goddamngrenades | LEGION INBOX

Yes. [ He's used to people leaving and figured one of them would end up slipping away eventually but-

They'd just gotten sorted out. ]

Then I'm coming over.

See you.

[ It's quiet in the house- Taylor turning a holographic emitter around in his hands. A little holoscene of the three of them, lazing on the beach. ]

[ Locus appears soon after. Literally just appears, fading into view, obviously having obscured himself for the walk over lest someone else feel like talking to him or stopping him.

His gaze flickers briefly to the image, then to York. His jaw tightens. ]

...She's happier back home. It's easier for her there. [ Because they aren't. Thinking this over logically is- it's not simple or easy or comfortable but it helps a little. Enough that he can swallow past the knot in his throat and set the scene aside, looking up to Locus with dark eyes. ]

How you holding up?

[ He just nods once, quietly. He doesn't say anything, can't think of anything to say that would mean anything.

Instead, he moves to sit beside York on the couch.

They'd been happy for a while, the three of them. That it would end should have been no surprise to any of them. ]

[ Taylor lists to lean against Locus, eyes slipping half closed. It aches to lose her; it'll ache to lose Locus but-

Arm looping around his waist, he presses his forehead against Locus' shoulder, breathing. ]

Remember dancing on the beach?

Yes.

[ He didn't dance.

They'd talked him into it. That night--

His jaw tightens further, and he turns. Winds an arm around York's shoulders and drags him in. His eyes don't close, staring at one of the little ledges York's built into the place for Emu. ]

Don't.

Don't...reminisce?

[ Just forget that she's gone, forget what good they'd been for each other, to each other? Tuck it all away like it's nothing? ]

We were happy. I was happy. We'd been through hell and-

[ He sighs, shaking his head. ]

[ That grip tightens. ]

Don't disappear.

[ It comes out a little rougher than he'd expected. A little raw around the edges. ]

[ That-

That makes so much more sense. He relaxes in Locus' arms, hand sliding up to cradle his jaw. To nudge him into meeting his eyes. ]

Hey. I'm not going anywhere, okay?

[ But Sombra had, he thinks as his gaze meets York's. He'd thought of going with her, more than thought of it actually.

But she'd left him behind. She'd gone where he couldn't follow. Neither of them could, but there's that selfish sliver of him that aches purely for himself because he's allowed to now.

That same selfish impulse that winds up all that rage and sorrow taut like a cord, the better to latch onto the York. They have each other left. He's not letting go of that. ]

Don't.

[ It's quieter this time, but every bit as earnest. ]

[ There'd been a plan, he knew. One he didn't even disagree with all that much shd part of him now is silently, viciously, selfishly glad that he'll get to keep one of them. It's not kind, he's well versed in loss and this hollow echo in his chest but hrs glad he gets to keep one. He never thought he could keep both- had been certain when one left, so too would the other but now...

Now he doesn't need to be afraid of that as much. And it twists in his hit that he's glad. ]

I won't.
[ like he can help it. Like he can tangle them together tight enough to hold himself here. ]

Don't you go running off on me either, okay?

[ He just nods. Once. Wordless. What he feels hasn't really found form in words he can readily express, but this seems to be the shared sentiment between them. A mutual decision.

Stay.

That's simple enough. He can abide by that, as much as he's able to. And if it comes down to going home to set things right or staying here with York...

They'll have that discussion another day, perhaps. Not right now. Not when the loss of Sombra is still so fresh. ]

...we need tequila.

[ Not enough to do anything foolhardy but- She wasn't one for moping. For lingering. What happened happened and she kept grasping for life and light and whatever she wanted without flinching or hesitating. Locus is too new to this to be quite at that place and York's been burned too often to have that kind of reckless abandon-

But he can honor it with a drink or two. Maybe dancing, later. Right now he twists in Locus' arms to nuzzle up against his throat, hands smoothing along his back. ]

[ New he might be, but what he's grasped hold of? They'll have to pry loose from his fingers.

Sombra had taught him a great deal, about trust. About the people you cared for. About learning to live with yourself, and for yourself. She'd decided to accept what this was between them only when she had nothing left to teach, when it was clear he didn't need her.

Now, gone. That's a hard blow to take. But York is here, and together they'll muddle through this somehow. ]

...it could help.

I've got a bottle somewhere. [ But he makes no immediate effort to untangle himself from Locus. No sign of moving for a short while, nuzzled in close and breathing and enjoying the weighty confirmation that this is real, that Locus is here and not leaving. A faint chirrup from one of the pouches hanging has him blink. Emu's fluffy head pops out to peer at them.

Right. Tequila.

He presses a kiss to Locus' cheek and slips away, rummaging around in the kitchen until he finds a bottle, two shot glasses, a salt shaker, and sliced lime. To the coffee table go the spoils. ]

[ He's a little surprised Emu isn't already trying to comfort York, but she's here. She's done her job. He'll have to remember to pick up some treats for her the next time she visits.

That's how he plans on coping. Plan for the next day, and the next. That's it, no further. Do the best he can a day at a time. If right now, the best thing he can do is drink with York and share memories of someone they've both loved and lost...then that's all the further he needs to think on it.

Any further, any wondering of what comes next for them? And he'll bury himself in dark thoughts, never to emerge. ]

[ He slides right back into Locus' lap after pouring two shots, offering him the glass. ]

No need to make these body shots this time.

[ It'd feel odd, without her. Coding would feel lonely without her poking in with her little asides, her clever gestures. He's quiet and settled and...aching. Locus holds that same ache close and it hurts, of course it hurts-

But it's a good hurt. It's what they have of her. Another scar to show they survived, and they will survive her- and miss her. ]

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