Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first drops of rain start falling just after Aventurine opens the gate to his property. At this hour, so late into the night that it's closer to dawn, there's nobody else in the streets around him; everyone is cloistered away safely in their homes, where the coming storm can't reach them. The overcast clouds above and the rumbling thunder in the distance are omens Aventurine knows all too well, heralding rain and lightning that can easily last for hours. It's his least favourite kind, even if this will be far from the worst storm he's weathered.

Still, he can't say he's surprised. Rain always does seem to fall whenever there's a bend in the path he walks — as if to remind him that everything he does is beneath a watchful eye he can never escape.

(It makes sense that SHE is watching him now, since there isn't anyone else left who would draw HER gaze away. Still, the wish that flits across his mind is the same as ever: if only SHE would stop looking upon him, and instead turn her gaze elsewhere, to those bodies she never once laid eyes upon.)

Breathing out a laugh, Aventurine raises his head to gaze up at the dark sky. There are no moons visible from this planet, but even if there had been, the clouds would have blotted out their light. "What a bother," he says out loud. A droplet of water lands on his cheek. "I'm fond of this suit."

He lowers his head again, adjusting his hat; the drop of rain rolls down his face, leaving a trail behind it not unlike a tear track. Reaching into his coat, Aventurine's fingers close around the smooth, cool edges of his namesake, tracing gently over its facets.

His Cornerstone's power rushes to his fingertips with a single snap. A golden shield shimmers into existence above him like an umbrella, and inside his coat his Cornerstone thrums against his chest. It would have been a flashy show if anyone was here to see him. Not something that Aventurine minds in particular, but it's just as well that he hasn't gathered a crowd, since he does want to avoid attracting too much attention today. He's chosen to come here unannounced, in the dead of the night, for good reason — and it's best that it stays that way.

Still… he can keep this up, at least for as long as he's alone. After all, it'll be the last time this power will come so easily for a while. Perhaps, if he's lucky, maybe even —

A roll of thunder cuts his thoughts off, a reminder of his luck that has lips twisting in a sardonic smirk. Settling his Cornerstone back in its inner pocket, Aventurine casts a glance towards the house across the street before turning back. He idly tosses the keys to the unfamiliar house in the air as he walks up to the door, a flash of lightning glinting off bright metal just before they land neatly in his palm.

It's time to set his plan into motion.

The house is unfurnished, but Aventurine needs very little for what he intends to do today. His shoes click against the hardwood floor, sending up dust motes into the air; the only light is the dim glow of the shield he summoned as an umbrella, which he still keeps above him even though he's long since stepped out of the rain. (He's never cared for the superstitions he's heard on other worlds, like closing umbrellas indoors or whatever else. They aren't his beliefs, and even if they were… his luck, the unshakeable supernatural blessing it is, could never be bested by something as trivial as superstition.)

It's Aventurine's first time stepping foot into this house since buying it, though he's gone over the plans. He recalls its interior design was advertised as being a blend of 'modern convenience and historical beauty', taking inspiration from a bygone era of some distant planet. The agent called the style Baroque, if he recalls correctly. It's evident in the high ceiling and sculpted pillars, the chandelier in the entryway gleaming in the light of his shield as he passes.

The property is more than sufficient for his purposes — quite a bit more, really. At the very base level, all Aventurine really needs to execute his plan is a secluded location where nobody will interrupt him. He could have done it in any one of his private properties, or even his own home… but, of course, he chose this particular location for an advantage he can't get anywhere else.

The tall windows in the room he enters give him a clear view of the street outside, and Aventurine finds his eyes lingering on the house across the street for a long moment before he forces himself to tear his gaze away. That's just his backup if his theory comes to fruition. If this goes well, he'll be in and out without Ratio ever knowing he was on this planet at all.

Dismissing his shield, Aventurine sucks in a deep breath, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment before slowly opening them again. Even though he's gone over this plan a dozen times, his fingers still tremble when he withdraws his Cornerstone from his coat, gripping it tightly in his left hand. His heart is pounding; he can feel it hammering away in his chest, and above the muffled sound of rain falling, all he can hear is his blood rushing through his veins.

Keep your blood forever pulsing…

Aventurine cuts the thought off before his mind can continue down that path, focusing instead on the power that was not forced upon him, but which was granted to him. The power that he sought out himself and fought to grasp with his own two hands; the power for which he made one wager after another until it finally led him to where he stands today, holding the proof of his greatest victory in his left hand.

(Or is it a victory?)

This is the power that he intends to crush into shards — if his plan works. But with this watchful rain falling tonight, Aventurine has no doubt it will. One way or another.

"I'm placing the bet."

Aventurine's voice resonates in the empty room, heat suffusing him as familiar power courses through his veins. Outside, the rain is starting to pick up, falling with ever-growing intensity; the wind howls, rattling the doors as if it's trying to get inside.

"I'm taking the gamble."

A faint breeze is starting to pick up around him. Its source is not the storm outside these walls; it's the power he's summoning that stirs the air inside the room, swirling it around him and whipping his hair around his face. Aventurine keeps his gaze fixed on his Cornerstone, feeling the reverberations of its steady thrum intensify in his grip, as if to match the frenetic pace of his heartbeat.

"I'm claiming the win."

Glowing amber cracks are starting to form along the gemstone's gleaming surface as he draws out its power, reaching further than he ever has before. There's resistance pushing back at him now, as if in warning, but he pays it no mind — just forces his way past it to draw on even deeper recesses, ignoring the twinge of pain in his chest. The pain is a belated confirmation of exactly what he suspected would happen, but he isn't going to stop now.

This is the game he's chosen, and the stakes have never been higher.

"I'll let fate spin the wheel, a daring gamble."

The pain is getting worse. His Cornerstone is shaking in his grip, the cracks shining brighter and brighter, as if the light within can no longer be contained. Around him, the wind has gotten even more violent, whipping the dust motes around him into a frenzied whirlwind; if Aventurine hadn't known better, he might have thought they were glowing.

" Walking the brink of death... for rebirth."

His chest aches fiercely, making it hard to draw breath, but Aventurine forces the words out, his voice rising above the storm.

"All for the Amber Lord!"

Aventurine's Cornerstone flares with blinding radiance, rays of light cleaving through the darkness, and in time to the clap of thunder outside —

The Aventurine of Stratagems shatters.

It's another crack of thunder that greets Aventurine when he finally starts returning to his senses, but it sounds muffled and distant through the ringing in his ears. He's sprawled over the floor; he must have passed out, though for how long, he doesn't know. Sensations are rushing back to him, starting with sheer, concentrated pain. As if his whole body is on fire and every breath he draws is filled with needles. It hurts. It hurts. It —

His inhale catches in his throat, forcing up a fit of coughs that have him curling into himself, tears prickling at his eyes from the pain. He tastes blood, sharp and metallic, filling his mouth and spilling from his lips. He can barely breathe through the agony tearing at his chest, leaving him dizzy and disoriented as he struggles for air.

It hurts.

His Cornerstone… he can hardly see right now, his vision little more than a kaleidoscopic blur of colours, but he can make out dim green shards scattered over the ground. He's succeeded. There's no question of that. His Cornerstone is broken — there's no other possible reason for this fiery pain searing his body from the inside out, the result of pushing his power past the point of shattering the gem.

He tries to reach out towards the scattered shards, but his limbs are so heavy he can barely move them. The world won't stay still, colours swirling and dancing so dizzyingly that he has to close his eyes again. The thundering storm pounding down outside fills the silence, drowning out the weak, breathless coughs that slip from his lips, bringing fresh blood with them.

Has he managed to come too far? Has he finally, finally broken himself beyond repair?

If he just lies here… will his body grow cold next to his broken Cornerstone?

The crack of thunder sends the rest of the thought into disarray as sharp pain shoots through his head, so intense it's blinding. He can barely focus for long enough to compose his thoughts, but even then, he knows the answers to his questions. A feeble laugh makes its way out, even though it leaves a trail of searing pain in its wake.

He isn't dead, so he still hasn't lost. Just the same as always. He is still under vow to protect his "wealth".

Slowly, Aventurine pushes himself up on one elbow, fighting his way through the pain and dizziness that send his world tilting on its side. He presses two trembling fingers together, as hard as he can.

At the sharp snap of his fingers, fragments of familiar green flicker to life across the ground. The shards glow in the darkness, their light dim and weak in juxtaposition to the brilliance his Cornerstone radiated when whole, but they still shine. The light hasn't been snuffed out of them yet.

With halting movements, hindered by the pain weighing his limbs down and the persistent cough that fills his mouth with the taste of blood, Aventurine gathers up every fragment he can find. Even in its shattered state, every shard he retrieves still offers a brief surge of strength; by the time he's finally gathered up all the fragments that are large enough to hold, he at least feels like getting back on his feet is no longer an insurmountable task.

He's still struck by a wave of dizziness when he stands, but manages to stumble over to the wall in time to brace himself. Drawing a shaky breath, Aventurine clutches the remains of his Cornerstone to his chest, letting his eyes fall shut as he assesses his condition. He's in worse physical shape than he expected — he'd anticipated pain, but nothing quite so crippling.

Still, he's alive, and his Cornerstone is still usable, even if its power is greatly diminished. Both those gambles have paid off, and there are solutions to his current physical state that he's accounted for.

Slowly opening his eyes again, Aventurine raises his head to peer through the window. The storm is still raging, but there's a lit window in the house across the street, and Aventurine knows its owner will surely come to the door if he knocks.

It looks like he's going to have to call in his backup plan after all.

Chapter Text

The moment Aventurine steps out into the rain, he's soaked to the bone. With his Cornerstone in the state that it's in, he has neither the will nor the focus to summon his party trick of an umbrella shield — and he definitely hadn't thought to set an actual umbrella at the door in preparation for something like this. A minor miscalculation. Not one that should matter, though, since there's no chance he'll be repeating this plan again. Even if he was somehow granted another gem to replace his shattered aventurine, he doesn't think his body would survive breaking another Cornerstone.

The storm lashes at him with whips of rain, and the air is so frigid that it hurts to breathe in. His coughs are bringing up more blood than ever. All Aventurine's doing is crossing the street, yet his body feels like he's walking through a swamp — every step he takes is such a great effort that it makes his vision swim. He keeps his eyes focused on the one lit window until the roof of the porch hides it from view, then he adjusts his gaze to look towards the front door again. It's a relief when he finally reaches the porch and leaves the rain behind him, taking his last, stumbling steps towards the door.

Aventurine vaguely recalls that Ratio has some kind of camera or intercom, something to judge whoever's outside so he can decide whether or not to don his plaster bust before opening the door, but his mind's too scrambled from the pain for him to puzzle it out at this point. His hand is half-raised, poised to knock, when the door is suddenly flung open and light floods his vision.

The stab of pain through his head at the sudden rush of light has him swallowing an undignified noise, his hand coming up to block it instead as his free arm shoots out towards the door frame to keep himself from falling over. It takes a moment, and the sensation of a firm hand gripping his shoulder to steady him, before he dares to let his hand drop. "It is four twenty-six a.m." Despite the incredulity in Ratio's voice, he somehow has the forethought to keep his volume low, evidently having noticed Aventurine's headache. Though his efforts are in vain, really; the storm is so loud that Aventurine's head has been pounding away like something is trying to claw its way out. "You had better have a good reason for this, you damned gambler."

Aventurine laughs weakly at that, lifting his head. Everything hurts so badly he feels like he could topple over at a moment's notice, but the sight of Ratio's familiar frown still brings a ragged smile to his face. "Good morning, Professor." He aims to tease with his greeting, but his voice comes out soft and breathy, shaking just a little at the end when his chest tightens with pain. There's no question that he missed 'teasing' by a mile from the sheer disbelief on Ratio's face, not at all helped by the fit of harsh coughs that overwhelm Aventurine before he can say anything further. The hand on Aventurine's shoulder tightens, and in the space of another breath the same warm grip braces Aventurine's waist.

Aventurine stumbles as he's all but bodily dragged through the door. Without the doorframe for support, his arm instinctively braces itself on the nearest supporting surface instead — which happens to be Ratio's chest, but Ratio has the good grace not to comment on it beyond an irritated click of his tongue. Ratio's starting to say something, but before Aventurine can make out any words, the burning in the back of his throat triggers a harsh, painful fit of coughs that fills his mouth with the taste of iron.

It feels like a long time before it stops, his head swimming as he struggles to catch his breath again. Through the tears blurring his vision, Aventurine catches a shift in Ratio's expression, his typical impassive irritation giving way to something akin to shock before it smooths out again.

"What have you done?" Ratio snaps. The edge of accusatory anger in his voice has a smile tugging at Aventurine's lips through the pain. If nothing else, he can always count on Ratio's frustration to make everything feel a little more normal. "No external injuries… from this colour, the blood is from the lungs rather than the gut…" Ratio's muttering is oddly soothing, even though Aventurine's struggling to pay attention to what he's saying. "What sort of internal injuries have you inflicted upon yourself to cause this?"

Aventurine likes how Ratio has jumped to 'inflicted upon yourself' rather than trying to figure out who has done this to him. Ratio really does know him well; Aventurine did indeed do this to himself, after all. Aventurine gasps out a laugh, slipping into a grimace when the movement makes pain twist in his chest. "My Cornerstone," he manages to answer after a moment, voice breathless and shaky. "Ratio, if you would…"

He tries to bring his hand up to his coat pocket, but only makes it halfway there before Ratio beats him to it. Ratio is now bracing him by the waist, letting Aventurine lean against his chest, and Aventurine finds himself depending on Ratio for support more with every passing second. Even though his eyes have fallen shut, unable to fight the exhaustion weighing his eyelids down, Aventurine knows the exact moment Ratio finds the broken shards from the sharp inhalation that escapes him.

"Who did this?" Ratio asks, but he doesn't wait for Aventurine to speak before he answers his own question. "You did this."

Clever as always. Aventurine would praise him, but breathing is hard enough now that he can barely summon the spare breath to say anything at all. Still, it doesn't seem that his lack of reply has deterred Ratio at all, from the way the grip on his shoulder tightens.

"You've gone mad." Ratio's voice is low and tense. "For what reason would you shatter your own Cornerstone? To remove yourself from the Stonehearts? There are numerous ways to do so without resorting to this. Are you as desperate as that?"

Aventurine has to laugh at that, even though it sends frissons of fresh pain tearing through his chest. "No," he rasps. "It's… my bargaining chip."

Before Aventurine can say more, he's overwhelmed by another flurry of coughs that have his chest aching fiercely. Blood is dripping down between his fingers, soaking his glove and coating the golden rings in bright red; it's difficult to breathe between the pain in his chest and the piercingly cold air that stabs at his throat with every inhale. Even with Ratio's steadying grip around his waist, it's getting harder and harder to stay on his feet.

Ratio mutters something else, but this time the ringing in Aventurine's ears is too loud for him to make out the words. All he knows is that in the next moment, he's being led further inside — he lets out a gasp of relief when the door closes behind him, shutting out the noise of the storm, and the heated air of Ratio's home is so much easier to breathe in. "Can you walk, or should I carry you?" Ratio asks, and despite the state he's in, Aventurine's lips can't help but twitch in amusement at that question.

"Are you offering?" he asks. It hurts to speak, but the irritated noise he gets out of Ratio is worth it.

"Never mind. If you have the energy to jest, you can walk. It's only a few steps." Ratio still keeps his arm around Aventurine's waist, at least, clearly not trusting him to walk on his own. Aventurine appreciates that. He can't tell if he's light-headed from his difficulty breathing or if that's just another symptom of his broken Cornerstone, but the end result is the same.

Even with Ratio's support, though, it's more of a trial than he expected. It's as if he spent all his energy just making it across the street — and now that he's here, his body is telling him that he doesn't have anymore to spare. "Wai…" He doesn't even manage to get the full word out before his knees buckle, an involuntary gasp of pain slipping out as his chest twists up again.

Ratio bites out a curse as Aventurine's full weight falls upon him. "Aventurine!" Ratio's voice is sharp, a note of urgency tinging his tone. He used Aventurine's name — he never does that — and Aventurine might have wanted to say something about it, but he can't even answer Ratio. His voice is drowned out by wet, choked coughs as more blood forces its way up, leaving dark spots in his vision in their wake that won't clear up.

He's at his limit. No matter how hard Aventurine tries, he can't summon the strength to stay on his feet, as if the last drop has drained out of him. He can feel the blood trickling down from the corner of his lips as he coughs, but he doesn't even have the energy to reach up to wipe it away. He's falling forward —

A solid body intercepts him before he can hit the ground, and the warmth is such a shock it knocks the air out of him. In the moment before his world goes completely dark, he feels a hand brushing against his face in a movement almost akin to gentleness. He isn't sure if it's just an illusion, but he latches on to the sensation anyway, clinging to that moment of comfort.

From here on, it's all up to Ratio.

Ratio's instincts propel him into Aventurine's path when Aventurine falls, his free arm shooting out to catch Aventurine around the waist as he puts himself between Aventurine and the ground. Even unconscious, a few weak coughs still slip from Aventurine's lips, and his breathing is laboured and weak. Ratio clicks his tongue in frustration at the sensation of blood soaking through the front of his top, reaching up to carefully wipe away the blood still dripping from Aventurine's lips.

"Damned gambler," he mutters, glaring down at the prone body in his arms. With the words' intended recipient too unconscious to hear them, Ratio can't muster the usual heat to his tone when uttering the phrase. (It is not a nickname, no matter what Aventurine calls it. It is but a simple epithet.) From the moment he'd opened the door to see Aventurine standing outside, looking all in the world like a lost baby bird that had gotten caught in the rain, he'd known that only trouble was waiting.

And now, said trouble has literally collapsed into his arms. He should have just picked the idiot up instead of asking him that question. Ratio isn't sure now why he'd thought to trust Aventurine's own assessment of his condition.

Ratio has never seen Aventurine this vulnerable before, and it is, quite frankly, unnerving. He may not like seeing Aventurine strutting around like a proud peacock, but as it turns out, Ratio likes seeing him in this sorry state even less. Ratio spares a glance for the pouring rain outside before turning his gaze back to Aventurine, taking in his soaked hair and clothes. There's a puddle of water rapidly forming on the ground beneath them, and Ratio has long since written off his outfit as a lost cause between Aventurine's blood and the rainwater he'd brought in on his person.

He'd seen the flash of light across the street from his window, but his first thought had, naturally, been to assume it was lightning. It was sheer luck that he'd bothered looking outside, just to ensure that the house on the opposite side of the street was still standing — only to see a bedraggled figure limping across the street towards his own home.

The moment he'd made out that it was Aventurine, as much as was possible from that distance, he was on his feet. He may not have had an immediate guess for why Aventurine was turning up on his doorstep in the middle of a storm, but the fact that he was even here was worrying enough.

Good to know his instincts weren't wrong, looking at the choices this absolute fool has made.

Ratio is clutching the shards of Aventurine's broken Cornerstone so tightly that it's surprising they haven't cut him. He knows a Cornerstone is no ordinary gemstone, and is imbued with its holder's will in a sense, but a shattered Cornerstone must be an entirely different beast. He doubts there's any precedent for this. Aventurine is most likely the first and only fool who's broken his Cornerstone of his own will, and Ratio will have to rake him over the coals for his idiocy later, more's the pity. For now, he has to focus on making sure Aventurine isn't in any danger.

Aventurine is shockingly light when Ratio lifts him into his arms, even with the additional water weight soaking his clothes. The pallor of his complexion contrasts starkly against the blood staining his lips. Even unconscious, Aventurine is shivering — though considering the state of his clothes, it's hardly a surprise. Ratio needs to get him changed out of them immediately.

Earlier, he'd meant to help Aventurine over to his couch to examine him properly, but now that Aventurine is already out cold, Ratio decides to just bring him upstairs to his bedroom. He considers his guest bedroom for a brief second, but ultimately dismisses it; he needs to get Aventurine into a set of fresh clothes, and he doesn't keep any in his guest bedroom.

Aventurine starts coughing again, weak and hoarse, but it still brings up blood. It's starting to get rather concerning. Ratio speeds up his step in response, taking the steps two at a time. There isn't exactly a wealth of medical literature on the consequences of shattering a vessel linked to oneself which contains an Aeon's power, so Ratio is going to have to play this by ear.

He's certain of one thing, at least: he's not about to let this damned gambler die in his custody. Aventurine owes him several explanations, and Ratio is determined to get them all out of him.

By the time Ratio finally dares to declare Aventurine's condition stable, dawn has long since broken, and the storm has calmed down into a faint drizzle. The birds outside are loudly celebrating the end of the rain with an obnoxious choir, and it's annoying enough that Ratio gives into the urge to fling a piece of chalk at them. He makes sure not to actually hit any of the birds, just disturb the branches enough to make the flock take flight, and they leave blissful silence behind them as they disperse.

Now left in peace again, Ratio sits down heavily on the side of his bed, glaring over his shoulder at the prone figure stretched out upon it. Aventurine is wearing Ratio's spare bathrobe — the first one was too bloody to be used by the time he finally stabilised. Ratio is sure his launderer will have a fit over it, especially since he'd tossed Aventurine's ruined suit into the mix as well. He'll make Aventurine thank him for that later.

For now, except for the fact that he's still a little too pale, Aventurine looks just as if he's peacefully asleep. He doesn't look at all like Ratio has just spent several hours struggling to keep him alive. Truly infuriating.

Aventurine had been in worse shape than Ratio had expected when he finally conducted a proper examination. It's shocking that he'd managed to make his way to Ratio's home at all with his body in that state — and that trip, short as it may have been, had done him no favours at all. Loath as he is to admit it, Ratio is genuinely troubled by the thought of how much pain Aventurine must have withstood in those few minutes while they'd argued by the door, thanks to Ratio's misassessment. It was quite possibly the most grievous triage error he's ever made.

The shards of Aventurine's Cornerstone lie on the nightstand by the bed like silent sentinels, their peculiar green shimmer dim and faint. Ratio has only seen Aventurine's Cornerstone on occasion while it was whole, but he's nevertheless certain that the glow used to be brighter. Still, the fact that there's a glow at all is heartening. During one of the most harrowing moments in the night, when he'd genuinely feared that he'd lost Aventurine, he'd watched that light go out — and the sight had inspired dread in him that he can neither explain nor describe.

The worst is past now, at the very least. It will be a while yet before Aventurine wakes up, and he'll be in a world of pain when he does, but he shouldn't be in any danger for the moment. Ratio may consider himself a teacher before a medical practitioner, but he has sufficient confidence in his own expertise.

He's perfectly aware of all the facts, has gone over them multiple times, and yet still can't rest easy. Honestly, Ratio is more annoyed at himself than anything else. Pinching the bridge of his nose with an irritated sigh, Ratio stands up, walking over to his desk. Retrieving the book he'd abandoned the previous night when he was interrupted by this debacle, he pulls up a chair next to the bed, leaning back.

He's going to be here a long time. He may as well settle in and make himself comfortable.

Chapter Text

Aventurine's first thought on waking is to wonder who exactly stabbed him in the chest. That was what had happened the last time he'd woken up in this much pain, anyway. It takes him a moment for the memories to flood back in — the plan, his shattered Cornerstone, and…

"Finally awake, I see." Ratio sounds as unimpressed as he does relieved. The first part, Aventurine expected; the second, not so much. "Before you ask — it is seven forty-three a.m., and you've been unconscious for just over twenty-seven system hours. I was just starting to wonder if I needed to contact someone else, but congratulations on surviving again, you damned gambler."

Ratio's tone is surprisingly genuine and warm. Aventurine knows better than to read too much into it, though. Chances are he's just glad that his patient has pulled through, just like any doctor would be — even if he finds said patient to be infuriating. "Th…" Unsurprisingly, Aventurine's attempt to speak is derailed by the fit of coughs that well up. He barely manages to get a hand over his mouth as he turns away; firm hands grip his shoulders, guiding him upwards so that he's leaning against the headboard. It's a little easier to breathe now that he's upright, even though he still tastes blood in his mouth.

"Here." Ratio presses two things into his hands — a cloth, and a glass of water. Thoughtful as always, though Aventurine cringes at the red stain that instantly blossoms on the clean white fabric. He can only assume it's because Ratio owns only pristine white handkerchiefs; it seems fitting. He doesn't bother spending too long thinking about that, though, because the water is much more relevant. It's a relief, washing away the taste of blood as he gulps it down, even as Ratio admonishes him with, "Small sips."

He's so naggy. Aventurine ignores that, polishing off the rest of the glass before taking a deep breath. "Thank you," he finally says. "I needed that."

"Hmph. What you need is more sense and fewer idiotic plans. We're going to talk about that, just as soon as I make sure you aren't about to die again. Lie back."

It's obvious that Ratio isn't going to take no for an answer, so Aventurine lets him do all the checking he wants, obediently cooperating with Ratio's every instruction. Still, when he's finally able to speak again, he can't help asking, "You're being very thorough, Doctor. Am I so fascinating?"

In answer, Ratio raises his head, fixing Aventurine with a glare. "Taking into consideration the fact that you almost died when I took your teasing at face value yesterday," Ratio answers, voice acerbic, "you'll forgive me if I no longer trust you and must ascertain your condition with my own eyes and hands."

"I…" Aventurine trails off, finding himself at a sudden loss for words. He's not too surprised to hear that he was on the brink of death — that's a common enough state for him. But there's a weight and emotion to Ratio's voice that goes against his expectations. He'd gambled on the fact that Ratio would try his best to keep him alive, just because of his well-tuned moral compass and sense of responsibility. But, well…

He hadn't expected Ratio to sound like he cared.

Aventurine closes his eyes before they can betray his thoughts, pulling himself back from that ridiculous idea. He knows perfectly well that Ratio doesn't like him. Aventurine is confident in his charms, but Ratio is the one person they've never worked on, and he doesn't hold any illusions of Ratio actually caring about him. Tolerating him, at best. Finding him fascinating and frustrating. Aventurine takes pride in getting any kind of reaction out of the good doctor, but he's not so stupid as to mistake Ratio's altruism for fondness.

With that reminder, Aventurine slowly opens his eyes, taking in Ratio's side profile. Ratio looks… worn out. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his hair is messy and rumpled. He's wearing one of his usual togas, but it's haphazardly draped over him, as if he'd just pulled it on in a hurry and never bothered fixing it. And now that Aventurine's taking a closer look at the room he's in, he recognises it. This is Ratio's bedroom… which means he's in Ratio's bed, and the other side of the bed is clearly untouched.

"Have you… been awake all this time?" Aventurine can't keep the surprise out of his voice. He knows Ratio is meticulous, and compassionate to a fault despite his sharp tongue — but even then, the idea that Ratio has watched over him for the better part of the day… the thought tugs at a tender spot in his heart he doesn't quite dare to linger on.

"It would have been dangerous to leave you unsupervised." Ratio says the words unfeelingly, but they don't change the fact that he's stayed up for more than a day just watching over Aventurine. "I would be derelict in my duty as a doctor if I were to simply leave, and I surmised from your actions that I could hardly call in someone else to back me up. So, I was left with no choice but to watch over you myself."

It's all perfectly logical, yet Aventurine feels his lips lifting anyway. Ratio may not care about him, specifically, but he's so stubborn when it comes to his duties. It's endearing — Aventurine would even call it cute, mostly because Ratio would hate that. "How responsible of you, Doctor. I knew that I'd come to the right person."

Ratio scoffs at that, turning to face Aventurine directly. "I have several questions about your choices," he says. "I expect you to answer them honestly. Don't try to dodge them."

"When am I anything but honest?" Aventurine can't help quipping, which Ratio ignores beyond a twitch of his eyebrow.

"Be quiet unless I ask you to explain yourself. You talk entirely too much." Ratio stares at him with such piercing focus that, for a brief second, it's as if he's staring straight down to Aventurine's bones. (Aventurine might even have thought Ratio was peering into his soul, if not for the fact that he isn't sure how much of that he has left.) "First of all — you chose to come here."

The words aren't phrased as a question or theory. Ratio says them with complete certainty, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Aventurine. "You specifically chose to shatter your Cornerstone within a minute's walk of my residence," he says. "I would go so far as to say that you purchased the property precisely for this reason. Is this correct?"

…Ratio really does see through all his plans with ease. Aventurine wonders if he should be offended, but that's always one of the qualities he's most admired about Ratio. Of course he's met plenty of other geniuses in the course of his work, including members of the Genius Society — but Ratio still stands out as one of the few with both sufficient worldly experience and knowledge to draw the right conclusions. Nous's blindness is the Genius Society's loss. "Do I really need to confirm that, seeing as you already have your answer?" Aventurine asks lightly.

"Just say yes or no, damned gambler."

"Demanding! I didn't expect that." Aventurine laughs, though the action has him lapsing into a fit of coughs at the end. Ugh, his chest does still hurt. Even so… Aventurine's lips lift in a slight smirk, even as he reaches up with a trembling hand to wipe away the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. "Well, all can I say is… it was all part of my plan."

"That is neither yes nor no. Are you allergic to those two basic words?" Ratio asks impatiently.

"As a doctor, I'm sure you're more than qualified to answer questions about my allergies." Ratio's irritated noise has Aventurine wanting to laugh again, and the only reason he resists is because he doesn't want to risk another coughing fit. Taking just a little mercy on Ratio, Aventurine adds, "I came here because I know you don't say no to people in need. Do you, Doctor?"

Ratio huffs out an irritated groan, bowing his head as he slaps a hand to his forehead. Aventurine would bet good money that he's currently resisting the urge to put on his plaster bust. "Fine," Ratio mutters. "I'll accept that as an answer, since I still need to ask about that asinine plan of yours."

"Of course. I did promise to be honest."

"You… never mind." Lifting his head to glare at Aventurine, Ratio raps his fingers against the nightstand, indicating the shards of Aventurine's shattered Cornerstone. "I know that you will be leaving for Penacony shortly. What do you hope to achieve by drastically reducing your combat and defensive capabilities before entering enemy territory?"

"Oh, don't call them enemies," Aventurine says with a light laugh. "They're just friends waiting to be made, aren't they?"

Ratio's scoff makes it perfectly clear what he thinks of Aventurine's rhetorical question without him saying a single word. Undeterred, Aventurine continues with, "What I'm doing is precisely the opposite, Ratio. Surely you've reached the same conclusion by now?"

"I would rather you spell it out," Ratio answers, crossing his arms. His gaze is piercing as he stares at Aventurine, which makes Aventurine wonder if this is a test of some kind. Though of what, he has no clue.

Don't try to dodge, Ratio had said. It's so much easier said than done. Honesty comes so easily to a man like Ratio, Aventurine can only be envious.

"In due time," Aventurine answers softly, leaning back against Ratio's pillows. "I don't have all the details yet. Just th — " His words are cut off by the twist of pain in his chest, a hiss making its way out as he reaches up to clutch at it. Damn it. Even though the pain is much improved from the night before — Ratio's efforts, no doubt — it's still much worse than he anticipated. "Just the shape of it," he bites out. "This is necessary. I promise that much."

The Cornerstones are all remarkable gems in their own right, hard to miss and nearly impossible to hide. But once shattered…. Aventurines were never valuable gemstones to begin with, and when reduced to shards, even his Cornerstone will look like little more than cheap counterfeit jewellery.

He can't make any promises to Ratio yet, not when he doesn't even know if Topaz and Jade will agree to what he has in mind. But perhaps his broken Cornerstone might be just the chip he needs to convince them.

From the corner of his eye, Aventurine can tell that Ratio is studying him with his usual assessing gaze. He wonders if Ratio will push, but after a few moments, Ratio lets his gaze drop — though his exasperated sigh says exactly how he feels about it.

"Fine," Ratio says, reluctance obvious in that single word. "Just know that the only reason I am not pressing you is because of your physical condition, and I expect a proper conversation on this topic in the future."

The rush of relief, almost dizzying in its strength, takes Aventurine off-guard. Since when has it become so hard to play his usual game with Ratio? He's losing his touch. "I'm always happy to have proper conversations with you, Ratio." Aventurine's voice comes out a little softer than he meant it to, which seems to catch Ratio by surprise for a second before he recovers.

"Don't try to change the subject." Ratio nudges aside a shard of the shattered aventurine to rest his hand upon the nightstand. "I expect you to have a good reason for this, because right now, all I can think is that you have indeed gone mad. Did you simply choose to ignore the consequences of shattering your own Cornerstone? Your power is but a fraction of what it was. Your position in the IPC is the most precarious it has ever been. Should word get out, it would take but a single touch to topple you.

"And the physical repercussions…" Ratio's fingers tighten on the nightstand. "If I had not been around to treat you, you may very well have died." He pauses, drawing in a long breath. "No — I am quite certain you would have, in the absence of medical attention."

Ratio's voice is even, but there's a weight to it that catches Aventurine by surprise. The thought evidently bothers Ratio more than Aventurine expected. It does make sense when Aventurine thinks about it, though it takes him a moment to figure out why. It would be terribly inconvenient for Ratio to explain himself to the IPC if Aventurine died in his home. The rumours would never abate.

Aventurine does feel a little apologetic, thinking of that. He'd certainly set out knowing he'd inconvenience Ratio, but he hadn't wanted to cause that much trouble — just take up a few hours of his time. Though, of course, Ratio's already spent over a day taking care of him… so Aventurine will have to admit that he miscalculated this. "I appreciate you saving me, then," he says lightly. For some reason, the words make Ratio's frown cut even deeper. Does Aventurine sound so unconvincing? "And in my defence, I did make sure to have a doctor nearby before executing my plan."

"If you thought that far, then you would also realise that across the street in a storm is not nearby in this context," Ratio snaps. "Nearby should have meant next to you. In the next room, at most."

There's an indignance to Ratio's voice that has Aventurine's lips lifting. He says the words like they're a given — as though he would have willingly given up his time to stand by for medical attention, and is affronted that he hasn't been asked. For all his airs and scoffs, Ratio truly is a kind person at heart. His goodness is simple and direct, even when it comes to people who don't deserve it.

"I'll remember that for next time," Aventurine answers, keeping his voice light. "I thought…"

"I don't believe you've thought at all," Ratio cuts in, "or you would have realised where this foolish plan you conjured up would lead you to."

The derision in Ratio's voice is oddly comforting. There's a certain note of I thought better of you about it, which is charming. Aventurine doesn't think Ratio has a particularly good impression of him, but Ratio doesn't have a good impression of anyone — so relative to others, Aventurine might rank about average. "But I did." Aventurine reaches over to pick up a sliver of his Cornerstone, toying with it between his fingers like he plays with his chips. "I knew."

"You — " Ratio hisses, but Aventurine cuts him off before he can say anything else.

"Why else do you think that whenever Diamond chooses — or intends to choose — a new Stoneheart, he goes into seclusion, and Jade speaks on his behalf?"

The moment of silence that follows tells Aventurine that Ratio has not, in fact, taken that into consideration. Then again, he isn't privy to the processes behind the actual selection of a Stoneheart. As it is, this had just been a theory that Aventurine had pieced together from a stray thought following his induction and old leave records… at least, until he'd proven it with this experiment.

Putting down the shard of his Cornerstone, Aventurine sags back against the pillows with a tired sigh. He's really not looking forward to the recovery process, and it's barely started. "To be fair," he murmurs, keeping his voice low just to conserve his energy, "Diamond almost definitely has a much better method of sharing his power than the one I chose. Unfortunately, those are Emanator secrets above my pay grade, so I had to make do."

Ratio silently passes him another glass of water. Aventurine has no idea when he even refilled that, but he appreciates it. This time he does obey Ratio's previous instructions and takes small sips, letting the silence hang in the air until he finishes the glass and hands it back to Ratio. Neither of them comment on the way Aventurine's hand shakes. "My point still remains," Aventurine says. "If breaking away a segment of power using a less violent method is enough to take Diamond out of commission, it's easy to surmise the consequences of forcefully shattering a Cornerstone." Aventurine laughs. "Well. At least now I know I wasn't wrong. I made the right gamble."

Ratio's fingers clench tightly around the glass he'd taken back from Aventurine. He sucks in a deep breath, looking as if he's bracing for a long lecture — which has Aventurine doing the same — but then, in the end, all Ratio says is, "Damned gambler."

"Oh, we're back to that again?" Aventurine pulls up a smile, but he thinks he must not have managed to make it look convincing from Ratio's frown. Or maybe Ratio's just annoyed by the topic he's bringing up. "Yesterday…"

He doesn't even manage to finish his sentence this time before the familiar tightness in his chest cuts him off. That's all the warning he gets before he's overwhelmed by another spasm of coughs, his hand flying to his mouth as he hunches over.

It hurts. This coughing fit is even worse than the ones before, leaving his shoulders shaking and tears pricking at his eyes. It's difficult to catch his breath; his head is swimming, and his mouth is filled with the taste of blood yet again. He swallows uncomfortably, hating how weak he feels. The only reason he hasn't yet collapsed back on the bed is —

…Is Ratio holding him?

It takes a few long moments before the disorientation fades enough for Aventurine to register that his guess is correct. It's not unlike the way Ratio kept him upright at the door yesterday. He lets Aventurine lean against his chest, bracing him by the waist. The only difference is the way Ratio's free hand strokes down his back, a surprisingly gentle movement that has Aventurine trembling from the comfort of it despite himself.

Ratio breathes out a sigh that sounds somehow helpless, his arm shifting around Aventurine's waist. Aventurine expects Ratio to push him off and let go, but instead, he's drawn more securely into Ratio's arms.

Aventurine's breath stutters, and it isn't entirely because of the pain in his chest. There's a comment on the tip of his tongue, but even if he could muster the strength and breath to speak right now, he knows better than to push his luck at this point.

There's a fragility to this moment. If he isn't careful, it'll shatter — and he doesn't want it to.

He doesn't think Ratio does, either.

The silence stretches on as Aventurine catches his breath, letting himself indulge in Ratio's warmth for a few precious seconds. The exhaustion that's been dogging at his heels has caught up. It makes it easy to just lean in, relaxing into Ratio's arms. The thought crosses his mind that he wouldn't mind staying like this; he could just let himself drift off to sleep. He gets to enjoy this comfort, and both of them can pretend that this never happened after he wakes up.

…But, at the end of the day, he's a gambler. He'll push his luck after all.

"Yesterday," Aventurine repeats, picking up from where he left off before his body betrayed him. Not that it's behaving now; it still hurts to talk, and he doesn't sound particularly dignified either since his voice is half-muffled in Ratio's chest. But he's sure Ratio heard him from the way the arm around his waist tightens. "You called me by my name."

It's a long moment before Ratio speaks, voice deliberately even. "What about it? You were losing consciousness. I called out to you. It was only natural to use your name."

"Mm-hm. Yes." Despite his best efforts, Aventurine's eyes are closing. It's warm, and Ratio doesn't call him out when he shifts to get into a more comfortable position rather than pulling away. "Very natural."

"And? What exactly is your point?" Ratio's impatience is clear in his voice, which only makes Aventurine more amused. It's such a contrast to the way Ratio reaches up to adjust the bathrobe where it's started to slip off Aventurine's shoulder. Speaking of which, Aventurine hadn't thought about it until this very moment, but this is Ratio's bathrobe, isn't it?

Aventurine really might just get the wrong impression of what Ratio thinks of him if Ratio goes on making choices like these.

"What if I told you I liked it?"

The complete silence that meets his words is really an answer in and of itself. Aventurine pays careful attention to the way Ratio tenses, the sharp intake of breath just before the arm around Aventurine's waist is withdrawn. Instead of pulling away, Ratio grips Aventurine's shoulders to bodily steer him back down on the bed, glaring at him.

"Go to sleep," Ratio mutters. "You clearly aren't in your right mind."

Despite the hostility of his words, Ratio's voice is soft, lacking its usual edge. It's nice to hear. Satisfied at the results of his gamble, Aventurine settles back without objection. He could start an argument about his perfectly sound mind, but he is tired, and he already got a reaction from Ratio worth mulling over. He'll stop here for now.

"Get some sleep too," Aventurine mumbles into the pillow. "Don't want you… collapsing as well…"

He only just woke up a little while ago, but sleep is beckoning again. Aventurine doesn't fight it; he lets it take over, sinking into it. Just before he goes under, he hears Ratio sigh out loud, and catches the end of his sentence.

"…Worry about yourself first."

Most of the day passes in a haze, but a surprisingly comfortable one. Ratio's care is both comprehensive and fastidious. Aventurine is fully expecting Ratio to tell him he's outstayed his welcome when he next wakes up — but instead, he's greeted by hot soup and Ratio telling him that he's run a bath (and that Aventurine isn't allowed to complain about the temperature, because he isn't supposed to have a bath that's too hot at this point, and a few other naggy things that Aventurine tunes out).

It's… domestic is the best word Aventurine can think of to describe it, which isn't a word he ever thought he would associate with Ratio. But then again, he's had to recalibrate a lot of his thoughts about Ratio over the past day or two, so it's all part of the process.

Aventurine ends up spending most of the day sleeping. By the time he wakes again, it's dark outside, and light rain is falling. It isn't a storm, at least not yet; just a faint, quiet drizzle, the kind that can fall all night without waking anyone up. Whatever woke him, it wasn't the rain.

His chest still aches, but at least it feels a little less like he got stabbed and more like he got punched a few times. He'll take it. Aventurine doesn't bother trying to move or sit up, just stays still in bed while he takes stock of his surroundings.

Ratio is still here. Aventurine can hear his voice, though it's muffled; he's probably in the bathroom. Maybe in the bath, for all Aventurine knows. He'll take it as a good sign that he's recovering. The room is too dim for him to make out any details when he opens his eyes, but he can tell that he's alone, so Ratio must at least trust that he's not about to die in his sleep.

Aventurine's just about to drift off again when he catches the name that's been on his mind for the past few weeks: "…Penacony. In time for the festival."

Interest piqued, Aventurine rolls over, opening his eyes again. Is Ratio trying to look into his plan? Aventurine wonders if he should be flattered. As a rule, Ratio is inquisitive in the way scholars often are, but he isn't nosy — quite the opposite, in fact. He isn't one for gossip or poking around behind people's backs. The fact that he cares enough to investigate the Penacony project must say something; Aventurine just can't decide what it says.

The bathroom door is pushed ajar, letting out a sliver of light and a cloud of steam, and allowing Aventurine to more clearly hear what Ratio is saying. "…Yes. I need the invitation. As far as I understand, Professor Zagaynov has no intention of attending, correct? …Then tell them to transfer it to my name."

Wait a moment. Is Ratio making arrangements to go to Penacony? That's unexpected. Aventurine had heard that the Intelligentsia Guild received an invitation, but he hadn't thought anyone intended to attend… at least, until now. "Fine, contact The Family if you must," Ratio snaps, a touch of impatience to his voice. "I expect the proper arrangements to be made. Give me an update within twenty-four system hours. Goodnight."

The door is pushed open fully on the last word, treating Aventurine to the sight of Ratio dressed in nothing but a towel and glaring at his phone. It's… a memorable view. A trail of water drips down the column of Ratio's throat, catching the light before disappearing into the hollow of his collarbone, and if he would just turn a little to the side so the light wasn't just shining on his back, Aventurine would be able to see —

What is he doing? Squeezing his eyes shut, Aventurine diverts his thoughts back to what he'd heard instead. So Ratio's going to Penacony. Aventurine doesn't doubt that the arrangements will be pushed through, one way or another; once Ratio sets his mind to something, he always sees it through. Ratio's presence isn't something that he factored into his any of his plans, but perhaps…

"I see you're awake again," Ratio says, startling Aventurine into opening his eyes. At least Ratio has put on a bathrobe now, which makes it easier for Aventurine to focus on his face instead of getting distracted. "Are you trying to pretend to be asleep? Don't bother. I assume you heard my conversation."

Oh, well. No real point in denying it when he's been caught. At least Ratio hadn't called him out for ogling. "Not on purpose," Aventurine answers, speaking slowly both so he won't aggravate his condition and to give himself time to come up with a decent response. "I didn't take you for the type to want to visit the Land of Dreams, Doctor."

"I have my reasons." Ratio's voice is perfectly even, betraying no hint of emotion. Walking over, he grips Aventurine's shoulders, bodily steering him into a seated position. For his part, Aventurine just lets Ratio manipulate his body freely; he gets the feeling that if he tried to move or argue that he could sit up himself, he'd just be told to stay quiet.

The examination is just as thorough as the past couple of times, but it's not a surprise. Ratio is a meticulous man, after all. He mostly ignores Aventurine's teasing questions, but it doesn't stop Aventurine from asking them anyway: "Why the frown, Professor? How's the prognosis? Is it as bad as that? Should I be worried for my life?"

"You will need to worry if you go on interrupting me," Ratio snaps as he finishes putting on his stethoscope, pressing the cool disc to Aventurine's chest. "Now take a deep breath."

Ah, this part. It really shouldn't be difficult, but Aventurine's body disagrees. Aventurine's breath trembles on the end of his inhale, his eyes squeezed shut and fingers digging into his palm as he tries to breathe deeply through the pain in his chest. In the end, he doesn't even manage to wait for Ratio's instruction to exhale — the action sends him into another fit of coughs that leave him dizzy by the end, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. He only just woke up, but he feels tired again already.

"…If you turn up on Penacony with that cough, you'll be barred entry and sent to a hospital." Ratio's voice is a mix of exasperation and what sounds almost like concern. Soft fabric brushes against Aventurine's lips; he hadn't thought any blood had made it out, but it seems that he'd been wrong. "You're a fool for doing this, gambler, and don't think I've forgotten that you haven't told me why."

"I haven't… forgotten, that is." Aventurine bites back an undignified moan when he feels Ratio's arm slide around his shoulders, tugging him forward and letting Aventurine lean on him to stay upright. Is this going to be a thing? Will Ratio continue to let Aventurine lean on him for support, just like that?

"…And? Is that all you're saying?" Ratio huffs out an exasperated sigh that has a smile tugging on Aventurine's lips, despite the situation. "You're certainly as forthcoming as ever. Your inability to trust is always reassuring."

Aventurine tries for a laugh in response, but it comes out sounding so weak and breathless he thinks he may have achieved the opposite effect of the light-heartedness he intended. Oh, well. "It's not about trust," he answers softly. "I can't tell you the plan because I don't know what it is yet, Ratio."

At those words, Aventurine feels Ratio tense around him. Is it that surprising? Aventurine waits for a moment, wondering if Ratio will put that into words; but when he remains silent, Aventurine goes on speaking. "I need to speak to Topaz… and Jade, as well. It all depends on what they agree to. I suspect they'll be hard to convince, but I'm hoping…"

Aventurine draws as deep a breath as he dares, turning his head so he can see the broken shards of his Cornerstone. They're still glowing faintly on the nightstand, casting an eerie green light in the darkness. "I hope what I've done will help to prove my resolve."

Ratio is silent for a very long moment after that. Only the sound of falling rain fills the space between them, growing ever louder with every passing second. The storm is picking up again. "You shattered your Cornerstone to bargain with your colleagues," Ratio finally says, an incredulous note to his voice. "That is the entire purpose?"

"Well… the fact that it's broken should be relevant later as well. But at this stage, yes." Aventurine exhales slowly and carefully. "It's nothing more than a bargaining chip."

"Ha." Ratio lets out a mirthless laugh, grip tightening around Aventurine's shoulders. It almost feels… protective? "To think you would shatter your Cornerstone without even having a fully-formed plan in place. I won't deny that it sounds like your style, you damned gambler."

"I'm flattered. You know me well, Doctor." It's… nicer than he expected, being held in Ratio's arms like this. Aventurine thinks he could get used to it. "I do want to ask… since you're coming to Penacony as well, Professor… can I count on your help?"

Ratio scoffs. "What do you think?"

Well, coming from Ratio, that's basically an agreement. He would just say 'no' if he didn't want to help. For someone who'd accused him of being allergic to yes or no, Ratio is making an amusing demonstration on how to dodge around the words here. "Thank you, Ratio. That's good enough."

Whatever Ratio wanted to say in reply, it's lost as Aventurine is overwhelmed by yet another coughing fit. It hurts as much as ever, but Ratio is once again stroking his back, and the repetitive movement gives Aventurine something else to focus on while he struggles to catch his breath. "I would like to reiterate that you will not be allowed into Penacony with that cough," Ratio mutters. "What if the grand plan you have yet to make comes to nothing because of that?"

Ratio's words are as sharp as ever, but they don't hide the concern between the lines. Aventurine exhales shakily, drawing slow, careful breaths as he replies. "I'm sure it'll fade… by the time I have to leave for Penacony, I'll be fine."

"And do you know that for sure, or are you just gambling on it?"

Well. It looks Ratio's seen through him already, for all that Aventurine tried to sound confident in his promise. Aventurine has to admit, he doesn't have much of a retort. The simple truth is that Ratio's correct; he's just gambling on recovering in time, and doesn't exactly have a frame of reference for it. It isn't as if he knows anyone else who's broken a Cornerstone, and asking Diamond is out of the question.

But all he needs is for the cough to get better, or at least easier to hide. The invisible symptoms, like the dizziness and headache, don't pose any risk to his image, and he's long used to playing his part under far poorer physical conditions. This won't be a hard gamble to win.

"I'm confident I'll clear any medical tests they administer. This isn't a known condition, you know?" Aventurine breathes out a sigh, letting his eyes fall shut. "Anyway, you'll be there, won't you? Doctor." Aventurine presses in a little closer, just short of snuggling into Ratio's arms. The movement has Ratio's arms tensing around him momentarily, but he doesn't show any signs of letting go, so Aventurine decides to call his gamble a victory. "So… you can keep an eye on me."

Ratio huffs out an irritated sigh. "Don't take this the wrong way," he says coolly. "This isn't about you. There are strange schemes afoot in Penacony, and I have no doubt that they will be exposed in the upcoming Charmony Festival. I am not volunteering to be your personal babysitter."

Aventurine smiles into Ratio's chest, humming softly. "Of course not. I don't need you to babysit me, Doctor. I just need you to be my…" Aventurine considers his word choice carefully for a long moment. With the way he's leaning against Ratio, he can hear Ratio's heartbeat; and he's sure Ratio will never admit it, but Aventurine can tell that it's just a little faster than before. "…Partner," he finishes.

Ratio is perfectly still for several long seconds. Even though his eyes are closed, Aventurine is sure that Ratio's staring at him. Perhaps he's finally pushed his luck too far? He could have gone with the neutral option of ally, or drawn back a little with his most universal choice of friend, but the deliberate double meaning is now hanging in the air between them.

So it's just a question of whether Ratio will match his bet.

When Ratio finally shifts, Aventurine expects him to pull away, but he doesn't. He stays as he is, arms around Aventurine, letting Aventurine's head rest against his chest. "…It would help if you described exactly what that entailed," Ratio answers. His voice is carefully even. "You can't expect everyone to keep up with your gambits."

…That's not a rejection.

"I know you can keep up, Doctor." Aventurine opens his eyes just a fraction, chancing a glance upwards, and the sight of Ratio's creased brow and focused gaze have a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Can't you?"

Ratio bites out a frustrated groan, narrowing his eyes. "Just tell me one thing," he says, his tone brooking no room for argument. "Did you mean it?"

It's obvious what he's asking. Aventurine closes his eyes again, dipping his head. "I always mean what I say," Aventurine whispers.

The echo of Ratio's heartbeat is a soothing rhythm, lulling him into momentary peace. Although Aventurine can hear the storm raging outside, it feels distant. With Ratio holding him, the ever-present pain feels muted; even if the rain and lightning last for hours, the storm can't reach him here. Aventurine will never enjoy storms, but for now all he feels is warm, comfortable — and safe.

He can't remember the last time he felt this way. He wouldn't mind staying like this; he could just let himself drift off to sleep. He gets to enjoy this comfort, and this time, he knows he won't be alone when he wakes up.

Ratio's sigh is barely audible above the storm, but Aventurine can just manage to make out the familiar note of helplessness to it. "You could have just said yes or no, Aventurine." Ratio's voice is soft, the words filled with warmth layered over a hint of exasperation. "Damned gambler…"

Shifting, Ratio draws Aventurine more securely into his arms. Just before he slips into slumber, Aventurine feels the lightest whisper of a touch over his forehead, and the gust of Ratio's breath ruffling his hair.

The wind may howl and the thunder may rumble, but all is calm in the eye of the storm.