Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Please.

I don't want this life...

I don't want this life...

I don't want this life...

I don't want this life...

Help me...

Help me...

The first thing he felt was the sun hitting his face, interrupting the peaceful, quiet nothingness he had sought for so long. For a moment, he wanted just to lie there and bask in its warmth, surrounded by soft grass and a light breeze.

Then his memories rushed back, flooding his mind with an overwhelming sense of dread. Next came the voices, all echoing the same thing. He had failed.

You failed Aline.

You failed Alicia.

You failed Verso.

As quickly as he could, he scrambled to his feet, opening his eyes to the all-too-familiar sight of that damned monolith in the distance.

"Fuck," Verso muttered, shaking his head.

"Verso," a voice softly called out from behind him.

He turned around and there she was. White hair and an apologetic, unscarred smile.

"Fuck," Verso exhaled.

"Verso, it's alright."

She took small steps toward him, hands raised as if placating a pet.

"You're alright, Verso. You're alright," she repeated.

She'd brought him back. Ignored his dying wishes and painted breath back into him. It was so cruel and yet so predictable that he almost laughed. Instead, his legs gave out and he collapsed on his behind.

"No, no, no," was all he could mutter.

Maelle crouched down, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his shoulder.

"It's OK. You're OK," she said. "We're at our old campsite. You're OK."

He pushed her away and put distance between them. She didn't stop him, but he could tell by the look on her face that she didn't appreciate it. He watched as she took a moment to compose herself.

"Why?" he asked.

She knew what he was asking, but didn't answer.

"Why?" he repeated. "Why Alicia?!"

At the mention of her name, she stood up and made her way towards him again, bringing her face to his.

"Maelle," she corrected calmly, before her eyes softened. "I'm sorry, Verso."

She reached out slowly, resting her hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I did try to move on. I swear. I recreated Lumière. I brought everyone back. I tried to live my life, but no matter what I did, I still felt that something was missing. That you were missing."

He didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure how to.

"Every day, I regret what happened. How things ended that day. I don't want that to be our last memories of each other."

"So what? You bring me back and force me to live out your fantasy with you?"

She sighed and stood up.

"No, Verso. All I want is to show you this world. This beautiful world Verso had originally painted, full of life and free from the destruction and chaos brought on by Maman and Papa."

"And then..." she continued, "and then I want you to choose."

"Choose? Choose what?"

She smiled softly at him.

"Whether you want to continue living."

Chapter Text

“Continue living? What are you even talking about?”

His mind was reeling. Was this a cruel trick? There must be a catch. Could he believe her? She’d already brought him back once, against his wishes—what was stopping her from doing it again?

“I know your life has been hard. You were forced into an impossible situation, Verso. I don’t blame you for wanting to rest after what you’ve endured for so long. But don’t you see? This is your chance—our chance to take back what was stolen from us. To start fresh. Here, in this world, free from Maman and Papa, we can live, Verso.”

“Start fresh?! Start fresh?!” He stood up and approached her. “Are you fucking kidding me, Maelle?”

To suggest such a thing for someone like him, someone who’d done the things he’d done, was unfathomable. You couldn’t wipe the slate clean, especially not one so bloodied and broken as his.

“No, Verso, I am not kidding you.” Maelle sighed, crossing her arms. “If you just spend some time here, you’ll come to see things my way. I know it.”

“So what’s your plan then, huh? Force me to live in this fantasy of yours, and what? Pretend like nothing happened? That I’m not just some painted clone of your dead br—”

“This argument is pointless. You’re going to live in this world, Verso. I’ve already decided.” She opened the palm of her hands to reveal red and white rose petals. “The next Gommage would’ve occurred nine months from now. You’re going to live until then. And if, on that day, you don’t want this life anymore, I’ll grant you your wish. I’ll unpaint you.”

He watched as the petals faded away into nothingness.

“You’re insane.”

“I’m not.”

“Listen to what you’re saying, Maelle. I don’t want to be here. And you want me to suffer all that time for what? For what?!”

“I’m not,” she repeated. There was a warning in her eyes. “And you wouldn’t be suffering. You’d be getting another chance.”

“Another chance that I don’t want! What happens when that day comes and I decide I don’t want to stay? Are you going to decide that all it’ll take is some more time for me to change my mind?”

“Do you have so little faith in me?” she asked.

She smiled sadly when he didn’t answer. 

“When that day comes, I will unpaint you if you wish, Verso. I swear it.”

He looked into her eyes, trying to see if he could detect any hint of falsehood.

You can trust her.

You can’t trust her.

“What?” Maelle asked. “Do you think I’ll turn you into a puppet or something? Pull your strings every day? Force you into a life you don’t want?”

“Yes.”

Her face fell at his admission, and she took a moment before responding.

“No, Verso. I wouldn’t do that.” She smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “That’s what you tried to do.”

He had no response to that.

“It’s OK. I've moved past that. After everything that happened that day, I don't think either of us were in our right minds.”

Maelle reached out to take his hands.

“I want to give you the choice you never offered me.” Her hands were too warm. “I want you to be in my life, in our lives, but only if that’s what you want too.”

“What about Verso’s soul?” he asked. “Does he get the same choice?”

Maelle dropped her hold on him and walked to the edge of the cliff. She looked out at the sea, towards the monolith.

“No,” she said. “He doesn’t.”

“And I’m just supposed to accept that?!”

“Yes!” She turned towards him. “You are supposed to accept that. It’s cruel and fucked up and I get it. But there is no other option. He needs to continue painting for this world to continue existing.”

“Maelle, please—”

“‘Life keeps forcing cruel choices,’ right? Well, this is the choice you get, Verso. Either you choose to live with us, knowing what that means for Verso’s soul, or you choose to leave us and his soul behind. Either way, this world will continue. I won’t allow otherwise.”

He took note of the calmness in her stance, her set shoulders, the look in her eyes. She looked strong, ready for a fight. He couldn’t say he felt the same. His body felt off. His muscles ached. His mind felt sluggish.

If they fought right now, he’d lose. And if he lost, then what? Most likely, she’d just bring him back again. 

Perhaps it was hopeless. Maybe there was nothing left he could do right now but accept what she’d said. 

He almost laughed at the thought. He’d worked so hard for so many years to rid this world of the Paintress and her hold on him, only for Alicia to take her place.

It was always hopeless. You’ve never been able to accomplish anything.

“And if I’ve already made my choice?” Verso asked.

“Those weren’t the conditions. Until the next Gommage. Then you can choose.”

The finality with which she spoke was getting to him. He felt the pressure within rising, gnawing at the back of his head. He stared her down, their eyes locked in a stalemate, but Maelle did not relent. 

She just stared back at him, and he could tell. That finality she spoke with; it wasn't for show. 

Eventually, he turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to relieve the pressure he felt in his skull. His mind raced, trying to figure out what he could do, how he could respond. Then reality set in, and his anger gave way to bargaining.

The next Gommage. 

Nine months.

Maybe he could do it. 

What was that compared to the lifetime he’d lived already?

“Fine.” He gestured for her to lead the way. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Fantastic start,” Maelle muttered before cupping her hands around her mouth and yelling, “Esquie!”

He felt Esquie’s presence before he heard him, but that did not last long.

“WOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOO! VERSOOOOOOOO!”

And then there Esquie was, in all his glorious glory, hovering at the edge of the cliff right in front of them.

“Mon ami! You are back!” Esquire may not have a mouth, but Verso heard the smile in his voice. “How wonderful! Monoco is going to be so happy to go on more adventures together.”

As disappointed as he was to be in this situation, he could never be disappointed to see Esquie.

“Hello, Esquie. You are as loud as ever.” Maelle and he made their way onto Esquie’s back. “Have you been well, old friend?”

“I have been well. But now that you’re here, I’m even better than well! I’m super-well.”

“Sorry, but don’t get your hopes up. I don’t plan on being here long. I can’t promise anything.”

“Oh, that’s OK, mon ami! I will take whatever time with you I can. Besides, sometimes, just spending time with your friends turns into the best adventures.”

“Your wisdom knows no bounds, Esquie,” Maelle said, patting his back. “Would you mind taking us back to Lumière?”

“Of course not, mon ami! Hang on tight! Flashing through the sky!”

Lune watched as Sciel sat across from her with a café crème and a croissant. They were seated at a small table outside of Mathilde’s. Her café crème sat before her, half empty, and the viennoiserie she’d bought earlier had been polished off a few moments ago. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Sciel smiled. “Pierre needed my help planting seeds for a new garden we’ve decided to grow.”

“Right,” Lune said. “Planting seeds. I’m sure that’s what Pierre so desperately needed your help with.”

Sciel only shrugged, smiling still as she sipped her café before digging into her croissant. 

Lune shook her head with a smile and turned towards the busy street before them. She took a moment to watch as people walked past, enjoying their afternoon under clear skies and a bright sun.

This café had become their favorite meeting spot since their return, the perfect backdrop for them to catch up as they took their time to enjoy a hot café and a treat. Before their expedition, she never would’ve wasted her time here. Never felt like she could afford to. There was too much to do, too many things to research, and far too much at stake. Now, though, they had a bit more time. She wished this version of Lumière—a free Lumière—could exist forever.

She sighed at the thought. It was always one problem after the next.

“So...” Sciel began, prompting Lune to turn back towards her. 

“So what?”

“Come on. Don’t pretend like this is just another café date.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why aren’t you saying anything about it?”

“What is there to say?”

“Seriously? Maelle just told us that she’s planning on bringing Verso back. That he’ll have what, nine months? Then he decides if he wants to stay? Absolutely crazy idea by the way. You have nothing to say about that?”

“No,” Lune said pointedly. “I don’t. What Verso does or doesn’t do has nothing to do with me.”

“Lune,” Sciel said softly. “I know you cared for him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, Lune. We both know it doesn’t suit you.”

Sciel was right. It didn’t.

“I’m not blind,” Sciel continued, “I saw you guys every night at camp. You two were close.”

What was she supposed to say? They did grow close, but how could they not? Fighting for their lives side by side every day, sharing secrets, hopes, and fears every other night, the fate of Lumière, an ever-present weight bearing down on them. Of course, they would grow close. It was inevitable.

“We all grew close. But it was a lie. Whatever connection you think we built with him, it didn’t matter. In the end, he chose them over us. He chose himself over us.”

“He did. But I think it did matter to him. It just wasn’t enough for him to change his mind.”

“How can you say that? He was ready to sacrifice us all, sacrifice our entire world. He almost succeeded, too.”

“I know.”

“Then how can you forgive him for that?”

“I don’t,” Sciel said adamantly. She leaned in closer. “But, even if he succeeded, I don’t think it would’ve been as easy as you make it seem. I don’t think he’s a bad person, Lune. I think he had his reasons.”

“He always has his reasons, that bastard. Do you really think there is any reason that could’ve justified what he tried to do?”

“I don’t know. Probably not,” Sciel admitted, “but I’d like to hear him out anyway.”

“Then what, Sciel?”

“Then we accept it and move forward. Or we don’t and we move on.”

“That’s it?” Lune asked. “Just move forward? No, I can’t do that.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?

“Both.”

Sciel sighed at her friend, but this stubbornness was nothing new. Neither was her ire. It was part of what made Lune, Lune. She finished the rest of her croissant and took another sip of her café. She was about to speak again when Lune moved to get up from her seat. 

“I’ve got to get back to the research lab,” Lune said.

“Mmm,” Sciel hummed noncommittally around her cup.

Lune grabbed her pack and made to leave, mourning her unfinished cafe that had undoubtedly gone cold. She briefly considered sparking some warmth into it, but their conversation left a sour taste in her mouth.

She made it three steps before Sciel called out to her. 

“Time moves differently now, Lune.”

Lune paused, but said nothing.

“You’re not going to be able to avoid him forever.”

At that, Lune turned around and smiled.

“We’ll see about that.”

Chapter Text

For the second day in a row, he woke up unaware of where he was. He sat up, trying to shake off the lingering grogginess, and assessed his surroundings. He was in a rather spacious bed, soft sheets pooled around him. There was a balcony to his side where sunlight was pouring in. If he looked outside, he’d see on the other side of a busy street a large building complex mirroring his own. 

He groaned, rubbing his face as he remembered where he was. 

His new apartment. In Lumière.

After their discussion yesterday—if one could even call such a thing a discussion—Esquie had flown them back to Lumière. He’d stared down at the waves the entire time, his back turned towards Maelle. 

To her credit, she hadn’t tried to bother him either, and the trip had been spent in silence.

It was late by the time they reached Lumière’s harbor, and when they stepped onto the pier, he noticed there weren’t too many people in the area, which he was thankful for.

They’d bid farewell to Esquie, who mentioned that he had to get back to Francois and Monoco to inform them of Verso’s return, but that he would see them again soon.

After watching Esquie fly away, he’d taken a breath and turned towards the city.

Against his best efforts, there he was, back in Lumière.

He wasn’t afforded much time to let the moment sink in, though, as Maelle had simply told him to follow her and started walking away.

Eventually, they arrived at the apartment Maelle had painted for him, a corner unit in the South wing of an apartment complex on the West side of Lumière.

The day’s events caught up to him by then, though, because all he did after Maelle opened the door and handed him the key was enter and then close the door in her face. He’d heard her sigh on the other side of the door, followed by a small “Goodnight, Verso” and departing footsteps.

He’d quickly surveyed the apartment. It was spacious and well-furnished. The entryway opened to a living room with a couch, chairs, and a fireplace. Various paintings adorned the walls. A record player was tucked in the corner of the room. A separate kitchen and dining area lay beyond the living room, and a main bedroom beyond that. The decor reminded him a bit of the manor in his memories. He hoped that wasn’t Maelle’s intention.

The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was that he hated it.

He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, noting the time—11 AM—before he fell back into bed with a thud.

Physically, he felt better than he had when he woke yesterday. Mentally, though, not so much. Sleep was normally restless for him, but it’d been even worse last night.

He wondered what he had gotten himself into this time. Never in his life did he think he’d be back in Lumière like this.

His thoughts were interrupted by knocking at his front door. 

He sighed, but did nothing, hoping Maelle would get the hint and just leave. 

Of course, she didn’t.

She made two more attempts before calling out to him.

“Verso! I know you’re awake! If you don’t open this door soon, your apartment will be missing a front door permanently.”

He sighed again and got out of bed. He went to the fully stocked dresser and haphazardly threw on a plain white shirt and black pants before heading to the door.

He opened it to an annoyed Maelle, two takeout cups in hand.

“Seriously?” she asked.

He shrugged.

“Are you going to let me in?”

He left the door open and retreated into his apartment, sitting at the dining table.

On his way, he heard her counting softly to herself under her breath, as if she were trying to calm her temper.

He almost smirked. This was all her doing after all.

Maelle closed the door behind her and joined him at the table, setting one of the cups before him.

“Espresso. From Mathilde’s.”

He knew what she was doing. The fancy apartment. The drink in front of him. He was insulted that she thought these things would influence him.

He took the time to really look at her for the first time since she brought him back. 

She’d kept her hair white, but had styled it in the ponytail she had adorned before learning the truth. Back when she was just Maelle. Her outfit was simple: a striped black and white shirt, black overalls, and a red scarf around her neck. 

He watched her as she sipped from her cup.

“Fuck. This is harder than I thought it’d be,” she said eventually.

He waited a few more moments before speaking up.

“A month?” Since he died. Since he failed.

Another sip. 

“A month," she confirmed.

He nodded as he took hold of his drink.

One month. That was not a long time. From what he saw yesterday, though, on his way to this apartment, it was enough time to restore Lumière. Or the majority of it at least. 

“Have you left the Canvas yet?” he asked.

Now you want to play the role of caring brother? Bit late for that, don’t you think?

Another sip.

“No.”

He expected that answer, but he still failed to control his anger. He sent his cup flying, espresso splattering all over the kitchen.

He stood up and looked down at her, arms braced on the table.

“WHAT. THE. FUCK. MAELLE?”  

She didn’t flinch, staying seated and looking up at him. She appeared calm, but he noticed her grip on her cup was too tight.

“You’ve been lecturing me about what I tried to do, but I was right. You’re going to die here. What are you even thinking?!”

“I’m not going to die here, Verso. I’m going to go back. Eventually.”

“When?”

“Nine months from now.” She smiled. “After the next Gommage.”

“Why wait? Every day you spend here, you get worse.”

“Because there is still too much to do here. For Lumière. For me. For you.”

“No, don’t make this about me. Don’t use me as an excuse.”

“You don’t understand. You saw what the city was like thanks to Papa. Chaos and destruction everywhere.” She flicked her wrist, and the image outside his window transformed. Gone were the clear skies and sunshine, replaced instead with the broken-down Lumière they’d experienced when fighting her father. “After you—after you disappeared, there was so much work to do. Everyone needed to be repainted. The city was in ruins. And it was just me, Lune, Sciel, Esquie and Monoco.”

He sat down as she explained, his anger dissipating slightly as he envisioned what it must’ve been like for her in the aftermath.

“I was the only one who could fix it, but it was difficult. My powers were still so new. I didn’t know what I was doing.” She looked him in the eyes. “And you weren’t there to help me. But, I managed in the end.”

With another flick of her wrist, the illusion she painted disappeared.

“You see the result,” she said with a smile.

“This is just one Canvas. It’s not worth your life.”

She sighed.

“You still don’t get it.”

“I do—”

“Let me show you why I haven’t left yet. Why I still need to be here.”

“Maelle...”

“Please.”

Maybe if he heard her out, if she felt like he made an effort to understand, she’d be more receptive to what he was saying.

“Fine.”

He didn’t have the words to describe how surreal it felt to walk the streets of Lumière again after all this time. The city he grew up in, the city he helped rebuild after the Fracture, the city he tried to erase.

Things had changed quite a bit since he’d been here last, but as they made their way through the city, there were still parts he could recognize.

The people who currently flooded the streets, though, he didn’t recognize any of them. Thankfully, they didn’t seem to recognize him either. He wasn’t sure how much of his actions had been revealed to the people of Lumière, but given that he hadn’t been stabbed yet, he figured not much.

The first site they visited was the school, which turned out to be much bigger than he remembered. She described how it’d been expanded to allow for a more general education. Before, almost all the classes were focused on preparing for expeditions. Combat. Pictos. Survival Skills. There had been general education courses, of course, but they tapered off after the first few years to consolidate resources for the expedition courses.

He learned that Gustave had been repainted and was now in charge of the engineering department. The department had produced numerous inventions and technologies for the expeditions in the past, but there was now a shift towards things that could improve life in Lumière. Maelle also mentioned that Lune was head of the research department and how the position kept her busy, considering everything they’d discovered recently.

After visiting the school, they ventured to the outskirts of Lumière, where Maelle showed him the newly constructed borders of the city. After the fracture, the edges of the city were jagged and out of place, but Maelle had fixed things up so that the city borders now formed a solid rectangle. And on the outskirts, next to the ocean, they’d set up grass plains suitable for farming and raising livestock. 

Sciel and her husband lived out here on their farm. Not only were they one of the leading contributors to Lumière’s food supply, but they were also helping expand these areas, allowing others to take on this lifestyle if they wanted it.

Afterwards, they traveled down the main road in Lumière towards the harbor. This area of the city was much different during the day than when they’d landed last night. There was so much commotion, so many people walking about, visiting all the different shops and stands. It took him aback for a second when he saw an older man who he guessed was in his forties, enjoying a croissant at a cafe. All of it reminded him of the Lumière he lived in before the Fracture.

The harbor itself had just as much going on. Docked ships all around, some being unloaded from a recent trip, others being prepared for departure. Maelle told him that aside from fishing trips, they were starting to consider trips back to the main continent. This time, though, the trips would mainly be for research purposes. They’d stick to the areas closest to Lumière first, where they knew it was safe, before branching out. 

She also told him that Monoco spent most of his time on the continent, but that he returned to Lumière from time to time. Him, Esquie, and sometimes Noco. The times were usually random, but they tried to take the opportunity to gather and reunite whenever that happened. Monoco usually only brought back stories to brag about, but, regardless, they tried to take advantage of the opportunity.

He didn’t say much during the tour, but Maelle didn’t seem to mind. In fact, with each location they visited, her mood seemed to improve. He knew that her attachment to the city and the people was genuine, but it was different seeing it up close. Everywhere they went, people greeted her with warmth and kindness.

Their latest stop was the Eiffel Tower. It'd been fixed, and even he was impressed at how closely it resembled the tower he remembered before the Fracture.

He climbed the last flight of stairs to see Maelle leaning against the railing, her back towards him as she looked out towards the harbor and the setting sun.

He walked up beside her, leaning against the railing with both arms. He glanced at her and noted the smile on her face.

“I haven’t told anyone, but this is my second favorite spot in the city. You can see all of Lumière from here: Main Street, the harbor, the school, Central Plaza.” She looked to him with hope in her eyes. “But you know what the best part of it is?”

He shook his head.

“The people. You can see how full of life Lumière is. How everyone is just going about their lives.”

He didn’t respond, but looked back out at the view she described. They sat in silence for a while before Maelle spoke up again.

“Do you see now, Verso?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t.”

She looked back at him with a frown.

He sighed and steeled himself for the argument to come.

“I don’t see the point in any of this. Not for you,” he continued.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a painter, Maelle. You can create anything you want, erase anything you don’t. What is the point of doing all these things? The education system, the food infrastructure, the research trips. You could paint all this yourself in a day.”

“I’m not a god, Verso.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but he wouldn’t back down.

“You are, though. You’re a god living amongst mortals. You’re deluding yourself if you think otherwise.”

“I don’t want to be. I just want to be one of them.”

“Really? So tell me what you’ll do when something terrible happens? When someone loses a loved one, and they come to you begging for you to bring them back? If something happens to Gustave or Lune or Sciel, are you saying you won’t just repaint them?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“You have all this incredible power. Power that they can’t even imagine.” He gestured out towards the busy streets before them. “You can’t expect them to see you as just another person. It’s impossible.” 

Slowly, he put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. 

“Look, it’ll be easier for them, and for you, if you leave the Canvas. You can—”

Abruptly, she turned away from him, shrugging his hand off.

“Stop,” she said. “Stop acting as if you know what it’s like. As if you know what’s best for everyone.”

“Maelle, please. Just think—”

“You don’t get it! You don’t get it.” She started walking away. “There’s one more place I need to show you.”

Bravo, Verso. That went well.

Verso watched her walk away for a moment, cursing under his breath, before following after her.

He followed her to the Central Plaza of Lumière, where she waited for him in the center of some type of memorial. Once he got close enough, he made out the details of the memorial, and his stomach dropped.

Expedition flags. Expedition flags were planted in a ring around the grassy area where Maelle was standing. 

There looked to be a pathway to Maelle between the two closest flags. When he reached this opening, he paused as he read the numbers etched into the two flags in front of him: 0 and 33.

He tried to quell the emotions inside him, but the thoughts and memories were starting to overwhelm him.

He couldn’t help himself. He walked along the perimeter of the ring, looking at each flag, remembering all the expeditions he’d encountered over the years. 

The ones he became a part of, the ones he killed, the ones he lent a helping hand to, the ones he left to their demise.

He could still see their faces. All those whom he doomed.

Julie. Simon.

Lune. Sciel.

Every expeditioner he met in between.

Once he came full circle, he paused at the last flag, staring at the 33.

He felt off balance, but attempted to refocus on what he was trying to do.

He made his way to Maelle in the ring’s center. She was standing next to a plaque. He kneeled on one knee to read it.

To Those Who Came Before: Thank You

“This is the point, Verso,” Maelle said. “All these expeditions, all of those that came before us, they sacrificed their lives for Lumière. They lit the path for us to follow.”

He stood up and stepped back until he was beside her.

“You weren’t here. The shadow that Maman and Papa cast over this city. You don’t understand how oppressive it was. How it seeped into all areas of our lives. Inescapable. You weren’t here, but I was.

“What you don’t understand, Verso—you and Papa—is that this was my life too. I may be Alicia, but I am Maelle, too. I’ve lived two lives. I’ve spent more time in this Canvas than outside of it. I grew up in this city. I’ve made friends and family, and I’ve lost them. I know what it was like to live under that shadow. And now I know what it’s like to live out from under it. You can’t tell me that these aren’t my people—that this isn’t my home.”

“And what about Alicia's home?” he asked.

She faltered for a moment, but recovered quickly.

“That’s my home, too. And I’ll go back eventually, but I can’t just abandon Lumière. I know things aren't perfect. What you said earlier about what I would do if someone I cared about died? I don't know. I don't have all the answers right now. But the future we strived for, for so long, is finally within reach. After the Fracture, you said you returned home to help rebuild. I’m trying to do the same.”

He sighed.

“That’s why I want to stay until the next Gommage,” she continued. “You know how time works out there, Verso. If I leave, who knows how long it’ll be before I return? I need to make sure Lumière is ready.”

He wanted to believe her. To trust her. He really did. But could he?

“I hope by that time, you’ll have come to see things differently. This was your home once, too.”

Home? You never had a home, Verso. Not a real one. You belong nowhere.

“The next Gommage? Then you’ll go home?” he asked.

“Yes. I promise.”

She heard him curse as she approached his office. His door was open, though, so she knocked before quickly heading in. 

Once inside, she saw that he was scrambling to pack his bag. She glanced outside the window behind him and noted how dark it was. He probably hadn’t meant to work so late.

“Did you talk to Maelle?” she asked.

He glanced up at her.

“Hello to you, too, Lune.”

“Gustave.”

Gustave sighed and stopped packing for the moment.

“I did. Before she left on her um—mission. The one with—”

“Yes, I got it.”

She stopped herself from saying anything more on that topic. Surely, there was enough going on in Lumière without an immortal, selfish nihilist roaming the streets.

“And?” she asked.

“She said the same thing she did last time. After the next Gommage. Or the would-be Gommage, I guess. Not too sure what to call it now.”

At least Maelle had picked a consistent date.

“Do you think she’ll stick to her word?”

She watched as he struggled to answer her.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, “but I trust that she will. She’s been through a lot, and it hasn’t been that long since, well, since everything. She’s been working really hard to rebuild the city.”

“I appreciate what she did—what she’s doing. You know that. And I care for her too, but you know the situation we’re in. It’s what’s best for Lumière.”

“Yes, yes, I know.”

“It’s what’s best for her, too, Gustave.”

“I said I know, Lune,” he snapped at her.

She held her ground.

“Look,” he continued, “let’s give her some more time to get acclimated. I’ll check in with her again once things have settled down a bit more, alright?”

She knew she couldn’t push him too far on this. Not right now.

“Alright,” she sighed.

“Now, I need to get home soon,” he said as he started packing again, “or Sophie is going to be very angry. You should go home, too. It’s pretty late.”

“I’m used to it.”

“I don’t doubt it, but things are different now. C’mon, I can walk you halfway.”

Verso sat in his apartment, replaying the day over and over in his mind.

All the places they’d visited. The conversations they had. What she said.

He still couldn’t tell if she was telling the truth.

Like father, like son. You know she’s lying.

He growled. He couldn’t think clearly. Not with these voices constantly chiming in. They were hard to deal with before, but after getting repainted, they seemed to have magnified.

He’d tried to keep things under control, but it was getting to be too much.

Failing. Being repainted. Being back in Lumière. Learning that Maelle hadn’t left yet. Walking around the city. The flags. Those fucking flags.

He eyed the wine bottles on the kitchen counter. Half of them were stained with this morning’s espresso. 

Before he knew it, he had a bottle in his hand. He materialized his dagger and used it to open the bottle before taking several long swigs.

He brought the bottle along with a few more with him back to the couch and proceeded to try to drink himself to sleep.

When he came to, he was back at the Expedition Memorial. The moon was full in the night sky, and he had an unfinished wine bottle in his hand.

He stumbled his way towards the 0 and 33 flags. He took a long look at them and traced the outlines of their numbers with his hand.

The first expedition. The one he started with Renoir. The one that revealed the truth. The one he betrayed.

The last expedition. The one he joined by replacing one of their dead members. The one that succeeded. The one he betrayed.

He laughed, though it was short-lived.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he started rambling. “I was trying to do what was right. I’m sorry. I was trying to do what was right...” 

He stumbled and fell. The bottle slipped from his hand. From his back, he watched as it rolled on the pavement until it stopped against someone’s boot.

He watched as a hand came into view, picking the bottle up. He followed the bottle, watched as the person brought it to their face, read the label, and took a whiff.

“Tsk. What a waste.”

He recognized that voice.

He watched as the man stepped from out of the shadow, and his eyes fell upon the face of the man he had most recently let die.

Expedition 33’s Gustave.

He laughed at the irony before he lost consciousness again.

This time, when he came to, he was back on the couch at his apartment. He wasn’t alone, though. Gustave was sitting in one of the chairs in front of him.

He was too out of it to even question how they got here.

“Nice place,” Gustave said.

“Maelle. Repainted you.”

“She did. Disappointed?”

Verso laughed.

“Wasn’t personal.”

“Hmm, gotta admit it felt a bit personal to me.”

Verso shrugged. Maybe it was—a little.

“Here for an apology then?” Verso asked. He leaned back, spreading his arms along the spine of the couch. “Sorry, but you won't find one here. All out.”

“Yes, you must’ve used them up earlier,” Gustave said with a smirk.

It was difficult, but Verso managed to ignore the comment.

“If you’re here for revenge,” he said, “please, be my guest. It’d make my fucking day.”

Gustave made a show of assessing him, leaning forward to look him down from head to toe. Then he smiled.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Verso. I was just on my way home and noticed a sad drunk at the memorial. Figured I’d lend a helping hand.”

“How generous of you.”

“When I saw it was you, though, I admit, I was curious.”

Verso watched as Gustave got up from his seat and walked around the room, making a show of looking at the various items and decorations.

“Maelle told me about you. About your, uh, history.” Gustave made a not-so-subtle gesture towards one of the paintings on the wall. “When I heard it, honestly, I thought it was quite a sad story. Guess I wanted—”

“I don’t need your pity,” Verso warned him. Who the fuck did Gustave think he was? “You should leave.” 

Gustave put both of his hands up, palms facing him.

“All I’m saying is, I think I understand. What you did. Why you did it. Or at least I think I can.” 

He watched as Gustave grabbed his jacket from the chair.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Gustave continued, “I’m happy you failed. Very happy. But, I get it.”

“Good for you, Gustave. But I don’t need your pity. I don’t need your help. And I definitely don’t need your understanding.”

He watched as Gustave made to leave and then stopped in front of the door. Gustave turned to face him.

“It’s funny.” Gustave said, “Before, I’d never say something like this to anyone, but for you, Verso, I hope this year passes quickly for you.”

And then he was alone again. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, wishing for sleep to take him.

He seems like a good man. No wonder you let him die.

Chapter Text

Verso took a sip and scrunched his face in disappointment. The café crème he ordered wasn’t terrible, but he was not the biggest fan of the texture, and the taste was far too diluted for his liking.

He sighed.

Another day. Another disappointment.

The day after his tour of Lumière, he’d gone to Mathilde’s to try their espresso and was annoyed at how much he enjoyed it, how much it reminded him of Angelique’s. Since then, though, he made it a point of order to try out every drink on the menu in hopes that there was something he liked better.

It’d been five days since then, however, and his experiment was looking like a failure.

On the bright side, though, it did help him develop something similar to a routine. 

Every morning, he’d start his day at Mathilde’s, try out a new drink, and pick up some pastries for later. Then he’d go back to his apartment, argue with himself and the voices in his head, eat said pastries, and then wallow in self-pity until dinner, which was normally a bottle or two of wine. Before bed, he’d indulge in another bottle to silence the voices and allow him to fall asleep.

He guessed the routine wasn’t too bad, all things considered. He preferred it to actually going outside, seeing the people of Lumière as they lived their lives, adjusting to their newfound freedom.

He made a mental note never to order the café crème again and took a bite of his viennoiserie to mask the lingering taste. These he did like. Not quite the same as Angelique’s, but close enough.

He was trying to decide what he’d get tomorrow when a voice interrupted him.

“Verso.”

He looked up and saw Maelle, whom he hadn’t seen since the day of the tour. She was dressed casually in a simple white shirt and black skirt, though she still donned the same red scarf around her neck.

“Mind if I have a seat?” she asked.

If he was honest, he did mind, but he did have some questions he wanted answers to.

He motioned for her to go ahead, and she sat down across from him.

“It’s been a few days. How are you settling in?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, you know. Just great.”

“Verso,” she sighed.

“I’ve even developed a bit of a routine now.”

“Oh! That’s good, right?” she asked warily.

“Yeah, real good. I start my day off here with a café, go back to my apartment, do nothing, and then drink myself to sleep.”

“Verso...”

He took another sip of his drink in response, trying not to wince at the taste.

“That,” Maelle continued, “wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“What did you expect, Maelle?”

“I don’t know! I was hoping you’d at least try, though. Maybe go outside? Something!”

“I don’t know about that. I doubt the people of Lumière would appreciate me running around. Not after what I tried to do.”

“Most of them don’t know,” she admitted. “About what happened after we defeated Papa. They only know that there was another expeditioner who helped.”

“Dangerous game to play. Lying to people. I would know.”

“We’re not lying. There wasn’t a reason to tell everyone while you were—while you were gone.”

“Lying by omission is still lying.” He smirked. “Or so I’ve been told. And, unfortunately, I’m here now.”

“Yes, that’s something we’ll have to figure out eventually.”

“Hmm.”

A few moments passed in silence. Looking at her, at the frown on her face, her pinched eyebrows, he could tell she was struggling to come up with something. He figured it was a good opportunity to get his answers.

“Last time,” Verso began, and she looked up at him curiously, “you mentioned you repainted everyone.”

“I did. Or—at least, I tried to. I brought back everyone I could.”

Julie’s face flashed in his mind.

Bloody.

Eyes forever closed.

“Did—did you bring back Expedition 0?”

She looked at him with a sad, knowing look in her eyes. He could tell she knew who he was asking about. He wanted to avert his eyes, but didn’t.

“No,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, Verso. I couldn’t.”

He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. The sadness and guilt that washed over him, he expected. Was somewhat prepared for even.

“When I got access to all the chroma, I couldn’t feel many of the older expeditions,” Maelle continued. “Maman must’ve reused their chroma for new paintings.”

The relief, though, he hadn’t accounted for. Relief that he didn’t have to face her again. To answer for his actions.

You promised, Verso. You promised...

He was such a coward.

He opened his eyes when he felt Maelle’s hand on top of his, squeezing gently. His eyes traveled from their joined hands to look her in the eyes as she leaned forward.

“I’m sorry, Verso,” she repeated. “I would have.”

He nodded at her, not trusting himself to speak at the moment. They sat like that for a while as he tried to gather himself. 

“I understand,” he exhaled. “Thank you. For telling me.”

Slowly, he pulled his hand back and started to get up from his seat.

“Verso...” she said, leaning back, folding her hands in front of her.

“I, uh, I need to go,” he said.

He didn’t know where he was going. He just knew he wanted to be alone.

He skipped his routine for the next few days, choosing instead to spend as much of his day in bed as possible. Despite that, he didn’t feel any more rested.

The confirmation that Julie was gone forever left its mark. He knew it was a possibility, the most likely outcome even. Perhaps he was just holding onto a tiny sliver of hope that his promise to Julie wouldn’t end up being another lie.

He was getting so very tired of being a liar.

He was in bed when he heard a knock at his door. He sighed, but answered it much more quickly this time.

“Hi, Verso,” Maelle said, a takeout bag in her arms. “I, um, I brought some food.”

“Maelle.” He stepped back, opening the door to let her in.

She came in and set the bag on the dining table before pulling out takeout box after takeout box.

His stomach growled at the smells that enveloped the apartment. His immortality had allowed him to get by on cafe, pastries, and wine so far, but he didn't realize how much he missed real food until he smelt it.

“I figured it’d be good for you to actually eat something,” Maelle said.

“Considering how much food you brought, I'd say so.”

“I actually have to get going, but I also wanted to ask you something." She offered him a small smile.

He moved over towards her, opening up a few of the containers to see what was inside.

“Monoco and Esquie are coming back next Saturday,” she continued. “We’re going to meet them for dinner. Me, Gustave, Sciel, and Lune. I think you should come too.”

He paused what he was doing and stared at her, taken aback.

Did she really just ask him that?

“I think it’ll be good for you,” she continued. “And everyone else.”

“I don’t think they’d agree.”

“You can’t avoid them forever, Verso,” she sighed.

“I’m pretty sure I can. That’s probably what they’d appreciate the most, actually.”

“I spoke to most of them about it. They’re OK with it.”

He stared at her again, disbelieving.

“Maelle, it’s not a good idea.”

“Please. For me?” Maelle asked. “And if not for me, then do it for Monoco and Esquie. They’ll be heartbroken if they don’t get to see you.”

He did want to see Monoco and Esquie. He didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to them before. And his reunion with Esquie was short-lived on his first day back.

“I really don’t want to tell them that you didn’t want to see them.”

He glared at her, but she only responded with a soft smile.

He could envision it now. All of them seated around a dinner table. Death glares all around, aimed at him. Esquie, smiling to himself, oblivious to it all. Monoco spouting nonsense. Not exactly his idea of a good time.

But he looked at Maelle and saw how hopeful she was. 

He was torn. He’d spent so much time over the last few days going over everything she said. From the day of the tour to the conversation at Mathilde’s. Over and over again. He still couldn’t decide if he could trust her.

But, looking at her now, she looked so much like the Alicia in Verso’s memories. 

Maybe—maybe he could.

And maybe the rest of them deserved the chance to scream and yell and curse his name. The way Julie never got to. He certainly earned it.

And he would only be here for the next nine months anyway.

He couldn’t believe he was even considering it.

You can’t help but lie, can you, Verso? Even to yourself.

“I’ll think about it,” he told her.

She hugged him so fast that he couldn’t even react. She released him just as quickly, though, and headed towards the exit.

“Great! I’ll let them know you’re coming. You won’t regret it, Verso. I promise!”

“Hey, I just said—”

She was already halfway out the door.

“There’s a restaurant close to the harbor, on Main Street. Maison de Lumière. 6 PM. Bring a bottle of wine, maybe? Your apartment should be stocked up.”

And then she was gone.

“About that...”

He tightened his grip on the bottle and took a deep breath. For the fifth time today, he wondered what he was even doing.

It was a quarter past six, and he was approaching the restaurant Maelle mentioned. Right next to the harbor. 

He could see them, in the distance, seated at a table towards the edge of the outside seating area. It was sectioned off from the main area and had a great view of the ocean.

He identified Maelle, Sciel, and Gustave. Lune was absent, which didn’t surprise him in the slightest. Gustave was at the head of the table, Maelle and Sciel seated to his sides.

He figured it’d be better to arrive a bit later, more to avoid any individual conversation than anything else. He’d hoped that Esquie and Monoco would be there already, but that wasn’t the case.

He was still considering turning around and leaving when Maelle noticed him.

“Verso!” she called out with a wave. She got out of her seat quickly and started making her way to him as if afraid that he might leave.

The others at the table paused their conversation, their attention on him now as well.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Maelle said with a smile when she reached him.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged.

She grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward when he didn’t move any further.

“C’mon,” she said. “Esquie and Monoco should be here soon.”

He wasn’t sure what to do when they reached the table. How do you greet someone you tried to erase and someone you let die?

Sciel was looking at him over her wine glass, her expression blank. Gustave had an annoying smirk plastered on his face.

“Verso’s here,” Maelle said in an attempt to diffuse some of the awkwardness. “And he brought wine!”

He held the bottle up for a second to show them before placing it on the table. He caught Sciel’s eyes.

“Sciel.” He nodded slightly.

“Hello, Verso,” she replied from her seat, calm as ever. She didn't seem all that upset with him being there, but with Sciel, you could never really tell.

He turned his attention to Gustave, who’d gotten up from his seat and was walking up to him.

“Oh, that’s right,” Maelle said. “Let me introduce you guys. Gustave, this is Verso. Verso, Gustave.”

“We’ve met,” Gustave said when he reached him, offering his hand. “Briefly.”

Maelle looked back and forth between them, trying to figure out when that had happened.

Verso looked at Gustave’s hand and then back at Gustave, who was still smirking. He didn’t take it, narrowing his eyes at Gustave instead.

“Gustave.”

Gustave retracted his hand, unoffended, as if he knew Verso wasn’t going to take it. Instead, they stared at each other, both unwavering.

“Men,” Sciel said, shaking her head and taking another sip of her wine.

“Guys—” Maelle started before she was interrupted by a booming voice.

“BONJOUR! Mes amis!” Esquie said as he landed.

Verso took the opportunity to break away from Gustave and Maelle, heading towards Esquie and Monoco, who was climbing down from Esquie’s back.

“Esquie! Monoco!” he said with a smile. The first genuine smile he had since his return. It really did feel good to see them again.

“Verso! Mon ami! You are back! And we are back! And now we are together!” Esquie exclaimed.

“For now, buddy, yeah. We’re together.”

When he looked at Monoco, however, he sensed something was off. Monoco didn’t seem to have the same type of energy he was accustomed to. He’d half-anticipated a fight when they met again, but instead Monoco only walked up to him and stared at him.

“Verso,” Monoco said in a strange, somber tone.

Before he could ask Monoco what was wrong, the rest of them greeted Esquie and Monoco.

He watched as Monoco brushed past him, taking a seat next to Sciel, before he took a seat himself next to Maelle. Esquie followed, taking a place to Verso’s side at the other head of the table.

He took one of the glasses and poured himself some wine. He was going to need a lot of this tonight.

“Where’s Lune?” Monoco asked after counting how many people there were. “I brought back the weapon she asked for.”

An awkward silence followed.

“Lune? She, uh—” Maelle started. 

“She couldn’t make it tonight.” Sciel interrupted. “She’s been looking into something for a while and mentioned she had something of a breakthrough earlier today. I bet she’s still in the lab right now.”

Verso doubted anyone besides Monoco and Esquie believed her. He caught her eye for a moment, and she offered him a small placating smile.

“Seriously?” Monoco said. “Well, I’m keeping it then. I had to go through a lot of trouble to get it after all.”

“Not the best idea, Monoco,” Gustave said. “How about you give it to me and I’ll give it to Lune next time I see her?”

Monoco considered it for a moment, fingers brushing his beard.

“What have you got to trade?” He asked, looking obviously at Gustave’s robotic arm.

“I thought you were into feet?” Sciel asked,

He turned to look directly at Sciel.

“I am.”

“Maybe,” Gustave said, “I could make you a robot leg? Eventually?”

Monoco made a show out of considering it, but everyone at the table knew what his answer would be.

“Deal,” Monoco said. “Suckers.”

“Wow! Lucky you, Momo! But the smart one shouldn’t work so much,” Esquie said. “‘ All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy .’”

“Who’s Jack?” Monoco asked.

Verso couldn’t help but shake his head and smile. When he turned back towards the rest of the group, he noticed Maelle looking at him with a smile of her own.

After that initial exchange, the rest of the dinner passed by relatively smoothly, all things considered. He had expected a lot more yelling, a lot more arguments, and a lot more curses thrown his way, but there was very little of that throughout the night.

Things were definitely still awkward, though, and Verso did his best to remain as invisible as possible, focusing mainly on his wine. Whenever Maelle did try to pull him into a conversation, he’d give quick, short answers, but the rest of the table didn’t seem to mind. They were more focused on catching up with themselves. 

Maelle kept teasing Gustave about how quickly he moved in with Sophie while Sciel offered tips on living with a woman. Gustave, for his part, took things in stride and even appreciated Sciel’s advice.

Maelle and Sciel also spoke about how things were shaping up in the outskirts, if the community was growing as they expected, and if there was anything else she could do to help.

Esquie regularly chimed in with advice on every topic, although all his advice took on the form of riddles.

When the conversations hit a lull, Monoco took the opportunity to steal the spotlight. 

He spun a tale about all the trials and tribulations he had gone through to get the item Lune had previously requested. There were some inconsistencies in his story, however, and when Maelle pointed out that the item looked familiar to one of the weapons they saw from the White Nevron Blacksmiths, Monoco folded. He admitted that the Nevrons didn’t even want to fight him, but he forced them into one before he would buy the item.

Verso observed all this from behind his wine glass, feeling like an outsider. His passiveness did allow him to notice how oddly Monoco was behaving, however, which was saying something. 

Throughout the night, Monoco kept giving him strange looks. Granted, Monoco wore a mask, but Verso could tell. He hadn’t had a chance to call Monoco out on it yet, but he figured it was only a matter of time before Monoco told him what was going on.

Once dinner was over and the night started to wind down, he was the first to make an excuse to leave, to which no one, aside from Esquie, opposed.

As he got up to say goodbye, Esquie hugged him, asking him to promise to stop drinking alone and to attend the next dinner. He didn’t make the promises, but hugged him back tightly.

Once released, he looked around at the rest of the table.

Maelle’s face fell for a moment, but she recovered quickly and hugged him. Into his chest, she thanked him for coming and hoped that he at least enjoyed it a little bit.

Sciel nodded at him with a small smile while Gustave raised his wine glass in farewell. 

Monoco was still staring at him oddly. Verso gave him a questioning look, but he didn’t respond. Verso decided to let him be and departed. Once he was out of earshot of the table, however, he heard Monoco’s voice call out to him.

“Verso.”

Verso turned around to look at his old friend.

“I am searching for it,” Monoco said.

“What, exactly, are you searching for?”

"Absolution. And I will find it.”

Verso sighed. Esquie was supposed to be the one who spoke in riddles.

“OK,” Verso said. “Let me know when you do, then.”

That answer seemed to satisfy Monoco, who nodded at him before returning to the rest of the party.

Once he turned onto Main Street, he let out the breath he’d been holding in all night. It’d felt a bit wrong to be there, sitting at that table with them after everything that had happened. Everyone else seemed oblivious to his internal conflict, however. They seemed to enjoy themselves just fine, despite his presence. Dinner had come and gone without anyone trying to kill him, so there was that at least.

And as loath as Verso was to admit it, a small part of him did enjoy the dinner. 

Still going over the night’s events, he was about to head back towards his apartment when he caught sight of the monolith in the corner of his eye. 

Almost unknowingly, he started walking towards it and eventually ended up sitting at the end of the pier.

He looked at the monolith and sighed. 

Here he was again. The same spot where he read his sister’s letter before throwing it into the ocean. The same spot he sat at as all of Lumière was gommaged, as he betrayed them in their moment of triumph. 

He’d stared at the monolith then, too, unable and unwilling to look back. To watch as it happened. Watch as Maelle, Lune, and Sciel, faded away.

The monolith was an anchor for him in that moment, allowing him to focus on the fact that his mother no longer stood atop it instead of the agony and confusion that took hold of those behind him.

His thoughts were interrupted by approaching footsteps, but, just like back then, he didn’t look back. 

A few moments later, Sciel sat down next to Verso. He glanced over at her, confusion and question in his eyes, but she remained silent.

He waited.

When it became clear that she wouldn’t speak first, he turned back towards the monolith.

“Still feels strange,” he said. “Seeing it unmarked.”

“Mmm, I do prefer it this way, though.”

He thought back to her earlier that night at dinner. There was no tension, no discernible anger. Out of everyone, he should’ve expected this from her, but it still unnerved him.

“How do you do it?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“It feels like you’ve moved on so quickly. All of you. Almost as if the Paintress was just a distant memory.”

She looked up at the stars in the sky. They were brighter now that they didn’t have to compete with the branding on the monolith.

“Lumière is used to moving fast,” she said after a while. “When your time is so limited, you kinda have to.”

“Still though. The fact that everyone in this world was created by her. Painted to life. I would’ve thought there’d be a lot more chaos.”

“Did you expect us to crumble once we learned the truth?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he replied. “But you can’t tell me it didn’t faze you at all.”

Sciel turned her attention from the stars to Verso. 

“Of course it did. We're still working through it. Some more than others. But just because the Paintress brought us to life doesn’t mean that our lives have no meaning. That we’d just give ourselves up. We fight to the end.” She smiled. “It’s kind of our thing in case you hadn’t noticed.”

He grunted in response.

“Besides,” she continued, “we already lived under the existence of a god before we learned about your family. Except in that case, we believed our god was evil. That every year, they killed our loved ones and stole another year from us.” She nodded at the monolith. “To go from that, to this, to where we are now? I’d take that any day.”

“I never thought of it that way,” he admitted.

“That’s your problem, Verso. Well, one of ‘em. You never put yourself in someone else’s shoes. Think about things from their perspective.”

He didn’t have a response for that either. For a while, the only sounds they heard were from the waves beneath their feet.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me?” Verso asked eventually. “Why I did it?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Not really.”

“You probably wouldn’t even be able to give me a proper answer anyway, would you?”

“Probably not.”

“Don’t worry, Verso,” she said with a smile. “There’ll be time for that.”

He didn't respond, but they both knew she was right. They sat like that for a while longer. In a messed up way, it was almost like they were back at camp.

Eventually, Sciel moved to stand. He remained where he was.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” Sciel said. Then she turned and began walking away.

“Sciel," he called out, and she paused. "For what little it’s worth, I’m glad that you have more time with him.”

She took a moment before answering.

“Hopefully, one day, I’ll believe you.”