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When they finish going through the pods and helping the trapped Burnish out of them, they get back to the fire station and climb on its roof to get a better look of the city (or what’s left of it). The fire department itself isn’t that tall of a building, but now when most of the city is in pieces, one can see quite far from the roof. They’re met with collapsed apartment houses, ruptured streets and dark clouds gathering over their heads.
“Looks… bad,” Aina says, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. Lio, standing next to her, can’t help but agree.
“We’ll get everything fixed,” Galo assures, giving Aina a big smile when she looks doubtful.
“There’s a lot to do.”
“Sure. It’ll take time for everything to be back to normal, but eventually we’ll have something way much better than before!” Galo says and Lio rolls his eyes. He’s not used to Galo’s overflowing positivity, not yet, but it does make him smile. Lio’s way of living made him a pessimist, and he knows he has to work on that (truth to be told, he has a lot of things to work on, like how he’s supposed to deal with the invisible hands wrapping around his neck and suffocating him, and how to ignore the sudden silence inside his head).
A strong gust of wind sweeps over them and they take a step back when Ignis yells at them for being too close to the edge. There’s a safety railing going around the roof, but no one has had time to check if it’s damaged like the rest of the city. Lio pulls the Burning Rescue jacket he was gifted earlier tighter around himself, trying to use it as a shield against the wind. Ever since his Promare left, Lio has been constantly cold and he’s finding it hard to get used to. He’s exhausted in a way he has never been before, unable to keep his emotions and thoughts in check (he lost his composure earlier when they opened the very last pod and found only ashes inside it, and Lio hates himself for getting so angry over it. He’s grateful for Meis and Gueira being there, physically forcing him to calm down, because if they hadn’t held him Lio isn’t sure what he would have done, considering the state of mind he was in.)
“We should get inside. Looks like it’s gonna rain soon,” Aina says, shivering when the wind picks up. The mention of rain makes them move, most of the rescue team trying to fit under the small roof built over the door Ignis is struggling to unlock. The first drops of water are already dotting the roof when he manages to pull the door open, laughing when way too many people try to squeeze themselves through it at once.
Gueira is already at the door when he takes a look over his shoulder and stops abruptly, both Meis and Galo bumping into him.
“Boss?”
Lio is standing under the rain, his hand held out, collecting droplets on his palm. At first he seems to be too mesmerized to have heard Gueira calling him but then he looks up, the expression on his face more puzzled than anything else.
“It feels different.”
“Huh?”
“The rain. It… it doesn’t evaporate.”
Galo scrunches his brows in confusion, not understanding what Lio is talking about, but Gueira and Meis seem to understand immediately. They copy Lio, seemingly in awe at raindrops falling on their hands. Galo finds it a little bit amusing but he doesn’t say anything, holding back his laugh when the speechless trio meets eyes, identical bewilderment spread on their faces.
“We should get inside. You’re gonna get sick if you stay in the rain too long,” Galo says after a moment, feeling bad for pulling the trio out of their own bubble. His words make Gueira and Meis realize they’re basically drenched, and before they run inside they tell Lio it’s his fault if they get sick, and Lio laughs at them.
When Gueira and Meis turn their backs the smile drops from Lio’s face quickly, and Galo tries to hide how seeing that makes worry bloom inside him.
-/-
Lio working hard for his people doesn’t come as a surprise to Galo. He’s kind-hearted and tired of seeing them getting mistreated and hurt. Before they practically saved the world, everything Lio did was to help the Burnish and provide them a better life. He’s determined to give that to them even now, and Galo admires him for it: Lio helps in the numerous shelters, shoulders every legal charge thrown at Mad Burnish (and gets drowned in paperwork because of it) and pays visits to the hospital to talk with those who are still injured, making sure they’re getting the treatment they should.
The thing is, Lio doesn’t seem to sleep or eat. In the past weeks he has spent some nights in Galo’s apartment, insisting on sleeping on the couch no matter how hard Galo tries to offer the bed to him. When Lio stays over, Galo leaves the bedroom door open just in case, but when his alarm wakes him up, Lio is already gone.
Lio has dark-purple circles under his eyes, countless cups of coffee and chocolate helping him through his days. Galo isn’t going to deny being worried.
So after a shift-change at midnight Galo looks around the fire department for Lio like almost every night in the past two and a half weeks, eventually finding him in the kitchen. He’s hunched over one of the desks, stacks of paperwork around him. He doesn’t greet Galo when he walks to him, but Galo knows he’s aware of his presence.
“My shift’s done,” he says, watching how Lio twirls a pen between his fingers. He acknowledges Galo’s words with a hum, eyes scanning the document in front of him. There’s a half-empty cup of coffee next to him that looks like it has gone cold hours ago, accompanied with three empty chocolate bar wrappers. Galo frowns. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes,” Lio says, pointing at the wrappers with his pen.
“That ain’t what I meant.”
“It’s good,” Lio says, matter-of-factly. Galo crosses his arms, not happy with what he’s hearing.
“Yeah, maybe, but when was the last time you ate like… proper food?”
“I had pizza with you guys last night,” Lio reminds him, shooting an annoyed glance his way.
“Okay, we both know pizza is the food of heroes but it’s not exactly healthy,” Galo says with a sigh, taking a chair and sitting on the other side of Lio’s table. “Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve eaten in the past few days? Pizza and chocolate?”
Lio shrugs, not saying anything. He’s not meeting Galo’s questioning gaze although he can definitely feel it. Galo lets out a frustrated sigh, the silence between them stretching out. Lio reaches for a new stack of papers, unfazed by Galo's piercing stare.
“Okay firefly, now I know!” Galo announces loudly after a few minutes of heavy silence. Lio jumps in surprise, almost knocking down his coffee cup. “We are gonna go to my place and make some real food for you to eat! You won’t have energy to do all of… that if you eat nothing but unhealthy stuff,” Galo says, pointing at the papers. Lio’s eyes follow him as he bounces up, suddenly full of buzzing energy. “C’mon!”
Lio blinks.
“What did you just call me?” Galo tilts his head in confusion, rewinding over his previous words. His mind reaches the beginning of his monologue and he feels his face heating up. The nickname had just slipped out without him noticing, and the flat look Lio is giving him isn’t exactly helping.
“Wha- I- You don’t like it?” Galo knows he’s not really answering Lio’s question (and he definitely shouldn’t answer it with a question of his own because he knows it irks Lio to no end), but it’s the best possible reply he can come up with. It feels like his heart is drumming its way out of his chest as he watches Lio’s expression change into a perplexed confusion.
“It’s-”, he starts, clears his throat and looks away, a faint shade of pink blooming on his cheeks. “It’s whatever.”
“Great!” Galo exclaims, grabs a few stacks of Lio’s papers and runs to the kitchen door. “Hurry up, then, I’m getting hungry!”
Lio shakes his head with a sigh, but there’s a tiny smile on his lips that Galo takes as a victory. He waits for Lio to gather the rest of his belongings and they leave the fire department together, waving their goodbyes to those starting their shift.
They stop at the 24/7 corner store near Galo’s apartment to get ingredients (Galo lets Lio buy more chocolate, but only after making him promise he won’t treat them as a meal anymore). The apartment building Galo lives in is quiet around them when they climb to the second floor and Galo unlocks the door to his home, letting Lio in first.
“I think it would be fair to tell you that I don’t know how to cook,” Lio says when they get to the kitchen and Galo unpacks their grocery bag on the counter. He sounds a little ashamed, but Galo pretends he doesn’t hear it.
“That’s alright! I’m not a chef either.”
“No, I mean… I really do not know.”
Galo turns to look at him, frowning, finding Lio avoiding his gaze. He’s pulling the sleeves of his sweater over his hands - probably a nervous tick he doesn’t realize he’s doing, and Galo won’t point it out - and biting his lip, like admitting he doesn’t know how to do something was embarrassing.
“Let me show you,” Galo says, not missing the honestly surprised look in Lio’s eyes when he grabs his wrist and pulls him closer to the counter holding the ingredients for their meal. “This is something super quick and easy. My mom used to make it to me when I was small.”
-/-
Although their days at the fire station are less busy now when they don’t have to deal with Burnish fires every day, Galo still can’t seem to get a chance to have his lunch break before 10pm when he’s doing the night shift (it’s mostly his fault, because he might spend hours outside with Lucia trying out her newest inventions or chatting with Aina in the break room without paying attention to the time). He prays the alarm won’t go off when he officially starts his lunch break, looking around the station for Lio - he was in the kitchen just an hour ago, hunched over one of the tables and going through endless stacks of documents no one else really understood anything of.
Galo’s plan is to distract Lio from his work for half an hour and make sure he’s eating something else than sweets. Having lunch or late-night dinner together has become a routine for them, and although Lio usually gets a little frustrated with him and tells Galo he isn’t his mom (he smiles when he says it, so Galo doesn’t take it personally), seeing him having a proper meal eases the heavy weight in Galo’s chest.
He doesn’t find Lio in the kitchen, and he aimlessly wanders around the fire station, peeking into different rooms before Lucia tells him she saw Lio getting on the roof some time ago. Galo thanks her and heads upstairs, a gentle wind chilly on his face when he opens the door to the roof.
It’s in the middle of the night and more than half of the streetlights are still broken, so a bright spot of light catches Galo’s eyes, freezing him on the threshold.
Lio is leaning against the safety railing, wearing that FDPP jacket Ignis gave him on the first days of reconstruction so he wouldn’t get cold (it’s a spare one and around Galo’s size, swallowing Lio and making him look a lot smaller than he really is). It looks like he’s holding a single flame, but Galo knows that’s not possible anymore; the flame flickers and goes out, and then reappears again with a faint click.
The thing is that Lio still has some fire inside him. Every now and then it’s dancing in his eyes, painting his features and flaring up. It’s not hot or cold anymore, and it probably isn’t hurting anyone else than Lio himself. It doesn’t have a shape and most of the time he can’t control it, at least not like he used to, and it seemingly frustrates him. When there are sparks that Lio struggles with, Galo wishes he could do something to help him, but a part of him is afraid of getting caught in the fire.
Galo watches Lio click the lighter in his hand, igniting a flame. It’s swaying in the wind but doesn’t get blown out, Lio’s eyes fixed on its movements. He has taken his gloves off and he hovers his fingertips over the fire, hesitating for a brief moment that feels like an eternity. Then his middle finger touches the flame and he pulls his hand back with a tiny hiss. He still doesn’t kill the flame and instead goes for it again, this time with the tip of his index finger. He manages to touch the fire a little longer than before but eventually his instincts kick in, forcing him to curl his hand away.
“You shouldn’t play with fire here.” Lio jumps in surprise and the lighter slips from his hold, falling on the concrete with a metallic clink. He meets Galo’s eyes and for the first time ever Galo sees fear in them.
It breaks his heart.
“Wouldn’t this be the safest place? You’d be here fast to extinguish it,” Lio says, crossing his arms. Galo picks the lighter up but doesn’t give it back to Lio. It’s a simple one, silver without anything written on it, and still warm to touch.
“Where did you get this?”
“Gueira and Meis gave it to me,” Lio explains. “They’ve picked up smoking. I tried it too, but the taste’s too awful.”
“It should be, smoking is unhealthy.”
“It helps them cope,” Lio says, his voice silent. He leans against the railing again, avoiding Galo’s gaze. Galo mirrors his actions, watching him stare at the distance.
“Cope?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.” Lio looks at him with a frown, but it’s not anger: it’s more like a mix of confusion and exhaustion and something Galo can’t quite put his finger on. Lio sighs and shifts his gaze, trying to find words. Galo gives him time.
“It’s so quiet now. Quiet and cold,” Lio says after a moment of silence. “I was fairly young when I became Burnish, and I got so used to the voices and warmth. I obviously can’t speak for others, and I know there are Burnish who are happy they don’t have to listen to the Promare anymore, but for me… it was reassuring. Everything about it felt good, all the fire and smoke and heat. You’d get hooked on it, and burning more and creating more flames felt the most natural thing to do.”
Lio pulls the sleeves of his jacket over his hands, covering them from the chilly night air. Galo knows Lio has had a hard time getting used to the temperature now that he’s unable to keep himself warm. He hasn’t said anything - Lio doesn’t complain, not even when he should - but Galo has noticed.
“Adjusting has been difficult, and I’m not talking just about myself. Hell, I had it easy. There are people who were tortured over and over again, and now they have to live with the memories and scars. That’s- that’s not fair.”
“Lio, you almost died.”
“So did many of them,” Lio says, his voice stern. He straightens his back and holds his hand out, wordlessly telling Galo he doesn’t want to dive deeper into that conversation. “Can I have my lighter back.”
It’s an order, not a question. It carries a heavy shadow that leaves a bad aftertaste in Lio’s mouth, and he fights hard so it wouldn’t show on his face. Galo catches it anyway, mostly because to him Lio has always been an equal, not a leader.
“Gueira and Meis wouldn’t be happy to know what you do with it.”
“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”
Instead of giving the lighter back to Lio, Galo takes his left hand and inspects his fingertips. Lio tries to protest, pulling his hand back, but Galo’s hold is stronger. The tips of Lio’s middle and index fingers are red but not blistered, probably still hurting from the fire earlier. Galo is familiar with different kinds of burns - he sees them in his job and has had some personal experience, too - and he can tell this wasn’t the first time Lio has experimented with the lighter. The skin at the tip of his ring finger is peeling off, and when Galo looks further he sees tiny blisters all over Lio’s palm.
“You should get these treated.”
“I’m fine.”
“They can get infected. I don’t want you to be in more pain-”
“Galo, it’s fine.” Lio’s tone is assertive, almost annoyed, but Galo can still see the specks of fear dancing around his irises. He pulls his hand from Galo’s hold and puts his gloves on before asking Galo for his lighter again.
With a sigh Galo gives the lighter back, helplessly watching Lio slipping it into a pocket of his jacket.
-/-
The construction of one of the apartment buildings for homeless ex-Burnish got finished a week ago, and although there definitely is a need for another building, everyone having a proper roof over their heads helps a little with the weight in Lio’s chest (it’s made of guilt and responsibility, and it keeps growing). He helped with the plans for the first building, visiting the construction site every now and then to make sure his people were getting what they were promised.
The site manager in charge of the Burnish buildings’s construction is one of the greatest people Lio has met after the disaster. He’s a man in his late 40s, built like a tank and extremely laid-back. He always greets Lio with a slap on his back that makes his knees buckle and he hasn’t said one negative word about him or Burnish in general. Lio doesn’t know his story, and they will never get close enough for him to hear it, so Lio assumes he’s just happy he won’t be out of work in the near future.
He’s the one showing Lio around the construction site two days into building the new apartment complex, accompanied with some workers new to the construction team. The site manager keeps assuring Lio that everything is going according to plan, and Lio has to admit he doesn’t feel as worried as he did when they were working on the first building - this time he can be sure the construction will be finished in a timely manner (he was doubtful for a reason, and the site manager didn’t blame him for it).
“Everything’s basically what we did with the first building, so I’m convinced there won’t be any major problems,” he muses, giving Lio a confident smile.
“I’m glad,” Lio says, and he means it. It’s refreshing when he doesn’t have to fight for his people’s safety and comfort, and actually gets supported in trying to protect them. His words make the site manager’s smile get bigger, and he’s about to say something when his phone starts ringing. He checks the phone’s screen and looks a little annoyed, excusing himself as he takes the call and walks out of earshot.
One of the construction workers lights a cigarette while they wait for the site manager, and Lio doesn’t mind the smell of smoke. He closes his eyes and enjoys how the sun feels warm on his face (it’s been raining a lot lately, the temperatures steadily dropping as well, and fighting against the cold hasn’t been easy).
He’s pulled out of his bubble of sunlight when a hushed conversation reaches his ears.
“...working on this is against my morals already, do they really have to bring Burnish to the site?”
“Wasn’t he part of the terrorist group?”
“I think he was the leader!”
“The one who destroyed the whole city, huh? He should have just led himself and the rest of the scum straight to-”
The edges of Lio’s vision go blurry, and he acts before thinking. He grabs the worker with the loudest voice and the man finds himself tackled to the ground before he manages to finish his sentence. Lio knows not to hurt him - most of the citizens already think he’s on thin ice, and one mistake could send him straight to confinement - but he has practiced enough self defence to be able to throw a man double his size down without causing any bodily injury.
The look on the man’s face is violated and angry, but instead of making him scared, seeing it just irritates Lio (what he is scared of, however, is how quickly he lost his composure again, acting on an impulse that wiped his head empty and made him see red). The man stumbles awkwardly on his feet, his shaking hands closing into fists as he sheets with rage.
He takes a step towards Lio, but retreats quickly when he sees the site manager coming back, putting his phone away. He probably senses the tense atmosphere and his eyes travel from his mildly shaken up workers to Lio, a question already half-formed on his tongue.
“Thank you for the tour, manager,” Lio interrupts him, mentally congratulating himself for sounding somewhat calm. “I think I’ve seen enough.”
Lio turns and leaves, barely holding himself together until he turns a corner and knows no one from the construction site can see him. His entire body is shaking and he feels sick, his throat narrowing down as he tries to swallow down the hot tears gathering in his eyes. He’s standing on a public street, painfully aware how in display he is, and the thought of someone seeing him like this is mortifying. He pulls himself together - not perfectly, knowing his anger and disdain towards himself are written all over his face - his heartbeats echoing painfully in his chest.
He suspects he’s still carrying some uneasiness on himself when a few hours later he knocks on the door of Meis and Gueira’s apartment and Gueira gives him a weird look when letting him in.
“Long day,” he mumbles before Gueira even asks anything, kicking his shoes off and wandering into the apartment.
Gueira and Meis moved in only a week ago, and Lio is surprised to see how clean and organized the apartment looks. Like most Burnish, they don’t have a lot of personal belongings but the place is cozy nevertheless. Some citizens and various charity organizations donated furniture and other necessities to the homeless Burnish, restoring Lio’s faith in humanity. It’s going to take a long time for all of them to get used to this new type of life, and that’s why Lio keeps fighting - he wants all of them to finally feel safe.
Meis is sitting on the couch in front of the TV, his long hair pulled back into a ponytail - a rare occurrence, since he usually prefers to cover his right eye with his hair. He’s told Lio it’s because he has had problems with the eye since childhood, and even as a Burnish when the rest of his body was able to regenerate and heal, the eye never got better or started working like the other. Unstable vision wasn’t exactly what he desired while avoiding Freeze Force, and covering the bad eye helped.
Lio plops down next to him, sparing a glance at the romantic comedy on the TV before deciding it’s something he’s not interested in.
“Your hair’s different.”
“We were cleaning earlier and it was on the way.”
“It looks nice,” Lio says, finding himself enjoying how the sudden compliment brings a light blush on Meis’ face.
“Thank you,” he says quickly, trying to look nonchalant as Gueira joins them, squeezing himself next to Lio on the tiny couch. Lio doesn’t mind the proximity since it’s something they’re used to: it’s comforting and familiar, and having them physically there soothes some of the anxiety that has been nesting inside Lio for a while now (it also keeps them warm, although none of them will admit they’re cold).
“So,” Gueira starts after a moment of comfortable silence. “How’s it going?”
“I manhandled a rude guy today and it made me feel like shit,” Lio confesses, amazed at how relieved he feels after letting it out.
“If he was being rude he probably deserved it.”
“Did he get hurt?” Meis asks, looking concerned. Lio shakes his head as a no, and the look on Meis’ face softens. “Then I agree with Gueira.”
“Yeah, I guess. I just…,” Lio starts, struggling to find the right words. He rubs his hands over his face, frustrated and tired. “What he said made me think how everything is just my fault.”
He misses how Meis and Gueira share a worried look over his head.
“Nothing is your fault, Boss-”
“It is, though.”
“That’s not tr-”
“Hear me out, okay?” Lio says, a little irritated. Gueira and Meis snap their mouths shut, prompting him to keep talking. “We fucked the whole city up, right? People lost their homes, their jobs, even their loved ones… We did save most of the Burnish which is a good thing, obviously, but I never wanted anyone to die. I never wanted to destroy this city and cause more trouble than I already had at that point. And it’s making me think how I should’ve… protected all of you better. Like, maybe, give myself up instead of making everyone suffer.”
“That’s insane, Boss,” Gueira says, unable to hide how horrified Lio’s words are making him, and Lio is too worked up to tell him not to call him boss anymore.
“Is it, though? Back then Kray told me I was powerful enough to act as the engine’s core and restart the whole thing. Maybe I could’ve also been strong enough to handle it by myself from the beginning? I could have negotiated a deal and all of you would’ve been safe and none of this would have happened.”
“It would have killed you.”
“Probably, but maybe it would have been enough for them to get through the warp.”
“Listen,” Meis says, his tone unusually strict. He shifts on the couch so he’s properly facing Lio, locking eyes with him. “Even if you would have done that, I’m sure they would have found a way to use the rest of us. They wouldn’t have told you, of course, and that’s because Kray Foresight is not an honest person. All he wanted was to hurt us, and trying to stop him was the right thing to do.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Gueira adds, serious yet less stern than Meis. Lio’s breathing is ragged, and he feels exhausted from voicing out everything he’s collected in the dark corners of his mind. Gueira notices how Lio’s hands are shaking and he takes one of them, intertwining their fingers, his touch gentle and reassuring.
“I just feel so damn guilty,” Lio whispers, biting back tears. Meis puts an arm around him and pulls him closer, and Lio rests his head on his shoulder with a deep sigh. “Sometimes I think it would’ve been better for everyone if Galo hadn’t gotten me out of that engine in time.”
It took Lio several weeks to tell Meis and Gueira what actually had happened in the core: how his flames had protected Galo against Kray Foresight, and how Galo had used those flames to save him when he was already turning into ashes. Lio doesn’t remember much of it himself, the torture his mind and body had to go through when he was trapped in that engine too overwhelming for his brain. He has talked about it with Galo for hours, Galo filling the gaps in his memory and holding him when it brings back some of the pain his mind has tried to hide away.
He really didn’t want to tell Gueira and Meis about it because he knew he would break down (and he hates being weak in front of them, even after everything), but they had the right to know.
“Don’t say that,” Gueira says, his hold of Lio’s hand tightening.
“I’m sorry,” Lio mumbles, squeezing Gueira’s hand to tell him he’s about to crush his fingers. Gueira loosens his hold and runs a thumb over the back of Lio’s hand as an apology. “Everything’s so overwhelming, but at the same time I feel... kind of empty.”
“Yeah, sounds familiar,” Meis mumbles, his fingers aimlessly combing through Lio’s hair. It makes Lio feel weird, but in a good way: like the world’s tiniest fireworks were going off inside him. It’s strange and hard to ignore, and Lio will indulge in it later when he’s alone. “Have you done anything to treat it? The emptiness.”
Lio thinks of the lighter he keeps in the pocket of his jacket, his fingertips itching. He can still see the sadness and disappointment in Galo’s eyes when he inspected the tiny burns scattered all over Lio’s hand, counting them quietly. What Galo doesn’t know is that seeing and feeling the fire even for a moment brings Lio back alive, unwrapping the freezing cold holding onto him. Lio knows it doesn’t really help, not in the long run anyway, and that’s why he tells Meis all he needs is time (and the two of them, but that’s not what he says out loud, not even when he’s about to fall asleep on the couch and feels the soft kisses pressed over his knuckles and on the top of his head).
-/-
Everyone in the Burning Rescue is used to Lio’s presence by now: on most days he’s sitting at one of the kitchen tables - sometimes alone, sometimes with Meis and Gueira - surrounded by stacks of papers and chocolate wrappers, a cup of coffee in his hand. Lately it hasn’t been just Galo who’s joined him during their lunch break, and especially after their little night out a week ago they’ve had lunch as a big group in the kitchen.
Galo has been bringing extra food with him to make sure Lio eats something else than just sweets, and when a few days ago Lio actually brought a proper lunch with him for the first time, Galo felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
“I’m starving,” Aina whines as their lunch break rolls around. It’s late afternoon and they returned from a job just a moment ago (it was a false alarm, luckily, but it also meant they couldn’t have their break on its usual time).
“Me too,” Galo says, his stomach growling. They get into the kitchen but stop at the doorway abruptly, Lucia focused on writing something on her phone and walking straight into Galo’s back.
Lio has fallen asleep at his usual table, accompanied by his documents, candy wrappers and an empty coffee cup placed dangerously close to the edge of the table. It’s the first time Galo has actually seen Lio sleep (he doesn’t count the time when Lio was disappearing in front of him, his eyes closed and lips cold to touch), and he considers turning away and finding them another lunch spot just so Lio could have his rest.
“He’s looked really tired lately,” Lucia says, her tone worried.
“He’s looked really tired ever since shit went down,” Aina adds.
“That’s true. I don’t think he meant to fall asleep here, though? He has all his work stuff out and everything.”
“Should I wake him up?” Galo ponders. Aina and Lucia nod in unison, so Galo walks to Lio’s table and places a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Lio-”
Galo’s brain can’t keep up with what happens next. Lio has his fingers wrapped around Galo’s wrist in a blink of an eye, twisting his arm in an angle that forces Galo on his knees. He lets out a yelp of pain, and that seems to make Lio realize where he is and what he’s doing: his eyes focus and he lets go of Galo’s arm like it had given him an electric shock.
“Oh my god, Galo, wha-! Shit, I’m so, so sorry,” he’s rambling when he kneels next to Galo, hesitatingly reaching for Galo’s wrist before pulling his hands back, almost like he was mentally scolding himself. “Did I hurt you? Oh my god, please tell me you aren’t hurt, I’m so fucking sorry, I just- old habits die hard, I guess? I could have broken your arm, I’m so sorry-”
“Hey,” Galo says, recognizing the signs of an oncoming panic attack when he looks at Lio’s shaking hands and labored breathing. He takes Lio by his wrists, effectively drawing his wandering attention to himself. “I’m not hurt.”
Tears gather in Lio’s eyes, falling down before he has a chance to stop them. “I’m s-so sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Galo says and pulls him into a hug, meeting eyes with Aina and Lucia who are still standing at the kitchen door. He doesn’t have to say anything for them to give him a nod and turn on their heels, leaving the two of them alone in the kitchen.
It takes a few minutes for Lio to calm down, and Galo gives him all the time he needs. He doesn’t say anything until Lio sits back, drying his face with his hands, avoiding Galo’s gaze.
“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, Lio.”
“No, don’t apologize, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep here in the first place,” Lio says with a sigh, sounding exhausted. “I just… I haven’t been sleeping well in ages and it’s getting to me.”
“Have you thought about seeing a doctor about it?” Lio looks legitimely puzzled for a second before he lets out a small laugh, shaking his head.
“I can’t just walk to a doctor’s office, Galo. I might not be a Burnish anymore, but most people still see me as one. I doubt anyone would even agree to see me.”
“You know, there’s this doctor I saw for years when I had nightmares and trouble with sleeping, and she really helped me. I could ask her if she’s willing to see you? Like, no pressure, but just in case,” Galo says, already smiling. Lio looks taken aback, almost confused, and Galo’s smile falters for a moment.
“You… had nightmares?”
“Oh, yeah!” Galo says, relieved that Lio didn’t immediately turn down his suggestion. “You know how I was in that fire when I was young? The one Kray accidentally- well, you know. It was my childhood home, and my parents… they didn’t make it. I saw them in my sleep for years, and the dreams weren’t pretty ones. I had so much guilt over everything and it was… it was hard. It’s still hard sometimes, and I have nightmares every now and then. Not as much as I used to, though. This doctor I told you about, she didn’t just give me meds that’d knock me out at night, but she also helped me to deal with the nightmares and stuff.”
Lio looks at Galo with a slight frown on his face, processing his words. He had no idea Galo’s parents weren’t with them anymore and that Galo had gone through such a terrible chain of traumatic events (Lio feels awful because he knows what that guilt feels like, how soul-crushing it can be, but there’s also a tiny part of him that gets hopeful when he looks at Galo now, giving him a soft smile, his eyes full of life).
“If… if you could talk with this doctor of yours, I’d be really grateful,” Lio says after a moment of silence, his heart aching with something tender and warm when a wide grin spreads on Galo’s face and he bounces on his feet, doing a silly little dance of victory.
“Of course, firefly! I’ll text her right away,” he says, offering a hand to Lio. Lio takes the hand and lets Galo pull him up, laughing when Galo uses too much force and he wobbles, searching for his balance. Galo throws an arm around his shoulders and they fetch their lunches, walking out of the kitchen to see if Aina and Lucia are already done with their break.
“Hey, Galo,” Lio says when they’ve settled down on the little patch of grass outside of the station, a rare hot sun shining down on them. Galo meets his eyes, already biting down on his lunch (it’s just the two of them: Lucia and Aina were having a post-lunch nap in Lucia’s office and they didn’t have the heart to wake them up).
“What is it, firefly?”
“Thank you.” Galo blinks, surprised. Then he gives Lio one of his smiles that rival the sun, unabashed and shamelessly happy.
“It’s gonna be alright. I know it will.”