[Oh, good, he's there, what a relief— a bigger sense of relief than Junpei had expected, honestly, especially given how wound up he's gotten himself over these past two days. But Charles is there, and apparently even has downtime to text him, and to make little quips about horses? All good signs, and Junpei sinks down into the couch where he's flopped gracelessly on it, eyes glued to the tablet so he couldn't possibly miss a single message.]
didn't know you even knew how to ride a horse. i don't.
[At the back of his mind he doesn't want to talk about horses at all, he wants to dump every feeling he has for Charles into this text box and send it, he wants Charles' next message to suddenly be "oh hey we're done early, be back soon!"
But, well, that's not happening, and since not knowing every detail is killing him but knowing every detail would make him worse— horse chatter is what they've got.]
[ meanwhile, charles withdraws from the rest of his team, leaving the spiders and shinji to chat while he finds a large enough rock to perch on. ]
yeah, my uncle - mum's brother - he owned some, back in india. we went to visit a few times when i was a kid and he taught me
[ and this — this is normal enough that he can almost fool himself into thinking this is any other day, and they're just spending the time talking about nothing in particular. and if he thinks about it like that it's easier; because if he really lets himself think of everything, well, there's so many other things he'd rather be saying... but just as he hadn't said them before leaving, for a good reason, it's not like the reason has changed in the last two days. ]
brownie. and if you think, oh, it's probably brown, you'd be wrong. it's actually grey. whoever named it has a weird sense of humour
yeah? that's cool. i'd say you should teach me, but since it sucks, i dunno.
[Anyway. This is a normal conversation with absolutely no AI terminal elephants in the room. Talking to Charles has always made Junpei feel better about whatever's been happening, and this - even if the thing happening directly involves Charles - is no exception. And tiny Charles on a horse probably was really cute, too - a worthwhile distraction to think about.]
what would they name a grey horse that involves being grey? dryer lint? my noble steed, dust bunny?
hey, you never know. maybe you'd like it. and if i'm teaching you i don't have to ride, so
[ so it's a win all around, really. and besides, thinking about it is — nice, something beyond the immediate future, something that implies there is a normal future after whatever happens with the terminals... and just that alone makes him feel tremendously better. ]
well, actually, dust bunny's a pretty cute name, innit? i could name a horse that.
we can find one of those smaller ones for you. or a pony
[ read: you're tiny, actually. but that's cute, so it's all fine. and shh, they're very much not thinking about what's happening after the next few days... ]
well, yeah? i mean, maybe it's not the name for a noble steed or whatever, but if i had to have a horse, reckon i'd rather have one that's old and lazy and dust bunny's perfect for that
[ 'i'll get you whatever you want' is what he writes, first, and then just backspaces it away. ]
why not?
[ "because the world might not exist in a day's time or so" is not an acceptable answer. he is very much ignoring that. because there will be a world and he will be able to teach junpei to ride. ]
yeah, it'll be too old and lazy to even bother. you'll have a nice and easy time.
[The world really might just end, and he might not be all that excited about learning to ride a horse, but sure, it sounds great. If Charles wants to literally get him a pony, he will... look up how to take care of it.]
gab's fine. [...] he misses you.
[....yeah, maybe he is this embarrassing,] so do i.
[ he's — not entirely sure what he expected as an answer, but what he gets leaves him staring at the tablet with an expression that's as much longing as it is tender. ]
i miss you, too.
[ is it embarrassing? not really, not to him, not when it's simply something that's a fact of his continued existence, now — that any time they're not together, he's going to miss junpei. of course he will. of course he does. ]
shouldn't be too long, now. maybe a day or so. there's still some stuff to do, but
[ but! he's not talking about what it is, or any details... but he hopes once they actually get going with the plan, it won't take too long. ]
[Ah, give him a moment to stare at that first message for a bit. Not that it's a surprise, but give him a moment to savor it. The second one not so much...]
oh. that's good. so i'll see you soon then.
[This is a nice conversation about horses and so on, but he can't pretend the whole time that he hasn't been thinking about this the whole time.]
[For his part, Junpei does feel kind of embarrassed about this - the way Charles is comforting him, like he can't handle himself - but he appreciates it too much to put stock into that. Mmph...]
yeah, that's what i'm doing.
[Not like he has a choice, all things considered. At least he has this to de-stress-]
[ and maybe that's too earnest of a response — but he can't answer any differently, not when the last thing he wants in the world is to keep junpei waiting at all. though the idea that he is waiting for him specifically, actually, that's... well. that's something that makes him feel the kind of way he might if he still was capable of feeling his whole face flush red, all the while making his heart feel stupidly light.
but then the others are signaling that it's time to go, and he needs to cut this short. ]
i gotta go now, but i'll see you soon. give gab a hug for me.
[ and then he pockets his tablet... and is promptly unable to check it for the next day or so, what with everything in ketsora going to hell in a handbasket real fast, an iron-tipped arrow burrowed into his side until jinx saves him for the second time — and the beach isn't much better, with a dead girl on the ground and scott on actual fire and then his time going to tinkering with the terminal —
well. all this to say, he doesn't take much time to actually rest, nor recover, and by the time the terminal is back-upped and the reset performed, his side is aching very badly; not that that's enough to deter him from setting up the mirror, saying bye to the others and then quite simply stepping through it and emerging from the mirror in junpei's house.
and he intends to say something, to announce that he's back — but the relief of it all being over crashes over him instantly, and though his all-black clothes hide the wound and the blood on his side well enough, he's not taken a moment of rest since being hurt badly enough to incapacitate him completely... so it's perhaps no wonder all he manages is to stagger forward a few steps, dropping his backpack onto the floor with a clattering sound.
he did make it back, though, right? he kept his promise. that's what matters. ]
[And that's that, and Junpei would be lying if he said he wasn't expecting another message before seeing Charles again, all things considered. Another message would be enough to reassure him that everything went fine, even if it was more horse nonsense - especially if it was more horse nonsense. But there isn't one, and every so often he checks just in case he didn't hear the notification come, and every time he frowns and lingers over i'd never with a little more worry coiling around his chest.
It's probably fine. It has to be fine, right? The world hasn't dissolved or anything around him in the meantime, so it has to be okay.
He tells himself that and he pretends he believes it, and he's checking the tablet so incessantly that the clattering from the other side of the house, where the mirror is, makes him jump. That is a non-standard Charles entrance if he's ever heard one, so he's up and moving in the next heartbeat, quite literally sliding into view in his socks like a very stressed out Risky Business redux—]
Charles— Whoa, what happened? Are you okay? [He can't see anything immediately grievously wrong, but boy, does Charles look rough-] Holy shit, come here.
[—to lean on his shoulder, specifically, before he drops like Junpei is a little worried he might.]
[ he's right to worry, because charles feels like he might collapse now that he no longer has to keep himself functional with nothing but his sheer force of will — if he was human that'd never work, but for ghosts, intent is what matters, and he's long since learned how to push himself to the limit when necessary.
and yet, when his eyes land on junpei, he breaks into a smile like every single thing that's wrong in the world has suddenly been made right. ] Junpei.
[ that's all he says, for a few moments, just his name paired with that look of undisguised affection and relief. ]
I'm — [ he does as instructed, leaning his weight on junpei and intending to reassure him that he's doing fine, really, except the movement has him wincing as he presses his hand against his side. ]
It wasn't, [ it wasn't my fault, except let him take a breath, ] I tried, yeah? I promise I tried. But they had iron arrows. It could... have been worse.
[ it very nearly was worse, so much worse, but he doesn't intend to ever let junpei know just how close of a call it was. ]
[Oh, and that look could break his heart, the way it comes at the same time as all the rest. It still twists something warm in him, despite the state of Charles; Junpei wants to wrap that smile up and keep it in his back pocket for a rainy day, but - right now—]
Who the fuck is they? [he says, first, because they both so carefully avoided the details of where Charles was going, it didn't even occur to Junpei that there would be armed foes out there. Then,] —Shut up for a second and come on.
[They're going to move, and he keeps an eye on Charles the whole time in case he's flinching too much to go on, but the goal is to get to his bedroom and get Charles laid down there, instead of crowded up on the too-small couch. Junpei will hear all of his I trieds and could have been worses again in a minute or so, when he's satisfied that Charles isn't going to, to, to pass out on him, or something? He doesn't know how to do first aid very well in the first place, let alone on a ghost.
So it's off to the bed, a short walk luckily in his little house, and he murmurs a handful of come ons and let's gos on the way, mostly so Charles doesn't feel like he has to keep filling the air with his apologies. He's here, he's back, that is enough for Junpei right now.
Gab is on the bed; the dog perks up and then whines at the sight of Charles, coming over to snuffle at him when he's settled. Junpei lingers at the side of the bed, torn between the crashing wave of relief that Charles is back and the nearly physical itch to go find a first aid kit and ghost-ify it somehow? He'd figure it out?? Ack.]
What do I-? What do you need? You've been grabbing your side this whole time, so no bullshit.
The Ketsorans, [ he answers, and would elaborate but then junpei is telling him to shut up, presumably so they can relocate to somewhere that isn't where they're standing right now, and charles nods, glancing at junpei as they walk, expression soft and grateful, not just for the help but for the little things he keeps saying, filling in the silence so he can focus on simply moving his feet.
when they get to the bedroom, charles smiles again at the sight of gab, muttering a quiet sorry and reaching his hand out for him to sniff before giving him a few scritches.
but then he realises his hand is needed elsewhere; namely, the second he thinks junpei might try and leave, even if it's with good intentions, he can't help but extend his hand so he can take junpei's in his, hold him there with a little tug towards the bed. ]
You, [ he says then, quiet and honest, as much an answer as it is the start to a sentence, ] You can't... do anything. The arrow's out, the wound just needs to heal, it'll do that on its own as long as I —
[ he tries to shrug, but the movement has him grimacing again, and he doesn't finish the sentence, but it's pretty obvious he means he just needs rest.
and so he says, with his eyes large and pleading, ]
[The who the fuck, Junpei thinks, and then wonders if maybe he shouldn't have checked up on the local lore a bit sooner. That can wait until later though, because he doesn't care one whit who the Ketsorans are unless they come knocking on his door.
Then Charles has his hand, and he says you and Junpei's heart flips, and then you can't do anything and it flips back the other way, just to keep him grounded, he supposes. That's another what the fuck, in his opinion, because whoever invented the rules for spectral first aid is a real prick— Junpei makes a face, frustrated at his own inability to do anything, to speed this process along, and squeezes Charles' hand.]
Okay, I'm not. [Don't give him that look, his heart's going to burst, it'll be really embarrassing-] Just - scoot over, then you don't have to move anymore, I promise.
[Do scoot though, so he can claim a corner of the bed to sit on, settling cross-legged and after a split-second decision, giving his own leg a significant pat. Come here, rest, ghost-nap, whatever works. He's staying. Now that they're together again he feels much less frayed than he has for the past few days - chalk it up to his, hm, unique experiences, but he's much better at handling a crisis with the right company.
Not that everything is as it should be... His gaze drifts to the spot Charles had been holding later, the wound he can't quite see, and he frowns. More than anything he's grateful Charles made it back at all, but he's going to wonder, so,]
[ once again, he simply does as told, scooting a tad awkwardly as he tries to not jostle his side too much, relaxing a little as junpei sits down and he doesn't have to fear him just — leaving, for whatever reason. that is why, as junpei pats his leg in the universal sign of come here, his first thought is good, then he can't get up without me knowing, and he moves without really thinking anything more, lifts his head obligingly and rests it against his leg. only then does the reality of the situation set in, and he thinks, oh, and bites down a stupidly pleased little smile. he doesn't quite manage it, but some of it is lost in an exhale as he lets himself settle, feeling far more calm and whole than he has in the past days altogether.
with another slow exhale, he lets his overcoat flicker out of existence, then his bomber jacket, leaving him in just the black polo shirt — and without the extra fabric covering them up, the tears in his shirt are more visible, the stains that can only be dried blood, with the jagged edges of an arrow wound blackened, almost burnt-looking, peeking from underneath. ]
Took an iron-tipped arrow to the side, [ comes his answer, a little self-deprecating and succinct. ]
Ketsora's a fortress. Like, walls and archers on top and all that, and they're not keen on outsiders, yeah? So we had to [ he pauses, swallows, ] create a distraction. They weren't supposed to have anything that could hit me.
[ and, well, here's the result. and because he knows, he knows what this sounds like, ] We had to let the younger Peter and Gwen sneak in, they were the experts on this whole reset thing, and Shinji's the only one who'd been there before, so he showed them the way in. The older Peter and I stayed behind. And he — he took far worse hits so I wouldn't, so. [ so!! him getting hurt was an accident, and then peter actually ensured he wasn't hurt any worse. which he feels terrible about but it's fine!
anyway, ] And then the portal threw me at the beach, a lot of shit had gone down there when I got there, and I ended up helping with the terminal... [ hence the lack of a message. and no, he's not explicitly saying he never once stopped to rest or take care of his wound or do anything about it at all, but he's also not not saying that. ]
I came as soon as we were done. [ a pause. ] Sorry it took me this long.
[Junpei learns a lot of things at once: about the Ketsorans, about two Peters which is apparently significant (did he even know there was one Peter? he can't remember), about the seemingly capricious nature of these weird portals everyone's been jumping in, wow, glad he didn't go anywhere—
But all of that is set dressing, really. All of that is good to know, and he is listening and will remember, but all of that is secondary to what happened to Charles. Junpei waits until he's settled, shed layers and all, before running his fingers through Charles' hair the same way Charles has done for him plenty of times, repetitive, comforting (he hopes). But his gaze lingers on the torn shirt and the glimpse of the wound beneath, and he swallows around the bitter taste of you can't do anything a second time.]
Hey, come on, don't do that, [he says, soft and low,] You made it back.
[Junpei sat around for a few days doing nothing! He's fine! Charles doesn't owe him this apology, or any apology, except maybe for the things he isn't saying in the middle there— throwing himself into danger, not taking care of himself... Make no mistake: Junpei continues to find these behaviors upsetting, hypocrite that he is, but is he going to yell and scold about it? No, of course not.
(And that, of course, is because he's a hypocrite about this; he's been there, he's done this, and it has never once made him feel better to be told he fucked up real bad, period, no discussion. So, no, he's not going to scold.)
And, alright, maybe he should ask something about the terminal, the fate of the world, the others who were there— but, well! That's still secondary, admittedly. He spends a quiet moment carding his fingers through Charles' hair in silence, considering, then just as soft and quiet,]
Think you can make me another promise? Take better care of yourself, next time...? I'll promise too.
[ it is with a soft hum that he tilts his head into the touch, closing his eyes for a moment, to focus on nothing else but the sensation of the hand in his hair, in the way he can feel it. and it is because of that focus that he says, almost absently, ] I almost didn't.
[ and then he blinks his eyes open, sharp and sudden, because shit, he didn't mean to say that — but he did, and he can't take it back, so he hastens to add, ] But then Jinx showed up. I owe her twice over, now. [ she'd been there for him when he was reliving his death, and then now prevented him from experiencing an entirely new one.
in the end, maybe it doesn't matter, what could have happened; not when it didn't, not when he's here, now. he did make it back, and he has no intentions of leaving again. with a sigh, he lets his eyes fall closed for a second, two, three, before junpei's voice makes him open them again and tilt his head so he can gaze at him, the look he gives him soft and tender in the way he only ever directs at junpei and no one else. ]
... Yeah. Yeah, I promise. [ a moment passes where he simply keeps looking at junpei, and then, ]
But next time, I won't leave you. Either we both stay, or we both go, yeah? Cause I don't ever wanna do this again. [ 'this' meaning 'be apart for days at a time'. ]
[Charles, jesus. Junpei can't resist, flat and more than a little wry:] Wow.
[Coupled with a raised eyebrow as if to say, see, that's why they have to make this promise. Self-preservation is too difficult, too often, therefore... Well, this. He shakes his head lightly.]
Maybe I'll send her a gift basket or something. You think she likes fruit?
[Levity, but he'll at least thank her, when things blow over. When it's settled and Charles doesn't have a burn-festering arrow puncture in his side, then Junpei can think about reaching out to, hm, anyone else.
...And here he goes, agreeing to play the hero again (at least, to the option, which counts), but for Charles? It's not even a question.]
Yeah. Neither do I. Wouldn't say no to less bullshit happening around here, but... yeah, it's you and me.
[He holds up his other hand— it's pinky promise time again, which will shift into simply holding Charles' hand afterwards. Of course.]
So, uh... [He falters, the dozen or so things he wants to say all clamoring and tripping over each other, buoyed further by the high of Charles being back and safe and looking at him like that, jeez... So, he manages, clearing his throat,] How long does this healing thing take?
[ he at least has the good grace to look sheepish and apologetic at once, and yeah — maybe they do need the promise. and more than that, maybe he's incredibly, stupidly lucky that junpei gets it; does he wish he didn't, because it'd mean he wouldn't do the same? well, yes, of course. but he can't help but be grateful nonetheless, that junpei speaks of this not with anger but understanding... and a little wryness and a pointed look, well, he's definitely owed as much. ]
Think she might. [ truthfully, jinx seems more like a sweets person to him, but that's not really the point here.
the point, it turns out, is junpei saying it's you and me and holding out his pinky for another promise and charles — fucking hell, charles loves him so much his heart might just burst, so much it actually hurts more than the bloody arrow wound, and once the promise is made and their hands are simply holding onto each other again, he looks at them instead of at junpei because he knows that if he doesn't distract himself, somehow, he's going to go and discard every good reason he's thought of to not speak of his feelings at all and pour them all out, reach into his chest and drop his spectral heart into junpei's hands.
he exhales, once, very carefully. okay, he can — he can do this. he can be normal about this, can't he? and talking about ghost healing, yeah, that's a nice distraction. ]
Oh, uh, not too long? It started healing the second the iron was out, but I need to, you know, have a good and proper rest for it to work. So it's been pretty slow until now, but I reckon a few hours and I'll be able to move round without it hurting.
[Thanks, he is owed this significant look, yes— He hums, acknowledging; Jinx being there for Charles means a lot to him, so - yeah, he'll remember to say something, at least. He can just ask her if she likes fruits directly, thank-you gift baskets don't have to be a surprise—
But, right, holding Charles' hand and fretting over his literal arrow wound, he's focused on that. He makes a face at "the second the iron was out," because just the look of the wound that he can see through that hole in the shirt is rough already, and the mental image is... ugh. Unsettling.]
Okay. Yeah, sounds good. I'm not going anywhere, so...
[He shrugs; Charles is literally lying in his lap, so obviously he's not going anywhere, but now that a few hours are on the table it feels like it's good to confirm. The next impasse, of course, is how badly he wants to talk to Charles to make up for the past few days, and on another level, to slide right down there and hold him close, but the healing process-!!]
Do you need to, I dunno... pretend to sleep? I don't want to mess it up by running my mouth, or anything.
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didn't know you even knew how to ride a horse. i don't.
[At the back of his mind he doesn't want to talk about horses at all, he wants to dump every feeling he has for Charles into this text box and send it, he wants Charles' next message to suddenly be "oh hey we're done early, be back soon!"
But, well, that's not happening, and since not knowing every detail is killing him but knowing every detail would make him worse— horse chatter is what they've got.]
what's the horse's name?
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yeah, my uncle - mum's brother - he owned some, back in india. we went to visit a few times when i was a kid and he taught me
[ and this — this is normal enough that he can almost fool himself into thinking this is any other day, and they're just spending the time talking about nothing in particular. and if he thinks about it like that it's easier; because if he really lets himself think of everything, well, there's so many other things he'd rather be saying... but just as he hadn't said them before leaving, for a good reason, it's not like the reason has changed in the last two days. ]
brownie. and if you think, oh, it's probably brown, you'd be wrong. it's actually grey. whoever named it has a weird sense of humour
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[Anyway. This is a normal conversation with absolutely no AI terminal elephants in the room. Talking to Charles has always made Junpei feel better about whatever's been happening, and this - even if the thing happening directly involves Charles - is no exception. And tiny Charles on a horse probably was really cute, too - a worthwhile distraction to think about.]
what would they name a grey horse that involves being grey? dryer lint? my noble steed, dust bunny?
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[ so it's a win all around, really. and besides, thinking about it is — nice, something beyond the immediate future, something that implies there is a normal future after whatever happens with the terminals... and just that alone makes him feel tremendously better. ]
well, actually, dust bunny's a pretty cute name, innit? i could name a horse that.
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[Catch him, make it swoon-worthy... First they'd have to get a horse, though, if horses even exist after whatever happens in the next few days.]
what, really?
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[ read: you're tiny, actually. but that's cute, so it's all fine. and shh, they're very much not thinking about what's happening after the next few days... ]
well, yeah? i mean, maybe it's not the name for a noble steed or whatever, but if i had to have a horse, reckon i'd rather have one that's old and lazy and dust bunny's perfect for that
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[Fancy... Add this to his list of perks of being short, which mostly is just specifically: being shorter than Charles—]
so you mean gab, but a horse. i get it. maybe dust bunny's the one horse that won't throw me off.
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why not?
[ "because the world might not exist in a day's time or so" is not an acceptable answer. he is very much ignoring that. because there will be a world and he will be able to teach junpei to ride. ]
yeah, it'll be too old and lazy to even bother. you'll have a nice and easy time.
how's gab?
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[The world really might just end, and he might not be all that excited about learning to ride a horse, but sure, it sounds great. If Charles wants to literally get him a pony, he will... look up how to take care of it.]
gab's fine. [...] he misses you.
[....yeah, maybe he is this embarrassing,] so do i.
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i miss you, too.
[ is it embarrassing? not really, not to him, not when it's simply something that's a fact of his continued existence, now — that any time they're not together, he's going to miss junpei. of course he will. of course he does. ]
shouldn't be too long, now. maybe a day or so. there's still some stuff to do, but
[ but! he's not talking about what it is, or any details... but he hopes once they actually get going with the plan, it won't take too long. ]
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oh. that's good. so i'll see you soon then.
[This is a nice conversation about horses and so on, but he can't pretend the whole time that he hasn't been thinking about this the whole time.]
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yeah, that's the plan. been long enough, already.
[ frankly, he's not eager to have a repeat of this, oh, ever — this being them having to be apart for this long, specifically. ]
just... wait a bit longer, yeah?
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yeah, that's what i'm doing.
[Not like he has a choice, all things considered. At least he has this to de-stress-]
don't keep me waiting too long.
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[ and maybe that's too earnest of a response — but he can't answer any differently, not when the last thing he wants in the world is to keep junpei waiting at all. though the idea that he is waiting for him specifically, actually, that's... well. that's something that makes him feel the kind of way he might if he still was capable of feeling his whole face flush red, all the while making his heart feel stupidly light.
but then the others are signaling that it's time to go, and he needs to cut this short. ]
i gotta go now, but i'll see you soon. give gab a hug for me.
[ and then he pockets his tablet... and is promptly unable to check it for the next day or so, what with everything in ketsora going to hell in a handbasket real fast, an iron-tipped arrow burrowed into his side until jinx saves him for the second time — and the beach isn't much better, with a dead girl on the ground and scott on actual fire and then his time going to tinkering with the terminal —
well. all this to say, he doesn't take much time to actually rest, nor recover, and by the time the terminal is back-upped and the reset performed, his side is aching very badly; not that that's enough to deter him from setting up the mirror, saying bye to the others and then quite simply stepping through it and emerging from the mirror in junpei's house.
and he intends to say something, to announce that he's back — but the relief of it all being over crashes over him instantly, and though his all-black clothes hide the wound and the blood on his side well enough, he's not taken a moment of rest since being hurt badly enough to incapacitate him completely... so it's perhaps no wonder all he manages is to stagger forward a few steps, dropping his backpack onto the floor with a clattering sound.
he did make it back, though, right? he kept his promise. that's what matters. ]
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[And that's that, and Junpei would be lying if he said he wasn't expecting another message before seeing Charles again, all things considered. Another message would be enough to reassure him that everything went fine, even if it was more horse nonsense - especially if it was more horse nonsense. But there isn't one, and every so often he checks just in case he didn't hear the notification come, and every time he frowns and lingers over i'd never with a little more worry coiling around his chest.
It's probably fine. It has to be fine, right? The world hasn't dissolved or anything around him in the meantime, so it has to be okay.
He tells himself that and he pretends he believes it, and he's checking the tablet so incessantly that the clattering from the other side of the house, where the mirror is, makes him jump. That is a non-standard Charles entrance if he's ever heard one, so he's up and moving in the next heartbeat, quite literally sliding into view in his socks like a very stressed out Risky Business redux—]
Charles— Whoa, what happened? Are you okay? [He can't see anything immediately grievously wrong, but boy, does Charles look rough-] Holy shit, come here.
[—to lean on his shoulder, specifically, before he drops like Junpei is a little worried he might.]
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and yet, when his eyes land on junpei, he breaks into a smile like every single thing that's wrong in the world has suddenly been made right. ] Junpei.
[ that's all he says, for a few moments, just his name paired with that look of undisguised affection and relief. ]
I'm — [ he does as instructed, leaning his weight on junpei and intending to reassure him that he's doing fine, really, except the movement has him wincing as he presses his hand against his side. ]
It wasn't, [ it wasn't my fault, except let him take a breath, ] I tried, yeah? I promise I tried. But they had iron arrows. It could... have been worse.
[ it very nearly was worse, so much worse, but he doesn't intend to ever let junpei know just how close of a call it was. ]
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Who the fuck is they? [he says, first, because they both so carefully avoided the details of where Charles was going, it didn't even occur to Junpei that there would be armed foes out there. Then,] —Shut up for a second and come on.
[They're going to move, and he keeps an eye on Charles the whole time in case he's flinching too much to go on, but the goal is to get to his bedroom and get Charles laid down there, instead of crowded up on the too-small couch. Junpei will hear all of his I trieds and could have been worses again in a minute or so, when he's satisfied that Charles isn't going to, to, to pass out on him, or something? He doesn't know how to do first aid very well in the first place, let alone on a ghost.
So it's off to the bed, a short walk luckily in his little house, and he murmurs a handful of come ons and let's gos on the way, mostly so Charles doesn't feel like he has to keep filling the air with his apologies. He's here, he's back, that is enough for Junpei right now.
Gab is on the bed; the dog perks up and then whines at the sight of Charles, coming over to snuffle at him when he's settled. Junpei lingers at the side of the bed, torn between the crashing wave of relief that Charles is back and the nearly physical itch to go find a first aid kit and ghost-ify it somehow? He'd figure it out?? Ack.]
What do I-? What do you need? You've been grabbing your side this whole time, so no bullshit.
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when they get to the bedroom, charles smiles again at the sight of gab, muttering a quiet sorry and reaching his hand out for him to sniff before giving him a few scritches.
but then he realises his hand is needed elsewhere; namely, the second he thinks junpei might try and leave, even if it's with good intentions, he can't help but extend his hand so he can take junpei's in his, hold him there with a little tug towards the bed. ]
You, [ he says then, quiet and honest, as much an answer as it is the start to a sentence, ] You can't... do anything. The arrow's out, the wound just needs to heal, it'll do that on its own as long as I —
[ he tries to shrug, but the movement has him grimacing again, and he doesn't finish the sentence, but it's pretty obvious he means he just needs rest.
and so he says, with his eyes large and pleading, ]
Stay. Don't go anywhere.
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Then Charles has his hand, and he says you and Junpei's heart flips, and then you can't do anything and it flips back the other way, just to keep him grounded, he supposes. That's another what the fuck, in his opinion, because whoever invented the rules for spectral first aid is a real prick— Junpei makes a face, frustrated at his own inability to do anything, to speed this process along, and squeezes Charles' hand.]
Okay, I'm not. [Don't give him that look, his heart's going to burst, it'll be really embarrassing-] Just - scoot over, then you don't have to move anymore, I promise.
[Do scoot though, so he can claim a corner of the bed to sit on, settling cross-legged and after a split-second decision, giving his own leg a significant pat. Come here, rest, ghost-nap, whatever works. He's staying. Now that they're together again he feels much less frayed than he has for the past few days - chalk it up to his, hm, unique experiences, but he's much better at handling a crisis with the right company.
Not that everything is as it should be... His gaze drifts to the spot Charles had been holding later, the wound he can't quite see, and he frowns. More than anything he's grateful Charles made it back at all, but he's going to wonder, so,]
You wanna tell me what happened, or...?
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with another slow exhale, he lets his overcoat flicker out of existence, then his bomber jacket, leaving him in just the black polo shirt — and without the extra fabric covering them up, the tears in his shirt are more visible, the stains that can only be dried blood, with the jagged edges of an arrow wound blackened, almost burnt-looking, peeking from underneath. ]
Took an iron-tipped arrow to the side, [ comes his answer, a little self-deprecating and succinct. ]
Ketsora's a fortress. Like, walls and archers on top and all that, and they're not keen on outsiders, yeah? So we had to [ he pauses, swallows, ] create a distraction. They weren't supposed to have anything that could hit me.
[ and, well, here's the result. and because he knows, he knows what this sounds like, ] We had to let the younger Peter and Gwen sneak in, they were the experts on this whole reset thing, and Shinji's the only one who'd been there before, so he showed them the way in. The older Peter and I stayed behind. And he — he took far worse hits so I wouldn't, so. [ so!! him getting hurt was an accident, and then peter actually ensured he wasn't hurt any worse. which he feels terrible about but it's fine!
anyway, ] And then the portal threw me at the beach, a lot of shit had gone down there when I got there, and I ended up helping with the terminal... [ hence the lack of a message. and no, he's not explicitly saying he never once stopped to rest or take care of his wound or do anything about it at all, but he's also not not saying that. ]
I came as soon as we were done. [ a pause. ] Sorry it took me this long.
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But all of that is set dressing, really. All of that is good to know, and he is listening and will remember, but all of that is secondary to what happened to Charles. Junpei waits until he's settled, shed layers and all, before running his fingers through Charles' hair the same way Charles has done for him plenty of times, repetitive, comforting (he hopes). But his gaze lingers on the torn shirt and the glimpse of the wound beneath, and he swallows around the bitter taste of you can't do anything a second time.]
Hey, come on, don't do that, [he says, soft and low,] You made it back.
[Junpei sat around for a few days doing nothing! He's fine! Charles doesn't owe him this apology, or any apology, except maybe for the things he isn't saying in the middle there— throwing himself into danger, not taking care of himself... Make no mistake: Junpei continues to find these behaviors upsetting, hypocrite that he is, but is he going to yell and scold about it? No, of course not.
(And that, of course, is because he's a hypocrite about this; he's been there, he's done this, and it has never once made him feel better to be told he fucked up real bad, period, no discussion. So, no, he's not going to scold.)
And, alright, maybe he should ask something about the terminal, the fate of the world, the others who were there— but, well! That's still secondary, admittedly. He spends a quiet moment carding his fingers through Charles' hair in silence, considering, then just as soft and quiet,]
Think you can make me another promise? Take better care of yourself, next time...? I'll promise too.
[He can't stay home and sulk every time—]
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[ and then he blinks his eyes open, sharp and sudden, because shit, he didn't mean to say that — but he did, and he can't take it back, so he hastens to add, ] But then Jinx showed up. I owe her twice over, now. [ she'd been there for him when he was reliving his death, and then now prevented him from experiencing an entirely new one.
in the end, maybe it doesn't matter, what could have happened; not when it didn't, not when he's here, now. he did make it back, and he has no intentions of leaving again. with a sigh, he lets his eyes fall closed for a second, two, three, before junpei's voice makes him open them again and tilt his head so he can gaze at him, the look he gives him soft and tender in the way he only ever directs at junpei and no one else. ]
... Yeah. Yeah, I promise. [ a moment passes where he simply keeps looking at junpei, and then, ]
But next time, I won't leave you. Either we both stay, or we both go, yeah? Cause I don't ever wanna do this again. [ 'this' meaning 'be apart for days at a time'. ]
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[Coupled with a raised eyebrow as if to say, see, that's why they have to make this promise. Self-preservation is too difficult, too often, therefore... Well, this. He shakes his head lightly.]
Maybe I'll send her a gift basket or something. You think she likes fruit?
[Levity, but he'll at least thank her, when things blow over. When it's settled and Charles doesn't have a burn-festering arrow puncture in his side, then Junpei can think about reaching out to, hm, anyone else.
...And here he goes, agreeing to play the hero again (at least, to the option, which counts), but for Charles? It's not even a question.]
Yeah. Neither do I. Wouldn't say no to less bullshit happening around here, but... yeah, it's you and me.
[He holds up his other hand— it's pinky promise time again, which will shift into simply holding Charles' hand afterwards. Of course.]
So, uh... [He falters, the dozen or so things he wants to say all clamoring and tripping over each other, buoyed further by the high of Charles being back and safe and looking at him like that, jeez... So, he manages, clearing his throat,] How long does this healing thing take?
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Think she might. [ truthfully, jinx seems more like a sweets person to him, but that's not really the point here.
the point, it turns out, is junpei saying it's you and me and holding out his pinky for another promise and charles — fucking hell, charles loves him so much his heart might just burst, so much it actually hurts more than the bloody arrow wound, and once the promise is made and their hands are simply holding onto each other again, he looks at them instead of at junpei because he knows that if he doesn't distract himself, somehow, he's going to go and discard every good reason he's thought of to not speak of his feelings at all and pour them all out, reach into his chest and drop his spectral heart into junpei's hands.
he exhales, once, very carefully. okay, he can — he can do this. he can be normal about this, can't he? and talking about ghost healing, yeah, that's a nice distraction. ]
Oh, uh, not too long? It started healing the second the iron was out, but I need to, you know, have a good and proper rest for it to work. So it's been pretty slow until now, but I reckon a few hours and I'll be able to move round without it hurting.
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But, right, holding Charles' hand and fretting over his literal arrow wound, he's focused on that. He makes a face at "the second the iron was out," because just the look of the wound that he can see through that hole in the shirt is rough already, and the mental image is... ugh. Unsettling.]
Okay. Yeah, sounds good. I'm not going anywhere, so...
[He shrugs; Charles is literally lying in his lap, so obviously he's not going anywhere, but now that a few hours are on the table it feels like it's good to confirm. The next impasse, of course, is how badly he wants to talk to Charles to make up for the past few days, and on another level, to slide right down there and hold him close, but the healing process-!!]
Do you need to, I dunno... pretend to sleep? I don't want to mess it up by running my mouth, or anything.
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