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Xeno looked up at Stanley. The Commander's weathered stone form stood as elegant as ever, his fingers poised to light a cigarette that had long since disintegrated. The scientist reached into the pocket of his coat for the half-empty pack of cigarettes he'd created a week or two ago. He knew Stanley wouldn't be revived anytime soon, but he still felt the intense need to make them for the soldier, just as he had done regularly since they began life in the Stone Age.
Now, with Stanley reduced to a statue for the foreseeable future, Xeno found himself lighting a cigarette for his stone partner and informing him of the things he'd missed so far.
He shook a cigarette out of the pack, lit it, and placed it between Stanley's lips. Xeno hated to admit that the scent of cigarette smoke he loathed so much before had become a source of genuine comfort in his partner's absence.
"Hey, Stanley. Not much happened today. Construction is still in progress. What we've accomplished so far is elegant, though still rather primitive. I know you'd find it remarkable nonetheless."
Xeno grew quiet, eyes trained on his partner as he sat on a nearby boulder. As excited as he was to continue the work necessary to complete the somewhat lofty goal of a stable rocket ship, he still felt…off. He wasn't sad, but there was an undercurrent of something similar to it whenever he experienced a happy moment. More than once he'd turned to tell Stanley something, but realized he wasn’t there. Sometimes he felt the pull in his chest of his first instinct to tell the sniper about a problem he’d solved, but knew he couldn't without heading out to the statue.
And it absolutely wasn't the same talking to Stanley’s statue. Xeno couldn't hear his voice, or feel him next to him, or see the little nuances of his face shift in subtle reaction to his words.
Stanley may have physically been here, but he wasn't around.
You're in ruins...
Of course now was when his brain would remind him.
Xeno could remember exactly seventy-eight songs from the pre-petrification world in their entirety, and that happened to be one of them. He couldn't determine why, either. Perhaps it was because back then, when times were dire, often when Stanley was deployed or they'd gotten into a disagreement, his brain decided he needed to hear it on a loop. Following his respective petrifications, the song continued its previous pattern in his head.
And now was no exception.
It'd been a while since he'd truly allowed himself to crumble. And for some reason he was on his way to doing just that, all because of the memory of a ridiculous song called 21 Guns.
Xeno remembered the first time he heard the song. He remembered being at his internship and it being the radio's fault that he turned into a sobbing mess.
He was working on an assignment at NASA. Stanley was deployed on a mission with details apparently so classified he wasn't able to give Xeno even an inkling, so he had no idea where he was, how long he'd be gone, or when he'd come back. Which, of course, was perfect for Xeno's anxiety. But he did his best to swallow it, tucking it away in the back of his mind in favor of focusing on the task at hand. It was a good thing that between his dissertation (which kept him awake at all hours of the night), the courses he was teaching, and his internship with NASA (which required significant focus and hours away from home), his mind had been too occupied. Because, otherwise, he'd be spending the moments when he was at home sad about the fact that he was alone in their apartment while worrying about his partner.
Stanley being away was nothing new, but there was something about the lack of information this time that made the situation unbearable. They had even argued about it the day before he was scheduled to leave. Xeno's exhaustion from overwork between his dissertation and his internship blended with his frustration about Stan leaving, and it all came out in tears and yelling. Stan shouted back, his own frustration (and heightened anxiety, as he told Xeno later) taking over. It was the worst fight they'd had. But they'd managed to put down their verbal weapons and reconcile after Xeno's sobs gave room for Stan's confessions about his fears regarding leaving his stressed partner alone for what could be another years-long deployment. They apologized to each other, made love three times, had dinner, and fell asleep together. It was peaceful. Elegant beyond words. At least until Xeno woke up at four in the morning to Stanley dressed and preparing his duffle to report back for duty.
That goodbye kiss tasted of nicotine and desolation.
Xeno kept his phone nearby hoping it would ring, hoping he'd hear from Stanley and learn that he was still alive. Then again, sometimes the idea of the phone ringing scared him. So, when the inelegant dark corners of his mind told him that Stanley was dead or horribly injured, he tried to rationalize it with the knowledge that he would've been contacted should the worst have happened. However, that didn't stop his mind from playing out all kinds of horrible scenarios that ended with him being left alone with nothing but a set of flags and dog tags.
As Xeno adjusted his position in his chair, his ears focused on the gentle melody playing from the tiny FM radio on his desk. He knew the singer's voice immediately. He liked Green Day much more than Stanley. Despite being a passive fan of the band, he was familiar enough with their recent releases to know this was a song he hadn't heard before and figured it had to be relatively new. Xeno turned the volume up slightly and returned his focus to the math on the papers in front of him.
The calculations weren't working, and he couldn't figure out whether the error lay in the equation itself or the solution. He took a sip from his fourth coffee of the day and felt his chest pound slightly as his heart jumped from the caffeine. Too much coffee and not enough water had made his head hurt a little with the start of a migraine, but taking another aspirin wasn't an option, so he bit his pencil and stared at the numbers.
He had to have overlooked something obvious.
Xeno tapped his phone to check the time and kicked himself as he did it. He'd had a watch, but he could never shake the habit, just like he couldn't avoid the Pavlovian response to his phone pinging. His lock screen caught his attention. His stomach flipped.
It was a photo he'd taken of Stanley from three months ago during the soldier's last break. He was sitting up in bed with his legs crossed on top of the blankets wearing black boxer briefs and an oversized sweater that had a dirty acronym for NASA on the front. A plate of waffles and strawberries sat balanced in his lap, and he held a fork in his left hand. Stanley gave a wide closed-lip smile at the camera, his mouth stuffed with food, his eyes closed, the slight shimmer of gloss on his lips. His hair was an elegant mess thanks to Xeno's hands during earlier activities, and his bangs were swooped back. Stanley appeared relaxed. Xeno remembered that they both were. It was easily one of the most serene mornings either of them had experienced in nearly a year. They spent it chatting in bed as they drank coffee and ate breakfast. Xeno told him all about the internship, while Stan shared that he was apparently close to finally being named Commander. It seemed like so long ago and just yesterday at the same time.
Nothing's ever built to last….You're in ruins….
Xeno had cursed the audacity of Billie Joe Armstrong. He was already overwhelmed and on the verge of a breakdown when the chorus began, but by the end of the second verse, he was sobbing openly at his desk at two in the afternoon.
He was in ruins.
Nobody told him how hard it was to share your heart with someone in the service. No one prepared him for how scared he'd be for Stanley every minute he wasn't with him. No one told him how much regret he'd feel at the thought of every argument they'd had in the past while waiting to hear from his best friend and long-time partner.
Xeno had stared at his phone, wishing Stanley could call, hoping on every constellation in the galaxy that he wouldn't receive a call or a visit informing him that he'd lost the love of his life. That he wouldn’t be hearing a twenty-one gun salute at a funeral for the man he loved more than anything….
Including science, if he were honest with himself. (Though sometimes, he believed that, if anything, it would be a solid tie).
Xeno didn't finish his calculations that afternoon. He'd shut off the radio, packed up his stuff, and went home where he could finish having his ugly cry-overdue breakdown-panic attack combo session in the privacy of his own home.
Their home.
And now, surrounded by the ruins of what they’d caused together while staring at the stone Stanley as the cigarette he'd placed between his lips burned, Xeno noticed his vision blur at the memory of it all.
…like a liar looking for forgiveness from a stone…
Xeno cleared his throat and lifted his chin. Again, fuck this song.
Crying wasn't an option in the stone world. Especially not after he'd been co-responsible for causing the massacre of the Kingdom of Science and necessitating the re-petrification of all humankind. He couldn't cry. Well, at least not yet. He had to atone first, help get things back up and running, mend what he destroyed, then he could let himself cry.
But it wasn't like he'd had an option to not cry, either. Despite what he willed his body to not do, the tears were rudely running down the sides of his face. He swiped them away.
He couldn't avoid the feeling that they'd done this to themselves—or, more specifically, that he'd done this to them. It was, after all, his hubris.
If he wasn't so blinded by his own bullshit and so hellbent on his plan to rebuild a society in which he ruled just so he could research, create, and do all elegant things pertaining to science without having to deal with funding and politics and all the other shit that came with it in the old world, they wouldn't be here now. If he wasn't so foolish in believing Senku was a barrier and wanting the teenager dead, none of this would've happened.
Byakuya would kill him.
He gave a watery scoff at that. The man was always so jovial and mellow, such a big sap, but determined nonetheless. Xeno always hypothesized that despite his good nature, Byakuya would be the kind of man you wouldn't want to cross, especially when it came to his family. The day he realized Brilliant Email Kid Senku was Byakuya's Senku, Xeno understood two things.
One, Senku had Byakuya's determination, and that, mixed with his intellect, would make him an increasingly elegant asset to the field as he got older.
Two, if he ever did anything to discourage Senku or break his spirit and natural talent for STEM, he would have to answer to Byakuya—the thought of which, oddly enough, actually scared the hell out of him.
He was lucky Byakuya was in space when this petrification nonsense went down because if he was a statue, and they revived him, and one of the things he learned was that he called a hit on Senku?
The older man might not have physically harmed Xeno, but he'd definitely make him wish he did.
How inelegant.
Xeno rubbed his eyes. He was foolish. So, so foolish.
Stanley even gave him an out, and he didn't take it. Stanley tried. It was like he knew that Xeno would regret this. Like he knew this was ridiculous, but he would never say it because he was in full soldier-mode at that point and was following whatever orders his partner gave. But still, he tried.
Stanley asked Xeno for confirmation, and how did he respond? He told his partner to shoot Senku with minimal hesitation.
Thank fuck the kid found a way to survive that. But Stanley never missed twice—hell, he rarely missed once. Although his partner was the one who went on a warpath in the name of saving him, Xeno felt like it was his fault that all the senseless killings of the Kingdom of Science happened. All because of that initial order.
Again, Byakuya was probably beyond pissed watching this from wherever he was in the afterlife.
Sometimes Xeno wished the old man had simply been petrified by the Medusa, so he could revive him and accept whatever fate he had coming for him.
Perhaps having to choose science and humanity over the love of his life while living the foreseeable future with Stanley in stone was Byakuya's way of getting him back for what he did to his son and his Stone Age descendants.
He supposed it was a fitting punishment for the moment. At least until he could revive Stanley and have a conversation with him, explain the agreements and the situation, and hopefully ensure they wouldn't have another repeat of what happened what was not several weeks, but actually several years ago. (He would never get used to time during and after his petrifications.) He hoped Stanley would listen.
If Xeno was the one explaining and providing the plan going forward, the Commander would listen. Stanley would do anything for Xeno—as he had blatantly proven. His partner demonstrated how unbelievably ruthless he was capable of being. It was something Xeno was only mildly aware Stanley had within him. He'd heard stories, known that his partner was flying through the ranks, and understood that his sniping skills were not to be underestimated (something he noticed more post-petrification than pre since Stan was responsible for hunting). But it was something else entirely seeing his partner in action on his mission to annihilate Senku and his Kingdom in the name of retrieving him.
On one hand, admittedly, it aroused Xeno to no end. And had things not ended the way they did, he thinks—no, he knows he would've taken Stanley aside and done something about that craving the very moment they were alone.
On the other, it made him terrified of what his partner was capable of doing.
And for the briefest of moments, he couldn't believe that the man who laid waste to everything was the same man who would only wear hideous cat socks one winter. Or that he was the same man who whined complaints to Xeno like a toddler when the non-slip toe beans on the bottom peeled off.
He was the same man who would pack his lunch for him every day when he was home. The same one whose lipstick collection had an organization system in their bathroom, a system that was always missing only one item, a semi-tinted shade, whenever he was deployed. The one who requested Xeno make a glossy chapstick for him to accentuate his lips since the petrification had permanently impacted their shade.
The very man who, when they stayed up discussing whether it was more sensible to have a wedding or elope, wouldn't settle for anything less than a wedding despite Xeno's insistence on the more elegant elopement. They'd eventually agreed upon a proper engagement—one that Xeno initially planned for the week following what ended up being their petrification day. Once they were revived, he learned that Stanley was going to propose when he was scheduled to come home two days following what ended up being their petrification day. Three weeks after their revival, once they were more stable and had begun a routine, Stanley took Xeno away and privately asked. Xeno answered. They celebrated by having an overdue evening of quiet intimacy to truly reconnect for the first time since waking up in this new world.
This man—Commander Stanley Snyder, a dangerous, gentle, beautifully incongruous, walking contradiction of a man—was Xeno's fiancé.
And his fiancé illustrated exactly what he’d do for him.
So, Stanley would absolutely do something as minor as listening to Xeno’s explanation and following the ceasefire. Senku and the Kingdom of Science would be wary, of course, but they'd have nothing to worry about once they realized they had a marksman on their side. Then again, unless they needed backup due to a larger threat, they'd likely wait to revive his partner until the time came to bring him up on the numerous counts of the criminal charges against him.
Until then, Stanley Snyder was stone.
Until then, Xeno had to wait and be without him yet again. It was hard enough counting both times in the stone, it was hard enough counting the days when he was deployed, but this? Stanley was right there. He could see him, touch him, talk to him, but Stanley could do nothing in return. To Xeno, that made this separation so much worse.
You're in ruins.
Xeno wiped furiously at his eyes, but they continued to leak. His only saving grace was that it was now late evening and everyone was preoccupied. The cigarette between Stanley's lips fell, having burnt to the filter. Xeno extinguished it between his fingers as he picked it up. He rotated the remains in his palm and looked up at his partner.
"Stan, I… I miss you."
The tears couldn't seem to stop, so Xeno let them fall. Because, without Stanley, he was left in elegantly inelegant ruins.