[attr="class","beck"]it's difficult to relate to the unimaginable, to events only told in fiction, but he tries. he really does. all he can offer is a dip of his head, acknowledging the past.

finally, he returns his gaze. it holds on the riolu.

"it's used to mine."

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

Gavin laughs, a sound strangled by his stress.

"Oh, no, I mean like — post-avatarship." He remembers his conversation with Adrian Malcolm. "I'd imagine the bond with Lugia has changed it quite a bit. I don't even know if my old Lucario would recognize it anymore."

There's a note of melancholy in the realisation, but he brushes it off.

"Whatever calms the shadow Pokemon seems to... unsettle the Lucario. Imagine she doesn't care cause she's young. She's not read many auras yet, I imagine?"

He glances up from Riolu to look Beckett in the eye.

[attr="class","beck"]"only mine."

the riolu's barely been out of its pokeball. it's why it's so curious and unabashed in the way it takes in its surroundings. its innocence is desirable.

he sighs, gaze fleeting.

"consider it an apology."

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

Had Beckett ever apologised to him before?

No, Gavin thinks — this was a first. It's what keeps him from chuckling at the admin's evident discomfort.

"I appreciate the sentiment," he says carefully, and shifts his gaze to the ocean outside his window. It's calm in spite of the rain that peppers its surface. "But it'll take more than that to appease Lugia."

His amber gaze flicks back to Beckett. His expression pinches.

"We're sort of a package deal."

He lets the implication balance on its razor edge.

[attr="class","beck"]of course it'll take more. it's fucking lugia.

he takes a drag, appreciating the brief silence as he weighs his options. it doesn't take him long to know there's only one that'll keep him tethered to cillian.

but why is it so difficult?

"what does it want?"

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

"You said it yourself, Theo. It's powerful. Proud."

Perhaps it had once been a humble creature as the legends suggested, slumbering in the ocean depths to avoid misuse of its power. But the Lugia that Gavin knew was twisted by the corruption that ran through its veins.

"It wants respect."

Rocket had rescued it only to treat it as the very thing Theo had referred to it as.

"You've been kind to me." Gavin tilts his head. "That's what it said to me when I was chosen. I was kind, where others were not. It doesn't want to be anyone's tool."

[attr="class","beck"]this time, he stays his tongue, deciding against it. he takes another drag, silencing thoughts that should be left unsaid.

"i respect it."

for its power. for what it brings to the table. but that's it.

he shifts his gaze back, hoping it'd be enough.

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

Gavin, at least, recognizes Theo's effort in holding his tongue. He appreciates the lengths to which the other is willing to go to keep Gavin in his life.

"It's not me you'll need to convince, in the end."

But he steps forward to embrace Beckett, accepting the apology.

I don't want to fight.

Mercifully, the influence of his dark patron seems absent in the calm. He is alone with his thoughts, with Theo.

"Thank you."

[attr="class","beck"]it's not me you'll need to convince, in the end.

he knows this. dreads this. but it's a problem for him to deal with in the future. for now, he buries it.

he's tense when cillian embraces him, unsure of what to do. but he's sure of how he feels. he returns it, settling into the embrace.

"of course."

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

Not until he feels Beckett settle against his touch does Gavin allow himself to truly relax; for a week, he's been miserable, grieving the loss of two people where it had been hard enough to weather one.

He pulls back slowly, stays close, one hand lingering on Beckett's arm while he lifts the other to rest against the side of his neck.

His gaze lacks the hunger of before, a suggestion of vulnerability in his eyes.

Quiet, questioning. Where does this leave us?

[attr="class","beck"]his gaze lacks hunger, too, for he has not rested this past week. dark shades under his eyes give him away, though it's difficult to discern new shades from the usual.

he blinks, slow, then reaches up to plant a soft kiss on cillian's forehead.

"did you like the gift?"

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

His eyes close against the gentle brush of Theo's lips and the last of the tension leeches from his shoulders.

When he opens them, he smiles, soft.

"I do. I'm — not used to gifts," he admits. There's an ache in his chest as he thinks of Emma. "But I appreciate it, Theo. That you noticed. That you thought of this."

He leans his forehead against Theo's, drawing comfort from the touch.

[attr="class","beck"]he draws the same comfort, relishes in it. he blinks again, exhaustion threatening to overpower, and he's too tired to argue against the discomfort he feels when he asks:

"do you mind if i slept here?"

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