Rage, rage

Rhys knew the traveling and everything else that Sebastian had gone through had to weigh heavy on him. So the only reason he would sneak out of bed was just to let Seb get more sleep while he went ahead and started his day. Sometimes he caved into the need to just lay there and snuggle closer to him, just savor the quiet moment together because it had been seven goddamn years since they last saw each other. And Rhys would be damned if anything took that moment of safety, of pure contentment, away from him again. He just got Sebastian back, and he was the happiest he had ever been in a long time.

“I know, I try to be,” he teased. Unless it came to his skills at video games, Rhys never was much of one to stroke his own ego. “Don’t mention it.” He was about to lift his head, but Sebastian leaned in and already placed a kiss to his cheek. The gesture alone made his heart race and the smile spread wider across his face. He loved the small affections that Sebastian gave him; he wasn’t much of one to let words express how he felt and usually kept to himself. But after all those years, Rhys had missed being able to take his hand or receiving those small kisses. Even the nights when Seb would slip into his bed– he missed all of it. Missed him. But he was back now, alive despite everything he had been through to get there.

He made his way back over to the refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of coffee creamer and a half gallon of milk. He even snatched some sugar for the coffee before he made his way back to the table to set them all down. “Nothing this morning,” he replied, “working at the clinic’s got my internal clock all screwed up. It’s easier for me getting out of bed in the mornings now, even on my days off.”

Rhys glanced over at the pot of coffee, which had just finished brewing. Sebastian had already grabbed the mugs, so he left it to him to pour out the coffee for them. “Looks like you’re stuck with me today, Seb,” he teased again, smiling over at his friend while he took a seat at the table. He was glad to finally have a day where neither work nor Syndicate would pull him away from anything he wanted to do. Granted if The Syndicate needed him, the call wouldn’t go ignored. But since the attack on the Initiative facility, things had been rather quiet.

“What about you? Anything you want to do today?” That was about how Rhys was taking all this– one day at a time. But he knew the topic would have to come up eventually: plans for the future. What was Seb going to do? Was he going to stick around L.A.? Or was he going to travel again, try to find a way to fix what he had unintentionally sparked with his powers? Rhys was willing to help him with anything he needed, but he couldn’t leave L.A. Couldn’t leave The Syndicate. They had become family, played a role in picking himself back up after he had been on the run and after he thought he had lost everyone he cared about. Fortunately, he managed to get Orion and Sebastian back, but he still worried and wondered how long his luck would last on both counts.

“We can go out if you want. Maybe just go on a drive or something. Or we can just stay around home.” The word slipped out before he could correct himself. Here, he should have said. He didn’t know Seb’s plans, but still, the idea of his house being their home fit. Seb belonged there. But if that was against whatever his friend had planned, then Rhys had to respect that. First, though, he had to gain the courage to ask.

“Whatever you want to do,” he added instead.

There were a number of things the Irishman knew he should do. He didn’t have much to his name or on his person. There were some things he could still get his hands on. He hadn’t been entirely daft. He knew what he was, and what that meant. He was well-aware of the dangers of living in this world as a mutant, without destroying and killing. Not all mutants were hunted. Some managed to stay forever hidden amongst the general populace. Sebastian had given the Initiative plenty of reason to go after him though for that lab incident, even if he was trying to do something good, something he believed in. It still all went wrong and blew up in his face. It didn’t matter the intent, he was a wanted man. 

While he couldn’t go back to where he’d been, lucky for him, the U.S. government couldn’t touch everything. If he was careful, Seb could possibly regain some of his funds to live off of. He could use more clothes and some other necessary items. He hadn’t quite figured out how he was going to go about retrieving any of his money or anything, but he had some ideas. He also had no idea what he was going to do for work anymore either. He had to lay low for the time being but he couldn’t stay in hiding indefinitely.

A small chuckle escaped him as Rhys teased. You are, he wanted to insist. And if he hadn’t been grappling with so many uncertain variables, he might have. But Rhys was a part of more than one of those uncertainties. Seb was just too much the coward to say or do or even ask anything. He just thought it best not to throw another wrench into the fold. 

He poured out coffee for the both of them as it finished brewing, returning to the table to set down the mugs where each of them were sitting. “There ’re worse things I could be stuck wit’,” he replied as he sat down, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He stirred in some milk and sugar for his coffee, debating the older man’s question. What did he want to do? Plenty. But it wasn’t so much a matter of what he wanted versus what he could do at the moment - which was a lot of damage.

Home. The word didn’t actually jump out at Sebastian, as it just sounded and felt natural coming from Rhys and all their history. Their respective residences had always included each other - even when they lived separately. They were always visiting with one another. Always had a place with the other if need be. For Seb, home wasn’t a physical place for him to go to. It was wherever Rhys had been. So it just felt normal to him, which was what he ended up dwelling on instead. “A drive sounds nice actually,” he admitted. As much as he didn’t want to go out and potentially cause a catastrophe, he didn’t want the other man to feel cooped up. And he wanted to spend as much time with him as he possibly could, having years to make up for. Everything was just one day at a time for now.

“Look, I know we ‘ave a lot to talk about still. Ya must ‘ave plenty o’ questions yer not askin’, an’ I appreciate yer bein’ patient wit’ me - as ye always ‘ave been.” He began, his hands each resting on the table on either side of his plate. He was fidgeting with his fingers, staring down at a blank spot on the tabletop. This was not Seb’s forte, talking like this. And he quickly found himself at a loss for more words - or really - for the courage to say more of what was on his mind. He was biting his lip then.

“I don’t know where to begin.”

Sebastian.

She knows him instantly, and she should; she’d drawn the picture that had let Rhys know he was alive and that they’d be reunited. She wants to smile at the memory of the look on Rhys’ face once he’d gotten over his shock and told her about the man who’d meant so much to him. The man who’s now standing in front of her and looking as exhausted as she feels.

Friday shuffles forward hesitantly, only moving a step and a half closer before she stops. She fidgets in place unsure how to start or what to say. Does she mention that she knows who he is? That she’d known he was coming? That Rhys had been thrilled beyond belief to know they’d be seeing each other again? She doesn’t know – she never knows – so instead she sticks to what she usually does.

She just starts talking.

“U-um. I–. My name is Friday? I–. Rhys is–.”

My friend, special to me, what I wish my father would’ve been, gone.

Her gaze lowers, tears prickling at her eyes and coming through in her voice.

“I-I’ve been trying to find him, but I–… I can’t, it’s not working, so I–. I thought… m-maybe being here….. being around his stuff would–… maybe it would help me.”

She glances up at the man quickly but averts her eyes again.

“I’m sorry, I-… it didn’t even occur to me that you’d be here, and it should have. I–. Just–… Please don’t make me leave.”

The moment she sees him, she stops. He freezes as well, uncertain, eyeing her carefully. There’s something about the expression on her face, bearing some kind of recognition. But the feeling he got was more like that of seeing a ghost. It made him uneasy. She moved forward only slightly, a mere shuffle to get her all the way in through the door. It shut behind her.

And then she started to speak, voice trembling and thick with emotion as she revealed a few things he hadn’t even asked the questions to yet. His chest felt tight, stomach in knots and heart thudding with an almost painful sense of urgency. She knew Rhys. She didn’t just know him though, she was clearly close to him. He meant something to her. Seb couldn’t help the small, sad smile that crossed his features then. Sebastian was grateful for that. Rhys was too good a person to live in seclusion. He thrived with the care and companionship of others. Much more so than Seb did himself.

He’d always done better with things rather than people.

“I’ve been lookin’ meself as well,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck uneasily. “I hit a wall though.” She might have more information. And if not, a fresh pair of eyes looking over what he had certainly couldn’t hurt. He didn’t know this young woman. But she must mean something to Rhys to have shown up there in that state. He couldn’t just turn her away. “I’m Sebastian...but somethin’ tells me ye already knew that..” It wasn’t a question, but a statement - a feeling he got based on her initial reaction upon discovering him. “I’ll put some water on for tea. Maybe we can shake somethin’ loose together?” He gently suggested, not exactly knowing how to comfort her. He was not very good with this sort of thing. People were difficult for him.

Some counted it as a victory, but Griffith had a hard time viewing it that way. It had been too messy, even if it was easy to get the media to spin it in their favor. That kind of damage control only served them so much, and with so many who’d escaped that day it didn’t count for enough. Especially when the one target he’d been hunting for, a man on a blurry police sketch that he’d had cuffs and a black bag on, had somehow gotten away. It left an awful taste in his mouth, and a frustration with every agent in the California division. And despite his best efforts, staring through yellow police tape didn’t paint him a trail of where he’d run to. Footsteps have him glancing over his shoulder, but fate hasn’t brought answers right to him.  “This is a closed crime scene. You’re gonna have to go around.”

While he’d hoped to get a closer look, the bar was still sectioned off as an active crime scene and buzzing with activity. Investigators. Media. Curious passersby and onlookers. Perhaps he should have waited until a bit later in the evening, but he was already there. He wasn’t going to just leave without at least taking a look around on the off-chance something jumps out at him. Anything. He was unfortunately greeted by a man he could only assume had some sort of law enforcement position despite lacking a uniform or visible badge. His assumption was confirmed the moment the man opened his mouth to redirect him.

“Apologies.” Sebastian murmured, ducking his head a bit as he passed, hoping to be more unassuming as he glanced passed the tape, taking in everything he could but there wasn’t much to see from there. People standing around were speculating and exclaiming, talking about things they’d heard from others or witnessed themselves. One even mentioned the man that had previously just spoken to him having been there. Now that was something.

Seb considered his options for a moment, ultimately deciding on taking a potentially dangerous approach. Returning to the man, Sebastian cleared his throat. “Excuse me, but I was wonderin’ if ye could direct to me to someone I could speak wit’ regardin’ a missin’ person?”

It had been a couple of days since Sebastian had come back. Rhys was more than happy to have his friend around, but there was the nagging question of whether Sebastian would stay or not. If he was going to have to leave, whether it was because The Initiative was still on his trail or if he didn’t feel he could stay because of his powers. Rhys tried to dismiss the thought, but it kept creeping its way back into his mind no matter what he did.

That morning was like it had been the last couple of days. Rhys waking up with Sebastian’s arms around him, breathing slowly as he continued to sleep. Rhys was usually an early riser, mostly because of his job at the clinic having early hours. He turned his head to glance back at Seb, just to check if he was still asleep. He never meant to wake him up when he would get up, carefully slipping from his hold to let Sebastian sleep a little more.

He decided to go ahead and start making breakfast for them, figuring he would wake Sebastian up after breakfast was done just so he could have something to eat to start the day. Not that Rhys really was going anywhere that morning, but he was craving scrambled eggs and toast that morning. Even decided to make some bacon and two cups of coffee for him and Sebastian. He was used to having some of the Syndicate over at his place, especially if they needed a place to crash at night or when Rhys would have them stay after he would heal them. But the mornings with Seb were different from that.

Rhys wondered if things between them really were still the same. Sure they seemed to pick up where they had left off, but not entirely. There was still a lot under the surface that needed to be talked about, but neither of them seemed ready to step up and speak their mind. Maybe because it had already been so long, or maybe because Sebastian was only staying for a short time. Maybe he just wanted to make sure Rhys was doing all right before he moved on, and Rhys would just have to accept it. If that was what Sebastian wanted, then he would be fine with it… or so he told himself. A selfish part of him wanted Sebastian to stay. But would he?

While the coffee was brewing, Rhys started to dish the eggs and bacon onto the plates, setting the pieces of toast on the side as well. Just as he turned around to set the plates on the table, Rhys spotted Seb’s silhouette coming down the hall. “Morning,” he greeted with a smile, “figured I’d let you sleep a little bit more while I made breakfast.”

It had only been a few days since he’d showed up on Rhys’ doorstep, but they’d been better than any of the last seven years spent apart. That he was sure. As much as he didn’t want to put the older man in any more danger, he didn’t want to leave. He was too conflicted about it to say anything. On one hand he could be selfish, on the other he could be self-sacrificing. But hadn’t he sacrificed enough? He’d already let him go once. And so silence of the subject ensued in a delicate dance of avoidance, the uncertainty almost palpable.

Each night Sebastian inevitably wound up in the other man’s bed tucked against him, his arms wrapped around his frame. The fact he even laid down to try and sleep in the guest room was rapidly becoming more of a formality. Every night spent like that was a night Seb seemed to sleep more soundly, more at ease. The first time in seven years he didn’t feel all alone. His heart ached but it was out of joy and love and no longer the loss of it.

Rhys was there. Right there with him. He still awoke in a momentary panic each morning, finding the bed empty beside him where Rhys had been. It was a fleeting fear though. He was never very far. It was his place after all. Sebastian had to remind himself. In college Seb had been the early riser. At least, earlier than Rhys. He was always up working on something. His mind far too restless to allow him much sleep.

The last few nights he’d slept like a rock. It was the best sleep he’d had in years, the last of which being the worst of it. His search had been long and dangerous. Any sleep he’d gotten had been brief, brought on by sheer exhaustion and filled with all the things he feared even in the broad light of day. That morning however, the panic didn’t come as he was instead met with the very distinctive scents of breakfast. That was enough to set him at ease before panic could even stir. 

The Irishman made his way to the kitchen, greeted with Rhys dishing out the plates and a smile. “Mornin’,” he replied, voice a bit husky. He ran a hand through his sleep-tussled hair, taming it ever so slightly. “Yer wonderful, thanks.” He smiled in return, moving to place an affectionate kiss to the side of the man’s face as if it were a regular occurrence. Speaking volumes more than the words he didn’t say. There were many things they’d yet to address. Things they’d been tiptoeing around. “What ‘ave ya got goin’ on today?” He grabbed a mug for each of them for when the coffee finished brewing, already learning his way around the place.

@whelanesque

Friday hasn’t been to work since the raid. She hasn’t really been to sleep since the raid either – every time she closes her eyes, she sees Rhys with a gun to his head telling her to run before the Initiative takes him away. Her guilty conscience isn’t helping matters either: she’d drawn it. Not clearly enough to be able to stop it from happening, but still. She should’ve shown someone. Anyone.

And now Rhys is gone, and she can only imagine what they’re doing to him. Sometimes she does, just to punish herself. But more often than not, Friday is desperately, desperately trying to find him. After days and days of trying, she’s had zero success, but she won’t give up. She hadn’t when she’d been looking for him in every bar in LA, and she won’t now. When it occurs to her that maybe something of his will help her focus on him, she feels a spike of something resembling optimism for the first time in days.

It’s early afternoon when she reaches tentatively for the handle of the front door. She hadn’t thought of how to get inside, and now that she’s here, she’s not so sure she wants to. Her guilty conscience screams at her that she deserves to be surrounded by the void and lifeless place that should instead be so full of him, and she agrees. It’s with a shaking hand that she turns the handle and to her surprise, the door opens. She stands shocked, too surprised and scared to step through the door.

The Irishman returned to the house and took over the living room with pieces of information and research as he’d slowly and desperately worked to connect the dots. Curtains drawn, alcohol readily available. He had to find him. He had to get him back. He had only just gotten him back in his life. He had to take breaks here and there - when his emotions threatened to spill over. The last thing he needed was to lose control there and then.

He’d been sleeping in Rhys’ bed when he managed to make it there, surrounded by his scent and memories. It had been a few days that Sebastian had been working on his investigation of the man’s whereabouts. Dead end after dead end. He was uncovering less and less new information and it was both frustrating and disheartening. He was pouring over all the documents and notes scattered upon the coffee table when the front door creaked open. He’d been so focused he hadn’t even heard it. It was only when he’d heard a female voice that he snapped to attention.

Did the Initiative know he was here? Where they coming for him? It didn’t seem likely given the time that had passed, and the tentative tone of the voice. Cautiously, he emerged from the living room to make his presence known. “Who might ya be an' what might ye be doin' here, lass?” Seb’s voice was unsure, as was his expression. His hair was somewhat messy and his beard a bit scruffier than he generally kept it, but probably the most defining feature of his current haggard state was how piercing his bright blue eyes looked in contrast with the dark circles around them.

Sebastian had wanted to find a solution. No matter what the consequences were, he had been willing to risk any and everything to get to the end result he thought he would have obtained. Whether it was to help himself or others, he had thought he was doing something good. Instead it seemed to only make matters worse, and he had blood on his hands. Rhys still kept hold of his hand, thumb stroking slow circles over the back of Seb’s hand. He wasn’t going to scold Sebastian, nor was he going to tell him he was right. Sebastian made a mistake, but his intentions had been good. While Rhys embraced the life of a mutant, he understood how it was hard for Sebastian. Why he was so keen to do something to change himself. Yet it still broke Rhys’ heart, because despite the mistakes made, even though Sebastian had done terrible things, Rhys adored Seb for who he was.

So when Sebastian had scooted closer, Rhys lifted his own head, lips grazing against Sebastian’s forehead. It may have overstepped some bounds, but Rhys didn’t know how else to comfort Sebastian. Assure him that he was going to stick to his word and stay at his side, even through what he had done. That he still cared for him so deeply even though he had made a mistake. Rhys wasn’t going to judge him, especially when he had killed people as well. Perhaps not innocents– Initiative agents. And perhaps they weren’t involved in the attacks that killed Lu or got any of the others captured, but Rhys had vengeance to deal with. And if that meant taking out a few Initiative agents here and there, so be it.

“I’m all right with that,” he replied with a soft chuckle, settling for resting his head against Sebastian’s. His fingers gently slipped between Sebastian’s, thumb stroking over the other man’s fingers ever so gently only to be tangled back together. The silence between them wasn’t awkward to him in the slightest; he was very comfortable where he was at Seb’s side even if they didn’t say a word. They definitely had been picking up right where they left off. Yet Rhys had more to say, more than just a brief summary of their time apart. Even after all those years, it was still held back in worry that those feelings weren’t returned. That maybe Sebastian had moved on. Seven years was a long time– a lot could change in all that time. Even so, there was still one thing Rhys was certain of.

“I missed you,” he whispered finally. Not the three words he wanted to say, but it was as close as he could get. In all that time, Rhys clung to the doubt in Sebastian being dead. He was plenty capable of handling himself, and he seemed to prove that after all this time. Even if Sebastian had gone through hell just to get there. “I wanted to find you, I just… I didn’t want to risk dragging The Initiative right to you. And going back to New York…” He could never go back. Not after the way things had left. Not when his last memory had been holding Lu in his lap, her blood on his hands as he tried in vain to heal her. To bring her back from the dead. And then to lose Sebastian so soon after…

He lowered his head, his temple resting against Sebastian’s head as he kept toying with the other man’s fingers. It wasn’t so much that he grieved over Sebastian, but over the time they lost. It had been so long, even after the night they had spent together. The last good memory Rhys clung to up until he had opened his door that night to see Sebastian standing there. “I should have still tried to find you.”

An almost inaudible hum resonated in the back of the Irishman’s throat as the other man’s lips brushed his forehead. Warmth just seemed to blossom and spread through every part of him after. That was a nice feeling, one he wouldn’t mind getting more acquainted with. He closed his eyes as they sat there quietly, content to remain just as they were for the foreseeable future. He didn’t want to move, and they didn’t always need to exchange words to be comfortable or enjoy each other’s company. “I missed ye too,” he whispered back, giving Rhys’ hand a light squeeze.

His eyes opened though and a frown settled on his face as the other man spoke further. “Don’t-” Seb protested, but Rhys continued on and it broke his heart. He pulled back enough to fix the other with his gaze. “Don’t do that.” He shook his head. “It’s not yer fault. A lot happened, an’ it wasn’t safe.” His rather pathetic attempt to console him. It still wasn’t safe. In fact, it was probably even more dangerous given the present circumstances for each of them. He suddenly felt the beating of his own heart booming in his chest, realizing just how close their faces were. He, of course, panicked. “Mind if I get meself cleaned up?” It wasn’t like he didn’t need to.

Seb took his time in the shower. He hadn’t had the opportunity to use hot water in quite awhile. His thoughts were racing a million miles a minute. He’d hoped for a moment of numbness, of just total relaxation. But it didn’t come. Even as tired as he was, his mind just wouldn’t slow down. He was far too anxious these days. He stepped out, combing his towel-dried hair off to the side with his fingers. Rhys had given him a change of clothes to spend the night in. Lucky for Sebastian, he and Rhys were roughly the same size and similar in build. It wasn’t the first time he’d wound up wearing his clothes. He sought the man out again after, standing somewhat awkwardly in his presence. “Thanks, Rhys…”

He couldn’t get comfortable. It was the safest he’d actually been since the incident and he felt like the room was stifling. Like he just couldn’t get enough air. He wasn’t hyperventilating, his chest just felt tight. Rhys was just in his own room, his own bed. Yet he felt so far away. So he slipped from his bed and crept to Rhys’ room, carefully crawling in behind the other man. Like he used to when he needed comfort. Sebastian cuddled up behind him, wrapping his arms around his middle and nuzzling his face against the back of his neck.

Emery.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever had a friend like you before. I’ve had friends - when I was younger. But we were young and reckless. Wasn’t meant to last, not the way I was going. I’m glad to have met you and honestly, I’d probably have died without your healing. I am so grateful to have you in my life.”

Sebastian.

“I’ve loved ya since we were lads. I remember sittin’ on the couch beside ya in our dorm one night. It was late. We were gettin’ stoned, listenin’ to records. An’ ye just took me hand an’ laced yer fingers wit’ mine like it was the most natural thing ye could do. I looked at ya an’ thought, ‘I love this man.’ It’s been true ever since. Everywhere ye ‘re is home to me, Rhys. Nothin’ else has ever made as much sense to me as you.”

It was stupid, to Rhys anyway, that it took him so long to realize exactly how much Sebastian meant to him. For how long they had known each other, for how close they were throughout their friendship, and that last night they spent together before they had been split up, Rhys should have put the pieces together a lot sooner than he had. It had almost been too late for him to tell Sebastian anything, to let him know how he really felt. But even now, he still couldn’t get the words out.

Right off the bat, Rhys felt his body tense. So his suspicions had been confirmed, that Sebastian had been on the run from The Initiative. Sounded like they gave him a hell of a time, too. Worry twisted at his gut, concern overpowering any anger. There was no anger toward Sebastian, but mostly at The Initiative for trying to take someone else that mattered to him from his life. So it really shocked him to find out the blame Sebastian was carrying. That he killed so many people, that his powers were even more out of control.

“Seb,” he whispered, leaning forward again to try and meet his gaze. Ever since he found out he was a mutant, Rhys had embraced that part of himself. Just as his mother had. She even went on to become a doctor, use her powers to help people. Yet she was still killed for it, and he was hunted for being what he was. It was easier for him to accept what he was when his powers did little to harm anyone. In Sebastian’s case, he understood why he would have tried to do something to suppress his abilities, stop himself from losing control. Instead, it ended up getting even more out of control. But in all the time he had been around Sebastian, Rhys never felt that he would hurt him. Not that the possibility wasn’t there, but Rhys trusted Sebastian that much, despite the lack of control.

There was so much he wanted to say. Sorry for not coming back to find him, sorry for not trying t contact him somehow. Maybe if he had been able to reconnect with Sebastian sooner, then things would have been a lot different. Rhys always told himself not to focus on the maybes, but this had been tearing at Sebastian, he could tell. Even though everything that happened had been a very rough summary, Rhys knew this all weighed so heavy on Sebastian. He reached out and took one of Sebastian’s hands in his own. “You didn’t know,” he said softly, “you didn’t know how bad it would get. You said it yourself, you were just trying to fix it. You didn’t mean to do what you did… but no matter what happens now, I’m here for you. No matter what. All right?”

He knew Sebastian didn’t want to linger a whole lot longer on the subject, so Rhys left it at that. But still kept a hold of his hand, fingers laced with Seb’s and his gaze dropped to their hands. “The Initiative knows about me, too,” he replied, “had known since they saw me in New York. I’d been dodging them up until I got to L.A. The Syndicate ended up finding me, wanted me in their ranks. I’ve been with them for a few years now. And if you’ve been watching the news recently, you might already know about our first encounter with them.” Rhys wasn’t one to keep secrets from his closest friends, not unless he was absolutely sworn to secrecy. Plus this was Sebastian, he trusted him with anything he told him. So it wasn’t hard to tell him about The Syndicate, about how involved he was, and even about the war they had started with them just recently.

“Sounds like my year was a walk in the park compared to yours,” he added, even though it felt like anything but that.

Sebastian’s original idea of fixing it was to basically turn the dial down. Then he thought bigger. ‘What if I could just target and remove the DNA altogether?’ And then it became even bigger than himself. ‘What if I could do the same for others that want the same thing?’ And that’s where his misguided ambition shifted gears entirely. He wanted too much. Perhaps he could have succeeded at dialing it down. His work was all gone though, save for what he could remember. What he already knew. What he managed to hastily scribble down in his notebook along the way as things came. But he was a long ways off of figuring out where he went wrong.

He still had to gather info all over again. Piece together the holes in his equations. Figure more calculations. Study more cells and genes. He didn’t need to start all over again. It was his life’s work now after all. He retained much of it. It was like picking up in the middle of where you left off after an extended period of time has passed without. Like returning halfway into a book and having to rattle your memory for the previous chapters. You remember the general summary. The outline. All the major pieces of information and how much of it connects. But perhaps the smaller details that you once called upon readily now escaped you. Why was that moment so funny? What was missing in this sequence?

Rhys whispered his name and Sebastian merely closed his eyes against the erratic thudding of his heart in his chest, wishing the circumstances were different. Wishing everything had happened differently since that night. His eyes fluttered open when the other man took hold of his hand and entwined his fingers with his own. He stared at Rhys with a sad, tired look. But there was also that same look he always fixed the other man with. That gentle look that spoke volumes where his timid heart failed to. He’d been looking at Rhys that way since he was seventeen. Probably even before. He always adored him.

“It doesn’t matter. I knew there’d be consequences. I didn’t test it properly. I didn’t follow regulations. I used meself as the guinea pig. I’m a geneticist, I should ‘ave known better.” He did know better. There he was going on about the flaws of his endeavor, his judgment or better yet lack thereof. Just more to add to the ever-growing pile of other mistakes he’s made over the years. Miscalculations. Imperfect theories. Being an oblivious git when he should have been paying better attention. For all of his logic and reasoning, Sebastian was at times hasty. Reckless. His sights were so set on the end result that he failed to properly address the hurdles leading up to it.

Seb stopped though listening instead to Rhys now, hands still clasped together so intimately. The Syndicate. He’d only really heard about the lot on glimpses of the news that he managed to capture drifting through someplace with a telly. He knew better than to take the media at their word, about either side of the conflict. There was much they didn’t know themselves even. The war with mutants was one somewhat shrouded. The Initiative was the government’s attempt to keep things under wraps and avoid mass hysteria. At least that was what it all seemed to come down to at the roots, from a logical standpoint.

their physical weak spots

their emotional/moral weak spots

scars or painful spots

best places to kiss on their body

guilty pleasures

their vices (physical or emotional)

bad memories or experiences

humiliating memories

fears or phobias

bad or petty habits

grudges and vendettas

what gets them flustered

ingrained habits or forces of habit

what it takes to make them cry

dark secrets or skeletons in the closet

regrets

things they’ll never admit

people they’ve indirectly hurt or killed, and how it affected them

what-ifs or alternate timelines