[In another life, they never went with Expedition 33. Instead, they went with everyone else to the harbor, and said their slow, painful goodbyes, just as he did with Sophie. Maelle doesn't think she could do that. The days leading up to his last day would be agony. A death march. She would be sick with grief and he wouldn't even be gone yet and she would cry and cry and never stop despite knowing for so long that the Gommage was coming.
It would hurt like this does. Losing him would always shatter her heart in a way that could never be put right. Like the Gestrals, she thinks--they can return, but not completely. Not as they were before.
They never had enough time. He could be like Verso, immortal, and a century would never be enough for her.]
Then we don't say it, because we'll see each other again.
[ Maybe he should insist on it, a farewell. How can she move forward when she's still looking for him everywhere she goes? When she's waiting to see him again? He should tell her she needs to let go.
He's always been just a little bit too selfish for that. ]
Okay.
[ He runs his thumb lightly over her cheek again, nodding. ]
We won't say goodbye.
[ His smile tugs, almost into a real curve, before it trun rueful once more. ]
[It's said with her own wry smile. She's very much still sane, fueled by a desire to avenge the person she loves most. If she starts telling the girls she's been visited by him in her dreams, they'll look at her with those sorrowful looks that make her want to break down and weep.]
Lune and Sciel miss you, too.
[Yet they were quicker to move on. The mission still remained, and they had less time to waste. She understands. Gustave was her father, her brother. The cut is deeper for her.]
You're the reason why we have a chance. A real chance.
[The grip on his wrist tightens, keeping his hand against her face even as she shakes her head. Her eyes are clear when she meets his, unblinking in their certainty.]
You don't apologize. You were--you did everything right. Everything. With me, the expedition, the... that day. [Even if he didn't keep his promise. Even if he didn't run. So often the dead were looked upon with a kindness they may not have deserved in life, as if being dead washed away their shortcomings and sins and ugly parts. But Gustave had none of that. His only flaw was that he was mortal.
It all happened so fast. No goodbyes, as he said. Renoir took that from them. Renoir took him from her in the worst possible way.]
[ And he tried. Even with no hope left, he'd tried, sword in his weakening hand as his eyesight failed and his legs faltered, his uniform saturated with his own blood. He'd asked questions, seeking out information even as his breath labored. He'd stood there, between her and the white-haired man who meant death, and looked his doom in the face, and tried.
But all he'd managed to do was to leave her alone with him. ]
All I wanted was for you to be safe and happy.
just when i thought i was done crying over this thread
[Oh, Gustave. What little composure she's claws together threatens to crumble when he speaks like that. Her fingers dig into his wrist, eyes squeezing shut as she nuzzles her cheek against his palm, his pain a blade in her chest.]
You did. Please, don't think you didn't. You did.
[Verso stepped in once Gustave fell, but would he have been there in time had Gustave not challenged Renoir? She thinks about the cliff regularly. How powerless she felt and how she begged and screamed to no avail and how Gustave's corpse was left so indignantly on the rock, the light behind his eyes gone. It was so much worse than the Gommage. It was a nightmare she hoped to wake from, but couldn't.]
You've never let me down. Not ever. That's still true.
[ Her pain cracks across her face like the lightning he used to call down from the sky, just as sharp and just as wrenching. The last thing he wants to do is hurt her.
He'd known he had no chance, but what else could he do? He couldn't leave her there. He couldn't turn away from the man who had slaughtered his friends. He'd gone to his death knowing it would give her seconds, only. He'd bought each one of them so dearly. ]
You got away. You're safe. That's all I care about.
[ The shell of him that was left behind, slowly turning to stone like all the other expeditioners who fall along the path... maybe it will stay there forever, the sea breeze tugging lightly at the waves of his hair, the hem of his uniform, the only motion now left to the body that lies crumpled there. The rest of him, the part that mattered, Maelle laid to rest there beneath the tree in that calm, peaceful valley. ]
i need to hydrate after threading with you, you monster 💖😭
[That part of him, that protectiveness and selflessness, is what a good father should be, she thinks. She looks at him with a watery smile. There's some morbid comedy about Verso's father taking away her father, but she can't think of that monster when she's looking at Gustave's face. Here, he seems less tired. Less burdened. Even when sad, there's a peace to him, and she hopes to remember it forever along with his goodness and love.]
I'm the luckiest person in all the world. Not everyone got you as a brother and a father.
[ He had been happy, being there with Maelle as she grew up, having evenings and weekends and holidays with her and Emma, the little family he'd loved so much. It's one of the reasons he'd decided he wanted children after all, after helping her negotiate her way from childhood into teendom.
He wishes he could see the woman she'll become. ]
Do you remember when you first came to stay with us, and I would come read by your bedside to help you fall asleep?
[ His voice, as low and soothing as he could make it as he read from whatever was on hand: storybooks, sometimes; newspapers at others. Once in a while he'd even use some of his engineering texts: a surefire way to put her to sleep quickly. ]
[Previous families had tried to read to her, but Gustave made it feel comfortable and safe. Even if the threat of nightmares frightened her, she would look forward to whatever bedtime story he would have. Eventually, it felt like his constant and consistent presence before sleep took her chased the worst of the nightmares away.]
Those were some of my favorite moments, too. Even if I would dream of thermodynamics.
[The textbooks were sometimes the best because he was so invested in them.]
You read to me like you'd been doing it my whole life.
And in the morning, at breakfast, you'd try to act like your neck wasn't stiff.
[They were both younger, then, but she noticed. It's a memory that makes her feel warm, like the blanket he'd tuck around her before settling in to read. If she ever lived to have children of her own, she would do the same for them. She would want to be everything Gustave was, because in her eyes, he was perfect.]
[Maelle smiles as well, breathing out a laugh. No, never to her. Raising her couldn't have always been easy, but he never let her see his frustrations. He never made her feel like a burden. She only ever felt wanted, for the first time in her life, and it's a feeling she still carries with her.]
I liked you being there. You kept me safe, even back then. I think that's when you felt most like a father to me. You were always so patient.
[ It was what drove him on the continent, a need to keep Maelle safe, to get her home, somewhere all the terrors of that place couldn't threaten her any longer. ]
[ He smiles, and reaches for one of her hands to bring it to his lips, kissing her fingers they way he would when she was small and he would pretend she was a princess to make her laugh. His mustache and stubble brush rough-soft over the delicate skin of her knuckles. ]
[He was always the best to play with, when she was younger and loved make-believe. He was the most inventive whether it came to building castles out of blankets and chairs, or elaborate plotlines that distracted her from her sad orphan beginning. She would give anything to relive those days. To cherish them properly.]
Yeah. You'd better recognize me still, Gustave.
[A year, nine, eighty. He'll forever be 32 while time passes for her.
The hand he kissed reaches out to brush her fingers over his cheek, the scruff of his beard. She has a hundred memories of her cheek against his, her hair getting caught. So many hugs and embraces and moments she'll continue to miss terribly.]
Did you know? I used to hate my red hair. I always wished it was brown, like yours. It made it obvious we weren't related.
[Her eyes are bright from tears, and now amusement. She runs her thumb against the scruff. The memory is as clear as yesterday. He had looked like a completely different man. And not in a good way.]
Oof. You walked down the stairs and scared me. Surprised I didn't start bawling, really.
[ He's laughing now, for real, happy to play the fool and coax her into smiles and happier memories. He remembers it, too — how he remembers it, he doesn't know, but perhaps they're just her memories sifting in through the mind she's created for this dream — the way her eyes had locked onto him, startled, and then widened in horror. ]
[Maybe, maybe not, but she laughs. The childhood he gave her made up for the years that came before. Her other hand lifts to press to Gustave's other cheek--sandwiching his face between her hands.]
Yeah. This is what I want to remember. You're always so... silly, despite everything. I think you made me laugh every single day we had together.
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It would hurt like this does. Losing him would always shatter her heart in a way that could never be put right. Like the Gestrals, she thinks--they can return, but not completely. Not as they were before.
They never had enough time. He could be like Verso, immortal, and a century would never be enough for her.]
Then we don't say it, because we'll see each other again.
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He's always been just a little bit too selfish for that. ]
Okay.
[ He runs his thumb lightly over her cheek again, nodding. ]
We won't say goodbye.
[ His smile tugs, almost into a real curve, before it trun rueful once more. ]
Tell the others I say hi, okay?
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[It's said with her own wry smile. She's very much still sane, fueled by a desire to avenge the person she loves most. If she starts telling the girls she's been visited by him in her dreams, they'll look at her with those sorrowful looks that make her want to break down and weep.]
Lune and Sciel miss you, too.
[Yet they were quicker to move on. The mission still remained, and they had less time to waste. She understands. Gustave was her father, her brother. The cut is deeper for her.]
You're the reason why we have a chance. A real chance.
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[ Lune might think it's nothing but a dream, but Sciel... Sciel might understand. He knows how much she wanted to see Pierre again, any way she could.
His glance slides away from her at her comment, landing on the fingers she has wrapped at his wrist. ]
The Lumina tech will help. But I...
[ He'd felt the blade of light go through his chest; he'd seen the explosion of chroma around him, and knew he'd failed. ]
I couldn't... stop him. Maelle, I'm sorry.
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[The grip on his wrist tightens, keeping his hand against her face even as she shakes her head. Her eyes are clear when she meets his, unblinking in their certainty.]
You don't apologize. You were--you did everything right. Everything. With me, the expedition, the... that day. [Even if he didn't keep his promise. Even if he didn't run. So often the dead were looked upon with a kindness they may not have deserved in life, as if being dead washed away their shortcomings and sins and ugly parts. But Gustave had none of that. His only flaw was that he was mortal.
It all happened so fast. No goodbyes, as he said. Renoir took that from them. Renoir took him from her in the worst possible way.]
Nothing is your fault.
alexa find the 'try not to cry' meme
[ And he tried. Even with no hope left, he'd tried, sword in his weakening hand as his eyesight failed and his legs faltered, his uniform saturated with his own blood. He'd asked questions, seeking out information even as his breath labored. He'd stood there, between her and the white-haired man who meant death, and looked his doom in the face, and tried.
But all he'd managed to do was to leave her alone with him. ]
All I wanted was for you to be safe and happy.
just when i thought i was done crying over this thread
You did. Please, don't think you didn't. You did.
[Verso stepped in once Gustave fell, but would he have been there in time had Gustave not challenged Renoir? She thinks about the cliff regularly. How powerless she felt and how she begged and screamed to no avail and how Gustave's corpse was left so indignantly on the rock, the light behind his eyes gone. It was so much worse than the Gommage. It was a nightmare she hoped to wake from, but couldn't.]
You've never let me down. Not ever. That's still true.
[It will remain forever true, now.]
just weeping forever over them
He'd known he had no chance, but what else could he do? He couldn't leave her there. He couldn't turn away from the man who had slaughtered his friends. He'd gone to his death knowing it would give her seconds, only. He'd bought each one of them so dearly. ]
You got away. You're safe. That's all I care about.
[ The shell of him that was left behind, slowly turning to stone like all the other expeditioners who fall along the path... maybe it will stay there forever, the sea breeze tugging lightly at the waves of his hair, the hem of his uniform, the only motion now left to the body that lies crumpled there. The rest of him, the part that mattered, Maelle laid to rest there beneath the tree in that calm, peaceful valley. ]
i need to hydrate after threading with you, you monster 💖😭
[That part of him, that protectiveness and selflessness, is what a good father should be, she thinks. She looks at him with a watery smile. There's some morbid comedy about Verso's father taking away her father, but she can't think of that monster when she's looking at Gustave's face. Here, he seems less tired. Less burdened. Even when sad, there's a peace to him, and she hopes to remember it forever along with his goodness and love.]
I'm the luckiest person in all the world. Not everyone got you as a brother and a father.
[Sorry, Emma.]
I was put here to torment you, specifically
[ He laughs, ducking his head before looking back up at her. ]
That's true. Only you can boast that particular unique relationship with me.
[ Father, brother — does it matter which? In the end, he was her family when she needed one. And she was his. ]
That makes me pretty lucky, too, I think.
#blessed
[It's fine. Everyone has broken, cobbled together families. They were simply one another's family, and how special that is.]
I could tell you were happy. I never once doubted if you regretted taking me in.
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[ He had been happy, being there with Maelle as she grew up, having evenings and weekends and holidays with her and Emma, the little family he'd loved so much. It's one of the reasons he'd decided he wanted children after all, after helping her negotiate her way from childhood into teendom.
He wishes he could see the woman she'll become. ]
Do you remember when you first came to stay with us, and I would come read by your bedside to help you fall asleep?
[ His voice, as low and soothing as he could make it as he read from whatever was on hand: storybooks, sometimes; newspapers at others. Once in a while he'd even use some of his engineering texts: a surefire way to put her to sleep quickly. ]
Those were some of my favorite moments.
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[Previous families had tried to read to her, but Gustave made it feel comfortable and safe. Even if the threat of nightmares frightened her, she would look forward to whatever bedtime story he would have. Eventually, it felt like his constant and consistent presence before sleep took her chased the worst of the nightmares away.]
Those were some of my favorite moments, too. Even if I would dream of thermodynamics.
[The textbooks were sometimes the best because he was so invested in them.]
You read to me like you'd been doing it my whole life.
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[ He squints thoughtfully, exaggerated. ]
Slightly better, anyway.
Emma would come and find me dozing in that chair at your bedside.
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[They were both younger, then, but she noticed. It's a memory that makes her feel warm, like the blanket he'd tuck around her before settling in to read. If she ever lived to have children of her own, she would do the same for them. She would want to be everything Gustave was, because in her eyes, he was perfect.]
You never complained.
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[ But he's teasing, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. ]
I liked being there with you.
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I liked you being there. You kept me safe, even back then. I think that's when you felt most like a father to me. You were always so patient.
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[ It was what drove him on the continent, a need to keep Maelle safe, to get her home, somewhere all the terrors of that place couldn't threaten her any longer. ]
You'll have to do that for yourself, now.
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Oh, you did. You kept me safer than anyone else ever could. You taught me how...
[Her voice cracks. Traitor. She clears her throat.]
I wish it was still you, but I can do it. All the things I've learned from you will keep me safe.
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Remember your promise.
[ To live, as long and as happily as she can. ]
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Yeah. You'd better recognize me still, Gustave.
[A year, nine, eighty. He'll forever be 32 while time passes for her.
The hand he kissed reaches out to brush her fingers over his cheek, the scruff of his beard. She has a hundred memories of her cheek against his, her hair getting caught. So many hugs and embraces and moments she'll continue to miss terribly.]
Did you know? I used to hate my red hair. I always wished it was brown, like yours. It made it obvious we weren't related.
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You'd look cute as a brunette. But I like the red. Suits you.
[ She brushes her fingers against his beard and he smiles, turning his head a little into her touch. ]
Remember the time I shaved? First time you ever saw me without a beard, I think.
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[Her eyes are bright from tears, and now amusement. She runs her thumb against the scruff. The memory is as clear as yesterday. He had looked like a completely different man. And not in a good way.]
Oof. You walked down the stairs and scared me. Surprised I didn't start bawling, really.
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[ He's laughing now, for real, happy to play the fool and coax her into smiles and happier memories. He remembers it, too — how he remembers it, he doesn't know, but perhaps they're just her memories sifting in through the mind she's created for this dream — the way her eyes had locked onto him, startled, and then widened in horror. ]
It wasn't that bad.
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[Maybe, maybe not, but she laughs. The childhood he gave her made up for the years that came before. Her other hand lifts to press to Gustave's other cheek--sandwiching his face between her hands.]
Yeah. This is what I want to remember. You're always so... silly, despite everything. I think you made me laugh every single day we had together.
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