his suspicions confirmed, jayden says nothing more about his past and gavin doesn't ask. the two of them share a comfortable silence and acceptance of the inevitable — both are private, for their own reasons, and jayden knows that if gavin ever wanted to find additional information, he would be able to. and for jayden's part, he knows that if there was anything important to know, gavin would tell him.

[break][break] he trusts him.

[break][break] surprise flickers in jayden's eyes as the other laments on the status of the neighborhood. his mind supplies the word bad, where not-good is supposed to be. to be honest, jayden had never thought about it that way — had never once considered his fate to be anything but what it was.

[break][break] "father had other properties, but..." he trails off. the results of the lawsuits were such that the majority of the ones in hoenn had been acquisitioned. not all, just most. "slateport felt familiar." the thinks of the days of his younger years here, where gavin and the others had taught him what it meant to be a rocket. what it meant to be alive.

[break][break] he leads the way up the staircase and into his apartment proper. unlike last time, he is sure to turn off the alarm system before gavin steps inside. another pause, as he shuffles off his shoes. "i'll do some research," he says eventually, as a pain shoots through his ribs and has him buckling side-ways against the wall. wincing, he looks up at gavin, as if none of that had actually happened — "do you... do you want tea?"

[break][break] dmitri's teachings, forever ingrained in him. gavin is not just a friend, but also a superior — this demanded that jayden play the part of a host, no matter the cost.

+ Cillian Quinn

the pain that cuts through him makes him lose his breath. but more than that, the feelings of regret, surprise — fear?

[break][break] had he done something wrong? had he pushed himself —

[break][break] "you should expect some pain over the next few days. we're only releasing you because — we're releasing you, but that doesn't mean you're healed yet."

[break][break] no. this was normal.

[break][break] the warm touch of his mentor's hand centers him, and violet eyes look up to meet gavin's own.

[break][break] he takes a gasping breath — forcing himself through the pain. gavin steps back, and jayden steadies himself, standing up slowly. breathe, jayden. it is just as much of a command as it is a request, and a reminder made just to tether him.

[break][break] of course, Cillian Quinn knows what he needs.

[break][break] "sorry," the boy says, blinking. his vision is blurry, just a bit. he walks forward, into the apartment, and finds himself slumping onto the couch at the far-end of the room. "i think... i need to sit." pain swells in his chest again, pulsing, and his hand rests against his chest. it's not bleeding, but it's warm.

[break][break] "i might.. need to change the bandages soon, too."

[break][break]

+ Cillian Quinn

"S- I, okay, " he says, biting his lip. It's a bad habit of his. Apologizing. Even with Gavin, it's something that's hard to remedy.

[break][break] So, instead, Jayden lets the silence to it for him instead. The cushion sinks as he sits on it, a finger clutching the side of the wood panel and the other at his waist. Gavin's sharp stare tears into him, but it is not unwelcome. Jayden knows Gavin is only doing it because he is concerned.

[break][break] It makes him feel cared for.

[break][break] Even moreso, when the other offers to help him with his bandages, and a flash of gratitude passes through Jayden before he points to a cabinet on the other side of the room. "My - first aid kit is there."

[break][break] Jayden - too - has a lifetime of stitching his own wounds, maybe even more than the average Rocket, but this is the one time he can't do so himself.

[break][break] And it absolutely kills him.

+ Cillian Quinn

there is something oddly comforting about the silence that passes between them. his gaze drops to the top of Cillian Quinn's head, staring at the whispy blond bangs.

[break][break] this could have been another time, years ago.

[break][break] he's reminded of himself as a teenager. he'd been less sure of himself then, more scared to even speak in the other's presence. this time — however — the silence is a choice, not a necessity.

[break][break] his decision to break it is also a choice too.

[break][break] softly, "so, what's been going on while i've been... out?"

+ Cillian Quinn