closed;

[heliakal]

Who: Clark, Ivan, & Gregor
When: Aftermath of the event
Where: Nomo Deck #009
What: Clark goes to deliver some unwelcome news.
Warnings: character death mention...?

It's not long after he finally gets back to the Moira that Clark goes looking for Ivan and Gregor. He's still in his uniform, streaked with dirt and blood that isn't his own. He should change, maybe, but it seems too dishonest to pretend to be anything other than what he is in the wake of everything that's happened.

A whole planet is gone. Miles is dead. Superman wasn't enough to stop any of that, and he should have been.

He goes to the room Miles shares with his family and knocks on the door. It's likely that they know already, with Miles nowhere to be found on the ship, but Miles is the kind of person who seems like he could think his way out of anything. If he hadn't seen it for himself, maybe he would hold out hope too, but as things stand...

"Ivan? Greg? It's Clark, we need to talk."

Comments

NO ITS A BEAUTIFUL NOVEL

[lets_see_what_happens]

"Miles," Gregor says, his voice very soft, and he has to pause to take a shuddering breath as he's swamped by an image from when he was very young of a child even younger than himself in traction, with pins in his limbs and blazing grey eyes and his lips peeling silently back from his teeth as they inflicted whatever fresh medical torture the doctors had concocted this week to try to get him on his feet without shattering the framework of his small body into jagged shards, that terrifying control in someone so young. He'd taken it to heart even then and he breathes it out now, his eyes refocusing on Clark with flensing sharpness.

"Miles has been a hero since before he could walk or speak. And I have never doubted for a single instant that he would give his life for something he believed in. It is worth a great deal." Still, Gregor nods, acceptance and dismissal both at once. "Please feel free to contact me if there's any other way we can render assistance in the cleanup. ...thank you."

[whatdidisay]

Ivan doesn't say anything, crossing his remaining arm over his chest and sinking into himself -- gaze intent on Clark's back as he leaves. What else can he say? That there's no one in the universe that he's more proud of than his cousin? His dead cousin? Gregor's got that covered anyway, and in the sort of eloquence that comes with being trained in public speaking since the day someone realized he's the Emperor.

He's silent for a long moment, until he's sure Clark's gone, and then, in a burst that's more sob than anger, "Shit."

[lets_see_what_happens]

Gregor moves, looking numb, to sit on the edge of Ivan's bed and look down at him. His face is composed, but there's a horrible bleak emptiness in his eyes for a second before he looks away and takes a shaky breath, swallowing hard.

"Yeah," he says, his voice a little raw as he leans his elbows on his knees and looks down at his hands. "Shit."

[whatdidisay]

The emptiness scares Ivan more than anything else, because Gregor is Gregor -- he's unshakable as the Emperor, but here he's just. Gregor Vorbarra, just like he's Ivan Vorpatril. And he lost a foster brother, and Ivan feels like he's lost a brother, and they're both so completely fucked Ivan can't begin to process it.

"What are we-- Gregor--" What are they supposed to do? He wants to say it but can't, tries not to look as helpless as he feels when he looks back at Gregor.

[lets_see_what_happens]

Gregor watches the desperate, miserable uncertainty on Ivan's face, turned helplessly up to his, and he feels his spine straighten slowly, control reasserting itself over his face.

"What are we going to do?" he asks gently, but he doesn't reach out and touch Ivan, just sits with his hands in his lap, his dark eyes a steady weight on Ivan's face. "We are going to mourn one of the best men I've ever had the privilege to know. We're going to burn an offering. And we're going to find a way out of this place and back home as soon as we can. We'll do those things because that's all we can do, Ivan. We are not gone. We are here, and alive, and still in no little danger, and I think the last thing Miles would want is for us to slow to a stop without his momentum to keep us going, no matter how hard that will be. All right?"

[whatdidisay]

Good old Gregor. Always ready to be in charge when he needs to be, but even then Ivan feels -- selfish? For doing this for him. He knows that's what it is, at least in some way. So Ivan decides to hell with that, and pushes himself up into a sitting position so he can wrap one arm around Gregor in the best version of a hug he possibly can at the moment. God knows he needs it, and maybe Gregor needs it, too. At least the offer of it -- that's the best thing, okay, that's the only thing he can do at the moment. Or ever, since it's his cousins that do all the thinking in the family. But it's something.

"Alright," he says into Gregor's shoulder, eyes stinging even as he presses them shut. "Alright."