at her with such open fondness, studying her features like it's the first time again. ]
I do. I just might need the reminder every so often.
[ With a pang of guilt he leans into her touch again, with the soft scrape of her nails against his cheek.
He tells himself the next time he feels like slipping into that state, he'll remember this guilt, and he won't. ]
you don't know how much I wanted to make an Atlas reference to Jayce in these tags. alas.
[ There's an edge of a smile at the corner of her mouth, and she purposely pulls her thumb back just enough so she doesn't harm him with her nails. His cheek is warm in her palm, soft in contrast to the hardened crystal, and Mel leans in to briefly kiss him. Her forehead finds his after, just a gentle nudge there. ]
I'll remind you as often as you need. And then more, if you want.
[ She's not a micromanager. It's how she operated as their benefactor: be present for explanations, help to disseminate the information, and check in here and there. But she's never needed, nor wanted, to loom over their work. She isn't going to start now. ...With the exception of their wellbeing. That's not their work, after all.
Her head finds his shoulder. ]
You aren't alone any longer, you and Viktor. You have people who want to help you and who are just as committed to doing what they can. And you have me.
[ He leans into the kiss as well, pausing his work again to let all these little touches between them linger for a moment longer, tracing along the line of her nose with his own - across her cheek, too - able to feel the softness of her skin this way where his hands have been failing him. He nods, slowly, forehead still pressed against her temple, and she'll feel his breath tickle her cheek as he exhales just before she leans her head on his shoulder. ]
You're right. I know. You have me, too.
[ None of them need to be alone. He'll remind her as often as she needs, too.
He kisses the top of her head once more, then sets back to work on her other arm, gently placing down the gauze. Jayce holds his breath for a second, then offers: ]
The repair shop is closed tomorrow. We should go somewhere - in the city, I mean. [ Not the cabin, or wandering around the Woods for Katalyth. Something... normal.
[ Jayce will feel her smile before he hears the telltale hum of hers, and she almost nuzzles back against him with her nose before she realizes what she's doing. It feels...sweet. It feels right, even. It's soft in a way she's not used to letting herself feel or indulge in, small moments that would undeniably call vulnerable. And yet, here she is with him, and not regretting a moment of it.
Mel exhales against his shoulder and briefly closes her eyes. ]
I know.
[ That he has her. Her one hand closes around his arm again, fingers stroking over the crystallized flesh there as if she might be able to reclaim it for him again. Mel looks up at him when he speaks again, and there's a long pass of silence as she considers. She almost laughs.
Is he asking her out on a date? ]
...I'd like that.
[ Something normal and relaxing. As if it would be if they were just a couple wandering around. While there's still time. He doesn't say it; neither does she. Mel still feels the reverberations of the implication, though, and she kisses his shoulder. ]
Let's do that. I'd like you to see the water front when the sun goes down. It's beautiful over there, despite the conditions of the buildings.
[ This time, when he fingers stroke along his arm, there's a visible reaction - thin strands of blue light follow in the wake of her touch, pulsing in time with the glow at his chest. A moment later he's smiling when she agrees. He might be embarrassed to admit he hasn't been on a real date in about a decade. And he never followed the rumors or gossip about her over the years, though he wonders if it hasn't been some time for her, too. ]
I've only seen it during the day.
[ It hadn't been particularly memorable, except for the decrepit state of the boats. But if she thinks it's beautiful, it must be. he's seen enough of her paintings to know.
The smile and warmth carries into his voice while he sets back to finishing the wrapping. ]
We could have a picnic on the dock. [ And now he's teasing: ] Has Mel Medarda ever enjoyed the simple pleasure of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?
[ It's quiet down by the waterfront, where people don't frequent as much anymore with the dying trade. Plus those who do work there are gone before nightfall, back to their families and homes, and it has a decent view of the dying sun - or the moonlight - on the water. It'd been beautiful to see, if melancholy in its own way, one of the nights she couldn't sleep.
Her gaze drifts down, watching that bit of light along the crystal of his arm. Her brow furrows, about to ask, though he's beaten her to the punch with a question of his own. She wrinkles her nose - partially for show - and then quietly laughs. ]
There's a first time for everything.
[ Not just because beggars can't be choosers (and their wallets will cry otherwise), but because it doesn't really matter, does it, when it's more about spending time with Jayce? Not all meals can be 5-star bougie gourmet decadence. ]
It's also likely to be much, much more tolerable than whatever gelatin-based foods they keep serving at these welcome functions when we get new people.
[ He pulls an exaggerated face of disgust at the mention of the... creative use of gelatin Patho-Gen provides, but he's quick to smiling again, finishing up the last of the wrapping and holding her hand up, fingers gently curled around her first digits. ]
How does it feel?
[ Still not too tight? He remembers after the blizzard, when his mother had needed surgery on her hand, the loss of two of her fingers. Jayce had never helped her with the wrappings, it hadn't been until he was a little older that he'd designed the first iteration of her prosthetics.
He has always wanted to do everything for the people he cares about. He's grateful that she lets him, now. ]
[ Tight enough to prevent the feeling of crumpling apart, loose enough that it feels like a sleeve rather than a second-skin. And that's perfectly fine with her - and better than her own efforts, frankly. Mel flexes her hand, flexes her arm a bit, checking to see the fit. It's good. She flashes him a brief smile, and leans over to kiss his cheek. ]
You're very good at this.
[ The wrapping, she means. The diligence. Jayce's attention to detail. Her fingers fall once more to his arm, looking again for the correlation of touch to the light within him, if it's there at all. Her other hand, though, finds his chest - hovering just to one side of where that light was. ]
[ When she praises him like that his smile is warm, some of the worry lines that have been marking his face lately seem to smooth out. He follows the trail of her hand with his gaze - the trails of light reappear, following the line she traces. Beneath her other hand, his chest glows the same.
Jayce closes his eyes, tilting his head to the side - his expression a little sheepish as he works to an explanation: ]
I think so. [ It's not something he can keep track of as easily, when he doesn't always notice it's happening - ] Another kind of... emotional response, I guess.
[ His shift has almost exclusively activated by negative emotions: fear, grief. He opens his eyes, lifting his gaze without lifting his chin - that same sheepish expression stuck on his face. ]
I usually can't feel as much there, the places I've... changed - [ his expression softens again: ] - but I can feel you.
[ The first time she'd seen that light had been in the woods, when he'd carried her from the Katalyth. And every time since then, she realizes, it's been with her - and with Viktor. And it just finally makes sense to her, enough that as her gaze alights on Jayce's, as she takes in the fondness of his gaze...that she can't believe she'd overlooked such an obvious reason.
Her thumb brushes over that light now, over his sternum, and she can't help her smile or the quiet laugh that accompanies it. ]
I'm glad.
[ And I hope that doesn't change.
Mel leans forward to kiss him here, first beside his mouth in the corner, and then another on his lips - the gesture fleeting, whisper-soft, because what she really wants is to coax him back into her arms at last, so she can hold him this time, and make up for the hours and days she's missed having herself wrapped around his warmth.
And even if she can't reclaim those crystalized parts, can't bring back the pieces of flesh that were once his, at least she can try to help him stay connected to who he is and to his heart. ]
[ For the first time since she left, he sleeps well.
They make their way to the Waterfront the next evening. If the locals stare at them on the way, he doesn't notice. There's sandwiches, along with some abominably cheap wine. They sit and watch the water lap against the old wooden docks and derelict boats.
It's beautiful, just like she promised.
Even more beautiful is the way the fading light plays against her skin as they watch the sun slip beneath the horizon.
Some days later, he leaves her a gift - a little copper pin for her traveling pack, the metal carefully shaped into the shape of a sun burst, burnished bright. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
But that doesn't mean she wants to add to the burden he carries, either.
Mel flexes her fingers, the gold of her tattoos still clear and present. The gold in the cracks are almost reflections of the same, as if someone had carved the color straight through to her muscles, to her bones. She only stills herself so he can work, though her free hand is running up and down his arm, over the places where stone becomes flesh and back again. ]
No. I'd bought them for someone else. [ Who stubbornly didn't want to use them. ] So they're here just in case.
[ Her thumb brushes carefully over the crystal etches. ]
...How much is it hurting?
no subject
There's not a lot of pain. [ he says distractedly as he sets to work, carefully starting to wrap around her wrist, his gaze fixed there.
Maybe he could try to leave the question there, but he's aware enough to know that if he wants her to be open about these things, he needs to be as well. ]
I have less feeling there... [ pointed out as her free hand strokes across his crystallized flesh. Quietly: ] ... but it comes back more, when you're doing that.
[ Touching him. He's trying not to get distracted, just close his eyes and enjoy the sensation as it returns. Instead, he continues to manipulate her arm as he winds the bandage, placing gauze where he finds new places that the skin has starting cracking and bleeding. ]
When did this start? [ He touches next to those golden cracks. ]
no subject
Consciously, she runs her hand over his forearm, careful not to interfere with his work. If there's a way to bring anything back through touch alone... ]
So it's been even harder, when we haven't been together like this.
[ For both of them. Mel doesn't linger on it - in part to move away from the guilt, in part to focus on Jayce, both his changes and his questions - and she moves her arm to let him work. There's a barely repressed shiver there, not of pain but sensitivity. ]
A few weeks ago. It was minor to begin with, like... [ Ugh, it's gonna be gross. ] Like skin flaking. And then the cracking started early last week. The gold... I didn't notice it until a few days ago.
no subject
His hand pulls back from the golden cracks on her skin, placing more gauze down. ]
This isn't too tight? [ Then, frowning again: ] It's almost like it's trying to integrate your tattoos in some way...
[ It's becoming increasingly apparent that some Natural Souls and the corruption are influenced in some way by aspects of their lives, their experiences - with Viktor's transformation almost mirroring what the hexcore did to his body, Jayce's body lighting up like a hexgem, and now what's happening to Mel. ]
no subject
And to his question, he gets another shake of the head. ]
They're fine, don't worry. [ It helps to stave off the odd feeling of coming apart. ] I think you're right, though, about the integration.
[ She has no other points of comparison beyond him and Viktor, because she knows them both just well enough to make the connections across their changes. While the three of them could be the exception rather than the rule, she can't believe that. ]
I want to believe it means the soul is trying to be a part of us without subsuming us, but I don't know what to trust or believe anymore. It all feels...tangled.
no subject
I know. It feels the same to me...
[ Tangled. It's unsettling to think of the Natural Soul as something else... alive, within them. Trapped, changing them. ]
... I keep thinking - there has to somehow be a way to stop the corruption without removing the Augmenter. Halt the side effects. Reverse them. I can't not believe that. But then -
[ He gets scared that this is another problem he can't solve. That for all that he's been able to make the impossible happen, there's also the lingering doubt that's new to him. He's supposed to be in his element in the lab - with Viktor, with Brickston and Palamedes and Gale helping - but how long do they have?
He wants to apologize again - for not having the answers, for having this doubt in the first place. ]
no subject
(In her darker moments, she worries when her mind will be taken from her. Or when her soul might be devoured.)
But she hears something in Jayce's tone through it all, that edge at the end. She can only imagine what he was going to say, but she thinks she knows him well enough to guess at some of it. She reaches up with her newly-bandaged arm to touch his face. Her thumb brushes over the curve of his cheekbone. ]
This is not your burden to carry alone. You know that, right?
[ That he does not need to shoulder the weight of the Augmented, even the world and its troubles, on his own. No one has the answers. They all have reason to doubt. This isn't a problem like the hexgates, where if they'd failed, there were still other measures to take. This involves so much more. What if a solution isn't found, or is found too late?
She'd seen his reaction on the bridge. The expression on his face among the bodies of the councilors, of Viktor. Viktor's ongoing illness. How much more can he take on before the foundation cracks? Mel's fingers - on the hand he's working on - curl awkwardly to touch his wrist. ]
We will weather this, too. All of us. But this need not be your sole responsibility to bear.
no subject
But there are times during their research, when he's chopping parts off of mutated animal carcasses or accepting samples of human remains, that he's slipped back into that cold, feelingless place, just to cope with the work. ]
I know.
[ His brow pinches, and he looks at her with such open fondness, studying her features like it's the first time again. ]
I do. I just might need the reminder every so often.
[ With a pang of guilt he leans into her touch again, with the soft scrape of her nails against his cheek.
He tells himself the next time he feels like slipping into that state, he'll remember this guilt, and he won't. ]
you don't know how much I wanted to make an Atlas reference to Jayce in these tags. alas.
I'll remind you as often as you need. And then more, if you want.
[ She's not a micromanager. It's how she operated as their benefactor: be present for explanations, help to disseminate the information, and check in here and there. But she's never needed, nor wanted, to loom over their work. She isn't going to start now. ...With the exception of their wellbeing. That's not their work, after all.
Her head finds his shoulder. ]
You aren't alone any longer, you and Viktor. You have people who want to help you and who are just as committed to doing what they can. And you have me.
heheh
You're right. I know. You have me, too.
[ None of them need to be alone. He'll remind her as often as she needs, too.
He kisses the top of her head once more, then sets back to work on her other arm, gently placing down the gauze. Jayce holds his breath for a second, then offers: ]
The repair shop is closed tomorrow. We should go somewhere - in the city, I mean. [ Not the cabin, or wandering around the Woods for Katalyth. Something... normal.
(while they still can) ]
no subject
Mel exhales against his shoulder and briefly closes her eyes. ]
I know.
[ That he has her. Her one hand closes around his arm again, fingers stroking over the crystallized flesh there as if she might be able to reclaim it for him again. Mel looks up at him when he speaks again, and there's a long pass of silence as she considers. She almost laughs.
Is he asking her out on a date? ]
...I'd like that.
[ Something normal and relaxing. As if it would be if they were just a couple wandering around. While there's still time. He doesn't say it; neither does she. Mel still feels the reverberations of the implication, though, and she kisses his shoulder. ]
Let's do that. I'd like you to see the water front when the sun goes down. It's beautiful over there, despite the conditions of the buildings.
no subject
I've only seen it during the day.
[ It hadn't been particularly memorable, except for the decrepit state of the boats. But if she thinks it's beautiful, it must be. he's seen enough of her paintings to know.
The smile and warmth carries into his voice while he sets back to finishing the wrapping. ]
We could have a picnic on the dock. [ And now he's teasing: ] Has Mel Medarda ever enjoyed the simple pleasure of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?
no subject
[ It's quiet down by the waterfront, where people don't frequent as much anymore with the dying trade. Plus those who do work there are gone before nightfall, back to their families and homes, and it has a decent view of the dying sun - or the moonlight - on the water. It'd been beautiful to see, if melancholy in its own way, one of the nights she couldn't sleep.
Her gaze drifts down, watching that bit of light along the crystal of his arm. Her brow furrows, about to ask, though he's beaten her to the punch with a question of his own. She wrinkles her nose - partially for show - and then quietly laughs. ]
There's a first time for everything.
[ Not just because beggars can't be choosers (and their wallets will cry otherwise), but because it doesn't really matter, does it, when it's more about spending time with Jayce? Not all meals can be 5-star bougie gourmet decadence. ]
It's also likely to be much, much more tolerable than whatever gelatin-based foods they keep serving at these welcome functions when we get new people.
[ Those she draws the line at. ]
no subject
[ He pulls an exaggerated face of disgust at the mention of the... creative use of gelatin Patho-Gen provides, but he's quick to smiling again, finishing up the last of the wrapping and holding her hand up, fingers gently curled around her first digits. ]
How does it feel?
[ Still not too tight? He remembers after the blizzard, when his mother had needed surgery on her hand, the loss of two of her fingers. Jayce had never helped her with the wrappings, it hadn't been until he was a little older that he'd designed the first iteration of her prosthetics.
He has always wanted to do everything for the people he cares about. He's grateful that she lets him, now. ]
no subject
[ Tight enough to prevent the feeling of crumpling apart, loose enough that it feels like a sleeve rather than a second-skin. And that's perfectly fine with her - and better than her own efforts, frankly. Mel flexes her hand, flexes her arm a bit, checking to see the fit. It's good. She flashes him a brief smile, and leans over to kiss his cheek. ]
You're very good at this.
[ The wrapping, she means. The diligence. Jayce's attention to detail. Her fingers fall once more to his arm, looking again for the correlation of touch to the light within him, if it's there at all. Her other hand, though, finds his chest - hovering just to one side of where that light was. ]
Is this happening more? This glow?
no subject
Jayce closes his eyes, tilting his head to the side - his expression a little sheepish as he works to an explanation: ]
I think so. [ It's not something he can keep track of as easily, when he doesn't always notice it's happening - ] Another kind of... emotional response, I guess.
[ His shift has almost exclusively activated by negative emotions: fear, grief. He opens his eyes, lifting his gaze without lifting his chin - that same sheepish expression stuck on his face. ]
I usually can't feel as much there, the places I've... changed - [ his expression softens again: ] - but I can feel you.
no subject
Her thumb brushes over that light now, over his sternum, and she can't help her smile or the quiet laugh that accompanies it. ]
I'm glad.
[ And I hope that doesn't change.
Mel leans forward to kiss him here, first beside his mouth in the corner, and then another on his lips - the gesture fleeting, whisper-soft, because what she really wants is to coax him back into her arms at last, so she can hold him this time, and make up for the hours and days she's missed having herself wrapped around his warmth.
And even if she can't reclaim those crystalized parts, can't bring back the pieces of flesh that were once his, at least she can try to help him stay connected to who he is and to his heart. ]
๐
They make their way to the Waterfront the next evening. If the locals stare at them on the way, he doesn't notice. There's sandwiches, along with some abominably cheap wine. They sit and watch the water lap against the old wooden docks and derelict boats.
It's beautiful, just like she promised.
Even more beautiful is the way the fading light plays against her skin as they watch the sun slip beneath the horizon.
Some days later, he leaves her a gift - a little copper pin for her traveling pack, the metal carefully shaped into the shape of a sun burst, burnished bright. ]