You did what you had to do to survive.

"I'd do it again."

It would be worse, now. He'd feel it all. Yet he knows for a certainty that he'd do it all over again if it meant survival.

But that's why you lead. So that those that follow don't have to do the shit that you did. A vision, one he'd shared with Chu-e. Blackwell had been the end of an era. Gavin doesn't want to think of who might step up to fill the void of his counterpart.

Not now, he urges himself. Later. Not now.

"Soup," he mumbles, then, "OK."

It's not so bad as a whole meal, and he can see the logic behind Temp's words.

"Thank you."

Tempest Quinn

A soft hum.

Temp doesn't doubt that Cillian Quinn wouldn't self mutilate himself to turn into a monster if it meant survival. Many might be scared of that, the uncertain could be, but Temp isn't. Gavin will fight to live. But, most importantly, he'll fight so others don't have to shell out their insides and become something else, too.

"Chicken soup." Repeated, in answer to a question his boyfriend didn't ask. "I bet we still have some of those little noodle stars from when Kade stayed over last time. I'll put a few of those in, too." They were tiny and maybe Gavin could stomach them.

The kitchen is quiet. Temp helps Gavin get a seat before he moves away, stealing another cheek kiss before he goes, to rummage around the cabinets. He doesn't accept the thanks. Not because he feels like it's earned or needed, but because this was just what he felt like he was supposed to do. Support his partner when he was upset. What kind of relationships had Gavin had before that that didn't happen?

Every question or comment must wade through the fog in Gavin's mind. He struggles just as much to form reply, and it's several seconds after Temp speaks that Gavin replies with soft, "We do."

His voice is rough, and he clears his throat.

He discards his pride and allows himself to lean on Temp until they're clear of the bedroom and he feels as if his legs can support him again. He doesn't pull away, even still, though his lover would feel the burden of his weight ease.

Clover greets them in the kitchen, the Alcremie making a sad sound in her throat when she takes in the mood of the room. A clover-shaped mint is pressed against the hand that Gavin rests on the kitchen island until he turns it over and accepts the treat into his palm. She watches him with wide, concerned eyes and he can't help but offer a strained smile as he pops it in his mouth. That seems to placate her, some, and she hops across to pester Temp where he's putting together the soup. To him, she offers a plump red strawberry.

Gavin folds his arms on the counter and rests his head. He's so tired.

Tempest Quinn

Temp feels bad leaving Cillian Quinn, even if he's just a few steps across the room. Clover does her best, Temp sees from where he steals glances back at the other as he works. It's simple. Pot, chicken stock, a little salt and pepper, then the stars. He's done by the time Clover is offering him his own treat. He takes it with a forced smile, munching into it and dropping the green stem into the trash.

The small pokemon is scooped into his arms and he walks back over to Gavin with her and sits. Just had to wait for the pot to boil.

Clover would be placed back on the counter and Temp leans to rest his head on the other's shoulder. Idly he rubs his back, any comfort he can try to provide.

There isn't much more he can say. Just... being with him right now was important.