Work Text:
Dr. Ratio.
To describe how Ratio felt as unwell would be a severe understatement.
He rose from bed one morning. The sun hadn't risen yet, but that had become his normal over the past few weeks.
What wasn't expected, however, was the strange heat afflicting him. Veritas grimaced at the feeling of his clothes sticking to sweat-soaked skin. He felt he'd need to bathe for hours to rid himself of the disgusting sensation.
He pushed himself up shakily on a typically strong arm. Now, he felt drained of strength, weary, his body wanting nothing more than to continue lying there.
Veritas shook his head, attempting to clear the weight blanketing his thoughts. He had work to do; he couldn't afford to rest now.
Summoning what little strength remained, Ratio dragged himself from his bed, using the wall for support. The world spun around him, prompting him to close his eyes, waiting for the disorientation to diminish.
When it passed at last, he carefully made his way to the bathroom, moving slowly to avoid triggering another dizzy spell.
Due to the time-constrained nature of his current life, Ratio had been forced to trade his leisurely baths for hasty showers. Needless to say, he greatly missed the former. Showers failed to cleanse the mind as baths did.
Stumbling into the bathroom, Veritas quickly disrobed, desperate to be rid of the sweat-soaked garments. As he was doing so, he caught a glimpse of his complexion in the mirror, momentarily halting his movements.
His skin was clammy and pallid, his hair sticking to his forehead and face, and he could practically see sweat beading upon it. Minute tremors wracked his body, which he'd been unaware of until he beheld them with his eyes, which appeared clouded and unfocused—nothing like his typical harsh stare.
In short, he looks horrid .
Ratio tore his eyes from the unbecoming sight. How could this have happened? It had only been a couple of weeks; surely, he was more resilient than this. . .
Despite numerous attempts, he failed to will his brain to work. Thus, he opted to ignore the issue for the time being, stepping into the cold shower, allowing the water to wash away that disgusting feeling. He hoped it would breathe new energy into him so he might get through today.
It was nearly finished. By the end of this week, it would all be over. He was only required to last a while longer, and then he could rest.
He repeated this mantra in his mind, hoping to perhaps power through by means of sheer willpower instead.
After only a few minutes, Ratio turned off the water. He lacked the luxury of time to stay longer despite his body wishing he might. Yet, his mind remained stubborn.
Do your work; you have tasks to tend to.
After nearly stumbling out of the shower, Ratio managed to steady himself with the wall. Though he felt slightly better after cleansing himself, he still felt far too drained.
Logically, Veritas knew he was sick. Of course, he did; he wasn't an idiot. Therefore, logically, he also understood he should take medicine and get proper rest. Yet, using the same logic, he knew that was impossible. The world of geniuses awaits no one. If you fall behind, you are left behind. If you fail your tasks, you're considered a failure.
Ratio convinced himself of this as he dressed for the day, nearly recoiling from the sensation of clothes touching his skin. He gritted his teeth against the urge, forcing himself to regain his composure.
He quickly finished dressing, glancing at the clock, which read 5:03 AM.
Ratio frowned; he should have been out the door fifteen minutes ago.
He snatched his phone from his charger, hastily packing the last few things he needed and grabbed some medicine to aid his current condition. Ratio checked himself one last time in the mirror, ensuring he appeared at least somewhat presentable before rushing out the door, towards the University.
By noon, Ratio felt like a deflated balloon. All energy had wholly abandoned him, leaving him feeling shaky and weak. The medicine only assuaged his condition slightly, yet it had entirely worn off by now.
He furrowed his brow, attempting to will his eyes to focus on the parchment before him, rubbing circles on his temples, trying to garner some relief from the throbbing headache afflicting him. It wasn't working.
With every passing moment, it felt as if the world were slipping further and further away, leaving him floating in an endless void. Part of him almost welcomed it, yet most stubbornly refused to succumb to rest.
He shook his head in an attempt to clear the fog, yet quickly realized that was a horrible idea. Blood pounded in his head, causing his vision to blur completely. There was a numb, ringing sound echoing through his ears. Ratio squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the pain to abate. His head throbbed incessantly, triggering nausea clawing its way up his throat. Vertigo slammed into him without warning, prompting him to warily place his head on his desk for fear of losing consciousness.
It felt as though it dragged on for an eternity, and Ratio was forced to consider the possibility he might pass out right there at his desk.
What an unbecoming display that would be.
When it had finally died down to a tolerable level, Ratio gingerly opened his eyes, flinching at the brightness assaulting his senses. A tired sigh left his lips; however, the stacks of parchment reminded him of his tasks.
He attempted to resume his work yet found it harder than before to focus. The words were swimming across the pages; no, the entire desk was morphing. . .
The sound of his office door opening snapped Ratio's attention back to reality, shooting a harsh glare at the one who hadn't bothered to knock.
"It is polite to ask for admittance, Gambler."
The Gambler in question simply shrugged. "My sincerest apologies, Doctor, but you see, I was pressed for time." There was absolutely nothing sincere about his tone.
Ratio sighed, too exhausted to bother arguing with him. "What do you want?" He demanded, voice betraying his irritation.
Aventurine strutted over, dropping a file onto Ratio's desk. "Took a little longer than expected to get through, but the report you sent the prior week is here at last."
Ratio stared at the files, obviously taking far too long to process Aventurine's words. He wracked his brain, trying to fish up memories of this report. He'd completed and sent in so many they'd all begun to blur together.
Aventurine lingers where he stood, that stupid smile still plastered on his face.
Ratio's brow twitched. "You may leave now. Or do you truly possess such an abundance of time you can afford to stand there and watch like a-"
A violent cough cut him off, causing Aventurine's eyes to widen imperceptibly. He dry heaved several times, feeling the sensation of bile rising in his throat. Grimacing, he forced himself to swallow, a burning sensation traveling along with it.
"You look awful." He said once Ratio's fit had receded.
Ratio sucked in a shaky breath, failing to keep his voice steady. "Must you always run your mouth?"
Aventurine held up his hands. "Hey, I'm just making an observation—an " educated guess," as you'd like to call it." His tone was light and playful, yet his eyes told a different story.
Aventurine's eyes scanned him over, scrutinizing his condition. "Uh, are you sure you should be working?"
Ratio gritted his teeth. "That is none of your concern. Please, spare me your false pleasantries and leave. I have many unfinished tasks which require attending."
Aventurine pouted. "Aw, Doc, you wound me. What do you take me for?"
This earned him a sharp glare from the one before him. It would have been more intimidating if Ratio hadn't looked two steps away from collapse.
Despite the other's disapproval, Aventurine continued to blabber. "I'm only voicing my utmost concerns for a friend. That's all."
Ratio nearly laughed. "Friend? Is that what you'd call our relationship, Gambler?"
Aventurine offered a cheeky grin. "Of course! I consider all my partnerships to be my dearest friends. "
Ratio rubbed the bridge of his nose; there wasn't any point in debating the subject further. Aventurine's perception of friendship was already far too warped to be salvaged by logic.
The sound of footfalls rounding the desk perked him up, finding Aventurine now standing by his side. Though he still wore his trademark, amiable business smile, there was something else present—a certain tension pulling at the corners of his lips.
As Ratio was in the process of discerning its meaning, he felt Aventurine's hand upon his arm. Startling him back into his senses, he hadn't realized he'd zoned out in the first place.
"What do you think you are doing?" He intended to sound imperious, yet his voice came out hoarse and scratchy instead.
"Taking you home, of course." With that, he hoisted Ratio out of his seat, the Doctor rising surprisingly easily. It was clear from the amount of strength used that Aventurine had anticipated more resistance than what was given.
The world spun around him as he stood on shaky legs, nausea building in his throat. If it weren't for Aventurine supporting him, he would've fallen flat on his face. Perhaps his disorientation was apparent, as Aventurine made no attempt to move, observing Ratio with utmost care.
A few moments passed in complete silence, save for the ticking clock and Ratio's uneven breaths. Once the nausea passed, Ratio gingerly opened his eyes again, having no memory of closing them.
He was met with Aventurine's indiscernible gaze, watching him closely. Ratio must've truly been out of it, for he thought he could see a flicker of concern on that Gambler's face.
Suddenly, Ratio felt overwhelmed with shame. Here he was, relying on Aventurine to continue standing, leaning nearly all his body weight on the smaller man, making for an extremely awkward position. The sight of his desk, strewn with unfinished papers, stirred turmoil within him, feeding his shame.
How could it be like this? Hadn't he endured worse before? Has he truly grown so weak?
"Hey, Doctor, you feeling okay enough to walk?"
That irritable voice cut through his thoughts. Despite the inner turmoil waging inside him, Ratio simply nodded. His mind and body were all but spent, and he could offer no resistance nor deny logic. There was no possible solution which would allow him to complete his work now. He required rest, this was the reality he now must accept. If he were to continue refuting this, he would be no better than a fool.
Aventurine hoisted Ratio's arm over his shoulder before taking a step forward.
It was challenging due to the size imbalance between them. Not only was Ratio taller, but far more muscular, leading to Aventurine carrying more than he had bargained for. They moved uneasily towards the door, Aventurine trying to avoid tripping on his own feet while supporting the taller man.
Ratio dreaded exiting his office, unable to tolerate the humiliation of his students witnessing this mortifying display of weakness.
Thankfully, The Aeons decided not to curse him with such a situation. Instead, they stepped into an empty hallway. He determined most of the students had likely departed for lunch, granting them an easy escape route.
As they stumbled down the hall his surroundings seemed to fade in and out, a darkness creeping up his peripheral vision. While Ratio initially attempted to carry some of his own weight; the longer they trod, the more strength failed him.
By the time they reached the exit, Aventurine nearly supported his entire body weight. Thankfully, The Stoneheart had the sense to take him through the back exit to avoid prying eyes.
As they stepped outside sunlight assaulted his sensitive eyes, prompting his migraine to surge. Ratio was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of nausea, smashing into him so severely it prompted him to lurch forward without warning. Bile once again rose in his throat, and this time, he was powerless to stop it.
He doesn't recall what occurred, yet he knows he's now on his knees, retching onto the pavement. There's a hand on his back, rubbing soothing motions, yet his muddled mind can't process more than that.
Everything fades in and out of existence, the word spinning rapidly. He can vaguely make out someone speaking to him, yet he can't figure out what they are saying. His head feels as if it’s being split in two, he wished for a moment he could rip out his brain, do anything to lessen the pain.
The hand on his back ceases its movement, instead transferring to his arm. Squeezing as if to catch his attention.
Another volley of nausea hits him harder than the last. He heaves desperately, yet nothing comes out, offering him no relief as his dizziness continues to grow.
He glances to the side, making out the faint image of Aventurine, watching him with a look of surprise mingled with concern?
Again? Perhaps he hadn't been mistaken. . .
That was the last thought flickering in his mind before it at last gave in to the darkness. He doesn't register the feeling of falling forward nor the sensation of hitting the pavement. Instead, he was finally offered solace, floating in an endless void.
Aventurine
Aventurine had never known Ratio to easily fall ill. The man was stubborn in all respects of life, and health was no exception. Stubborn immune system, stubborn self-care routine, stubborn sleep schedule. This was why he struggled to piece together how he'd allowed himself to get to such a state.
Reaching out, he placed a cool hand on Ratio's sweat-soaked forehead, furrowing his brows in concern. The Doctor was at an alarming temperature. Despite Aventurine doing all he could to maintain his fever, it refused to cease its climb.
My, Ratio, you always turn out so stubborn, even regarding important matters.
He reached for a towel, dipping it in cool water before brushing off Ratio's clammy forehead. Aside from a slight twitch in his brow, he didn't react much.
Aventurine smiled softly at the sight.
"You're so wound tight even while asleep, huh Ratio?" He spoke with more tenderness than he meant.
Ratio gave no response, instead continuing to lay there, brow knit tightly as if something were concerning him in his sleep. Aventurine smirked, brushing a thumb over the furrowed part of Ratio's brow, attempting to smooth the wrinkle.
"Hey, Doc, didn't I tell you if you keep furrowing your brow constantly, you're going to end up with wrinkles?" he jested to himself.
In truth, it was all he could do to prevent boredom. It wasn't as if Ratio had any interesting books or games lying around. Playing the TV might wake him, and Aventurine was avoiding his phone so he didn't have to see all the missed messages from The IPC.
Instead, he moved to grab the ice pack, pressing the cold pack against Ratio's neck and forehead. Watching every minute movement of the ailing man.
It was strange to see him in such a vulnerable state. Ratio had always appeared akin to stone, a perfect statue depicting an unmovable and unwavering figure. Nothing could crack him, and nothing could hurt him. Perhaps that was the very image he meant to project.
Yet now, there was no such visage; it had all but crumbled entirely, leaving only one who was so clearly human—one who Aventurine felt hadn't had someone to take care of him in a long time.
The thought filled Aventurine with an unspoken melancholy as he returned the ice pack to the bedside, taking out a cooling patch to place on Ratio's neck and forehead.
I wonder how Ratio will react when he awakens to find me in his house.
He shook away the concern immediately. So what if he gets upset? There was hardly a reality in which Aventurine would have left him on his own after witnessing such a display from earlier.
Moments after he'd consoled himself with this, Ratio began to stir, drawing his attention back to his patient. Quickly, he finished placing the cooling patch, leaning back to avoid encroaching on the other man's space.
"How are we feeling, Doctor?" He inquired softly, not wishing to worsen Ratio's headache.
Ratio blinked blearily. His eyes fogged and clouded. It was nothing like the sharp golden glare he was used to seeing. Aventurine shifted where he sat, trying to mask his worry with nonchalance.
He appeared to be struggling to focus, staring directly at Aventurine, yet seemingly right through him. Eyes focusing on something only Ratio could see.
Aventurine glanced behind him, his movement prompting Ratio to stir further. For a brief moment Aventurine considered waving a hand to get the mans attention, yet before he can do so Ratio's eyes suddenly snap towards him, startling him into jerking back.
Ratio continued to stare directly at him, expression wholly unreadable.
Aventurine cleared his throat. "Ah, Ratio, are you thirsty?" He slipped on an amiable smile, partly trying to recover from his shock, partly attempting to appear harmless. The last thing he wished was for Ratio to throw a fit immediately after regaining consciousness.
Surprisingly, The Doctor merely heaved a tired sigh, tense form relaxing into the pillows in an odd display of defeat. Aventurine continued to smile awkwardly, unsure of what to do. He was considering fetching Ratio water regardless of his wishes, after all, with all the perspiration he was producing, he was surely becoming dehydrated. Additionally, Aventurine had a sneaking suspicion Ratio had neglected water throughout the day.
"Well, I'm going to get you some water, okay Doc? Stay put for me." The last part was an unnecessary statement, there was no possibility of Ratio attempting to move in his condition, even if he was a stubborn mule at times.
He made to stand, brushing invisible dust from his clothes, sparing one last glance to ensure Ratio wasn't about to hurl before leaving to grab some water, perhaps replacing the bowl as well; it had begun to warm after sitting for a while.
Upon returning he found The Doctor in a similar position as before, only now he'd somewhat managed to prop himself upright on some pillows, eyes fixated on the window beside him.
Aventurine strolled over, placing the fresh water bowl atop the nightstand. "Your water has arrived, Doctor." He declared with a singsong tone, hoping to brighten his patient's spirits.
It merely earned him a stare. Ratio said nothing, watching his every move like a weary animal. It was almost unnerving, and Aventurine almost wished he had thrown a fit. At the very least, it would have been more in line with the Doctor with whom he was familiar.
He smoothed over his discomfort with a grin, offering the man the water in his hand. Thankfully, Ratio complied, taking the glass in shaky hands and bringing it to his lips. The trembling nature of his hands sparked thoughts of liquid spilling all over the blankets, making Aventurine wish he'd held the water for him.
Once he was finished, Aventurine took back the glass, placing it down beside the bowl, and returned to his position asidethe bed. He waited for Ratio to speak, fiddling with the ring on his finger in an uncharacteristic display of nerves. The silence was downright suffocating; Aventurine shifted through potential conversation starters, wondering if that would only prove to further dampen Ratio's mood.
His train of thought was cut short by the man clearing his throat, causing him to perk up.
Ratio's gaze was glued to his lap as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. "I. . ." He faltered, the ordinarily sharp-tongued, quick-witted Doctor oddly hesitant. He fell silent for a moment, seemingly mulling over his following words.
"I do not naturally possess the ability to easily express gratitude. . ." His eyes flickered between Aventurine and the blankets. Seeing the confident man now reduced to a nervous wreck brought about complicated feelings. Aventurine furiously stamped out the part of him that felt endeared by the sight.
I can't seriously be thinking things like that right now.
He leaned back in a casual manner, feigning indifference. "Well, I've found the best way to overcome that is to simply do it. Can't hurt, right?" In truth, he was rather shocked. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever imagine Ratio genuinely thanking him. A part of him wanted to check The Doctor for traces of possession. That or determine whether the fever had all but entirely fried his brain.
Ratio tapped his fingers, a habit he often practiced whenever he fell deep in thought. The sight of him diligently considering how best to present a thank you had an amusing quality to it. Aventurine had never witnessed someone so concentrated while forming an expression of gratitude.
Ratio sucked in a breath, shoulders tense as he locked his eyes with Aventurine's. "I wish to state my sincerest appreciation for your care and aid. If there is any means of repayment you require in the future, I shall do so in full." His voice was rigid and stern.
Combined with the awkward thanks, his sincere expression, and his fever flushed face, Aventurine found himself oddly endeared. However, for Ratio's sake he pushed down the bubbling urge to laugh, schooling his face to become composed.
"Your profound sincerity has been noted and is currently in review for further evaluation."
His words caused Ratio to turn away with a huff, the jest of his words not lost on him.
Now, Aventurine allowed himself to laugh, patting the other man's shoulder in good spirits. "Ah, Doctor, Doctor, I was only joking!"
"Then perhaps you should educate yourself on evaluation of appropriate scenarios for jesting." He retorted, arms crossed tightly, refusing to face The Gambler who was grinning ear to ear.
"All right, All right, I won't tease you anymore." Aventurine laughed, deciding to spare the sickly man for the time being. Instead, he took the opportunity to place a hand on Ratio's forehead, prompting him to flinch back.
"Gambler. . ."
Aventurine shushed him. "Oh hush, let me take care of you." He pursed his lip, evidently his efforts had once more amounted to nothing. The Doctor was burning up, he feared if his fever developed higher he'd be forced to bring him to a hospital. Certainly, such a scenario was something neither party wished for.
"One moment." He moved to grab the thermometer. It would be safest to get an update on his temperature, ensure it hasn'tincreased to a dangerous number. The Doctor was uncharacteristically complicit, quietly allowing Aventurine to brush back his bangs.
His eyes fell to his lap, avoiding Aventurine's face, which was now in extremely close proximity to his own. Aventurine glimpsed a faint tremble through Ratio's body, however, he attributed it to his illness.
The thermometer beeped, and Aventurine sat back in his chair, he read the numbers, and glanced up with a smile. "Good news Doctor, your temperature hasn't increased since the last time I checked." If he was being frank, Aventurine felt more than proud of himself for at last maintaining the fever at a constant number.
Ratio, however, didn't appear to share his excitement. "Has it decreased in the slightest?"
Aventurine shrugged. "No, but a steady fever is better than a worsening fever."
A sigh escaped Ratio's lips, resting his head against the pillows, eyes trained upon the ceiling. He appeared in a state of melancholy. Undoubtedly, he was shifting through all the unfinished work-related tasks he's yet to complete.
Aventurine frowned at the sight. A sickly patient shouldn't be stressing over work! They should be resting and recovering, the strain would only worsen his condition. He leaned forward, flicking Ratio in-between his brows, earning a glare from the other man.
"Don't look at me like that. You need to learn how to turn off that big brain of yours." Aventurine lectured, ignoring the way Ratio's eyes bearing into him sparked warm feelings to rise in his chest.
Ratio scowled, turning his eyes away, much to Aventurine's relief. "Unlike a certain someone, I require my brain to always function in case of-"
"Sure, sure, but now is not the time for that." Honestly, Ratio could, at times, be more stubborn than The Ten Stonehearts combined. Aventurine could personally attest to that.
He sighed, speaking softly. "Hey, I don't mean to be rude. But you're going to run yourself into the ground if you keep working like this." An unspoken question lingered in the recesses of his mind.
Why did you allow yourself to get to this state in the first place?
It was an oddity above all else. Aventurine had always been on the receiving end of Ratio's endless lectures pertaining toself-care. He'd known The Doctor to soak for hours in his bath in order to cleanse his mind and rest his body. How could such an individual neglect their health in such a severe manner?
It was a moment before Aventurine realized he'd spaced out. Coming back to himself, he noticed Ratio had shifted away from him, back turned to face him instead. Aventurine glowered, slightly hurt at the sight. He'd just spent hours sitting by the man's side, and now he's being given the cold shoulder.
However, despite his vexation, Aventurine pushed down the words of retort.
You know Ratio, this is how he is. So deal with it. Lashing out won't help either of us.
Taking a deep breath, he poked Ratio's shoulder, hoping to garner the man's attention. He gave him no response, remaining as silent as stone.
He can't seriously be this upset with me now.
At the very least, he wasn't demanding Aventurine leave, so he decided to push just a little more.
"Doctor, can you look at me?" His voice sounded smaller than usual, and Aventurine was unsure if he had done it intentionally or not.
Still no response.
He tried again. "Ratio? Look at me, please?" This time, he shook the other man's shoulder, praying he wouldn't be thrown off.
Finally, Ratio turned to look at him, a deep frown fixed upon his handsome face. He appeared far more exhausted than he had moments ago, sparking Aventurine to falter in his words, unsure of how to proceed.
He watched hesitantly, sifting through the best ways to present his following question. Aventurine was undecided on the matter of going through with it, yet beholding Ratio in such poor health provoked worry deeply rooted within his heart. It was beyond strange, and should the origin of his peculiar behavior prove to be something serious, Aventurine certainly wished to be privy to the knowledge.
Thus, taking a deep breath, he faced Ratio's inquisitive gaze, steeling his resolve.
"Ratio, how could you allow your health to deteriorate to such an extent?"
He knew all too well The Doctor disliked being questioned on the matter of his actions regarding any subject, so, he prayed Ratio wouldn't take offense to his question. Instead of receiving a sharp retort, he was granted a tired sigh.
Aventurine grimaced at how utterly exhausted Ratio sounded. He was considering checking his temperature once more to ensure the fever hadn't resurged, however, Ratio shifted his body towards him, halting his musings in their tracks.
"I simply lacked ample time for rest."
Huh?
Aventurine's frown deepened, it was simultaneously an answer, yet also not. It didn't address why Ratio hadn't the time, nor why he allowed it to become so severe. Though in the past, Ratio had cramped schedules, he always handled them with such efficiency Aventurine found himself envious. Ratio time managed better than anyone he knows, and that truth has been consistent throughout the years. Now he expects him to believe he'd done a complete one-eighty and failed so horribly to manage his days that he fell so ill?
Aventurine wasn't buying that for a second. Honestly, he felt a little insulted. Ratio felt this was sufficient enough information to satisfy him. Did he truly believe Aventurine didn't care at all? When had he given off such an impression?
Despite the plethora of thoughts swimming inside his head, Aventurine pushed them down for the sake of pressing Ratio for a proper explanation.
He crossed his arms, squaring his eyes with Ratio's, causing the other man to knit his brows, no doubt wondering why Aventurine now wore such a severe expression.
"Ratio," he began in the calmest voice he could muster, considerate of the other mans ongoing migraine. "I know you dislike sharing personal issues. But, I know you well enough to be able to tell there's something deeper going on."
Admittedly, Aventurine didn't know Ratio as well as he should like. The man was an enigma; much like himself, he kept his cards close to his chest, never indulging too far on personal matters. Especially ones concerning his mental or physical well-being. Certainly, he would never consult in a lying scheming gambler such as himself. . .
He shook off the negative thoughts; now's not the time to wallow in self-pity. Instead, he resigned to awaiting Ratio's response, hoping he wasn't pushing things too far to the point of being kicked out entirely.
Ratio appeared to be mulling over his words, likely weighing his options. He seemed so small and vulnerable. It made Aventurine wish he could scoop him in his arms and reassure him of everything, force whatever troubling was afflicting him to leave and never return. The revelation of such desires startled him, yet a small part of his heart refused to suppress them entirely.
He left these unspoken thoughts lingering in the back of his mind as Ratio at last decided to speak.
"You. . . know much?"
Aventurine cocked his head. It was such an odd response he wasn't sure what to say in return. "What do you mean?"
Ratio fiddled with the covers, expression unreadable aside from a nervous twitch pulling his lips. "Never mind, forget my words." He cut himself short, voice failing as he quickly averted his gaze.
Aventurine frowned at the sight, thousands of possible explanations swimming in his mind. The manner Ratio was behaving was entirely warped, so much so he was forced to ponder the possibility he'd just unearthed an extremely personal turmoil pertaining to The Doctor.
"Hey," he stubbornly pressed on, even though he truthfully was making this up as he went. "Listen, you don't have to tell me everything. But, if it would help for you to talk about your issues. . ."
" Can you please trust me, Doctor? " was the unspoken question pressing his mind, lingering on his tongue, yet was swallowed down ruthlessly. Now was not the time for such ridiculous sentiments.
Aventurine had never felt so awkward in his life, waiting in defending silence as Ratio froze still as ice, enigmatic light flickering in his eyes dulled from fatigue. The sight only solidified his initial suspicions.
Who would have thought the pristine, divine-carven Dr. Ratio had his own demons? He never gave such an impression, not even when he slept.
As soon as the realization crossed his mind, Aventurine felt a flicker of shame. How could he have all people fallen into Ratio's perfected facade, so much so to actually believe he never faced any personal unrest? He always considered shattering facades to be a mark of his trade, a carefully crafted skill honed for many years, designed to see through the lies and manipulations of many in order to secure the best possible deal for The IPC.
And yet, this seemingly stone-hearted Doctor had him fooled for years. . .
When Aventurine found himself again, Ratio had torn his eyes from before him, forcing himself to face Aventurine again. This time, a silent resolve stunted his apparent nerves.
He inhaled deeply before speaking in a voice too small to come from him. "You are familiar with the Genius Society?"
Aventurine nodded. Anyone who lingered about the astral sphere of corporations knows the faction composed entirely of proclaimed geniuses. The IPC had past dealings with them as well, although he personally was never tasked with business correspondence.
A deprecating sigh left Ratio, drawing Aventurine's quizzical gaze to linger on him. Despite not receiving the full story, Aventurine had already all but pieced together the truth.
He'd long heard rumors Ratio desired to join The Genius Society, yet Ratio had never addressed such. He left those pondering his true intentions and forced others to dissect the meaning of his words, Aventurine included, of course. Yet even a fool beyond measure of help would be able to discern the source of the tension plaguing Ratio's shoulders, the cynical expression painting his face. At that moment, his mask completely crumbled, bearing his soul bare for Aventurine to behold in a raw display of vulnerability.
Aventurine felt a bit honored by the sentiment. Ratio, who never let it slip for even a moment, now entrusted his weakness to Aventurine. He trusted him. . .
A warm feeling fluttered in his chest at the thought.
"Well?"
Ratio's voice cut through his haze, and he found the man staring him down with a familiar scowl fixed upon his face.
And he's back now. Aventurine mused, sorrowfully waving goodbye to that moment of trust.
"Well? Ratio, what do you want me to say?" He flinched at his word choice; it wasn't the greatest selection he could have picked.
Ratio glowered. "Do you understand now, or do you require further clarification on the matter?"
It was clear Ratio was desperately backpedaling, attempting to salvage whatever part of that mask he could. He glared harshly at the smaller man, yet due to his fever-flushed face and clouded eyes, the effect was entirely lost, leaving an appearance that was almost comedic.
Aventurine shook his head, the man truly required a month of relaxation at the very least. When he finally pounded some sense into Ratio, he was going straight to the Intelligentsia Guild to negotiate a much-needed vacation for The Doctor.
"No, I believe I've pieced everything together." He paused, a thought occurring to him. Perhaps it would be better for Ratio if he forced him to speak about his troubles himself. Though admittedly, Aventurine wasn't the best at it either, speaking about one's issues often brought a sense of relief, as if a part of the burden were suddenly lifted from your shoulders. And relieving burdens would do Ratio some good.
Aventurine stared at his shoulders, musing to himself, if he keeps holding all that tension, he's going to gift himself an emergency trip to a chiropractor.
"But, there is one thing I don't quite understand yet."
Ratio sighed tiredly. "And, what might that be?" His voice was riddled with irritation. Aventurine wondered if pushing him was a bad idea. Yet, he was infamous for his terrifically bad ideas, so what was one more? He could either trigger Ratio's temper, or he could help assuage his burdens.
Aventurine laughed to himself; even in ordinary situations, he still ends up with a gamble.
"I was wondering, how has The Genius Society made you work yourself into the ground?" He hoped he sounded sincere in his questions.
Ratio was not an easy man to fool, he certainly would not take Aventurine feigning ignorance in order to force him to speak lightly. Under normal circumstances, this would never work, no matter how convincing Aventurine seemed, The Doctor was far too perceptive. Yet, now, his mind was clouded with fatigue and pain, leaving his cognitive discernment impaired. Aventurine leveraged this to his advantage, yet a small part of him revolted at the notion, urging him to cease his questionings and leave Ratio alone and mind his own business.
Maybe, being left alone was what Ratio wanted. But, Aventurine didn't believe it was what he needed.
Why is this so important to you? He forced the thought down.
Ratio tightly knit his brows, nearly prompting Aventurine to reach over and smooth the crease again. He refrained with great difficulty, instead forcing himself to focus on The Doctor's eyes.
"It. . ." He began unsteadily, searching for proper words. "It is ridiculous."
Aventurine quirked a brow in confusion.
"It is ridiculous I allowed such a mundane, foolish desire to devour my life." Ratio clarified, a flash of shame appearing on his face. He tugged on the blanket, frustration evident in his movements.
Without thinking, Aventurine reached towards him, cupping a hand over Ratio's to halt his actions. Veritas startled back at the sudden contact, staring at him with a bewildered expression.
Aventurine suddenly became aware of what he'd done, a bubble of embarrassment floating to the surface, yet he remained impassive, refusing to back away now. After all, retreating in shame was hardly his style.
Stubbornly, he remained still, watching Ratio with great intent. The Doctor schooled his face, mimicking Aventurine's nonchalance, though it was clear from the slight twitch in his brow he was anything but calm.
"What are you doing now, Aventurine?" He asked, a shaky quality afflicting his voice.
Aventurine smiled brightly. "Me? I'm just ensuring you don't put a hole in your comfy blanket." That was hardly the truth, but Aventurine was a known liar, he lied as easily as he breathed. One might even refer to him as a compulsive liar, because lying in many scenario's, was easier than the truth.
Ratio, despite his fever-clouded judgment, appeared wholly unconvinced, expression falling into skepticism. "Aventurine-"
"You still haven't answered my question, Doc." Aventurine cut him off, desperate to steer the conversation away from his prior actions. Truthfully, Aventurine himself wasn't sure what he'd just done. Was he trying to comfort Ratio?
Ratio glanced at their joined hands, yet didn't comment further, nor did he pull away. Instead, he turned over his shoulder, staring out the window. Avoiding Aventurine's eyes as he lay his shame bare on the table.
"It-it seems no matter what I do, Nous's gaze will never fall upon me. . ."
Aventurine's eyes softened, though he'd already discerned as much, hearing it from Ratio himself, speaking in such a small voice. It was different, vulnerable, and human.
Ratio continued without prodding, eyes glued to the window. "To the mundane, I am considered a genius; among geniuses, I am considered mundane. I wished desperately to prove myself. I worked endless hours on my new project, hoping to garner notice from the Aeon." He sighed, and though Aventurine wasn't able to see it, instincts told him of the pain riddling Ratio's eyes. He squeezed his hands in a gesture of reassurance. It was small, yet it was what Ratio needed. A bit of the tension seeped from his shoulder, a marginal amount, but it was better than nothing.
"I wasn't able to complete such a simple task. It is no wonder Nous has never glanced my way." His words were riddled with self-deprecation, shocking Aventurine. How could Ratio be doubting himself? Eight doctoral degrees, the First Class Honors Degree, eight documentaries, and dozens of memoirs? His inventions have been used by many worlds across galaxies. Now, he doubts himself for what?
This won't do at all . How can one be so blind to their accomplishments? Do I really have to beat reality into him?
Aventurine placed a free hand atop Ratio's forearm, drawing the other's attention towards him. Ratio stared at him hesitantly, expression guarded with skepticism. Evidently, it had taken a great deal of willpower for The Doctor to bear his woes before Aventurine, and the latter wished to honor such. However, he also refused to allow Ratio to maintain such a skewed view of himself.
Taking advantage of Ratio's attention training on him at last, he locked eyes with The Doctor, commanding his full awareness. "Ratio, how can you be so smart and so stupid at the same time?"
Ratio sputtered, and Aventurine cursed himself internally at the horrendous word selection. There was, unfortunately, no going back, so he resolutely continued his "encouragement," hoping to salvage the conversation.
"Ratio, I'm not sure when and how you planted this ridiculous notion in your head that you're inadequate in your field." But it couldn't be farther from the truth. . .
He faltered, juggling between rawly spilling his feelings, or polishing it over with something more palatable for Ratio. Yet, glancing at the Doctor, observing the minute widening of his eyes, Aventurine found his resolve.
Sugarcoating will do him no good, and he certainly wouldn't appreciate being treated like a child.
"But, it has got to be the most delusional perception you could have possibly conceived about yourself." He spoke quickly, watching as Ratio's expression morphed from surprise to sight indigence.
He glowered, crossing his arms in defiance. "Gambler, are you suggesting I am delusional in any way?"
"I am, and it's the truth." Aventurine retorted, voice firm, leaving no room for an argument.
Ratio opened and closed his mouth, the typically sharp-tongued Doctor struck by a loss for words. Aventurine didn't give him an opportunity to recompose his thoughts.
"It's the truth because anyone looking from the outside in can see your plethora of accomplishments, yet you've somehow deluded yourself into believing otherwise. So what if Nous doesn't glance your way? I'd say it's THEIR loss."
Ratio blinked, slowly processing Aventurine's words as the Gambler sat in silence, brilliant eyes remaining locked to Ratio's own.
Aventurine felt a shred of relief witnessing Ratio falling deep into contemplation. He hoped he'd managed to drag the Doctor from his unrealistic perception of himself. Honestly, he couldn't believe Ratio would even entertain such a notion, suggesting incompetence on his part. If Nous wasn't looking his way, he must have been blinder than a bat.
Within Ratio's eyes a faint flicker of light reignited, washing away the clouded dullness, which formerly plagued them.
He observed Ratio intently, unresolved feelings burning in his chest. He wanted to say more. An itch on his tongue urged him to speak. Seeing Ratio in such a vulnerable state, hearing his insecurities, and witnessing him as nothing more than human had unlocked a hidden part in his heart, which he'd unknowingly sealed away.
A voice broke the silence, and Aventurine suddenly became aware he was speaking. "You've accomplished far more in your early years than most do in their entire lives. You're more than the approval or attention of an Aeon. Honestly, often, it's not all it's cut out to be." His voice died by the end. Brief recollections of his childhood glimpsed through his current thoughts, memories of loss and death, yet somehow , he always survived. Often, he would have much rather died alongside everyone else. . .
He tore his mind from his spiral, grounding himself in Ratio's presence, smiling brightly, hoping he appeared at ease.Ratio stared for a moment longer before a soft huff finally left his lips.
"You make a relevant point, I suppose." Though he spoke with restraint, the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his true feelings. Aventurine laughed, a genuine smile overtaking the fake.
"You suppose? Doctor, you must admit you were wholly unreasonable." His words were light and playful, carrying not a hint of bite.
A small smile tugged at the corners of Ratio's lips, and he seemed almost embarrassed.
Aventurine softens his grin, patting Ratio on the shoulder. "Ah, no need to look that way. I understand humans are never wholly logical, even if we like to believe we are."
Ratio shook his head. "I should be. How could I have fallen prey to the illness of foolishness and irrationality?"
Aventurine raised his brows. "Illness? Ratio, it's human nature."
"But I-"
"You’re human." Aventurine stated firmly. For good measure he flicked Ratio on the forehead again, earning yet another indignant glance from the Doctor. Aventurine didn't care at all, Ratio could be handed a stack of papers the wrong way and appear indignant.
Ratio faltered, seemingly wishing to form a retort. Yet, after opening and reclosing his mouth several times, he resigned to defeat. "Very well, I admit, your argument is sound."
Aventurine smirked. "Oh, thank goodness. How many points have I got?"
Ratio massaged his temple, closing his eyes in exhaustion. "Aventurine, please do not push any longer today."
Aventurine suddenly recalled Ratio's sickly state, feeling uncharacteristically shameful. "Aha, sorry, Doctor."
He subconsciously fiddled with his watch, glancing at the clock which read the time. The evening had already descended, though the night was still young. Perhaps he could still inform The Intelligentsia Guild of Ratio's necessary vacation time.
He rose to his feet, feeling relieved to finally stretch his legs. He'd been sitting for nearly five hours, aside from the brief moment he'd left to fetch Ratio water. Ratio, for his part, watched him with rapt attention, an inquiring brow quirked, signaling an unspoken question.
"Well, I assume you want to rest now." He made to grab his phone as he spoke. "I'm going to speak with The Intelligentsia Guild about your much-needed vacation." He planned to leave before Ratio could offer protests to the idea. Gathering his things, he quickly strode towards the door, tossing a hasty "Goodnight, Doctor" over his shoulder. Despite his plan, he was still halted in his tracks.
"Stay."
He turned, gazing over at the bedridden Doctor, who now wore a sincere, yet bashful expression. Aventurine's heart nearly melted at the sight, however, he forced himself to maintain composure.
Shaking his head, he tried to speak as softly as he could. "Veritas, you need to rest, you're still far too sick." Pondering, he decided to placate Ratio further. "I'll return first thing in the morning, all right?"
If Ratio took notice of Aventurine's use of his name he didn't comment. Instead, he shifted forward as if to get out of bed. Aventurine nearly rushed back over to hold him down and hinder him from possibly collapsing on the floor.
"I am perfectly capable of resting in your presence; that is hardly an issue." Ratio's voice was slightly strained. Evidently, everything was taking its toll on his ailing body. Aventurine was overcome with guilt at having pushed him so far. Maybe it would have been better to wait until Ratio was well or at least healthier than he was currently.
Aventurine sighed, trying to ignore the surging emotion. "I'd only wake you when I leave."
"Stay the night." Ratio insisted, speaking with as much conviction as his shaky voice could muster.
After everything he'd heard and witnessed about Ratio today, Aventurine should have long been over feeling surprised. However, this was by far the most unexpected. Not even in his wildest dreams would he consider the possibility of Ratio begging him to stay with full sincerity. No, he'd sooner anticipate the Doctor finding hidden strength to pull himself from bed and throw Aventurine out the front door out of sheer irritation.
Little by little, Aventurine's will chipped away. The longer he stared at Ratio, the harder he found it to deny him. "There's no guest room." He offered weakly, knowing full well Ratio intended him to stay by his side.
Ratio glanced away, face flushing a concerning shade of red. Aventurine realized it wasn't simply from the fever. "There is ample space in my bed. . ." He trailed off, refusing to face Aventurine.
Aventurine waited in silence, half expecting Ratio to suddenly retract his statement and demand he leave. Yet, however embarrassed the Doctor was by the request, he remained firm in his wishes. Staying silent, awaiting Aventurine's response.
And, his willpower entirely crumbled. Now, it was his turn to resign himself to defeat; striding over in absolute silence, he placed his phone back onto the bedside, drawing Ratio's eyes back towards him.
Neither spoke. Instead, Ratio silently made room for him, shifting over and lifting the covers. Aventurine, for his part, didn't think how he currently was still dressed in his day clothes. He simply shrugged off his outer jacket and climbed into the bed, lying beside the sickly Doctor.
There was plenty of room for two, yet somehow, they found themselves in close proximity nonetheless. Aventurine watched as Ratio slowly relaxed, tension seeping from his shoulders like water rung from a rag. It was the most at ease he'd seen the Doctor all day.
Soundlessly, he reached out, brushing Ratio's hair in soothing motions, causing the Doctor to shift, yet his eyes remained closed.
This isn't so bad. . .
Aventurine felt an odd sense of security lying there beside Ratio. One he hadn't felt in a long time. He smiled softly, sleepily gazing at the other man as his breathing evened out. Without thinking, he leaned over, placing a gentle kiss upon Ratio's forehead.
"Goodnight, my stubborn genius."
His eyes slipped shut, and he fell into a dreamless slumber. He didn't hear Ratio's response, who slowly opened his eyes, tender fondness filling them as he spoke.
"Goodnight, Kakavasha."