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Gustave figures it out as they walk through the Monolith. Sciel and Lune discuss each of the moments, the flashes of lives they do not know. Monoco engages with Maelle, keeping her occupied lest she fall solely to the thoughts of revenge.
Gustave watches Verso.
He’s felt Gustave’s eyes on him for as long as they have been travelling together. It had not helped, the quiet words they had exchanged by the beach, cleaning up while the girls set up camp. The tender way Gustave’s hand lingered when Verso passed him soap, the twinkle in Gustave’s eyes that reminded him every day of when Gustave had first woken up from the various healing tints poured down his throat and Verso’s crude chroma knowledge just barely keeping him alive.
“Hey,” Gustave says softly when they pause to camp for the night. Maelle wants to push forward but Sciel hides more yawns behind her hand the longer they walk, and Lune squints in the darkness of twilight, obviously considering lighting up a small fire in her hand.
“Hey,” Verso replies.
Gustave sinks down with a quiet groan. Verso hides his smile with a tilt of his head. “Long day, old man?” he teases. Gustave snorts a laugh and lightly punches his arm.
“That’s them, isn’t it?” Gustave asks. He nods towards the direction of the last flash of memory they had seen. “Renoir and the Paintress.” Verso nods, silent. “Which makes her… your mom?”
“Family is complicated.” Verso pokes at the campfire with a stick.
“Didn’t say it wasn’t.” Gustave scoots closer. He’s done it enough times that Verso is sure his uniform must be stained by the sheer amount of grass he’s scooted over. “But. Maelle wants to kill your father. And we’re setting off to kill your mother. That… doesn’t bother you?”
“Complicated,” Verso repeats. He pokes at the fire again. When Gustave doesn’t let up, when he keeps staring, Verso sighs and relents. “No. It doesn’t bother me. I have had a long time to get used to the idea of killing my mother. She has not been my mother so much as an executioner in nearly seven decades.”
“Verso–”
“And why should her life be more important than the hundreds, thousands of people she’s killed? Why should you be denied answers and a satisfying end for my family? My family is broken. It had been broken for a long time. My older sister is dead. My little sister– My father kills anyone who tries to do anything about this, and my mother–”
His breaths come ragged, jagged, hurt. Belatedly he realizes that Gustave’s hand is resting on his back, moving in a comforting manner.
“You haven’t had much of a chance to talk about this, have you?” Gustave asks softly. “You’ve been alone.”
There are tears in his eyes. Furiously, Verso rubs at his face and hopes the tears aren’t obvious. “I’ve had Monoco.”
“That’s not the same. Gestrals aren’t human.” Gustave’s touch is firm. Grounding. Verso hates it. “Have you talked about this with any other Expeditions?”
Verso shakes his head. “No. No one has known except you and 58. And Renoir killed them all before they had much of a chance to do anything except tell me to fuck off.”
Gustave snorts softly. He had been the one to talk their group down from killing Verso when the truth had come out. The one to firmly put himself between the group and Verso.
He had caught the glimpse of the girl who looked so much like Maelle that it confused him. The desperate look Verso had shot her.
Gustave knows the lengths he would go to keep Maelle safe. He knows the lengths Verso would go to keep his sister safe. It’s just one more thing they have in common.
Just one more thing to bring them together.
Verso looks down when Gustave’s fingers tangle with his, bringing him closer. “I’m sorry for asking,” Gustave says, soft and light, careful but not tentative. Gustave has never treated him like he’s fragile.
Gustave is just like this. Just a good man. The pressure behind Verso’s eyes is unbearable, the lump in his throat nearly impossible to swallow. “S’fine.”
“If you change your mind about this, any of this, just say it, okay?” Gustave murmurs. Verso wants to laugh. He won’t change his mind. He’s had his mind made up for a long time.
~
Verso changes his mind. His sword is held to Renoir’s throat, eyes cold, expression empty, and he… stutters. Hesitates. Waits.
Renoir stares at him.
The silence drags on for what feels like forever.
“Verso. Kill him!” Maelle snaps. She moves as if to run forward but stops when Gustave’s arm catches her, holding her back.
“Verso?” It’s Sciel that time, unsure, staring.
“Verso, do it!” Lune.
“Mon vieux.” Monoco, as calm as ever.
“Verso, do what feels right,” Gustave says.
Verso lowers his sword.
Maelle screams, anger and frustration and hatred. Verso feels it as a pit in his stomach, anxious and afraid and feeling like the little boy he’s seen shades of, the one who never talks to him but looks at him like he knows him, with sympathy in his eyes.
Renoir’s cane touches the ground. He leans against it, winded and tired. “Verso,” Renoir says softly, “my son.”
“Go sit.” Verso doesn’t look at him. He gestures to the side, where a bench awaits. “You need to rest.”
They make camp. Maelle hits him, once, twice, until Sciel grabs her and pulls her away. Verso doesn’t fight back. He stands still. He takes it.
He just stands still in the center of their camp.
He can’t bring himself to look at Renoir. At Gustave, sitting next to Renoir. They have been talking for nearly an hour. Verso doesn’t want to know about what. Monoco watches them, watches him, watches it all with eyes that judge silently.
A hand touches his. Fingers lace between his own. “Hey,” Gustave says, like it’s just another day.
“Hey.” His voice is rough. He’s tired. He’s so tired.
“C’mere,” Gustave says. He is enveloped in a hug. His face pressed to Gustave’s shoulder, his hands clutching at the expedition jacket he wears, Verso cries.
Gustave pets his hair. He holds him through it and when Verso pulls away and struggles to breathe, Gustave sits with him and breathes. “You’re alright,” Gustave says. And when it draws a choked laugh from Verso, Gustave amends, “You’re not alright. But you will be.”
“Yeah,” Verso whispers. “I will be.”