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It happened too fast.
Or Gustave was too slow. He'd only ever felt too slow since his last moments in Lumière. Sophie had dissolved into his hands, crying and afraid even as she tried to appear strong. There had been nothing he could do then. Slow or fast, Gustave had been powerless to do anything but freeze. It should have been a wake-up call. A promise to do better, to not anyone else die before his eyes.
But it only became the beginning of the end. Alan died right on the beach, his body in two pieces as Gustave only watched in shock. Too slow to react. Lucien, Margot, Tristan. All dying trying to protect Gustave as he just stared uselessly. Too slow, mind so far away it hadn't even recognized the danger. At least Catherine was already gone by the time he found her. Perhaps this one death, he could fault Nevrons over. Life in Lumière maybe should have desensitized him to death, but it felt entirely different on the Continent. More real. Much more painful.
Just as unavoidable as the Gommage.
Until Gustave miraculously avoided death, high on those rainy cliffs. He had been sure he would die then. He'd been speared through the chest, bleeding out and powerless. Saving Maelle had been his only goal, sure that he was already done for. Her cries of anguish had felt more painful than his wounds, as she desperately tried to escape her prison. When that stranger had appeared in a flurry of steel, blocking the final blow, it had felt like divine intervention. Like a second chance – one that Gustave was determined to use to the fullest.
Then the stranger had come to camp, all smiles and charm, and he wasn't a stranger anymore. He became Verso, the ageless man who saved Gustave's life and swore to help the expedition to kill the Paintress. Verso, who became quick friends with Sciel and the subject of Lune's curiosity and suspicion. Verso, who kept far away from the group at night, as if unsure of his welcome, and yet was always checking on everyone. Verso, who made every attempt to appear friendly and yet shied away from everyone’s touch except Monoco. Verso, who had looked so startled when Gustave had thanked him for saving Maelle and him.
Verso, who was laying so still now, blood spreading on the ground beneath him.
It happened too fast.
Gustave had been focused on the Chapelier flying around them, taking shots at the Nevron. He'd been frustrated, injured from an earlier attach, missing too often as the Nevron just laughed. He hadn't seen the Chevaliere behind him. Hadn't heard its blade swing through the air.
He heard the gasp of pain. Too late.Too slow, again. When he turned, he could only see Verso's back, and the Chevaliere's blade piercing through, wet with blood. Just like that horrible day on the beach, Gustave could do nothing but watch, like a spectator in a dream. He wanted to scream, to call for help, but no word came out. He watched as Verso moved one last time, removing his own sword from the Nevron's torso. He watched the Chevaliere fall to the ground, its sword still piercing through Verso's chest. He watched Verso crumble, falling to the ground without a sound.
Gustave watched. Forgot he had a body to act, to help. For the second time, Verso had saved his life. This time, he paid with his own.
In the distance, he could hear the fight winding down as Lune finally managed to strike the Chapelier down. Monoco was loudly bragging about his own kill, either to Sciel or to Maelle. Gustave wondered distantly how the Gestral would react to his best friend of decades, dead on the ground. Another body in a sea of dead expeditioners. He didn't turn. His stare remained on Verso's unmoving form. Blood continued to seep further, slower now. His face was to the sky, his grey eyes unfocused. He looked almost peaceful - no trace of surprise or anger, just a small out-of-place smile on his lips.
"Burying everyone you know while you live on can wear you down a bit."
Perhaps Verso viewed death as a mercy, a way out of this madness. Gustave wondered if he had also felt useless and slow, all those times. If he had made a list of people who died because of him. He hoped not.
There were hesitant footsteps behind. A gasp that could turn into a sob. Gustave still didn't move, standing just a few paces away from Verso, his boots slowly getting drenched in blood.
"Is he - ?" Maelle started. Unlike Gustave, she was able to move. To come closer to the body. To check, as if there could be any doubt. She knelt on the ground, lifting a hesitant hand to Verso's face - to close his eyes ? Check his pulse ?
"Gustave ?" Sciel put a grounding hand on his arm, squeezing it gently. "Are you alright ? What happened ?"
The question finally wrenched him back to himself, like a plunge into cold water. "I didn't see it coming." He managed in a whisper, suddenly painfully aware of the tears falling down his face. He couldn't look at Sciel, couldn't bear to look away from Verso's still form. It'd feel too much like a betrayal.
Sciel didn't answer. Every word would feel like meaningless platitude. Lune didn't speak either as she slowly walked over, only put a hand to Gustave's injured arm and directed her chroma to heal. The sensation of flesh knitting itself together was always unpleasant, but Gustave welcomed the distraction.
"Why are you all looking like your dog died ?"
Gustave startled at Monoco's gruff voice. For the first time, he managed to look away from Verso, turning to the approaching Gestral. He wanted to answer, but what could he say. 'Your best friend of seven decades is dead, and it's my fault' ? Instead, he just turned sideways, allowing Monoco to see. There was no softening the blow.
Gustave wasn't sure what the reaction would be from the Gestral. The wooden people had strange views on death, especially as they could come back to life in ways no human could. Perhaps he expected rage and recrimination. Or even insults directed at everyone for their lack of skills in battle. Maybe even tears, if Gestrals could even produce them.
But Monoco only groaned. Like the sight of his closest friend dead on the ground was an annoyance, instead of a tragedy.
"Really, Verso ? A Chevaliere ?" Monoco muttered, as if Verso could hear his berating. For a delirious moment, Gustave wondered if the Gestral even understood his friend was dead and not coming back. "Oh well, not the worse state I found you in."
Before anyone could react to those words with more than a startle, Monoco pulled the Chevaliere's sword out of Verso's chest and threw it away as Maelle jumped back. Gustave couldn't help but flinch at the wet sound and the new gush of blood.
"Come on, lazy bones. Wake up !" Monoco growled. He hit Verso with his staff, hard enough to hurt.
"Monoco ? I don't think that will work." Sciel's voice was full of sympathy, only wincing slightly when the staff hit the still body again.
Gustave moved, his hand coming to grip at the staff to prevent another hit. "Monoco, I'm sorry. I -" He searched for words, a way to make the stubborn Gestral stop and think.
Whatever words he'd been able to think up, he was interrupted by a groan. In a daze, Gustave looked down at Verso, watched as he pulled himself into a sitting position, every movement looking painful. When Verso looked up, Gustave couldn't help but wonder what he saw in his face. Bewilderment ? Relief ? Doubt ? Hope ? Whatever he saw made him wince, regret etched in his features.
"Right. I don't suppose we can just forget about it ?"
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That night, making the camp was a morose affair. It should have been joyful, a celebration of Verso being alive and well instead of one of the thousands of corpse on the Continent. Instead, Lune was furious – "How could you hide something so big from us ?! Is all of Expedition Zero also immortal ?!" –, Sciel was relieved but pensive, and Maelle had stormed off to Esquie without a word. Gustave wanted to go to her, to comfort his little sister who had seen too much death already, but he couldn't make sense of his own feelings on the matter.
He sat on a rock and watched as Verso and Monoco argued on the outskirts of the camp, too far to hear but Monoco's scolding evident in gestures alone. Gustave wondered if the scolding was about hiding his immortality from the group, or not hiding it better.
Gustave couldn't bring himself to blame him for his secrets, not when Verso couldn't quite keep his flinch hidden as Lune angrily stomped away, not when the alternative would be Verso dead on the ground, his music never to be heard again, his rare laughs just a memory. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Verso was so much older than everyone else, that he survived on the Continent for longer than Gustave had been alive. Verso didn't like talking about it all, dodging questions about his past, both before and after the Fracture. The mystery was fascinating to Gustave, but he didn't dare push as strongly as Lune and Sciel did. Verso was a closed book, locked with several keys, and he seemed to add more every time someone asked a question he didn't wish to answer.
As frustrating as it could be, Gustave couldn't blame the man. Verso reminded him of those stray cats in Lumière, that only allowed Gustave to feed them after months of building trust but retreated quickly into shadows the moment he did something unexpected. Once bitten, twice shy, went the saying. Gustave wondered how many times Verso had been metaphorically bitten.
"Hey."
Gustave startled out of his thoughts at Verso's voice. Looking up, he saw the man a few paces away, smiling a bit hesitantly as if unsure of his welcome. Something in Gustave broke at the sight. Verso always looked so confident, but how much of it was a facade ? How much did he actually trust their expedition not to turn on him ?
"Are you alright ?" It wasn't what Gustave had meant to say, but he couldn't help the words. Verso hadn't taken the time to wash up after, and blood had dried on his clothes and hair. Gustave winced in sympathy.
Verso looked startled at the question, crossing his arms as he looked at Gustave. "My injuries heal quickly." He finally answered, wariness clear in his tone.
"That not what I meant."
Verso frowned, clearly not understanding, but he finally moved from his spot to sit on the rock next to Gustave. Still far enough not to accidentally touch, but close enough that Gustave could extend a hand to his shoulder, if he wasn't sure Verso would jump away if he tried. He still wanted to, just to be sure that the other man was real, moving and breathing and not an illusion. He’d been dead, still on the ground just hours ago. Another name on the long list of people Gustave had failed.
"Does it hurt ? Every time you -"Die ? Resurrect ?
Again, Verso looked at him cautiously, as if questioning Gustave's intentions with the question. "You get used to it." He sidestepped the question. Gustave wondered how many times Verso had died, and at which point he got used to the pain.
"I'm sorry."
"For what ? It's not your fault." Verso shrugged noncommittally.
Gustave couldn't bring himself to look at Verso as he answered. "This time it was. You - I was distracted and -"'you died'. He couldn't say it. Even as Verso kept breathing next to him, Gustave couldn't forget those awful minutes when he didn't, when his heart was cleaved in two by a sword. Because Gustave was only an engineer who fancied himself a soldier and it got people killed.
"Don't worry about it. I've had much more painful deaths. This one was quick and relatively painless." Verso smiled, as if in reassurance. It just made Gustave feel sick.
He tried not to let his anguish show, but he had never been a good actor. "I'm sorry." He could only repeat. Sorry that Verso died because Gustave had been too slow. Sorry that Verso had died so many times before, enough that he could apparently rank them from least to most painful. Sorry that Verso could only joke about it, unable to escape the pain.
"I owe you an apology too." Verso said after a moment, and Gustave frowned in disbelief. "I should have told you, all of you. Lune must be angry about all the resources she wasted on me." Verso added in a joking tone that made Gustave want to either hug him or punch him in the face. His heart wrenched painfully at the self deprecating words either way.
"It's not wasted if it can prevent pain." Gustave reeled back. Lune was angry at the secrets at the moment, but he knew she would agree afterward. She wouldn't let Verso suffer unnecessarily, even knowing he couldn't die. Gustave couldn't imagine a world where any of them just let Verso die without trying to prevent it, without protecting him as much as the older man protected them. He wished he could say as much to Verso, but the other man would probably reject both the words and the protection with another self depreciating joke. Instead, he decided to address the first part of Verso statement. "Why didn't you ? Tell us ?"
Again, Verso hesitated. His shoulders tensed visibly, his eyes becoming unfocused. Maelle looked similarly, after her nightmares full of fire and screams she couldn't quite remember. Gustave had spent months finding the best ways to help her. Hot chocolate and hugs worked wonderfully with his little sister, but he had none of the former and the chances of Verso accepting the later were slim.
"Some people become wary of me, after they learn about it." Verso finally answered, words almost bland in their carefulness, only making the pain clearer.
"Did previous expeditions react badly ?" Gustave knew he was pushing too much, that Verso would clam up again at that too precise question, but he wanted the answer. He knew all of the expeditions’ rosters. He would only need a number to know the names of the ones responsible. People long dead, who had sacrificed everything for Lumière. Including, apparently, their own humanity and compassion.
Strangely, Verso didn't leave. Instead, he shrugged carelessly again, as if the movement would make the truth lose some of its gravity. "It was well before your time. Search and Rescue."
The numberless expeditions, from before people even knew of the Gommage and of the danger the Paintress and her Nevrons posed. "You must have been so young then." Gustave tried to imagine a younger Verso, actually the age he looked like, fresh from the Fracture and confused at his own immortality as the people he called friends hurt him.
"They were right to be wary. They thought I was a spy for the Paintress." Verso looked haunted even as he defended the actions of those long-dead expeditioners. "I killed them in retaliation, so maybe they were right."
"You were only defending yourself." Gustave countered. He couldn't imagine Verso attacking expeditioners out of nowhere. Clearly, he hadn't had a choice.
Verso just sighed, looking Gustave with some fondness even among the painful memories. "You're always quick to defend me. You did the same after the cliffs. Why ?" He looked genuinely confused.
"I'm not blind to the fact you hide many secrets, Verso." Gustave kept his tone gentle, unwilling to make Verso shy away. The other man still winced at the words, avoiding Gustave's eyes. "But I believe in actions. You've done your best to help us. You saved Maelle on the beach, you saved me. Twice now. You've been our guide on the Continent, you've protected us all." Gustave smiled fondly, trying to catch the other man's gaze. "I just wish you'd let us return the favour. Help you as much as you help us."
Verso remained silent for a moment, still looking at the ground. He looked conflicted, something like shame twisting his features. "You're too nice and trusting, you know." He finally stated, the words more admonition than compliment, but the tone fond. Gustave decided not to take offense.
"Maybe you could use a bit of kindness in your life." Gustave laid a hand on the other man's arm, trying to give comfort. He felt Verso flinch at the contact, but before Gustave could remove his hand and apologize for the unwanted touch, Verso leaned into it. Again, Gustave was reminded of those wary stray cats in Lumière, starved for attention but all too aware of the dangers of letting someone near them.
After a moment, Verso relaxed under his hand. Every second Gustave had him so close the memories of the afternoon became more unreal. Verso was breathing; his eyes were clear as he looked at the night sky. Gustave wished he could feel the warmth of his skin, just to be sure, but the layers of still bloody clothes prevented it. Still, anything was better than the awful image of Verso's unmoving body, pale eyes unblinking.
"Are you alright ?"
Gustave startled at the question, relaxing his too tight grip on Verso's shoulder as he became aware of it. "Sorry, I -" He removed his hand, awkwardly raking through his hair. When he looked up again, he saw Verso looking at him with concern. "I guess it's been a harrowing day. For everyone."
Gustave wanted to hit himself a second later. Here he was, complaining, when Verso had litterally died just a few hours before.
"Watching people die is always difficult." Verso answered with no judgement. He just sounded like someone with too much experience on the subject. "But at least now you know not to worry about me."
"I think I'll worry about you more, actually. One of us should." If Verso was so unconcerned about his own deaths, no matter how flitting they were, Gustave would need to step up. "You seem to make a habit of stepping between people and blades." He wondered if Verso had died, that night on the cliffs. He hadn't joined the rest of the group for hours.
"Isn't it better this way ? You can't get back up after being stabbed." Verso felt the need to remind him. "Besides, we need to use all the advantages we can to reach the Monolith."
"We already see enough death, Verso. It doesn't matter that yours are temporary, you still die. You still feel pain." Gustave would see those glassy eyes in his nightmares, he didn't want other materials. He shuddered at the thought.
Verso frowned, confusion mixed with concern. After a moment, he sighed. "I can't promise that I won't use my abilities to protect you all. Think about Maelle. Would you really want her to die when I can save her with no consequences ?"
"That's not fair." Gustave protested. Of course Verso would find some argument he couldn't object to. "I care about you both. I don't want to see either of you die."
"I'm not planning on throwing myself at every blade, Gustave." Verso said, his light and teasing tone at odd with the subject. "I haven't needed to die in the weeks since I joined you. Just... I'm being practical here. If need be, I won't hesitate, and you shouldn't feel guilty about it."
Gustave wanted to argue more, but it felt pointless and naive. He couldn't make Verso promise not to die, not shield members of the expedition. Especially Maelle. The worst part was, Verso was right. Pragmastism was the only way to survive on the Continent. Gustave just wished that it didn't include Verso's dying on them again.
He sighed in defeat. "Only if it's absolutely necessary. Please." The last word felt more prayer than whisper.
"Only if necessary." Verso repeated, like a promise.
Perhaps Gustave should feel relief at the promise, but only dread came to mind. He couldn't help but wonder how many times he'd see Verso dead on the ground before they reached the Monolith.
"I should go wash up." Verso awkwardly announced after a while. Gustave looked at him again as the older man got up to leave. He'd gotten used to the smell of blood, but the sight of it drenching Verso's clothes and hair still brought unpleasant and all-too-fresh memories. Verso never seemed too bothered about it before, and Gustave wondered if he was making the effort for him.
"Do you need company ?" Gustave asked before his brain could make him reconsider. He didn't want to let Verso out of his sight. Not yet. Dead eyes still pictured too clearly.
Verso turned back to him, staring at Gustave in bemusement. Just for a few beats. Then his expression smoothed into a teasing smile. "Sure. Do you want to braid my hair too ?" He jested as he turned back to leave for the river.
"Can I ?" Gustave felt himself flush. He'd meant to answer as jockingly as Verso had, but his words had almost come out pleading. He'd been dreaming of running his hands through thick dark locks for weeks. It was long enough for small braids, maybe. Gustave couldn't help but contemplate what he could weave.
Verso stumbled over air, a spluttering sound coming out in surprise. He didn't turn back, quickening his steps instead as he pretended not to have heard. Perhaps for the best.
Still, the walk to the river felt awkward. Gustave didn't dare open his mouth after his last two blunders, and Verso just kept looking back at him with a strange expression. As soon as they came near water, Verso removed his bloodied outer layers and put them aside, before kneeling on the ground. Before Gustave could make another brainless comment, Verso just dunked his head in the water. Gustave didn't even attempt to hide his chuckle at the sight, shaking his head in fondness as he moved to the discarded coat. Pulling soap out of a picto, he began washing the blood off, only allowing himself a few glances at Verso doing the same with his face and hair. After a few minutes, Verso shook the water off, grinning as he splattered Gustave in the process.
"Was that really necessary ?" Gustave grumbled without heat.
"You have blood on you too." Verso playfully flicked water at him again, then used his purple scarf as an improvised towel to get the excess water out of his hair. "I'm just trying to help."
In response, Gustave only threw the clean coat in his face. Verso laughed as the sodden garnment hit him, and Gustave couldn't help but join in. It felt good to hear Verso laugh, especially after the events of the afternoon.
"Come on. You promised me a braid." Verso smiled at him as Gustave sputtered again. It could have felt teasing, but there was something in Verso's eyes that disputed the joking tone. Warmth, but also uncertain. Cautious. Gustave knew he could just answer in kind, make a quick jest, and everything would stay the same, except Verso would retreat back behind his walls. Or he could take the plunge, answer Verso's tentative overture in kind.
"Do you have a brush ?" He finally asked. He made no attempt to keep the hope and warmth from his own tone, and Verso's smile became just a little more vulnerable and true.
Wordlessly, Verso put a brush out of his bag and offered it to Gustave. He turned around, sitting crosslegged on the ground, both giving better access to his hair and hiding his face. At least he also couldn't see Gustave's flushed face as he kneeled down. Gustave wondered if he should really feel so flustered at the thought of just touching Verso's hair. But the older man was so guarded; this simple act had weight that hundreds of instances of braiding Maelle's hair couldn't compare to.
Taking the brush in his metal hand, he began combing through the thick locks, marvelling at the white strands mixing with the black, diluting the colour. As his flesh hair gently helped unraveling knots, he wondered how Verso kept his hair so soft.
"That feels nice." Verso commented softly after a moment, perhaps finding the silence too awkward. "I can see why Maelle seeks you out to do her hair."
"It's a little tradition of ours." Gustave answered. "After nightmares, she'd always come to us. Emma would make her hot chocolate, and I'd brush and braid her hair until she calmed down."
"You're a good brother." The words were fond and complimentary, but there was something darker in the intonation. Shame ? Envy ? From scattered tidbits, Gustave had gathered that Verso also had a sister. He wondered if something had happened to her, if Verso wished he could take care of her the same way Gustave took care of Maelle. He wished he could ask, but the moment felt too fragile.
Instead, he continued his work, well past the point Verso's hair needed unknotting. It felt nice, to card through the dark waves, Verso relaxed under his touch. When he couldn't think of an excuse to continue stalling, he finally picked strands to begin braiding. Verso's hair was too short for the long braid he usually made for Maelle, but he could weave smaller ones. As Gustave gathered strands near Verso's temple, he felt the man lean into the touch and was reminded of his earlier comparison with cats.
Verso let the silence last this time, apparently enjoying the attention, and Gustave concentrated on his task. He weaved two small braids on either side of his head, gently pulling them together until he could form a loose bun. As he arranged strands of hair, he looked at Verso's face, finding his eyes closed as he smiled in contentment. Gustave couldn't help his own smile. He hoped the other man would allow this night to repeat – preferably without the blood and trauma.
"There, all done." Gustave finally announced, after a long time of delaying the end that still felt all too short.
Verso opened his eyes, lifting a hand to touch his scalp, feeling for the braids weaved into his hair and gently swaying in the wind. "You're a master of your craft, Gustave." He said in a tone that was probably meant to be light and teasing, but came out a bit breathless. He looked a little flush, which Gustave was somewhat grateful for. At least, he wasn't the only one affected. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. And I'd be glad to braid your hair as often as you'd like." Gustave couldn't help but add daringly. It felt right. Verso hadn't rejected any of his advances, had made his own overtures.
"It'd be nice." Verso confessed in a whisper that might have not been meant to be heard. "I can't really return the favour." He added, louder, as he vaguely gestured at Gustave's shorter curls.
"It's not an exchange, Verso." Gustave admonished him gently. Had he read the situation wrong ? Perhaps Verso was just humouring him, to make up for his earlier... injuries.
"Maybe I want to reciprocate." Verso retorted. He looked at Gustave with so much longing, but there was still something holding him back. They weren't talking about hair anymore, obviously.
"In your own time. I can wait." Gustave said. He hoped he wasn't lying. The clock was ever tickling down, seemingly faster since coming to the Continent. "And once we defeat the Paintress, we'll have all the time in the world."
Somehow, the last sentence brought sadness to Verso's eyes. He lowered his gaze, avoiding Gustave's. "I won't take that long, I promise." When he looked back up, Verso was smiling again. "I wish I'd met you sooner. Trust isn't easy, out on the Continent. But you... you make me want to trust you. I haven't felt that way in a long time." He confessed.
Verso uttered the word 'trust' like something precious and sacred. It made something ache within Gustave. Part of him was happy that Verso seemed to add him to the very short list of people he trusted – a list that seemingly only counted two people previously. Another throbbed - Verso shouldn't have been made so wary of everyone by his painful experiences.
"I hope I'll prove worthy of your trust, then." Gustave replied.
"You already are."