| Moment of Awesome - Kyle Gibney/Wildchild: In the aftermath of Behold A Pale Horse, two old friends have a serious talk.
“It won’t happen again." Finally, Marius dragged his amber eyes down to look at Kyle. "What would I end up as, that third time?"
"How about next time you just fucking tell someone, okay?" Kyle made deliberate eye contact. "Like, please, man, do I need to be in my feelings here? I will go get some more feelings if I have to. I don't get it, I don't get the relapse thing I don't get the medical stuff, I know, okay but I do get that, like, you can just say 'I think the hunger is back, please tell someone' and I'll tell someone else and never bring it up to you again if that's what it takes, as long as you tell me one time so I can make sure you're not doing this dumbfuck shit again, because I can't lose any more fucking friends. We've got a new Forge, and he's a complete asshole, we've got a new Julio and he's a kid and we've got a new Catseye and she's so fucking weird, and I can't go find a new Marius because there won't be one!"
Even through the fog Kyle's vehemence struck something in him. Marius' eyes widened, just a little, before he slid his gaze away again.
He knew Kyle considered him to be someone worth keeping in his life, and always had. They wouldn't have kept in contact for all these years if not for that. But now, in this moment, Marius couldn't understand why. He looked at the determination on Kyle's face and felt only a great emptiness.
Mate, you think I'm so much more than I am. You all did. But I've never been like the rest of you, however much I wanted to be.
But he could pretend. He owed Kyle that, at least.
"Right," Marius said aloud. "Well, no worries. I feel as if I've caused everyone enough trouble, eh? Consider this a lesson learned."
Kyle shut his eyes very slowly, in defiance of Marius' false even-handed tone. "Uh huh. Yeah, this isn't gonna be that. I had to take classes on this shit, I teach teenagers." He pulled a phone out from the depths of the terrible lime basketball shorts. "This is me texting Terry, and god I hope you like bread because expect she'll be showing up a lot to make it. The catering kitchen's still fucked. Whatever room they put you in, you get a roommate until, I dunno, I decide you're not gonna go toss yourself into a volcano." His voice finally had expression, firm stubbornness and a break as he said aloud the fear he had, that Marius would consider suicide. "We don't have any volcano kinetics here right now, don't get any ideas. You get me, my grading papers at 5am and Shamu sleeping on your butt."
"Eh, sorry?" Marius said, unsure whether he'd parsed the rush of words correctly. "I'm going to . . ?"
"You're going to be living with me until such a time that someone decides you're not actively fucking suicidal." Kyle said, eyes still closed, voice on the verge of a growl. "Which means my girlfriend is going to show up at all hours to make food, because that's what she does, and you're going to tolerate my cat who probably is going to sleep on you because he loves everyone more than me."
"I wouldn’t hurt myself," Marius protested, although even he could perceive the frisson at the end of the sentence that implied an unspoken 'here'. He shook his head dismissively. "Look, I appreciate the concern, but this isn't necessary. It's just . . . it's hitting me all at once right now, all right? Once my head's straight again she’ll be right. I'm adaptable. It's one of my few redeeming features."
"I don't believe you." Kyle said. "My ears still work, you were all 'what would I end up as the third time', and you're assuming it'll happen and assuming the platelets are fucked, and man, of everyone I'd think you know I'm not as dumb as I pretend. I'm the... " He cut himself off. "It doesn't matter, you get a suitemate for a while. If nothing else, it means if your platelets are fucked, you're safe. Consider me the emergency parachute."
Marius opened his mouth, then shut it. Finally he met Kyle's gaze, and held it.
"Never in my life have I thought of you as dumb," he said.
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