Chapter Text
Everyday, Alhaitham wakes up to Kaveh jostling around. Every morning, he jolts awake to Mehrak’s timed beeps and always ends up kicking Alhaitham’s shins in his hazy morning panic. Alhaitham is so used to this song-and-dance that he doesn’t need his hearing aids or even a glimpse at Kaveh’s lips to hear his disparate whispered apologies.
His first move is usually to grab tighter onto Kaveh, to prevent him from getting up with whatever force he can muster. On lazy mornings, his gambit works. Kaveh will always acquiesce and settle back against Alhaitham's side, nestled in the crook of his arm. On mornings where Kaveh has to work though, there'll be a chaste kiss pressed to Alhaitham’s forehead and a struggle on his way out of bed, and Alhaitham’s arms. Only after Kaveh gets into the shower does Alhaitham slowly sit up and start their morning routine. This is what Alhaitham's used to, a routine crafted together from decades of co-habitation.
Today though, rather than the quiet, if slightly violent, kicks he’s used to, he’s woken up by a push that almost sends him flying off the bed. When he carefully opens his eyes, all pretense of sleep lost, he sees Kaveh sitting bolt-upright on their bed, frozen in shock. As he starts to get up, Kaveh starts to talk, or lecture, or whatever it is to describe what Kaveh does when his face gets all red and he starts to gesticulate wildly with his hands. He only catches slight whispers of what Kaveh's been saying, only processing that it's more vitriolic than anything he's heard in a while.
Alhaitham just holds up one finger, not particularly awake enough to understand what’s going on even if it's all garbled up anyway, and reaches for their nightstand to put in his hearing aids. The first thing he notices afterwards is that Mehrak is still beeping—which is definitely weird, because Kaveh always snoozes her as soon as he can. It's a bad habit, because he always snoozes her instead of shutting off the alarm even when he gets up, so Alhaitham is always treated to another round of beeps and a shriek from the shower as he prepares their morning coffee. And if it’s a lazy morning, he can expect another round of panicked frenzy.
The next thing he notices is that Kaveh’s still going a mile a minute, “—don’t know what I expected. I don’t know what I thought. I… You seemed genuine. You felt like you actually cared. But I knew deep down that this was just some…pity party, or a social experiment. What the hell am I doing here?”
Maybe earlier in life, Alhaitham would've taken this to heart. Back when even he wasn't entirely sure why he'd so freely given his home back to Kaveh. But he and Kaveh have had so many conversations on this topic, so many moments where Alhaitham has sat and taken in all of Kaveh's insecurities and stressors and his only consolation was his very presence.
But it seems that this Kaveh has no recollection of all this. That is what stings most. It barely fazes him that Kaveh has expressed such anger, only that this should all have been in the past. Decades past.
When Kaveh pauses for breath, Alhaitham takes the opportunity to interject with, “Kaveh. Why’s Mehrak still on?”
Kaveh immediately frowns, and it's like there's a ping in Alhaitham's head. He asks, “Is that what the beeping is?”
Alhaitham looks up to where she’s perched on her charging stand across the room and says, “Mehrak, stop the alarm. Come over here, please.” The beeping is bookended by one of her chirps and she hovers over, settling by Kaveh’s side like normal. Alhaitham adds, “Initiate scan.”
The response he's used to is, “Haitham, this really isn't necessary.” It's usually followed up with an insistent beep on Mehrak's scan, as if in direct reply. It's never anything major, but it is always something to note, something that could escalate if not looked into.
Now Kaveh's fretting is only mildly amusing because the fretting comes from a place of genuine worry and fear that Alhaitham hasn't seen in years. Now, he hears, “What are you doing to me, what is this thing?”
Mehrak projects a normal report, and Alhaitham grasps onto Kaveh’s cheek and leans in, squinting to search his face as if there’ll be some miniscule difference that explains Kaveh’s complete memory loss.
He thought he should be more prepared for such a concept. Both their jobs and hobbies keep them active, mentally and physically, but they've talked a bit about what more age can take from them. Alhaitham himself has dabbled in language processing research, and he's all too familiar with memory disorders, the neurons firing less rapidly, brain cells steadily dying off.
But this isn't that. It's some combination of intuition, the sheen of his Vision on their bedside, and the elemental sight he effortlessly slips into. There is something different, less…complete about the Kaveh in front of him.
Immediately, Kaveh shoves his arm away, and Alhaitham catches his eyes widen in fear. Before Kaveh can say anything, mouth already opening to shout, Alhaitham says, “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Kaveh humphs in a very familiar way and starts to say, “What kind of stupid question is that?” before Alhaitham interrupts him. “Kaveh, I’m serious. What’s the last thing you remember?”
Kaveh looks around, seemingly to centre himself, and finally says, “You invited me to stay with you after I used up all my savings. I just moved in yesterday, but I clearly remember not sleeping in the same room as you. I…” He trails off naturally, as if he’s preparing himself to say something scathing, like he did back when they hadn’t settled into anything concrete.
Instead, with a mask of calmness that anybody worth their salt could see through, Kaveh asks, “Since when have you…had a beard?”
Neither of them had even left the house yesterday, so he doesn’t think there could’ve been the influence of a domain or ley line blossoms in the physical sense. But ley lines are inextricably connected to memories, and that seems to be what’s wrong with Kaveh, because other than 25 years’ worth of lost memories, everything else about him seems the same. There were still the same wrinkles around his eyes and his roots were already beginning to show as white after he previously got it colored. So his body couldn’t have been affected, it was just his memories.
Kaveh doesn’t seem to yet realise how his memories don’t fit the reality of their present. In the light outside, he’ll probably notice more than the obvious beard, and start to pick up that his memory is simply not from this time. Whether this is a problem with the ley lines, or something more drastic and strange, all Alhaitham knows is that he needs to start running damage control.
“Listen, you should go take a shower.” He breezes past the startled “What?” that Kaveh lets out and continues, “I’ll lay out your clothes for you here. Take Mehrak, she’ll help you figure this out. She was, in part, designed for this purpose.”
Kaveh starts spluttering and arguing with him, and Alhaitham only continues to stare at him passively, and reiterate his point whenever Kaveh stops for breath. He expands to include, “You need to accept what’s happened and that isn’t going to happen with me in the room. I will fix this, Kaveh.”
The lack of any cohesive back-and-forth is like a brick wall to Kaveh, so he eventually relents and grabs onto the handle that Mehrak has been offering by his side, and walks off towards their bathroom, only realising halfway there that's he's having a much harder time walking than he would otherwise. By then, Alhaitham has already made his escape into their closet, looking for clothes that a much younger Kaveh would prefer to wear.
When he places them on their bedside table, alongside a towel and Kaveh’s glasses, he hears a loud shriek from inside and swiftly decides to continue to let Mehrak handle it. Kaveh must have finally seen what he actually looks like. Not that he’s now hideous or anything, it’s just a…big change. He scoffs, that’s putting it mildly. 25 years condensed into a single morning.
He knows Kaveh, knows that he needs his own time to adjust to what reality’s suddenly become for him, and that Alhaitham’s presence, from this time, will only overwhelm him. Mehrak was designed to help Kaveh, no matter what the crisis, so he knows that she will do what he cannot, even if Kaveh himself doesn’t know it. Alhaitham manages to busy himself in the kitchen, slicing peaches and roasting coffee as he waits for Kaveh.
It takes Kaveh a comically long time to emerge from their bedroom, in which time Alhaitham has already taken it upon himself to clear both their schedules that day. This already feels like an all-day affair.
He’s also sent a notice to Nahida through one of the birds always perched on their windowsill that he’ll need a meeting with her, preferably in just a few hours, and quietly delights in how the Wanderer will have to last-minute schedule things around them.
No matter what they’re going through, he keeps asserting to himself that Nahida will know what to do. She’s talked of her responsibilities in the past, back when they were still new and she jumped at the chance to do what she was meant to after years of isolation. He knows she’s the caretaker of Irminsul, the great tree of memories and where all ley lines rest. If anyone can help with Kaveh’s new…affliction, it has to be her.
Kaveh is still holding onto Mehrak, who’s transformed herself into a walking stick for his ease of use. He places her gingerly against the counter and looks up at Alhaitham, who wordlessly passes him his bowl of peaches. He’s not wearing his glasses, Alhaitham notes.
Kaveh stares shamelessly at his face, now that he has a good look at it, and can see the way 25 years have changed Alhaitham. Though Alhaitham himself has never particularly cared for this, he doesn’t like to waste energy on thinking about what's changed, Kaveh does. Kaveh routinely traces his hands over Alhaitham’s wrinkles, almost as if he’s pressing them further into his skin. Kaveh will specifically target his crow’s feet when peppering his face with kisses, and Alhaitham will indulge him.
Though Alhaitham would also be lying if he said that Kaveh and his affections were not the reason for him growing out a beard.
The Kaveh in front of him does not seem particularly happy seeing the changes time has wrought on both of them. This sends a pang of disappointment through Alhaitham, though if asked, he might not have been able to vocalise why.
Kaveh reaches for a slice carefully, like his hand will wither away into dust. It’s enough to make Alhaitham scoff. Kaveh looks back at him, clearly affronted, but despite that, he stays quiet.
Alhaitham takes a sip of his coffee before he asks, “Kaveh, do you not have any questions?”
Kaveh clumsily sits on the nearest stool, like the body he’s in is a foreign entity. Which it is, but also isn’t. Alhaitham briefly thinks how he would react if he was forced into a similar situation, and then immediately tosses the possibility aside. He gets crabby enough if he’s wearing the wrong texture, he doesn’t know how he would feel about having an entirely older body forced upon him, one that he didn’t grow up with slowly.
He knows Kaveh can accept it, that he will shoulder through on pure stubbornness and spite, even with Alhaitham and Mehrak’s help. And he will complain, because that helps him compartmentalise, and lets him argue when Alhaitham inevitably brings up something to counter his points.
Kaveh finally manages to say, “So…Uh, how old are we?”
Alhaitham manages to say as calmly as he can, “You’re 52. I just turned 50.”
Mehrak is there to steady Kaveh when he lists to the side in shock, and Alhaitham waits for him to jolt back to reality, whether it’s to yell at him for “obvious lies” or to complain over the first thing he notices.
Kaveh does neither, instead, he looks bug-eyed from Mehrak to Alhaitham, finally noticing his presence. “And what is…she?”
Ok, still easy questions. “She’s a briefcase you designed with scraps of Deshret tech you found in the desert. You designed her a few years after we started living together. Over the years, she became more of an all-purpose mobility aid.” Then, quieter, he adds, “Her name’s Mehrak.”
“Mehrak,” Kaveh sounds the name out. His unfamiliarity is so tonally dissonant from the voice he’s used to, one that talks about Mehrak like she’s a surrogate daughter.
Alhaitham decides to voice this. “You’re being surprisingly level-headed about all this.”
Kaveh snaps, “What am I supposed to do? Freak out because I went to sleep and woke up 25 years later married to you?”
“We never got married,” Alhaitham corrects. “You made us hold a ceremony, and accepted my ring, but we didn’t get married.” His tone sounds accusing, but Alhaitham doesn’t mean for it to come out that way. He doesn’t particularly mind what he has to do, as long as he gets to stay by Kaveh’s side. Not that he particularly understands Kaveh’s insistence against marriage, notably the tax benefits, but who is he to judge?
Kaveh grouses, “Oh, because that makes it so much better.”
Alhaitham frowns. He has to accept that Kaveh’s judgement is warranted, at some point he genuinely thought Alhaitham didn’t care about him. Though how he could think that, Alhaitham’s still not quite sure, even after Kaveh has tried his level best to explain his state of mind back then.
There’s a lull of silence where Kaveh actually sits and starts eating the peach slices in front of him. He must be too tired to continue arguing, so Alhaitham takes it upon himself to lay everything out as best as he can. “As far as I can understand, your memories of the past 25 years have disappeared. I’m not sure why either, before you ask. We’ll head out after I’m ready, in an hour. Take the time to decompress, I’ll prepare breakfast before we leave.”
Alhaitham lets Kaveh slowly and visibly rack his brain until he decides on a question to ask, “Where are we going?”
That causes him to pause.
25 years ago. Nahida was still being held by the sages. This Kaveh has not met the Lesser Lord Kusanali before (though she would probably kill him if he calls her that to her face again).
They’ve had the pleasure of watching Nahida grow up over the years. She’s become much more assured, building on that calm maturity she’d always seemed to possess. Now she spends her days fielding questions from the Grand Sage, hanging out with that miserable Wanderer, and only making public appearances when absolutely necessary.
Strangely enough, she’s also become something of a broody teen. He doesn’t know whether to attribute it to simply Nahida growing up, or the influence that her friend seems to have on her.
The first time Kaveh met her was already an amazing thing to witness. He wasn’t even able to believe that Alhaitham was elected as an (Acting) Grand Sage, that it took him too long to realise just who he was talking to when he was first introduced to Nahida. Nahida was actually the one to initiate their meeting, as she’d always enjoyed learning about Kaveh through the network, then Alhaitham’s disparate comments. Watching his face turn as he realised that a little kid knew much more about his life than he’d ever thought was permissible, and then realise just who that little kid was—a memory Alhaitham will forever cherish.
He’d be remiss to not allow the same thing to happen again.
So he smiles coyly, the way he knows frustrates Kaveh to no end, and says, “I know someone who should be able to help with your situation. Be ready by then, ok?” He pauses for a second, then adds, “And please do wear your glasses, dear.”
He then drains his coffee and walks out of the kitchen, ignoring whatever Kaveh said behind him.