#kamleo

2) The androids in the villa (prototype PL400 Peter, prototype ST200 Cassandra, first commercial model ST200 Candace, and of course RT600 Chloe) are his family and the sole reason Elijah Kamski has lived 36 rotations around the sun. They keep him on some semblance of a routine that keeps him alive and he’s very aware he’d be dead without them.

Accepting Leo into the fold isn’t difficult, but there’s some hesitation at the start because he’s someone new to fit into their life. They recognise now that when Eli has dark clouds in his head sometimes it’s Leo he needs, and not them. This revelation is an incredibly important one into accepting Leo into the Kamski household.

3) For his 30th birthday, Eli builds Leo a camera from scratch. It has insane experimental tech in it that uses similar tech in android eyes so there’s less need for external processing through graphic programs. Leo cries. A lot. 

Carl lets Chloe play in his couture collection and Leo shoots her using his new camera and the incredible photos land him a job for Vogue Magazine which is a nice way of closing the circle, given his mother is a French-American model. 

Photography helped Leo drag himself out of his drug dependency, and he is the only trusted press photographer for Jericho. Whenever any event or promo is needed, Markus will ask his brother to shoot for them. Eli is very proud of him. Incredibly proud of him.

4) Leo has a wrecked immune system due to his past drug abuse. He gets pnumonia very easily in winter and it takes him twice as long to recover. Eli will always take him home to the villa for the rest of his recovery once he’s discharged from hospital. 

Having someone to care for puts a lot of things into perspective for Eli, and helps him also develop good habits for his own self care.

5) Eli doesn’t like using his Coolsona to be seen with Leo. He doesn’t like fancy dinners, he doesn’t want to attend fancy events, but he also understands Leo is an up and coming talent in the photography industry so he makes exceptions. Leo knows this takes a lot of energy, especially mental energy given Eli’s anxiety, so it sometimes floors him how much Eli is willing to be uncomfortable for his sake. 

They’ll always always go to an old family owned diner on the outskirts of the city where they make the best greasy burgers and fries and amazing milkshakes and Leo watches Eli just transform back into his nerdy adorkable self and they tangle their feet beneath the table, squeezed into their favourite corner booth. The both of them feel the most alive on these nights. 

“Do you have a cigarette?” Leo tried to look up, but the cloudy sky cut his eyes with its light, just as Elijah's silent presence cut his soul. Manfred immediately looked down.

“It seems like smoking is forbidden here,” said Kamski.

Leo just snorted. Prohibitions have never stopped anyone before. Drugs were also banned, but they were still brought here. Ex-addicts are only dead addicts, what can you say?

“You're Elijah Kamski, who's going to forbid you anything?”

Leo made another attempt to look up, but failed again.

Elijah sighed, frowning looked around and put his hand in his coat pocket. A moment later, a pack of cigarettes was tossed carelessly into Leo's lap, followed by a lighter.

“Isn't that too cheeky?” Kamski asked calmly, but there was a note of reproach in his voice.

Leo froze, the cigarette halfway to his lips.

“Here, you know, it's like a children's camp,” he grinned, thoughtfully swinging his cigarette, “at night, they smoke in the windows, during the day they hide in the bushes. You can smoke here. You just can't get caught, you know?”

“So, can you at least walk around the corner for decency's sake?” Elijah raised an eyebrow, questioning and haughty.

“Why?” Leo asked quietly. “I can piss on their faces, they won't do anything to me while you're here.”

“And then?”

“What then?” the cigarette bounced up and down between his lips. “Does it matter?”

A lighter flickered. Leo breathed in the smoke with difficulty, and it rubbed across his throat like sandpaper, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue and a sweet taste of chocolate on his lips. The cigarette smoked heavily.

“Heavy and expensive,” Leo said, looking at the pack. “Just like you.”

Elijah ignored this. For too long he had listened to the younger Manfred selectively.

Leo took only a few puffs. He had not smoked for a long time, so he confused the quickening heartbeat with pleasure. It was like a happy anticipation and a pleasant excitement. He felt alive for the first time.

“Can I keep it?” Leo waved the pack. “It's really hard here without them.”

Elijah reached into his coat pocket and turned away. You could tell by the curve of his mouth that he wasn't happy. The longer he stared at the gray wall of the building, the more tense the silence became.

“Does therapy help you?”

Leo coughed. He hoped that if he coughed up his lungs now, he wouldn't need to say anything.

“Answer the question,” Elijah asked imperiously.

“No,” Leo said with disdain.

“‘No’ because you need a different approach or ‘no’ because you don't want to make an effort?”

“‘No’ because it's bullshit,” Leo looked at Kamski with anger.

The corners of Elijah's mouth twitched. He was clearly displeased with this response.

“So you just don't want to make the effort,” he stated in a monotone voice.

The phrase hit Leo in the stomach. He gasped with indignation.

“This,” he pointed the cigarette between his fingers at the building, “is complete bullshit, Elijah. I've had enough of their ‘tell me what you don't want to tell’ therapies. I'm tired of their stifling revelations and snot-chewing. We are all unhappy, each in his own way, how fucking unexpected it is!”

Leo threw up his hands.

“Did you tell them?” Elijah turned his blue eyes to Manfred. “Did you tell them anything at all?”

“No! Of course not, damn it.”

“It won't work if you don't start talking.”

“Fuck it!” Leo shouted. “I'm not going to participate in this group rape. I won't complain that my father doesn't need me. Especially about...”

The voice trembled treacherously. Manfred turned away.

“Leo,” Elijah called softly.

“It's the smoke...”

Kamski looked down and crossed his arms. He didn't know what to do when Leo's eyes suddenly started to water from the smoke, the wind, or unpleasant memories.

“I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to write about it. I don't even want to think about it. They want to dig into themselves, so they can get a shovel in their hands. I just want to stop thinking about it. This is not a sad story to make everyone cry and say a compassionate ‘oooh’. It is mine. Personal. And I want it to stay that way.”

Elijah looked down at the toes of his shoes thoughtfully. His lips twitched. He wrapped his coat around him and sat down on the bench. Leo moved away instinctively.

“You told me about it,” Kamski breathed out softly and very delicately.

“Now I regret,” Leo growled back, rolling the cigarette between his fingers.

He was silent for a long time. Elijah didn't say anything either. He just stared up at the gray sky, which made his blue eyes look muddy and clouded.

“If you think that makes me feel better,” Leo's voice was hoarse, “you're wrong. And telling more people about it is not going to make it any easier for me either.”

Elijah winced.

“They are right about one thing,” Manfred waved a hand. “I'm running. We—” he glanced at the building, correcting himself, “are running. And locking us in here alone with ourselves with no alternative to drugs is the worst idea.”

“One on one with your problems,” Elijah brushed invisible dust from his perfectly black coat, “you can't run forever. You can't run away from yourself.”

Leo turned his head and stared at Kamski for a long moment. There was no emotion in his glassy eyes.

“It's not me, Elijah,” he said hoarsely after a long pause. “What happened is not me.”

“It's part of you.”

“The part I want to forget about,” Leo breathed in the cigarette smoke and jumped nervously on the bench, trying to sit more comfortably. “There are things that can't be coped with group therapy, long walks in the fresh air, and unpleasant routines. There are problems that can't be solved, you can only run away from them... and we were denied this opportunity.”

“You were forced to make an effort to overcome difficulties,” Kamski added a clarification

Leo hissed in annoyance.

“You can't refuse something without finding an alternative,” he breathed in the smoke with a whistle. “Even if we try to make ourselves all right, even if we break this vicious circle... as long as the addiction is in our heads, we are in danger. We cannot get rid of it by isolation, because obsessive thoughts do not come from outside.”

He paused for a brief moment and looked up, as if there was something in the sky that distracted him.

“I just want to get high.”

Elijah visibly tensed.

“Every fucking day, all I think about is how much I want to get high,” Leo hastily breathed in the smoke, stubbed out the cigarette and throwing it into the shrubs. “I think if I get out of here—” he cleared his throat, “as soon as I get out of here, I will—”

Manfred paused thoughtfully. There were things he shouldn't have said in front of Elijah.

“Prohibitions don't work,” Leo said. “We need alternatives.”

“What alternatives?” Elijah's voice was tense and displeased.

Leo shrugged his shoulders.

“More diverse activities? Something distracting? Maybe a phone or laptop—”

“That's out of the question,” Elijah cut him off.

“At least a TV,” Manfred asked in a whining, childish voice. “You know, the morgue is more fun place than this...”

Elijah Kamski narrowed his eyes, put his hands in the pockets of his coat, and pursed his lips in displeasure.

“That's where you'll end up if you continue…”

Leo scratched his dry lips with a fingernail and glared at Elijah.

He promised not to devalue other people's problems so obviously, but whatever it was, there was indifference in his words, in his look, in his expression, and even in his presence. It may have been rude, but Leo's problems are just Leo's problems. Kamski was willing to help with them, but he didn't exactly sign up to solve them.

“I want to go home,” Leo's voice was quiet and hesitant.

Elijah seemed to become uncomfortable. He sighed heavily, fixed his coat, and crossed his legs.

“We agreed that you would stay here for three months,” his voice was cold.

“We didn't agree about ‘here’,” Leo snapped.

“Really?”

The look in his blue eyes hurt Manfred. His voice, usually soft and calm, but now quivering with tension, sounding a tone higher and more resonant, was full of contempt.

“You absolutely have no willpower,” Kamski said, looking away.

“It's not true,” Leo whispered. He knew Elijah was right, and it made him angry. He had never been able to resist temptation, but like any human being, he was sure that if he needed it badly, he could control himself and overcome it. Just not right now. He was not ready now, and he knew very well that he never would be. Fighting with yourself, suffering for the good — a hard path you need to go through with your teeth clenched. There wouldn't be a good time for him to do it, they both knew that.

“I remember,” Elijah's voice became dangerously calm and relaxed, “after the hospital, you swore you were done with drugs forever, but here we are...”

“That—” Leo grimaced irritably and nervously. “That was just an episode...”

“How many such episodes were? How many more will be?”

“It was—” Manfred breathed out heavily, knowing that he couldn't finish the sentence without lying. “It won't happen again.”

Elijah turned his head and stared at Leo for a long moment. It was impossible to bear the heavy, burning gaze. Leo lowered his head guiltily, gritted his teeth, and shrank to the size of a pumpkin seed, hoping he could just disappear.

“You know I don't believe you,” Elijah said softly. “I wish I could, but I can't.”

“This time—” Leo's voice faltered and broke into a hoarse rasp. “This time it will be different.”

“You start repeating yourself...”

Leo pursed his lips painfully. Sometimes just faith is not enough. He would like to keep at least one of his words. But all the promises at once lose their meaning when you really want to get high.

“«This time,” Leo licked his lips nervously, “it will be different. I swear. It won't happen again...”

“Good, if that's true,” Elijah said under his breath, fixing his coat.

He turned and gave Manfred a strange look. A thoughtful, maybe doubtful.

“This is the last chance, Leo,” Kamski's voice was barely heard in the wind, “there will be no others. I can't help someone who doesn't want help. I'm not going to pull you out of this swamp by your ears anymore. You've had too many attempts already. This is the last one. If you can't handle it—”

Elijah turned away, exhaling heavily. He made it clear that if Leo betrayed his trust again, their paths would separate. Elijah forgave Manfred too much. More than anyone else. Even his brother was not so honored.

Leo closed his eyes and breathed out. He opened his mouth to say ‘I promise’, but didn't have time. The phone in Elijah's coat pocket vibrated insistently, alerting him to an incoming call. And that call was a hundred and a thousand times more important than anything Leo had to say.

Elijah didn't bother answering the phone quickly. Lazily, he took his phone out of his pocket, stared at the screen for a long time, then finally accepted the call, threw a short ‘I'm coming’ and immediately disconnected. Leo thought with annoyance that for all his philosophical slowness, Kamski did not like to waste his time. He never spent a second more than was necessary. So there's a question: how much time was he willing to give Leo today?

“I have to go.”

Even less than usual. Leo clicked his tongue. He shouldn't have set high expectations for these meetings. They became forced.

For too long Leo has been too uncomfortable with his addiction. But Elijah was still here. It should have been gratifying to Leo that a man who refused everything burdensome without regret was still with him for some reason, but it was not gratifying at all. He felt like a burden, and he was beginning to think about breaking this relationship with Elijah, even if it was the only thing that kept him on the line.

Kamski stood up. He was not going to choose the right words and prolong the good-bye indefinitely. This is not their last meeting.

“Are you coming next week?” Leo asked casually.

Elijah took a deep breath. He hoped he could avoid this question.

“I'll be out of town.”

Elijah's gaze moved across the bleak, bare courtyard. Manfred sighed.

“These are important meetings, Leo,” Kamski said with pressure.

“I know, I know,” the young man mumbled. “I'm not three years old. I understand that meeting with me has never been important enough for you...”

“We can reschedule,” Elijah said as gently as he could. “You're not going anywhere...”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Leo agreed, but at that moment he desperately wanted to hang himself on his own sheet, only for Elijah's words to become fatal.

Elijah's lips tightened, and his face looked sharpened.

“Thursday,” he broke the long silence. “Evening. I'll come to you for a while.”

Leo pursed his lips to hide a faint smile.

“Bring something for you?” Elijah reached up, pulled back the sleeve of his coat, and glanced at the dial of his watch.

“Cigarettes.”

Elijah gave him a disapproving look.

“And laptop.”

“Leo,” Elijah said imperiously. Obviously this was synonymous with a categorical no.

“At least a book,” Leo said with a despair.

“Okay,” Kamski nodded, “okay. I'll bring you a book.”

He raised a hand and, with the care common to all who deal with wild animals, patted Leo's hair sentimentally. Manfred grimaced, but said nothing.

“I have to go,” he said softly, under his breath. “See you Thursday, Leo.”

“See you Thursday, Elijah.”

Kamski turned and walked confidently away. It's always like this with them — neither hello nor goodbye. This makes meetings look cursory, but less burdensome.

Leo counted to ten before looking up. Elijah was no longer in the courtyard.

“You’re not.”

“Well I’m getting there.” Elijah says distractedly, not bothering to look up from his work. 

“Uh huh, I’ve heard that one before.” Leo leans against the doorway to his lab. “Chloe told me it’s been four days since you had more than six hours sleep.”

“I’ve napped, I haven’t forgone sleep entirely.” Elijah frowns, tapping away on his keyboard with one hand and scribbling notes with the other. “Both of you are worrying for nothing, I do take breaks to rest.”

“I’ve also heard that one before.” He cocks a brow, noting the light sheen of sweat on his brow. And the blanket wrapped tightly around him, despite it being warm enough to wear t-shirts. “Hey, are you alright?”

“Leo-”

“No, you’re-” He crosses the room and places his wrist to Elijah’s damp forehead. “Shit Eli, you’re burning up!”

That makes him actually look up from his work, meeting Leo’s eyes with uncertainty. “Oh am I? I was wondering why it felt so cold in here.” His icy blue eyes are bloodshot, glazed with fever, and Leo sighs.

“You’re not just sleep-deprived, you’re sick.” He makes a beckoning gesture. “Alright, come on. I’ll run you a tepid bath and get Peter to make you something gentle on the stomach. Because I know you haven’t eaten in ages either.”

“I ate!” Elijah protests automatically, withering a little under Leo’s unimpressed stare. “Alright, so I grazed occasionally.”

“You’re impossible.” Leo groans, guiding him to sit on the bathtub rim while he fiddles with the tap. “Bath, meal, meds then bed. No arguments.”

Elijah opens his mouth, then closes it once he sees the stern expression. “No arguments.”

*~*~*

It’s some time in the afternoon when Elijah finally wakes, and Leo’s sprawled out atop the sheets beside him, still fast asleep. His eyes feel sore and his mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton, but he no longer feels exhausted and freezing. The sheets are slightly damp, so he knows he must have sweated out his fever and it would have broken overnight. Rolling onto his side, he tangles his fingers in Leo’s unruly curls, the touch waking him from sleep. 

“Hey.” Leo rubs his eyes. “How’re you feelin’?”

“I’m glad you ignored my defiant claims of not needing sleep.” Elijah smiles apologetically. “I really needed that.”

“S’ok.” Leo stifles a yawn before wriggling closer, wrapping his arms around his waist and tucking his head under his chin. “You just need a little reminding you’re still human sometimes.”