The familiar shape of his roof against the Sootopolis horizon brings Gavin feelings of relief muted by the exhaustion that settles in his bones, a swirl of miasma cloaking him like a shroud as he walks along the beach.

He spots Chu-e Choi staring out over the water, hesitates before beginning his approach.

He's too close when he sees the crystal crackle across Chu-e's skin — the sight makes his skin crawl and stomach turn.

It retracts, forms again. Chu-e hasn't noticed him yet.

He clears his throat.

"Chu-e? Is it... you?"

He feels safe with the knowledge that Lugia lingers in the bay nearby; he can't see her spines, but feels the brush of her presence against his mind. Watchful, protective.

It takes too long for Chu-e to reply, pull himself out of whatever swirling pit he was traveling down in his own mind.

Chu-e glances back, confused, crystals crackling over his flesh. When he sees it's Cillian Quinn, it retracts faster, as if ashamed it exists.

'It's me." He thinks so, anyway.

Raising a hand, he rubs his head. It's starting to hurt, though if it's with exhaustion or something else he can't say.

"I'm glad you're alive."

Because 'okay' wouldn't really feel right for either of them.

It's jarring, to see the crystals slip beneath the skin as if they were never there.

Unsettled, Gavin keeps his distance from Chu-e Choi even when the other assures him of his presence within a vessel now shared with another. His memories remain tinged with the prickle of needles and the sharp drag of a knife below his ribs.

Yet there's a relief, muted, in the way he acknowledges his friend.

"I'm glad you are, too."

Gavin worries at his lip, swallows.

"It's getting worse, isn't it?"

"I can feel it in my head."

Is all he replies with, looks away, back to the horizon. Usually, the sight of the Sootopolis bay, such a strange sight, would be beautiful. In the aftermath of all that's happened, of the slow paranoia warping his mind, it seems bland and white and terrible.

"What does Lugia feel like?"

He tries to focus on the hunger, reach out, touch- but it's too far away. It's like heat from a vent. He can feel it, get closer, but he can't get to the source, something blocking him off when he tries.

Present.

I can feel it in my head.

The thought makes Gavin's skin crawl. How would that feel?

Chu-e Choi inquires the same of Lugia, and Gavin gives it thought. It's hard to put into words.

"It's like... comforting, I guess? Most of the time. She's... protective, fierce. Wants to keep me safe." It was nice. "When she's angry, I feel that, too. Like, really feel it."

So much that it fuelled his own emotions.

A pregnant pause before he asks,

"What does... it feel like?"

He runs his head again, mentally backs away from the glass.

"This doesn't feel like that. It doesn't feel like anything."

No emotions burned from it, no words, no feelings. Nothing to influence Chu-e like it might Cillian Quinn. All except for...

"Just hungry."

Except that was close but not....

"Have you ever been so hungry you feel empty? Like nothing could fill you up? Almost like that."

Hungry.

Though Gavin tries to school his expression, maintain the mask, it slips with the word. Memories of Chu-e Choi proclaiming I'm starving as the thing inside of him attempted to drain Gavin's lifeforce remain too fresh, too loud in his mind.

"N-No, I can't say I have."

His voice cracks with nerves.

"Does it still want to have a go at me?"

Could Chu-e even say for sure?

It wouldn't be easier to lie, wouldn't it?

But Chu-e stares at Cillian Quinn and he knows.

"Yeah."

Much like the vision of Zac Ramsay at the Zarude vine incident, if he loses that concentration, he can see it.

A split beef bone, cooked to perfect so the marrow drips in rich divots down. Only to be captured on fluffy crusts of bread, home made with garlic butter mixed with flecks of gold. Caviar sits on a silver platter. A rose champagne fizzes in a flute. Decadent. Bad for you.

He blinks and it's gone.

"It's not like... last time." When he couldn't control it.

Anxiety prickles hot and cold across his skin.

"Do you know what it wants? Is it because of the fragment?"

Though his memories of that night are fragmented through trauma, Gavin remembers that Chu-e Choi hadn't gone for him until he'd sighted the fragment in Gavin's fingers. Had abandoned his assault when Gavin had, at last, relinquished his grip on the prize.

It still bore the marks of his teeth.

"Do you think it would help if I...?"

He's afraid to finish the sentence, afraid that solidifying that thought into the open air might activate the murderous fury of the parasite inhabiting his friend's flesh.

"It's hungry." Which, meant that it should be obvious what it wanted. "And you're food."

At least Cillian Quinn could know it wasn't personal.

But, anything more and it wiuod leave Chu-e shaking his head.

"I just know it wants to eat. I don't know anything else. It's not like... talking to me. It's more like... you know when you're under fluorescents and they hum? Like, you get used to the hum and you can tune it out but it's still there. This is like background noise except in my brain."

This was a struggle.

"I don't know. Just... don't get close if you do. I don't want to hurt you again."

With that he turned around, faced away. Wrapped his arms tight around himself in a feeble attempt at self comfort.

"Yikes."

It's all he can think to say, at that. He's not sure how to feel.

"Is it — just me?"

But, no, Chu-e Choi had attacked Balder, as well.

"Or just certain people, maybe?"

He doesn't make the connection in his brain. He's too focused on the thought that if Necrozma could get its hooks in him again, there would be little stopping it from sucking him dry. Except—

He will NOT harm you.

"Lugia can reach me, here. She's nearby."

His voice is soft in an attempt to reassure, but he doesn't dare step close as he once would have. He wants to hold Chu-e close the way he had when the other had told him he was dying, comfort him, but he doesn't dare risk his life.

"It would try and eat her, too."

And how does he know that? It confuses him. He wants to mentally beat on the glass between him and whatever the fuck this thing is but he's scared and...

Chu-e takes a deep breath.

Tries to force his mind to stop reeling before he has a panic attack.

"I don't... I don't know. It's not just you but it's... I don't know." Later they could figure this out, out pieces together. Right now he's too addled.

Cillian Quinn

Gavin's own protective urges toward the shadowed legend are overwhelmed by the fury that cuts across his thoughts. Primal, proud, the overwhelming sense that the Diving Pokemon would not be bested by that thing, not again—

Gavin winces, a headache pulsing behind his eyes.

"I think she'd put up a better fight than I did."

There's a note of bitterness for his own weakness. He'd tried to fight but even as an avatar, his powers were based around his Pokemon. Without them, he felt no stronger than he'd been before.

"Who else?" Gavin prods, guesses, "Balder?"