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Brady knew something was wrong from the way that Gerome’s shoulders slumped. His friend had taken care to conceal his expressions long ago with the mask. But he had always been bad at hiding his true emotions, especially so when they overwhelmed him all at once.
So, passing by with a glance, Brady was able to discern Gerome’s distress. And Brady, being the caring guy that he was, did not avert his gaze.
“Hey, uh, Gerome are you doin’ ok?”
His head swung around as he noticed Brady with a slight jolt. Minerva was beside him, laid out in perhaps the most relaxed pose Brady had seen her in since they returned to the past. Gerome glanced away, his hand scrubbing across his face as he turned.
“I’m fine.” His voice was steady but Brady could sense an underlying emotion. He cautiously approached, hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders hunched forward. Gerome was tall, but Brady easily dwarfed him if he stood at his full height. He tried to appear diminutive and harmless as he neared.
“If there’s er, somethin’ on your mind…” Brady trailed off, unsure how to continue. As he faltered, he noticed the shimmer of wetness along Gerome’s jaw before his sleeve wiped it dry. “Wait, are you crying?”
“I said,” Gerome muttered. “I’m fine.” From the way his voice wavered, Brady knew that was a lie.
“Hold on, hold on, let’s talk about this—” Brady knew what it felt like to be moved to tears. He often would prefer others to leave him alone when such feelings overwhelmed him. But that was usually when the person viewing his tears did so out of curiosity or mockery. He knew Gerome was a serious dude, and he knew that it took a decent amount of strain to get some emotion out of the guy. So to see him standing in the middle of the day with tears dribbling down his face was completely out of character.
“I—” Gerome began, before the words warbled in his mouth. He bit into his fist, a frustrated grunt replacing whatever placations he had prepared. His shoulders rose and fell with the exertion of suppressing his tears. It seems that he was much better at concealing his emotion when it was not the focus of conversation. As soon as Brady noticed he was crying, whatever restraints he had enacted dissolved in his grasp.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Let’s uh…Let’s get you comfortable at least.” Brady’s medical training kicked in as he realized the depth of Gerome’s struggle. With a light touch, he guided his friend to a nearby stump and helped him sit down. Gerome leaned forward, holding his head in his hands. Tears now ran down his face in thick, unbroken trails.
After a few moments of silence, punctuated by Gerome’s shaky inhales, his shoulders finally stilled. He was able to regain his breath with a few sharp gasps. And when he lifted his head, he scrubbed away the tears with an annoyed huff.
Brady squatted down in front of him, trying to give him space while also reminding him of his presence. He gave him a few moments before speaking again. “Do you want to…y’know, talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Gerome said in a deadpan, his usual grimace fixed back in place.
“Oh c’mon, man. You know that you wouldn’t have cried so much if you had just talked about in the first place. It’s repression that increases the intensity of it when you finally let yourself feel it.”
Gerome scrunched his face, frowning. “How would you know?”
“I cry all the time!” Brady said indignantly. “I know all about it, trust me!”
Gerome crossed his arms and leaned back from where he sat with a sigh. A few moments passed by in silence while he considered Brady, who was glaring back up at him with as much encouragement he could muster in a scowl.
“It was Minerva.” He finally said, turning his face away as he admitted it. “This is the calmest I have ever seen her. Back in the future, she was always so sad, so lethargic. Here, in the past though…she’s been much happier. And seeing how relaxed she was napping…It just softened my heart, I suppose.” Even just talking about it, his voice began to thicken again in waves.
Brady gave his hand a pat and traded his frown for a smile. “That’s completely understandable.” He glanced back at Minerva and realized what Gerome meant.
She was laid out with her eyes closed as she basked in the sunlight. Her form rose and fell like ocean waves lapping the shore at low tide. It was not the soft rhythm of her slumber that moved him though, but the blissful expression on her face. Brady was not one for interpreting the expressions of wyverns—he had enough trouble with human beings on that count—but there was no mistaking it. She was utterly placid, contentment clear in the relaxed curve of her scaled brow and the slight dip of her jaw. The crux of her happiness, the thing which tore through Brady’s heart with the realization that Gerome was definitely justified with his impassioned tears, was the sight of her small, pink tongue peeking out from between her teeth in a miniscule blep. He had only seen such cuteness displayed on kittens or puppies. To observe an elderly wyvern of all creatures in such a state…He could not stop the tears budding in his eyes at the sight.
“Brady!” Gerome’s voice raised with concern. “Please, don’t cry because—”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just—” He snorted, wiping quickly at the budding moisture in his eyes.
“If you cry, I’m not…” Gerome groaned, hiding his face in his hands. Brady knew, even as his vision blurred with fragile tears, that Gerome’s prior sobs were returning.
“I can’t help it! She’s adorable, what do ya want me to do!?” Brady was actually sobbing now, the tears thick down his face.
“Fine!” Gerome lifted his face, his glare at Brady apparent though it hid behind his mask. His mouth quivered as he spoke, fresh wetness running down his face once more. “We both cry then! Are you happy now? Glad that you helped?”
And that was how Laurent later found the two of them, choked up and weeping, clinging to each other as they observed the cutest wyvern they had ever seen.