"It won't."

Unspoken: We won't let it.

But it's more than that, isn't it?

"Walsh isn't Blackwell."

He'd shared his doubts about the Rocket Boss prior, but similarly trusts Mars with the things he does respect about their enigmatic leader. We can't be bloodthirsty without reason. Spoken brief before a threat upon Gavin's life should he betray the organization, but that was to be expected. Gavin's very role in Rocket involved snuffing out those who'd compromise the safety of his family.

"But I think it'll be war, soon." He still remembers the smell of smoke and death. "I still dream about it, sometimes."

Those dreams were more akin to nightmares.

notes

Gavin does understand, expressing it in a tight-lipped smile that's more akin to a grimace and quick to fade. Tempest Quinn was subjected to his partner's fitful sleep and fidgeting, but he'd always endured with compassion.

"It's no true peace," he says of the League, shaking his head. "There are those who'd attack regardless, meteor be damned, but they don't have the strength one-on-one."

Even the likes of Katherine Fairburne, powerful as she was, could not take on Team Rocket alone. The syndicate's strength is in their unity. It's why, in spite of his trepidation toward war, Gavin understands its necessity. They must stand together or fall apart.

"If Walsh wills war, then I will follow." He'd said those words to Emma, too. Heavy though the memories of war weighed upon the shoulders, there is a solemn acceptance. He was a soldier. They'd turned him into one. A beast with claws and teeth suited for bloodshed. "But I will not drag the innocent into our conflicts the way we did in Kanto."

I will not do what was done to you.

notes

Gavin shakes his head in mute agreement, lips pressed tight before he takes another swallow of scotch. In life, he has never known peace but for the few tranquil moments shared with those closest to him.

His gaze is shadowed by memories as he looks at Mars.

"I'm a different person than I was then." He'd been fighting for his own survival in Kanto. Now? He fights to protect himself, as ever, but also the likes of his husband, Tempest Quinn, his siblings, Rowan Wrynn and Lulu Flint, and friends like Martín del Mar who've grown close enough to know his truths. "I can't shut it out like I did in Kanto."

With these words, an admission: there had been a time where he had taken the lives of the innocent, where he might've been responsible for the grief suffered by Mars or Marcel. It had seemed worth it, at the time, not to allow himself to feel. But what he'd lost in sleep since letting down those walls, he's gained in love and loyalties.

"But to those who stand in our way?"

His smile is tight and devoid of warmth.

They'll wish they hadn't.

notes

Gavin nods, momentarily mute, remembering a collapsing research outpost in Pallet. He'd been given an opportunity to spare those inside: he knew that now, in ways he hadn't understood then. When granted an option, he'd seen it as a test, but only after he'd been given so many such tests that he'd lost count. It's them or it's you.

Theo had created a monster. Had he been surprised to see the rubble brought down upon the innocent?

It's Pallet he dreams of most.

"It was," he says, so soft as to almost be inaudible. His amber gaze lifts from his glass. "Dangerous."

notes

A loaded question.

Yes, he wants to say, immediate. He opens his mouth as if to respond in the affirmative, then furrows his brow and closes it again. Finding his glass empty, he refills it and drains half of it down before he can find his voice.

"No."

Soft, somewhat hoarse, as if he's loathe to admit it.

It should seem so obvious. He could go back, undo all the wrongs he's done, give back all the lives he's taken. But where would that leave him today? What would he be, without Rocket? Without Tempest Quinn?

He is an underboss, now. An Avatar. One of the most powerful men in the region. Would he give that up for peace of mind?

"No," he repeats. "Kanto made me who I am."

notes

Gavin knows a deep kinship with Martín del Mar in that moment, as they drink to the horrors of the past. He had expected judgement, perhaps disgust, but he finds instead a kindred spirit.

Regrets. Gavin offers a tight smile.

"As do I."

Ordinarily, he wouldn't go further then that. Whether it's the effects of alcohol or perhaps his connection with Mars as a friend, he takes a bracing breath and confesses,

"Lulu Flint. Or, well, Saoirse." The name she'd worn before everything was taken from her. His baby sister. "She'd have followed me anywhere. I didn't want her to follow me through this." He gestures, vague, seeming to indicate Kanto and Rocket and the rest. "But she wound up here anyway, didn't she?" He laughs, the sound humorless and strained. "So I suppose I might've changed the way I treated her, back then. When I thought I was doing her a favour, pushing her away."

He drains his glass, and pours another.

notes

"I don't know."

I've been too afraid to ask.

He remembers what Lulu Flint had said about happiness, heart sinking with the memory. I've never been happy. She didn't think she ever would be. How could she forgive him, after that? Heat gathers behind his eyes, but he blinks before tears can form.

His exhale is shaky, betraying emotion.

"She was the only one, growing up." There's a depth there, should Martín del Mar consider it: was. "I tried to protect her, but..." But I failed, didn't I?