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Philza comes with his evidence backpack, and Cellbit wants the ground to swallow him whole. Too much, its too much, he can't-
"Is now a bad time?" Philza asks, concerned but voice still light. "I can come back Friday?"
"No," Cellbit sighs. "No, I guess... Just..."
He waves a hand in a direction, and hopes Philza can make some sense of it.
"..." Philza doesn't move. "You alright mate? You seem a bit... off?"
"I'm just tired," Cellbit replies. "I just..."
Does he say, does he not? Philza has been one of his few defenders on this island, trusting him even when there's been nothing to trust, thinking on his wavelength and beside him.
He has to, doesn't he?
Cellbit can't make this sort of decision and tell anyone.
"I'm stepping down," Cellbit says. "From investigating. Cucurucho... I'm not working for the Federation, but I can't keep working against them either. Can we just... I'm sorry, I'm sorry I can't be what you need me to be."
"You're not? But-" Philza's brow furrows, and Cellbit fears the yelling he heard in the maze.
He didn't hear the words, but he heard the tone; he knows he is too exhausted to survive that.
"Please, Philza," he says. "Let it rest. The Federation, the Order... I have no part in them any more. Good luck. I hope you find what you're looking for someday."
There is a long pause and Cellbit thinks, maybe, that the silence is worse than the yelling could ever have been.
"Alright," Philza's voice is gentle as he deflates. "Alright... I understand."
Cellbit expects that to be that, watching Philza put the evidence bag away. It stings more than he thought it would, but even that struggles to bring him strength through the haze. He has failed Philza - failed everyone - in giving up. So of course he is now turned away. He knows he's only wanted for what he can give, why did he expect different?
But then the bag is gone, and Philza is still there. He reaches out, takes one of Cellbit's hands, and cradles it in his own. Calloused hands are soft and gentle, and Cellbit understands why so many on the island call him father.
It doesn't feel as teasing any more.
"Are you safe?" Philza asks. "Cucurucho isn't going to come down on your ass, is he?"
He is. Cellbit cannot answer - he just wants to sleep.
But maybe none is needed, because Philza's grip tightens a little, before thumbs start to smooth over Cellbit's knuckles.
"Fuck," Philza says, then he breathes. "Alright. We've got you, King. If anything happens, I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't worry about that dumbass bear, okay? No matter what there are people here who love you, and we will save you."
Cellbit closes his eyes, and nods, and tries to be strong again. He opens his mouth, and-
"None of that," Philza interrupts. "I do it because I want to. Now, when's Roier coming to bed? I don't really want to leave you alone right now, mate."
There's something in Philza's tone, but Cellbit doesn't care to interpret it. Instead he shrugs, "not sure. But really, I'll be fine. I just need to rest."
"I'll bet," Philza looks almost heartbroken as he says it. "Let's get you somewhere safe, then. You good to warp to my place? Phil and Missa?"
"Why?" Cellbit manages to ask as he takes out his warpstone.
"I'm not going to ask you to show me your bedroom, Cellbit. I can make choices about my privacy, not yours."
It sounds so obvious like that, but it's not quite the question he meant. Still, Cellbit just follows along. It's easier, far easier, to just get whatever this is over with so he can get home and to his bed.
He warps and, as soon as he arrives, Philza takes his hand again. He's led to the hatch, and down - "be careful on the ladder" Philza reminds him - to the children's room. Then, not content to leave him there, Philza takes him to the right, through another two security doors - its not hidden, but its certainly protected - to a room all in orange. Around the walls are photographs, and there's an enchantment table in the centre, but Cellbit does not really think of that.
"This is Chayanne's room," Philza smiles sadly as he says it. "But, I'm sure he won't mind. Here, if we just-"
Cellbit tries to make a response, to compliment it, to offer condolences, but instead he is led to the side of the stairs, and then beneath them. Tucked away there, in the dim, behind five security doors, a double layer of reinforced concrete, and still hidden, is a heap of mattresses, covered in blankets and pillows and even the odd bean bag.
"Get yourself comfortable," Philza pushes him a little towards the pile. "I just need to adjust the doors. Make sure Roier can get in, and Felps. Pretty sure Fit just lets Pac and Mike in anyway. And Forever," Philza's breath hitches very slightly, almost inaudibly. "has access anyway."
Philza hurries off, and Cellbit remains where he was left. He doesn't need the mothering, he is sure, but- But maybe it is nice, to not have to think.
He thinks so much, for everyone, what's wrong with this?
Soon enough Philza is back, carrying two bowls of something.
"I've let Roier know where you are, and Felps as I saw he was awake," Philza says as he passes over a bowl. "I know I ain't your family, but hopefully... Anyway, Chayanne made these before he vanished, always was a better cook than me. Just heated it through - I'm sure he wouldn't have minded it being shared."
"Are you sure?" Cellbit asks. "This is your son's? I'm not-"
"Eat," Philza is a little more pushy this time, even as he sits on the mattresses himself. "You're family, if you want to be. A bit extended, but aren't we all? Forever is my family and he's also yours, and that makes us family too. By some definition, anyway."
"Oh," it's said so simply, and Cellbit has no mind for a puzzle right now. Instead he takes the bowl of soup, and he drinks it.
They eat in silence and, once done, Philza tucks both of the bowls away. Cellbit is nudged again towards the mattresses as Philza cleans up, placing his hat and his coat beside the nest.
Great, ruined wings shudder a little to escape their hole, and despite the feather growth over them Cellbit can see the scars still deep in the flesh, the unevenness where muscle has been ripped away, how they shake with the effort of holding themselves up. He doesn't know wings, but Cellbit knows what a limb looks like when its entirely, irrecoverably fucked, and he's pretty sure that's the case here, too.
He feels like he needs to do something, to have some response to seeing such fantastic wings laid low - or perhaps to the trust shown to him in their display - but he's just...
He's just tired.
Philza is a little unsteady as he, too, comes into the nest. He shifts the pillows and the blankets and opens his arms and Cellbit- Cellbit can't.
He can't be being offered this, he barely knows Philza, he can't be trusted this much, not when people so much closer to him don't. It feels like a lie, a kind one at that.
"Come on Cellbit," Philza says. "I don't have all night; some of us sleep at reasonable hours, you know?"
"It's not unreasonable," Cellbit manages to retort, even as he gives in.
Stone crumbles to the wave, in time; Cellbit pulls off his outer layers, and slowly climbs into the nest.
Crawls into Philza's arms.
The arms close around him, and ruined wings hide him from sight.
"There we go," Philza whispers. "You've done well, more than enough. Just rest now, mate; I'll keep things ticking over in the meantime."
Cellbit doesn't want things to stay 'ticking over', he just wants them to end. Part of him knows he doesn't really, that he'll want those things later, if only because Cucurucho will betray him, and Forever still isn't home, and its only with them carrying on that anyone he loves will be safe.
Philza runs a hand through his hair; Cellbit's thoughts still.
It's a little while before either of them speaks. To his own surprise Cellbit is the one to do so, with another childish feeling question, another "why?"
"Because I trust you," Philza replies. "And if I trust you, I care about you. If I trust you, you are my flock, and it fucking sucks right now, but we take care of each other. You're alive? That's all I need from you, mate, just for you to stay alive."
Cellbit wishes it was that simple, he really does.
"If I'm here, your house isn't safe," he tries to reason, unsure why he's even fighting it now.
Philza holds him a little tighter, "if my flock safe, what's the point of a house? I'd take you to the real nest, but human lungs don't like being that high for long."
Real nest? Cellbit didn't think Philza had a secret base. It's a better kept secret than most on the server, it seems. To even know it exists, and presumably in the sky...
The idea is crushed by exhaustion, and apathy, and a desperate, desperate need to sleep.
Fingers brush in his hair once more.
"I've got you," Philza says. "Get some rest, mate; nobody will hurt you here."
And if they do, Cellbit has no doubt Philza's scythe will find its way into their eyes.
He curls up, presses his head to Philza's chest, and desperately tries to sleep.