#branchedoff

It didn’t happen often- Pat couldn’t really get drunk, even when he tried. But God did he try once he’d gotten home after Michael and he... Well. 

He couldn’t help but blame himself. Having to go home, then to Mexico, for such a long time, leaving Michael and Griffon behind to deal with what they dealt with and coming back to try and be normal? When he’d not been there when they needed him? He wouldn’t be surprised if Griffon went the same way as Michael. 

But he was going to try his hardest to fix them before they broke too. It took him longer than usual to get up, groggy and unfocused, but by the time he was awake and alert he’d decided, he was going to make things better.

Stopping by a garden centre on his way to work, he picked up an azalea in a pot and managed to sneak it on to Griffon’s desk without her seeing along with a note.

Ryan hadn’t really been getting anywhere with the same GTA edit that’d been staring him in the face all morning anyway. His mind was somewhere else, probably trying to monitor the exact, or at least approximate, locations of the three particular coworkers he found himself suspicious of lately. His heart wasn’t in it either, though really his heart wasn’t in a whole lot of things at the moment... He tried not to linger on why too often.

Visiting the Grove with Griffon was a welcome change. He could actually feel productive if he was watching her back out there, and perhaps feel a little calmer in himself knowing at least one of the people that mattered to him was accounted for... His dreams hadn’t exactly been kind to him on that front, ever since his talk with the Reaper, after all.

Ryan had been quiet for a long time after he’d finished talking to the reaper. Words hadn’t seemed right or appropriate, so he’d simply sat at his desk, not particularly thinking or feeling, not yet. The anger had already passed, and the grief had yet to kick in, so instead he’d lingered in a strange sort of limbo. A numbness that wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

He knew it wouldn’t last though, and once it hit, chances were he’d be relatively useless for a few hours, in a way he couldn’t afford to be. Not when they were at war with the being responsible for it.

So instead he forced himself out of his chair, reminding himself to be useful while he still could dedicate any sort of focus to it. He’d heard about the injuries Griffon had sustained in the grove, the least he could do was attempt to heal them before the full impact of the reaper’s words hit home...

Michael felt on top of the world. Everything felt it was possible: Michael could go drink himself silly at a bar and Mogar wouldn’t be a worry, he could jump off the roof of Stage 5 and be completely fine. He felt so full of energy he could cartwheel down the street and still have enough stamina to sprint back.

In short, Michael felt high on life. He even changed up his wardrobe today: wore a pair of high tops he’d found in the shoe closet, a stretched plaid shirt was tied around his waist, and completing the look he wore a sweater depicting a kitten toying with a ball of yarn (Lindsay’s Christmas gift to him). His bright red curls attracted the eyes of many employees and Michael relished watching an intern trip over himself on the way in.

By the time lunch came around Michael was on a roll: he’d edited all of his things, filmed a new Rage Quit for tomorrow, and even did some of Gavin’s editing (how could he say no to those eyes?). He was getting hungry… Why not go mooch some lunch off of his newest Daddy?

Michael hopped up from his chair and announced he was going to grab some food, silencing Geoff’s invitation with a kiss and a “next time, promise.” The redhead practically skipped over to Burnie’s office but halted when he saw Griffon sitting silently in Pat’s office, the man in question probably out to lunch.

He hadn’t seen Griffon for a while… Plus Michael had never made them truly official. The hero detoured into his boyfriend’s office, walking in as quietly as he could until he was standing in front of Griffon. Her head was down and Michael was about to introduce himself when he noticed them.

Scars. Scars ran down her arms and they were… too similar to the ugly scar marring his backside. Ryan couldn’t heal the burn, not completely but over time it could fade. Rage boiled from Michael’s core, bubbling up until his skin was already a bright red and his eyes were a shiny gold.

“Who did this?” he whispered, reaching out to run a delicate finger along her arm. “Who did this to you Griffy? Tell me…”