Within You

The flight home from Amestris was more than twice as long to get home as it had been to get to Briggs to reclaim Toss. They'd gotten their like their asses were on fire and had quietly left Gavin's Generals on the red alert awaiting any possible attack from Drachma, or worse, RIOTE themselves. Carraig's air defenses were the best in the world, but there was always someone bigger than you out there, and RIOTE had already felled the giant that was Amestris. It wouldn't take a lot for them the likes of them to really hurt the tiny island country, even without being super obvious, especially since there were already problems on their horizon.

The airship and its two guard planes had flown through Amestrian airspace quietly, circling around and taking the longest route home to make sure nobody was following them and to make sure no strikes would come to their beloved land en route. Messages relayed back to the young King had ensured him that they were safe for the time being, but all would stay on alert, ready to fight and defend Carraig. Toss had slept the whole flight home, the other homonculus, Sloth, refusing to leave his side at all. Artemis had been very, very quiet, obviously disturbed and still feeling very hurt; seeing her not want to look him in the eyes broke his heart a bit, even though right now things were too critical to get into it with her. He'd apologize later and make it up to her. Gavin had been very, very quiet, lost in thought and trying to make sense of everything as best he could. His best pilot, the one he'd taken on and counted on to take Carraig to something better than this world... It made too much sense now, but at the same time, made none at all.

How long had be been one of these things? Was the girl at his side the same and possessed the same skills? Was this why Toss was never hurt in all their tests, and had been able to take everything they'd thrown at him time and time again? Being an immortal creature fuled by the blood and souls of others... It just seemed so wrong. It defied nature, and God. He looked to Toss' sleeping form and sighed, waiting for the ship to finally land in a place where things were still trying to make sense.

~Later~

There seemed to be a collective sigh of relief as the ship tuched ground and the black car took everyone back to the palace. The word was sent to Fiachra to lower the alert but to stay vigilent, bur right now a nightcap and sleep sounded amazing. It took some coaxing to get Arty to leave Gavin's side and go to bed, and even more to ask Sloth to simply wait for them in the next room. But Gavin knew sleep would have to wait. He needed to talk to Toss, and it couldn't wait for morning. Cinders was all too happy to greet the King and Toss, following them into Gavin's office as the King shut the door behind them.

Well, what now? Where did he even start? Gavin sighed, walking to the cabinet by the wall and pulling out a crystal decanter and poured two generous glasses of scotch; God only knew he needed one, and Toss probably did, too. It wasn't going to hurt him, after all. The Wolfhound paced around anxiously, unsure of how to react to the tension wafting off his master or his friend, the dog whining as he looked up at the pilot who smelled of blood and antiseptic. Gavin walked over to Toss, holding the glass out for him as he took a seat in one of the plush chairs that faced him rather than sitting behind his desk. Monster, human, it was Toss. He knew Toss and cared about his well-being and worried for him. But now there was so much more to worry about. Gavin patted his leg as he took a long, slow sip, Cinders walking over to rest his large head on Gavin's thigh. Slowly he put the drink down and took out his speech aid, typing carefully.

"So... What happened in Drachma, Toss?"

The office. It was a place Toss didn't normally feel so threatened in. Maybe Vanity was to blame, but his dreams were even haunted precipices of Drachma. He knew the question was coming and so held on tenaciously until then. It was hard. No, not to wait, but just to breathe. While on the way back to Carraig, the poison took a strong hold on him, threatening to spill him back into the darkness from whilst he came. But Toss refused to die...again. He had already lost a life to the snowy lands, he needed to keep what he had. Hanna took the rest, making Toss not only feel weaker, but know that he couldn't die too many more times before the seams of this body tore itself apart and banished him into the confines of hell...where he belonged. Red eyes settled like murky water onto his king. Swaying slightly, he grasped the scotch like a life line, pulling the drink to his poisoned lips and downing it in one gulp. His eyes fuzzied out and he had to take hold on the nearby sofa in order to prevent himself from toppling to the ground in a heap of homunculus. Instead, he managed to flop onto the couch, stretching his long legs out, bare feet in air. He shut his eyes then and massaged his temples, trying to break free from the constant haze assailing his mind and clamoring thoughts.

"So... What happened in Drachma, Toss?"

Ah, it came. Toss creaked open bleary red eyes and tried to focus them, blurting out quickly. "You have to...forgive me. Vanity, she...just is poison. It's in my system. 'm trying not to die at the moment. Hold on..." He let a fresh breath clear his lungs and tried to sit up, barely noticing as he listed to the side. "I crashed--remember? It was a test for the F476 model of Glorious over Amestris. Missiles... I was told to test everything, but there weren't weapons installed. I was shot down and I died." He took a shuddering breath, meeting Gavin's eyes directly. "I met you when I was human. Vanity turned me into...this. But it are these abilities that have allowed for our technology and flight to grow...so much. I'm Greed, but the only thing I want to take from you, Gavin, is your friendship as my King. So please...don't ask me that. I..." Toss flopped sideways slightly and coughed, cradling his center, and wincing evidently. "I--haha--I was asked by Vanity. It's an obligation--I can't say no. But now...I'm in control. She's mine ahahah... Ironically I crashed into the Kremlin. That was the second time I died." He was so bad under pressure... He wanted to curl up on his bed and just sleep...for a very, very long time. He didn't want to feel like this anymore. "No one knew I was Lon Dubh I assure you. But I had to tell her to get you... Like that, well, with a pike of ice stabbed through your middle...I was useless and incapable of escaping. I...'m really sorry. It wasn't supposed to be like that........"

Numbers were such funny things, and depending on your perspective and the perspectives of others, those numbers changed their values and worths instantly. 4,775,369. Within the palace walls and covering the whole of the little island, just short of five million men, women, and children. From the bands of nomadic Travelers that roamed the country to the Fathers and Sisters in the churches, and everyone who filled the small farming villages, towns and small cities, all of them were Creig, all all of them were whom Gavin had sworn to defend when he took the crown when he became a man. 5 million was so many to worry for, and yet, so few; in Amestris their fifth largest city boasted more people than all of Carraig. The world might not even care if the whole island sank and vanished, never to be seen again, their numbers so insignificant compared to those of other nations. 5 million to care for. And yet, at this moment, the only number that mattered was one. The young pilot that stretched out over the little sofa in the King's office. One man whom Gavin had gone to so much trouble to retrieve, one man whom he'd paid and trained for years and praised for his skill. One man whom 5 million depended on, whether they knew it or not.

Toss was... miserable. Moving seemed to hurt him, but big shock there. He was recovering from a giant icicle being kept in his middle for days. He seemed tired, and sick, but he also seemed so uncomfortable there in the office with Gavin, even though it was a place he'd been many times and been offered scotch before. The speech aid was laid in his lap as Gavin took another sip of his drink, waiting patiently to hear Toss out. So Vanity was the one who gave Toss the life he had and gave Carraig the power to move forward; he idly wondered if the lovley Sekretar was aware of that. A more mocking thought jested that he should send her a thank-you card but dismissed it quickly. Fingers casually scratched the massive dog behind the ears, the king listening carefully and thinking. Toss was Greed, and greed was such a tricky thing. It was easy to lie to yourself and tell yourself you weren't being greedy or selfish and that the things you did were truly for another's sake. He himself was guilty of it all his life. He loved his Sorcha with all his heart, but many had questioned if he hadn't adopted her simply to use her skill to further his plans for the country and to ease his own loneliness. Gavin constantly looked for ways to help the country build and grow reserves, making them wealthy as a nation for the first time since the country's birth, even though that was an ever-teetering danger and double-edged sword. Gavin had people check all over the world, seeking those who were the best in their specialites whose loyalty he could garner and put into service, all to further Carraig. It could even be argued that Gavin had only been so keen to save Toss because he was their best pilot and irreplaceable; Artemis had even called him an investment. Good as his intentions were, Gavin was arguably quite the greedy ruler, and he honestly didn't know what could be done for it.

But as he listened to Toss, something caught him. Something he hadn't even known he'd been hoping to hear in this explanation and confession. "I'm Greed, but the only thing I want to take from you, Gavin, is your friendship as my King. So please...don't ask me that." Hazel eyes never left the pilot, watching as he winced and move, trying to not look at the bandaged and stained midsection that defied all logic. His eyes were still intense and focused, but the gentle smile that moved to his mouth was very much there. They both wanted a lot of the same things then, didn't they? Gavin let out a long, soft sigh through his nose, standing up and retrieving the decanter, filling Toss' glass halfway up once more before sitting back down. "No one knew I was Lon Dubh I assure you. But I had to tell her to get you... Like that, well, with a pike of ice stabbed through your middle...I was useless and incapable of escaping. I...'m really sorry. It wasn't supposed to be like that........"

Gavin thought for a moment before he began typing on his speech aid again. Nobody but Reila knew Toss was Lon Dubh, but Vanity had seen him there in Briggs, and that Toss was coming back to Carraig. She was with RIOTE and if she relayed that information... it could all be very, very bad. "Toss, do you know why I did what I did to bring you back from Briggs?" Gavin typed again, waiting a moment to hit play and let his question sink in as he looked up at Toss. Play. "It was not because you are an investment, or my best pilot. You are a part of Carraig, and therefore my family. And I will defend and protect my family to the death." The sting of scotch was welcome in his throat, both hot and cold all at once, deep flavours and scents lingering on the back of his tongue and relaxing him as he took another sip. Gavin's rules had always been very clear; work hard for him, and he will do the same for you. Toss was more than dedicated, and Gavin would not let Toss go without a fight. The opening this had left exposed on them was dangerous, but if nothing else, Gavin's heart was eased knowing Toss hadn't and wouldn't betray him.

The whole situation was awkward. Ever feel like the air is smothering? Toss was sure that it wasn't due to the poison that he ingested and, instead, had something to do with him molding to the couch like a sack of soggy potatoes. It was gross--it was more than gross. He could barely keep his eyes open and was too busy wondering why that was so to catch that his glass was filled again. Mmm scotch it burned. His stomach was sizzling and squirming somewhere to the side of the gaping hole. Needlessly to say that the alcohol hadn't helped much with the dizziness. He had just spilled his guts, albeit literally, and allowed King Gavin to examine them to deem them still worthy or not. Ugh...the whole ordeal of proving oneself was just getting on his nerves. He certainly was worth saving, but showing Gavin that was easier said than done, ...despite all his flawless work in the past. Carraig was on its way to Space, and he was the lone pilot paving way for a literal stairway to heaven. Hell fucking yeah. His eyes opened cautiously, squinting through the fluorescent lighting to see the golden glow of his glass sneering at him to take just another sip. Toss finished it, coughing slightly as the fierce liquid captured itself in his throat and left long claw marks all the way down.

"Toss, do you know why I did what I did to bring you back from Briggs?" Hm? He turned his head, greasy white bangs piling between his eyes, making him truly look like a tame monster. They nearly glowed, alchemic bolts of energy jaggeding across the pale skin around the bandages. Healing, but healing slowly. Healing, but knowing full-well it would take much longer to sift through the poison a certain mirror-toting woman left behind from her lips. He wouldn't die. No, he wouldn't, but it would require a certain deal of suffering.

"Because I am your inv--"

"It was not because you are an investment, or my best pilot." Oh. "You are a part of Carraig, and therefore my family. And I will defend and protect my family to the death." Is that all? Toss as expecting an epic speech that he would have to sit through, but got this. He didn't really know what to make of it. Family? Hanna. Hah, the only family he had lived in South City, old, decrepit, ignorant, or in a coma. He loved his parents; he loved his sister, but most of all he loved flying. He used Carraig to fly--to pay for his ship, costs, expenses paid for. That who he had been, but not who he turned out to be. Greed was certainly greedy. As soon as he got what he wanted, he wanted more. Now, he wanted Gavin. But Toss was very aware that no one could 'own' a person; it was flat-out impossible. He had to...win him another way. He didn't plan it, but soon he found himself already earning something aside from money called trust. Trust wasn't tangible--invisible wealth. With this--with these words, Toss was a very wealthy man.

"And I you," Toss answered as a lover would, his red eyes alight with the inner passion one could only have for their family.

[EXIT THREAD]

The final drips of amber left the crystal glass, leaving a soothing burn down Gavin's throat that would, if nothing else, help him sleep a little easier tonight and settle his nerves for a little while. Tomorrow would be hell, most liekly, as he'd have a LOT of explaining to do. Where their big buyers had gone, where a decent chunk of money had gone, how he would have to reshuffle things to make up for the losses, and more importantly how he'd make things up to his guard. But for now, things were alright. His words, few that they had been, seemed to have left an impression on Toss and caught him a little off-guard, as though he weren't expecting them.

Gavin watched as somehting seemed to shift in Toss' gem-red eyes, pooling, burning and glowing, molten and alive, burning deep within the pilot. The air in the office had become less stifling and cleared, seeming to allow the coolness of the night and the brightness of the winter stars to ease things above the palace halls the way they always had. Those stars were Gavin's goal, and Toss' climbing wall. A tired puff moved past Gavin's lips as he stood once more, Cinders immediately standing to follow his master to bed. Fingers on the door's knob, Gavin paused, turning to look back at Toss with a look that was warm and sincere as his hand moved down to give Toss' shoulder a squeeze. The look was the same as the one he'd given the pilot before he'd come to as he pushed his bangs away from his eyes.

"Go home, get some rest," Gavin signed. "Have Arthur drive you home." The door opened and Gavin and his dog left, allowing Toss to see himself out and have one of the drivers take him home. There was nothing else he needed to say, really. Toss knew now why Gavin had risked so much, and that he'd meant it. He didn't need to point out that the consequences could have been disastrous, or that they'd nearly cost Gavin both his best pilot, Carraig's future and someone very dear to him. By now, Toss already knew.