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Veritas had been on the mission with Aventurine, and now he was here with him after tackling the edge of the gaping void that was the maw of nihility.
He has been assigned a Chaos Doctor to regularly receive check-ups from, and he also is given a good long leave from the IPC after the incident in Penacony, the sheer length of recklessness that the gambler had pulled off.
He had done it, he was back alive— and now safely resting beside Ratio himself, the dim light of the lamps twinkling in the large and pristine apartment of the Stratagem shading his warm dark cheeks in a peaceful, soft golden glow. The endearing sight of a sleeping angel was what he looked like. Ages younger, the man looked in this light.
This sight does not however almost ever last very long, for one having faced Nihility and returned from it's grasp would not be leaving so easily.
He might have returned safely from the dreamscape, but the mind still felt pulls, a dark, watery hold that clung to Aventurine's subconscious, even when he did not lay in a dreampool.
And every night the hold gets a little stronger, moisture beads up on his forehead, the poor crumpled forehead of his creases with pain, with reminders of old, the worst parts of what had passed in the span of which he had left behind him.
In these moments, Ratio finds he can do little, but call for him slowly, until he returns. The few times he had woken him up in between, he had been either had a particularly sharp fist landing on a shoulder, and the retained memories of these bad spells resting dormant with Aventurine even after he had long woken up, keeping him silent.
When he returns, he is safe. It might take him longer on some nights, and on some he might not recognize Ratio himself until hours late, but he stays and waits. He holds tight, letting Aventurine tread back the kiteline in the cave of his mind, back to him.
Sometimes he does not wish for his touch, keeping a far distance of about easily 4 feet, inching closer over the day again. Sometimes he crawls into the waiting embrace, dropping himself into those steady arms out of relief of not being caged by his mind anymore.
It's hard.
It's hard on both of them, but they know if one treads too far, there is the other to look back at.
The jump he will never make away from one another always leads back to life, to safety, after all.
It takes a long while, but soon Aventurine will get back on schedule of his deals, tasks and managing the work he so effortlessly seems to pull off every time, the full hand in front, with the other behind his back.
They have ended up in routine long before either of them could point it out, and their things have started ending up at each other's homes more often than not. Aventurine's apartment is a haunt for Ratio so regular, and Aventurine is used to finding him back there before him every night.
No, the terrors have not left them, but strangely enough— they have made it even more difficult to deny things that escaped right within walls, once deemed out of reach.
Aventurine still wakes up on some nights, shaken, and Veritas does not know on those nights until he feels the absence on the dipped down empty space of the bed, it's expanse lacking the man supposed to be right there next to him. When he hears the rush of a faucet, he is already there, questioning in a soft voice, and then they go to the kitchen, with one of them no longer able to sleep.
He lets Aventurine take out those excessively sweet jelly candies on those nights, and they share it while they talk about random things, with Ratio no longer prodding, for he knows he will say what he wants to, after a while.
Maybe after a while they'll watch the lights go back up outside, and the hum of Pier Point will return to a lively one before their eyes.
If the stars burn out, he'll find him in the dark. For as long as he needs to be here, he remains.
By the time they get the catcakes, Aventurine is doing much better.
He still insists on giving them to him for company, at least. And boy, these catcakes soon become the highlight of the gambler's days. He spoils them endlessly, and those little bastards have found out ways to trick him into getting their own way with snack time, again and again striving for exactly what they aim to receive. Poor Stratagem, finally defeated at the hand- correction: paws, of his new snack-children.
He fares better with them around, especially sometimes when Ratio is not around on some nights. In times when they are particularly far off away, he'll receive a message at system hours forward or backward, in regard to their timings having a mismatch due to locations.
Usually he'll find a picture of a catcake attached, nudging at Aventurine's foot, or of one sitting atop his head, late in the system hours that spelled it was far too late to be awake.
Sometimes they'd all be in frame, all four of the remarkable pairs of eyes, three large and round, bright and yellow, and one of strikingly beautiful colours all peeking back at him from the phone. Ratio isn't sure where, but somewhere they all look similar. Must be the hint of troublemaking that they all now shared, rubbing off on each other.
He can't wait for his meetings to end, and get back to travel back, looking forward to get back there, to his mischiefmongers all together.
Veritas finds joy in this, reminiscing on how far they've come, from lies, hidden facades and on, to trust and safety.
He saves the pictures every time, occasionally grinning stupid at the fuzzy warmth enveloping him every time he finds those four pairs of eyes staring up at him from the lockscreen of his device.
Nihility comes for all, but with every little slow step taken, maybe defending yourself from it isn't so hard after everything.