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Who: Aaron Strider and Julien Sakazaki
When: Forwards-dated to Monday the 16th
Where: LSR clinic.
What: Julien has been avoiding Aaron, even since Aaron "came back". This cannot stand.

There have been a lot of things, mostly of little consequence, that Julien wants to tell Aaron. Diners that have stopped salting their fries, how a public square got yarnbombed and a bunch of different people are fighting for credit. The he's collected a gallon of tainted water and labelled it with a smiley face and crossbones and wants to hold on to it. That he thinks maybe, since he can see changes in heart rate and little rapid expressions, he might be able to learn to tell if someone was lying. That he's probably entirely used to how people look like now, the other day he'd appreciated a face without forcing himself to for the first time since his eyes changed, and even if it was a different kind of beauty, that's a good sign, right?

But he hasn't. Though he's kept coming in to work, Julien stays away almost as much as he had for the past three weeks, and he still feels half in mourning. It's hard, and he hates it, but it's for the best.

Part of him had known, after all, that nothing lasted, particularly the experience of being loved, or being able to rely completely on someone. And when they left or soured it was so much worse than when a more casual friend did. The Apostle was, is, so familiar with that that he'd made it into part of him. Julien doesn't want that. He's gone and written about it, even.

Aaron hadn't been too difficult to avoid before. Not that he'd been clumsy, but he'd made some sound when he walked. Julien doesn't these days, plus his eyes are unequaled, and he'd done his various tasks like a ghost. Now, rearranging the contents of a cabinet with a practiced eye, noting down that this or that was running low or getting close to the expiration date, he keeps his ears open, but his back is to the door.

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"You've been quiet," a familiar voice says from the doorway. "It was strange to hear the place empty of your chatter before, and it's twice as strange now. Are you all right?"

Julien's unusually taciturn manner was odd, and to be perfectly frank, Aaron's worry was that something had happened while he'd been absent-in-mind, something serious that Julien hadn't told him about yet.

Damn it.

Julien tenses slightly, and makes his shoulders relax as he finishes the notation - his handwriting, he's joked in the past, is not suitable for doctor handwriting and that's why he's avoided the medical field - and sets the clipboard aside. He takes a grasp of his voice, makes sure it will be casual and a little distant, but he doesn't turn around just yet. He knows that right now, his eyes will give him away. "Hmm? Ah, sorry sir. I'm fine."

Edited 2013-09-14 03:51 (UTC)

"Fine, maybe," Aaron says, leaning against the door. "But also different. I'd like to know why."

He'd been given an idea of what it was from Bakura, but didn't want to assume, or accuse, or jump into a confrontation over something like this so fast. It's not the most familiar territory for Aaron, either.

For a moment Julien closes his eyes, both sets of eyelids pressing tight. Then he opens the outer ones and turns around, his pupils tight. At a distance it's harder to see his inner eyelids, their main effect is that they cut the reflective shine on his eyes. "I - yeah, if anyone should know, it's you."

He wants to cross his arms across his chest, but that would be defensive-looking. Julien makes his hands slide into his pockets, feigning casualness, aware that he is sweating. It's okay, he knows, if he looks uncomfortable here, this is an uncomfortable topic. "So I found out a bit about the Apostle. Whatever he is, there's this disease they carry that doesn't hurt them, but uh... well, it killed seventy percent of humanity in two years and wasn't done yet."

Aaron's eyes widen. Whatever he was expecting to hear, it wasn't that. "Good god," he mutters. He's not going to ask if Julien's sure -- of course he is, or else it wouldn't have been brought up. "Do you know anything else about the disease? Its origins, its nature, its name?"

"Not much," Julien admits. He's glad this is taken seriously. There have been dreams... well, they're dreams, anyway, fragmented mixtures of everything going on. "I remember - I think a lecture in a class, or something. It's something called H5N1 or Sumatera Influenza."

He doesn't know H5N1 is bird flu. He's only ever heard of H1N1.

"It's from the future - 2068 and after, actually. Uh... I have all this stuff written down, or I can recite it, sir. I... honestly, I don't know if I'm going to get it, but if I do..."

"It's bird flu," Aaron explains, cutting Julien off. "I've never heard it called 'Sumatera,' but H5N1 is avian influenza."

He'd like to hear about the historical context, definitely -- in a moment. Julien's kind was carrying bird flu?

Curious.

But -- well, if it really was bird flu, then whatever the Apostle was probably wasn't a normal bird, since H5N1 was dangerous to them. "You said they only carried it -- that it didn't harm them? It was only dangerous to humans?"

"Wh-" He stops his voice and closes his mouth, pupils slamming wide. This again - why does Aaron keep - oh, he knows why, but - Julien feels the heat in his face as he flushes red. He fiddles with the buttons at his collar and reminds himself - he is not turning into a bird. He's not!

It's not like becoming something out of myth or science fiction, it isn't. It will not happen. It will not happen.

Repeating that forcefully enough, even to himself, helps. His pupils pin again. Julien pulls at his opened collar, bringing cooler air against his neck and chest. Besides, just because it's called that doesn't mean it doesn't get spread by other things, obviously, he reminds himself. He's overreacting. He has to keep talking.

"Well, s- she said it was 'rarely fatal' and some people had it and got over it, and some are carriers." There's a bit of guilt too - he shouldn't feel relieved to be talking about this, but it feels abstract to him, even though it's important. "And there was a war with humans, but most of the casualties were because of the flu. Ten percent were from battle, I don't know if she meant ten percent of the population, or what, but the end result was that humans surrendered with less than five percent of the old population, and... live on reservations."

Edited (curse you, tenses!) 2013-09-20 02:19 (UTC)

Aaron shakes his head, thoughtful, walking into the room properly.

"It must have been a mutated strain. H5N1's human mortality rate isn't nearly that high." Julien did say all this happened in the future, so mutated-strain is his working hypothesis for the moment. "I'd like to see any other information you might have on this, but later. I came here to talk about something else."

Here he'd been hoping that particular confession would be enough. Whatever Julien had said to Bakura, well, he doesn't-

"I didn't know... H5N1 was an actual thing," he says, mostly to himself. "Higher number therefore - I don't know, it's a future-thing." Julien rakes one hand through his hair, disarraying it further. He hasn't been making it up to be artistically messy for a while now, and the dark roots are starting to stand out, especially when he touches it like that.

He makes sure his voice is neutral. "Something else, sir?"

Edited 2013-09-21 02:29 (UTC)

Aaron folds his arms across his chest and fixes Julien with a look -- the look, the one that makes troublemakers see themselves out and criminals give honest medical histories.

Bird flu can wait. This needs to be cleared up now.

"You've been avoiding me. I think we should discuss why."

Julien meets the look and tries to hold it, but can't manage for more than a few seconds before lowering his gaze. Aaron's face is still in his field of view, Julien can still clearly see that look. Why does this make him so uncomfortable? Julien's been at this end before, a few times, and he's always looked away but it's always been okay. Even that first time.

Now - ever since July - Aaron's eyes are bloodshot and bear a ripply iridescent-edged sheen of liquid and twitch just slightly, all the time. But everyone's eyes are like that now. It's not frightening anymore, and anyway it's never made him feel... guilty.

Julien is pretty well cornered. A denial dies in his chest. "Yeah," he says, stalling for a second more. "Yeah, I have. I..." He exhales heavily, taking strength from that, and checks his voice, and in a burst as he's inhaling says "It was hard, okay? I thought I knew what to do but when it happened!"

With two fingers he rubs the bridge of his nose, pinches it. No glasses today. For a few seconds he doesn't have to look at Aaron. All in one breath, quickly, he says, "And I always thought the Apostle was a total cold fish, all drive and ice, but he's worse than me, or - he was, and that hit at just the wrong time and all he knew to do was wait and nurse this giant hole in his chest. Metaphorical hole." Then he has to stop.

Aaron listens. His expression doesn't soften, not exactly, but the hard line of his mouth takes on a little bit of sadness.

"And you're afraid it will happen again, is that it? You think that, if you keep your distance now, it won't be so hard next time?"

His voice is firm, driving the conversation, allowing for no distractions or tangents.

"I... kind of. Yes," Julien says, feeling like he has to drag each word out. He lowers his hand to clasp around his opposite forearm, and it appears as if he is only looking at the floor. "I didn't know who was upset, what was mine and... wasn't. But even before I remembered, and later when it wasn't so intense, I-"

He's starting to lose control over his voice, which means it's starting to sound like it's twinned. Julien stops for a moment and bears down on it.

Recent memory stirs and he keeps talking, disorganized, feeling like he has to try and keep ahead of something, not at all sure what. "I hate being left behind, but it happens, I know. Everything changes. I thought I was used to that. I just - it happens all the time, and that's different. I can always make new friends and I-" Something new comes to him so suddenly that he just says it. "-I can't replace you, Strider."

Even as he says it he feels it, again, becoming aware of his heavy heartbeat driving upwards, and Julien's eyes widen, his pupils dilate. "No! Not-"

For a moment, his shoulders relax, his hands open and drift to his sides, and his pupils pin and gape and pin again, the only motion visible in his face.

Edited 2013-09-22 01:58 (UTC)

Aaron's mouth opens to reply, to argue, to say something -- and then Julien tenses, crying out, and what's happening is easy enough to guess.

Oh, no.

He reaches forward immediately, taking Julien by the shoulders -- a pulse, he thinks, scanning Julien with sharp eyes for any signs of a physical change.

Julien's breathing is still the same, he notes, and nothing he can see is obviously different. But more than that, the vacant look on Julien's face makes Aaron guess that it's not a body-pulse but a memory that Julien's experiencing right now. To be perfectly honest, it's a relief: physical changes are almost always hard on Julien, and this memory will likely be easier to deal with.

He watches Julien with concern, waiting for Julien to come back to the present. When he does, Aaron will speak. "That pulse -- did it give you a memory?"

This one isn't just familiar, it leads in to the last one!

"I know how that goes!" Julien says faintly, mouth open and unmoving. "You don't need to - I've already-" His pupils stabilize, large but not all-encompassing. Human-style he looks up, and blinks twice and leaves the inner lids closed on the second pass, startled to find Aaron right there.

He can still feel his heart galloping and swallows hard. "I - yeah. It keeps happening, I - okay he or the universe or whatever is trying to tell me something, by this point, but I don't... I don't want.."

"...It doesn't matter what I want," he finishes quietly.

Satisfied that, for the moment, Julien wasn't about to keel over or sprout wings, Aaron relaxes a little, but doesn't let go of Julien's shoulders yet.

"You're making very little sense, Julien," he says, slowly and calmly. "Now, take a deep breath, and start again." Figure out what you actually want to say, then say it.

Julien obeys, his eyes half closing. His breath is steady, as always.

No one can ever be replaced, the Apostle said. Don’t let your fears for tomorrow cloud the memories you’re making today. No matter how hard you try to prevent change, it will still come.

I have to be more clear or I'll lose him. Julien's eyes widen again, pupils wide. He licks his lips.

"Sir... Strider, I... care about you." Heat is rising in his face because of course it is, he's not allowed dignity. "More than I care about most people. It's- And I feel like you care about me, too." That is in a bit more of a mutter. It seems presumptuous, but it's not like he can skip it.

"So, when you stopped, it... was worse than I thought it would be. I- I need you, sir, and I didn't know it." Julien stops and tucks his chin against his chest, hiding his face. Why can't he keep his eyes from burning! -Why did he say it like that, where it could be interpreted so wrong!

He cares a lot about people. And he does need them, a lot. But this is different somehow.

Edited 2013-09-22 21:35 (UTC)

"I didn't stop."

There are a lot of things he could say, a lot of things he wants to say, but this is the one that comes out. After losing his memories and then coming back, Aaron had resolved to be more open -- to tell people what they meant to him, to allow himself time to spend with them, while he could. Here is where he will start, he supposes.

"There's something I've never told you. When I came to Locke City I came alone, throwing myself into the clinic and its work with little regard for anything else. For a long time, you -- and Mordin Solus -- were the closest thing to friends I had, and that was important to me." A pause, for breath, and to choose his next words. "It was less quiet, less lonely, with you around, flighty and unpredictable though you were. Although it might not have been what it is now, I never stopped caring about you, Julien."

And there was one more thing.

"I can't tell you what it meant to me as I was," admits Aaron, "when you called yourself my friend."

Startled, Julien looks up again, eyes dilated and fully open. He doesn't know if he might be able to look at someone's face and tell from it if they're lying, but - no, this is all the truth.

No better friends? None? It's hard for him to imagine. He's known Aaron wouldn't have a lot of friends almost since they met more than a year ago, but... he'd always assumed there was someone. Julien's friendships tend to be shallow and don't last past him moving, but he thrives on the jolt or slow pleasure at hearing from an old pen pal. The day will come, Julien knows, when he can't live like he's been living, when he has to withdraw from non-networked society to keep himself safe. Even then he wants to keep up as much of a correspondence as he can.

How lonely it must be, not to have that.

"I... didn't know." He'd been looking away when he called Aaron his friend, and for the next few seconds, too consumed with guilt and loss to even think about how that had gone later. Too self-centered, he supposes. "I thought - I don't know. I'm sorry," he says in a whisper, not trusting his voice, and now it's not just burning, his eyes are blurred. "I should've trusted you."

Aaron shakes his head. It's no surprise Julien didn't know -- Aaron has been close-lipped about his personal life, his history, his worries and secrets since before he came to Locke.

"What do you plan to do now?" he asks, hands still on Julien's shoulders. "Do you intend to keep shutting me out, or will you stop being so afraid of losing people that you push them away yourself?"

"I -" he keeps starting with that, I, and then having to stop. He takes a moment and wipes his face from his brows down to his chin, restricting the motion a little so it doesn't dislodge Aaron's hands, looking down again as if studying their shoes. "You know, that's what he was just saying. The Apostle. You can't replace people. The only way to keep from losing anyone is to just cut and run and be alone, always."

The Apostle as a life coach. Julien almost-laughs at the idea but he sobers just as fast and looks up again, pupils still dilated, looking from one of Aaron's eyes to the other. "I remembered something when I found out, and I felt like I couldn't go to you about it, and... I just hated that. I just... have to know that you'll be here if... well, things are gonna happen. With the whole mess, with me." Again he almost-laughs, without any amusement this time. "I play like I'm not afraid. But you know I am."

I can't promise that, Aaron thinks, and his heart is heavy.

"I don't know what's going to happen," he says, honestly. "I don't know if I'll always be here. But I will tell you this: you will never find yourself without help, Julien." Aaron truly believes that -- that someone, whether it is him or not, will come to help Julien if he truly needs it. "And I will be here for you, if I can. I want to." Aaron's next words are emphasized, slow and deliberate. "There is nowhere in this world I would rather be than here."

Edited 2013-09-26 15:59 (UTC)

Julien swallows hard and, bracing against the sense that he's transgressing somehow, takes the little step forwards to wrap his arms around Aaron's chest, head turned so that his face is free. Part of him realizes with a tiny start that his shoulders are just a little broader than Aaron's. They're built differently, he is stocky and compact to Aaron's rangy build, but... strange. It wasn't always like this, he's been putting on muscle. So this time, Julien watches his strength.

"I want to say don't leave me again. I know it's not up to you," he manages, voice cracked slightly and as resonant as ever. "I should just grow up and be self-reliant. But I want you here too."

Aaron's arms wrap around Julien in reply. He pulls a deep breath. "Julien," he sighs, "no one is really self-reliant. We all depend on each other, often in more ways than we realize."

He holds Julien for another breath, then lets go. Aaron takes a step back, his hands curling around Julien's upper arms, and he leans in to look at Julien.

"It's all right to be afraid," says Aaron. "Frankly, I'd be concerned if you weren't. But the important thing, Julien, is to not let the fear stop you."

Julien wants to hide behind old sayings, or things the Apostle's said. He doesn't bring either up, for now. Vulnerable, deeply self-conscious about it, he looks up and back and awkwardly rests one of his hands on the outside of Aaron's elbow.

"I know," he murmurs unhappily, to both statements. "I just... I hate that I'm this fragile, and people can tell, and... I can't just bluff it out as well anymore."

Aaron pulls a breath, then lets it out. He doesn't know how much comfort he can really be to Julien -- Aaron has an idea of what's coming, and he isn't looking forward to it. The next few months, he knows, will be hard.

"Who can tell?" he asks. "Who noticed that something was wrong?"

"People," Julien tells him, visibly glancing off to the side. "You, for one. That's pretty much how it went with, with normal people though. I do... fall out with friends sometimes. Usually I guess I don't act any different for more than a few days."

He fidgets a little, not moving enough to try and pull free. "...people on the network, too." Julien is not about to bring up the discussion he'd had with Bakura. "I... Emmanuel was the one who came and picked me up, that time. With the check, I texted you."

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