#panic starters

Cyrus spared the man a brief glance before turning away, pretending to busy himself with the intricate paneling on the wall. “Good timing. As always.”

“What was all of that about?” Soft footsteps signaled Maleus’ approach. “Is… are you well?”

The cynical huff Cyrus gave in response was probably enough of an answer. But he expanded because it was Maleus. If anyone had even the slightest chance of understanding…

“It’s just… It’s been so long since I was last here. I don’t…” Cyrus shook his head. He had even been avoiding the airship’s windows. “I… always felt like a stranger in Republic City.”

He felt the corner of Maleus’ sleeve brush against him as he moved to his side. “And you fear you will feel like one again, even though you are home.”

It wasn’t a question. Cyrus nodded anyway, the movement small and uncertain. Ashamed. Embarrassed. “I just hate being this fucking ridiculous, Mal,” he said suddenly, reaching up and scrubbing his face with his hands. “It’s such bullshit, but I can’t… just the idea of walking out there and feeling nothing…”

This time Maleus reached out, resting a hand on Cyrus’ shoulder. “It’s not ridiculous,” he said softly, and Cyrus knew immediately where his mind might have gone. He kicked himself for his selfishness. “You don’t need to go, if you are truly against it. No one here will force you.”

Cyrus snorted. “Tell that to the angry mob.”

“They were not angry, Cyrus.”

“… I know.” This time, Cyrus turned to face Maleus fully. The man’s expression wasn’t pitying or sad. Just… patient. Understanding. He always was. 

Fuck, he deserved a lot better than this shit.

Suddenly, Cyrus reached out, snagging Maleus’ hands, holding them in his. He moved quickly not because he was trying to shock the other man, but so he couldn’t talk himself out of it.

“Come with me.” A pause. A nervous swallow. “Please.”

Maleus raised his brows, but only for a moment as he pieced together Cyrus’ request. “Of course. You know I always planned to.”

“I know,” Cyrus said quickly, heart stammering. What was he doing? “I just… wanted to ask you for once. Because you always do shit for me and I don’t want you to feel like I just… expect it. Or I don’t appreciate it. I do. So…” He trailed off, feeling like the most immense idiot to walk the face of the planet. Actually, even worse. His stupidity had also graced the air. 

Instead of attempting more words, he just squeezed Maleus’ hands slightly, hoping that would be enough to say what he could not trust himself to voice. I need you. I’m sorry for needing you. I want you to need me too.

Maleus squeezed back, the action almost firm. Resolute.

“I will always be there for you, Cyrus, whether or not you thank me or ask me for it. But…” The man smiled, releasing one of Cyrus’ hands to tip his chin up so they were seeing eye-to-eye. “I will not pretend it is not nice to hear it is… appreciated.”

Cyrus snorted softly, eyes flicking to the side. “Yeah well, more people should appreciate all the shit you do. Me most of all.”

He could practically feel Maleus soften the way he always did when he felt particularly touched by something. Spirits, the man was too much. You’d think Cyrus had declared him a saint, rather than just spoken the obvious. 

“That… is very kind of you.”

“No, it isn’t.” This time, Cyrus did look at him. Fully. Properly. He could lose himself in those warm brown eyes. “I… can do a lot better. This is just me… starting.”

He could do better. He would do better. Starting was always the hardest part for Cyrus.