Here, in the labs, Gavin's guard is down. Here, he feels almost safe.

Here, when Theo's voice cuts through the thin barrier of his thoughts, Gavin flinches on instinct and drops the delicate glass vial he'd been holding.

A flash of anger surges like lightning in his gaze, and it lifts as if to challenge the admin's presence. He draws in a sharp breath as his thoughts catch up, and the anger is gone as quick as it had appeared. Hands flutter anxiously to deal with the broken glass, skin prickling with something like embarrassment as he feels the prying eyes of his colleagues.

"Just — um, running tests, sir."

Knowledge of a recent failure lingers like an anvil above his head, waiting to drop.

"Did you need something?"

[attr="class","beck"]glass shatters, scattering, and the flash of anger does not go unnoticed. he pulls a foot back, shakes off shards of glass, then crunches them against the ground.

"no need to be so jumpy, merlino, i just wanted to know more about your work."

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

He must kneel down to sweep the scattered glass; he does so with a crawling unease, ever-conscious of the admin standing over him. It's as if he can't breathe until he's drawn back to his full height, depositing glass into a bin.

'No need to be so jumpy,' but isn't there?

Briefly, Gavin knows guilt. Had Theo taken the punishment, as he'd done before?

"I didn't think you cared much for science."

He reaches for another vial slowly, as if afraid the glass might bite him.

[attr="class","beck"]"not really."

theo reaches his hand past merlino's, picks up the vial, and extends it over with more gentleness than he's known for.

"but i care about your work."

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

Gavin draws his hand back on instinct, as though contact with Theo's might burn him. There's confusion reflected clear in his eyes as the admin holds out the vial in gentle offering, rather than the reprimand he'd expected.

He takes it, careful.

"You do?" And gods, but for a moment he sounds hopeful. His lip quirks, a smile not allowed to form. "Well, ah, what — what did you want to know about?"

Neat handwriting marks a label, which he then applies to the vial.

[attr="class","beck"]"i do."

he gives an involuntary glance around merlino's workstation, doing his best to take in its details and its oddities. nothing particularly stands out, likely because he knows little, but he feigns interest all the same.

"tell me about your current project."

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

It shouldn't make him feel the way it does, the warmth that blossoms in his chest.

"Well, right now we're conducting a gene-splicing experiment with the goal of accelerating evolution in species known for their slow growth by combining their DNA with that of other species."

He won't allow himself to smile, but he's unable to hide the shift in his tone as he focuses on something he truly, genuinely enjoys.

"We started with bug Pokémon, but it seems like the genetic makeup of an insectoid species doesn't mesh with a more mammalian or draconid counterpart. So we've been scaling it down to a more manageable size: think augmenting a Teddiursa with the DNA of a Ratatta. They're able to interbreed, to hatch eggs, so they're compatible enough on a surface level..."

He gestures to his notes, which would doubtless look like scientific jargon.

[attr="class","beck"]he reaches for merlino's notes, picks them up, and actually attempts to read them. it's mostly scientific jargon, but he's able to see the undeniable passion behind scribbles of ink. it's almost warming.

"interesting."

the notes are placed back on the counter, discarded.

"this means a lot to you, doesn't it, merlino?"

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

As Theo glances over his notes, painstakingly written and organized, Gavin continues to set out and label the various vials he'll need for the day's work. Should the admin glance at his hands, he'd note them to be steady.

A microscope is adjusted, next, various slides set up alongside it.

"It's my passion," he admits, too readily. "It's what I was meant to do."

Bitterness rises as the tide, reminding him of the life he might've had among Galar's finest minds, but he allows it to ebb. Rocket were not kind to him, but they had given him a place to continue what he loved the most.

Now, he offers without prompting, "We've been getting results, too. One of the subjects that survived the project evolved at what we believe to be an accelerated rate when exposed to stressful stimuli."

[attr="class","beck"]his mind drifts back to saffron, to a dimly-lit room, and he remembers the passion merlino exuded back then, too. to sacrifice one's life, one's sanity, and one's soul — despite their similarities, they could not be more different.

it's then that theo realizes he hadn't really been listening. he exhales, turning away.

"and how would you feel if this was taken away from you?"

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

Like a switch being flipped in that dingy Saffron office, light flickers before it dims. It's several seconds before the words process, before their meaning sinks in with all the subtlety of a knife rammed into his thigh.

"I — no."

There's raw pain in his voice, reduced to just above a whisper, for Theo has managed to catch him completely off-guard. Lured in by the promise of interest, of praise, he'd not noticed the trap until its jaws were around his neck.

He's a smart man, understands too quick in a place as sacred to him as this.

He hadn't been looking at Theo as he busied himself with his work, lulled into a false sense of security, but he looks at him now. His eyes are wide, hurt.

"The mission — I-I didn't mean for it to fail. Please."

He shrinks back against a row of cages along the wall, feels as cornered as the rats within them.

[attr="class","beck"]"you know what happens when you fail."

he supposes he should feel guilt, remorse, pity, but he doesn't. he feels little, if nothing at all, because this is how it should be. this is the only way he survives.

"hand your work over to raziel. make sure he's caught up to speed."

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

Orders are orders.

But this heralds a different kind of death — the death of the spirit. This will not kill him, but it will bend him until he breaks. The noise that escapes him is pitiful, a plea that chokes off in his throat.

"He's a child, sir." It's not a no, he doesn't dare, but neither does he reach for his notes. "He won't — this is all I have, Beckett."

And Theo knows, because Gavin has told him.