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Sebastian waved as a band of Expendables filed out of his shop. They had come in, cussed up a storm over a dumb question (which goes first: milk or cereal?), dumped a whole ton of research to buy most of his stock, and left with the beginnings of another stupid argument (pineapple on pizza: yay or nay?).
The fact that they even made it to his shop alive was astounding. He had a feeling that natural selection would have its way with them soon enough, but it was funny to watch regardless.
His ear twitched only a minute or so later when he heard something thump outside his vent. A smirk worked its way onto his face, especially after a familiar face popped into his room with a hesitant smile.
“Look who’s back," Sebastian greeted as Michael stood and dusted himself off. He waved.
“Hey. I…” He paused, eyes catching on the large quantity of research partially hidden behind Sebastian’s tail. “…see the Expendables had lots of shopping to do.”
“You don’t say.” Michael huffed a small laugh.
Sebastian was pleased to not see the kid’s ribs. It looked like he had put on some healthy weight. Good. “What brings you in today? Can’t say I have goods to offer.”
Michael squinted slightly at him. “I know you have more stock, y’know. Just… hidden.”
“You accuse me of lying?” Sebastian practically gasped in mock offense. Michael shook his head.
“Whatever. But anyway, the Expendables brought me. I… used my code breacher already," he quietly admitted before hoisting himself onto the desk, visibly slumping in relief once sat down. Sebastian stared at him for a second longer and nodded. So it was one of those visits.
“Hm. You want to get another?” Michael’s foggy eyes gazed at him, which he realized had deep bags under them (not that unusual for him, but still concerning). Sebastian squinted.
“I thought you said you were out.” The small joke was swiftly followed by a shift in demeanor as some kind of realization hit him. He shrugged, turning his head away. “Wait, no. I don’t have any research on me.”
Sebastian blinked. How exhausted must Michael be to forget about their “deal?” (The deal being ‘you get me any research you can snatch, and I’ll let you have some goods in reasonable amounts.’) Both of them had already utilized the deal over a dozen times since making it, though. How could he have forgotten?
“Michael? How much sleep have you been getting?” The man didn’t turn around, or even acknowledge the question. Sebastian felt a bit of frustration bubbling up. “Michael? Earth to Michael, hello?”
Still nothing. The frustration died down a little as his anxiety started to rear its annoying head. “Michael? Mike?!”
Nothing. Sebastian was thoroughly worried now. He.. did he fall asleep sitting up or something-?
Michael finally turned his head to him, looking less than half awake. “Sorry, did you say something? I’m uh… not entirely here right now.”
“Yeah, I did. Your name. Four- no, five times!” Sebastian frowned. “You totally blanked on me.”
(And were starting to kind of scare me, he thought. But that was dumb, and there was absolutely no chance he was gonna say that out loud, because he’d been unresponsive for a minute or less. That was it.)
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t hear anything resembling it, so I didn’t reply.” He chuckled tiredly. “The Anglers have been menaces lately so… yeah.”
Sebastian blinked. “I used the letter M at least five times. And your name. Five times.”
Michael looked up at him again, squinting slightly. Sebastian was about to ask what on earth he was thinking about when a look of subdued horror washed over him and averted his gaze. “Right. Sorry. Don’t… I don't know how I missed that. Sorry”
“You’re…” The shopkeeper stopped, running a hand down his face tiredly. “Look, I don’t care. It’s whatever. What’s wrong? Something is obviously up.”
Michael opened his mouth to speak, but Sebastian interrupted. “And don’t you dare say Anglers. Or I’ll eat you. And no, I am not serious about that threat!”
The smaller mutant closed his mouth again, visibly curling in on himself. He tried to smile, but it was a pathetic attempt. “Just… just tired. Like, really, really tired. Super… tired.”
“I figured,” Sebastian said simply. He squinted. “I meant more specifically. You’ve been tired since you came in here.”
Michael wrapped his arms around himself. He didn’t wince after moving his newly regenerated arm, the shopkeeper noticed, but didn’t dwell on it. He was busy watching a look of pure shame overwhelm the kid. “I just… didn’t…”
He looked away from him. “I didn’t hear my name. Didn’t recognize it.”
Sebastian was stunned for several long seconds. The silence dragged on as his brain refused to compute what in the world Michael was talking about.
“Didn’t recognize it?” He nodded meekly. “What do you mean you didn’t recognize it?”
“I’m gonna go-“ He got up to leave, but Sebastian moved his tail, positioning his fluke in front of the entryway. Michael froze in place, posture straightening as he stared long and hard at the blockage. He looked shocked and confused and so, so lost. Sebastian almost wanted to smack him awake, but he wasn’t going to do that.
He didn’t like touch, and he wasn’t about to assume that Michael did, either.
“Let me out.”
“You’re not surviving twenty minutes out there in your condition, Michael.” The smaller mutant flinched as Sebastian finished speaking. “What? I’m not even being rough right now, I think I’m being very reasonable.”
“No, that’s not-“ Michael aggressively shook his head before pinching his arm and flinching at it. He didn’t look much more awake. “That’s not… I’m fine, Sebastian.”
“Are you, Michael?” the shopkeeper snapped right back. Michael’s eyes widened and he stepped back once. Afraid. Sebastian’s brow furrowed and he pulled away a bit. Had… did he bare his teeth or something-?
“I am. I… I am,” Michael whimpered as he took another step back. Tears of what could only be pure exhaustion rolled down his face. “I promise. I am. I am.”
“You’re clearly not. Kid it’s okay-“ Sebastian tried to intervene, but when he put his hands up to placate him Michael only stumbled back until his back hit the opposite wall. He could hear a low sizzling sound: his acid. “Hey!”
Sebastian, any notion of personal space discarded, slid over, leaving only a foot of space between them. “Kid, you’re fine. Well, you’re not, but you will be…”
Now that he was closer, it was obvious that Michael was mumbling incoherently. He didn’t even react to how Sebastian had rushed forward. He was just sitting there, whispering and crying to himself. It was insanely pathetic. It was also hurting Sebastian far more than he wanted to admit.
“Hey? Kid?” he hesitantly addressed. Michael didn’t react at all.
“I am Michael. I am. I promise I am. I promise.” Sebastian pulled back, recoiling in shock. He studied the person in front of him closely.
Was he staring at a doppelgänger or something? Sebastian had yet to see any shapeshifters down here, and he hadn’t read about any. There wasn’t a single account of them: at least, not any that he knew of. There were no shapeshifters in the Blacksite.
This person was Michael in every sense. He looked like him. He sounded like him. He acted like him. He even smelled like him (that might sound weird, but it wasn’t if you considered his enhanced senses). It had to be him.
So what kind of nonsense was he spewing and why? “Michael?”
Of course, he continued to ramble nonsensically. Sebastian let out a long, stabilizing breath. Okay, not working. How does one console somebody who is panicking about… being them? (That sounded just as ridiculous in his head as it would out loud.)
It was looking like he would have to bite the bullet. If sound wasn't working to snap Michael out of it, he would have to use one of the other senses.
Sebastian reached out and grabbed his arm: not harshly, just enough to be grounding. The contact felt odd and out of place. Geez his skin was warm. Or maybe Sebastian was just cold. It had been a while since he touched someone.
Michael flinched violently at the contact, and tried to squirm out of it. Sebastian quickly spoke up. “Michael, it’s Sebastian, it’s okay. You’re safe.”
(As safe as one can really be in this cursed Blacksite.)
Slowly awareness returned to Michael, and he finally lifted his face. His eyes had a reddish hue from the tears still rolling down his cheeks, and he was so obviously exhausted. It amazed Sebastian how long it had taken him to notice. “S… Sebastian?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed. Michael practically melted into the touch he’d been fighting moments prior, curling around Sebastian’s comparatively giant hand in a weak hug. He hid his face on the shopkeeper’s hand. Sebastian snorted. “I’m not a tissue.”
“Mhm,” Michael halfheartedly agreed. Sebastian watched as all of the energy completely bled from him until, not even five minutes later, he had obviously fallen asleep. That certainly hadn’t taken long.
Sebastian hesitantly slid one of his other hands under Michael to pick him up, setting him down again in his personally designated “sleeping corner.” It was equipped with the shopkeeper’s sad excuse of a bed, which was actually more of a blanket-nest-thing.
After laying a blanket over him, Sebastian simply stared at Michael for a good minute or so.
He was honestly shaken. Sebastian had experienced his fair share of breakdowns, but… he had never witnessed one from an outside perspective before. It was unsettling, to say the least. He had zero clue how he had managed to calm Michael down. He didn’t even know what had caused the breakdown in the first place!
Literally all he’d asked was if Michael was really fine (because he obviously wasn’t). Maybe he had done it in a cynical tone, but that hadn’t caused the kid to panic before. He had even reciprocated Sebastian’s sarcasm sometimes!
How does that lead to saying over and over that he was Michael? Sebastian already knew that. Who in their right mind was gonna disagree with him? And how could he “not recognize” his name? What else would it be?
Sebastian froze. His gaze drifted over to his box of files. Quickly he slithered over, reached in, and grabbed the file on top of the classified pile. It was the same one he’d admitted to having less than a week before; Michael’s.
Or, more specifically, Z-98’s.
Flipping through it, Sebastian’s concern only grew. He was looking further in than he had before, but it only confirmed his earlier disgust. Although, it confirmed one other thing too, something that he already knew from his own experience: they didn’t use Michael’s real name. Not once. In fact, they even called him an it half the time.
From fifteen to now, through pain and drugs and genetic meddling, he’d been addressed strictly as Z-98. That was it.
But… surely that wasn't how he actually thought of himself. Right?
Sebastian allowed his mind to wander, sifting through as many of his conversations with Michael as he could remember. Now that he was actually thinking about it, Michael’s hesitation around his name really hadn’t been a one time thing.
How many times had Sebastian had to literally snap in front of his face to catch the kid’s attention? How many times had he taken several seconds longer than could be considered normal to reply? He hadn’t known Michael long, but Sebastian had just assumed that he was a daydreamer, or had a hard time focusing in general. But what if that wasn't it?
What if he really, genuinely thought of himself as Z-98 more than Michael?
It was a crazy notion. It was an even bolder assumption. Yet, with almost every fiber of his being, Sebastian was certain that it was true. And the implications were sort of heartbreaking.
Because Z-98 was an experiment, not a human being. Something to be used and then discarded once it served its purpose. Sebastian would know: Z-13 was granted that same level of dignity.
But Sebastian knew who he was. He was a Solace. And, at least mentally, he was still a person, no matter how hard those stupid scientists had tried to strip him of that. Granted, whether he was still the same Sebastian Solace as before was up in the air. Even he wasn’t sure where he landed on that. But he was still, without a doubt, Sebastian, and that was the only name he truly recognized as his own.
Had they succeeded in stripping Michael of that? Clearly he was stubbornly hanging onto his name (as he should, stick it to Urbanshade!). You don’t just introduce yourself with a name you refuse to recognize as your own.
But, if he started speaking in the third person, if he spoke every thought aloud, what name would come out? Would it be Michael?
Did Sebastian really want to know?
After letting out a long breath through his nose, he set the file back onto its stack. His gaze drifted to the young adult peacefully sleeping on his “bed,” totally unaware of the shopkeeper’s crisis. Sebastian wanted to make a big deal of this, because it really did feel like a big deal, but…
He let out a sigh. He didn’t have to think about it long before realizing that he was gonna let the issue go. Bringing it up would just make things worse: Michael would go on the defensive, and thus undo almost all of their progress.
Besides, there was nothing that Sebastian could say to change anything about Michael’s thought process. Not in one conversation. The best that he could do was use the kid’s name enough to burn it into his brain.
If Michael’s identity had really toppled that badly, then the best Sebastian could do was rebuild it brick by brick. Over instance after instance of using his actual name, instead of the dumb label made up for him by even dumber scientists.
Sebastian slithered over to him, settling in a coiled pile just to Michael’s side. He rested his arms on the top row of coils, letting his eyes droop slightly. He lifted the fluke of his tail to hide what little of Michael that wasn’t covered by the blanket. The shopkeeper stared down at the peaceful rise and fall of Michael’s every breath. It was much steadier than it had been mere minutes prior.
He let out a low groan, covering his face with one hand. He was getting so soft. The Blacksite was not the place for his brotherly instincts to return: those were supposed to stay buried until he was out of here.
In the Hadal Blacksite, hours could mean losing anything or everything dear to him. Mere minutes could pass, one determined Expendable discovers Painter, and the computer housing him is destroyed. Gone, just like that. Seconds pass, one Angler scream goes unnoticed, and suddenly Michael is dead and gone. Regeneration can’t fix messed up molecules.
It couldn’t hurt to try and show the doofus some basic dignity, though, he decided. I did as much for Painter. I can be better than the people who hurt us.
It wouldn’t be hard to beat them, after all.
o o o
When Z-98 woke up he was… well, he was still tired. But more rested than he had been for a while now. He was still too out of it to jump when he processed the end of a large tail laying on top of him. Instead, he peered out from under it, being careful not to shove it off. All tension fled from him when he realized who the tail belonged to, who was sleeping in a pile of coils beside him. He easily sank back into the blankets.
It was Sebastian. He trusted Sebastian.
He was safe.