Kasimir pushed a breath out of his nose, earning himself a sideways look from Hayley. Ryk’s pretend-secretary had been basically promoted to Kas’s actual assistant, at least until both Ryk and Cy were back at work. He wasn’t eager to put a timetable on exactly when that would be; it was important that they both took off the time they needed to bounce back from everything that happened with the inspection.
“The boss is ordering a psychiatric evaluation for Cyrilla?” Hayley looked down at the papers in her hands, fresh in from the mail.
Kas suppressed a groan. It looked like the fallout was already beginning. “Probably,” he agreed reluctantly. “Is that a form 75B?”
“Yeah,” she replied gravely. “I know the higher-ups know what they’re doing and everything, but… Cyrilla? Really? She’s so nice—I don’t understand what they could possibly think was wrong with her!”
Thankfully, Hayley was not the type to spread gossip around the office, which was part of the reason he’d picked her to do this job that technically they should have someone for but didn’t.
“That’s because you’re a generally well-meaning person with good intentions, Hayley,” Kas replied dryly. “And from that point of view, there is nothing wrong with her—except maybe a tendency to forego taking care of herself too often when she really should. But that’s not psych eval material.” Kas moved another stack of papers to the ‘done’ pile, flexing his cramped hand in the process. Arceus, that hurt.
Hayley picked up on his implication pretty quickly. “You think the Three Birds were out to get her?”
Well, it was more like two of the three were out to get everyone, especially Cy and Ryk, but he supposed that was close enough. “I can’t say,” he said, raising an eyebrow and giving her a meaningful look. She seemed to catch on, nodding back at him with a frown on her face.
She must have caught him massaging his hand, however, because the next thing she said changed topics. “Sir… I mean Kas,” she amended when he mock-glared. “Why don’t you go ahead and call it a day? The rest of this is just filing nonsense, and you’ve been here for longer than I have.”
Kas glanced at the clock. Fourteen hours, to be exact. When had he become the kind of person who’d work for fourteen hours? Or more accurately… let himself be seen working for fourteen hours? This was going to destroy his reputation as a slacker—he’d have to make up for it really thoroughly when Ryk and Cy got back. He’d have to shove all his work off on them for months for people to forget this.
“Seriously,” Hayley said, leveling him with a stern look. “I could use the overtime, and I know you’re on a salary, so don’t try and fool me.”
He chuckled slightly. “You’re a good woman, Hayley Stamfield. That Luke is fortunate you like him.” He winked playfully; she turned beet-red right on cue, turning away and mumbling something under her breath. Kas didn’t try to hard to make it out.
“Get out of here, you lousy rake,” she chided, making shooing motions with her hands. It was easy to tell she wasn’t actually upset—Kas could tell she was flattered more than anything. It was nice to know he still had his touch, considering just how often he felt like he’d managed to fuck up lately.
He thought for a moment about a hospital room and a vulnerable-looking friend, and shoved the thoughts forcefully out of his head. Stupid damn protective instinct. That was probably Harper’s fault. Damn her for making him an older brother and forcing him to develop that nascent part of himself into a full-fledged character trait. And honestly, damn Cyrilla for making him feel it when he didn’t want to.
But that was probably unfair. Pretending to be sufficiently intimidated, he said his goodbyes to Hayley and made his way out of the office. He was thinking about too many things, and while he was exhausted and hungry, he figured he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he tried and the idea of making something to eat really didn’t appeal right now. So instead he started down the road to Ana’s.
It was already past dark when he started out; by the time he got to her house, it had to be eight-thirty or so. Considerably past polite calling hours, but the thing about Ana was, she’d receive him graciously anyway. While it was probably rude to ask that of her, he really needed her to right now, and so he knocked on her door and stepped back to wait.
Predictably, Rufus barked a couple of times; Kas found himself smiling even despite the mood he was in. Ana opened the door soon after, smiling softly at him and ushering him indoors. They got situated in her kitchen when she learned he hadn’t eaten yet, and she worked on a stir-fry while he sat at the island, long legs wrapped around the foot-bar of a tall stool. He leaned against the light grey stone of the counter, his chin propped in both hands.
Ana moved around the kitchen with the ease and grace of long practice. It was actually kind of soothing to just watch her do things—she had this sort of unhurried efficiency about her that was relaxing. She also didn’t seem to mind the scrutiny, and unlike most people, she could shift easily between pleasant chatter and equally-pleasant silence, depending on what mood she believed he was in. She was remarkably good at guessing, too.
Today, she probably picked up on the fact that he wanted a distraction, and so she spoke.
“I’ve been teaching the magikarp some little tricks,” she said, scraping three eggs into the frying pan. They hit the surface with a sizzle, and she immediately started stirring them around to scramble them. “Just to keep them active, you know? Bubbles has some trouble because of his prosthetic, but he’s learning quickly, and I think it makes him happy to have something to work on, you know?”
Kas figured that only Ana would have the inclination to think up rehabilitative exercises for a magikarp with only one fin. He admired her immensely for it—and other times he wondered if she might not be a little… off in her assessment of things. He’d looked in plenty of magikarps’ faces before: it was pretty hard to tell their moods on a good day, and being able to understand them down to a complicated feeling like struggling but being glad to struggle was… well, he wasn’t sure it was possible.
And yet… hm. That was an interesting observation. He wondered if it might not be connected to what the Boss wanted her for.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, half-smiling.
She tilted her head at him. “But your thoughts are elsewhere,” she observed gently, adding mushrooms and chopped green onions to the pan. The aroma wafted through the kitchen, reminding him how hungry he was.
Her tone contained no admonishment, but he grimaced anyway. “Ryk and Cy,” he admitted. “You know as well as I do that they’ve been having a tough time of it lately; I feel pretty useless to them, really.” It was somehow much easier to admit to her than either of them. Even with Cyrilla, he hadn’t quite been able to spit it out in the right form. Maybe that was because his friendship with them would always be complicated on his end by the deception. Weirdly, he was more able to be honest with Ana, despite hiding a pretty massive secret from her as well. Maybe because he didn’t quite believe he’d let Project Nebula go through?
“What do you mean?” she asked. “You’re basically running the whole branch for them right now, aren’t you? That seems like something useful.”
“Maybe,” he conceded. “But that’s work. I can do it while they sort things out, but I can’t actually… help them, you know?”
Ana pursed her lips, stirring the rest of the vegetables into the pan and salting everything. “I think… you might be expecting the wrong things, Kas. No one, not even Eryk and Cy themselves, can just make them feel better about what happened. It’s a process, and it’s one that takes time, and energy, and a lot of work that they have to do for themselves. Not even they’ll be able to do it for each other. That would be like… being upset because you can’t… make a sick person no longer have a cold. You physically can’t. But you can bring them soup and blankets and make sure they don’t have to get up to do chores, right?”
He supposed he hadn’t thought of it that way. “Maybe I’m too used to trying to fix things,” he admitted, taking a sip from the glass of water near his place setting. “Or maybe I figured it had to be different because it was something psychological.” That didn’t seem right though.
“Or maybe you just care a lot,” she said with a shrug. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting them to be well, or wishing that they would. But these just aren’t the kind of things you can magically make go away, much as it might be good if they were. Trust me when I say I speak from experience—on both sides of that problem.”
“I’m jealous,” he admitted. Kas blinked, surprised by his own admission. He hadn’t meant to say that—it had just come out. “They’re so close, you know? Because of all the stuff they’ve been through together as family. And here I am, the third person in the group, friends with both, and… not as close as they are, even though I’ve known them for years. I just can’t touch what they are to each other, and… honestly, it makes me feel kind of… lonely. They could get along just fine without me, and me… I’d be miserable without them, here.”
Ana nodded as though she understood. Hell, maybe she did. He felt like an asshole for feeling the way he did, especially considering that he was going to have to betray them both one day. He didn’t want to hurt them, but that was exactly what being closer to his friends would do, eventually—hurt them. Possibly worse than Katia or Remi even could, in the long run.
“You have family, though, don’t you?” she asked.
He inclined his head. “Yeah,” he said. “And we’re close, but… my family’s not here, you know? My family aren’t also my coworkers, and best friends, and everything all at once. I don’t have anyone like that.”
Ana hummed, adding precooked rice from the fridge into the pan. “I suppose that would make it tougher,” she said. “But you know… most people don’t have anyone like that. And considering how unsupportive and… and cruel the rest of their family is, maybe that’s something they’ve needed. Something they still need.”
“Fuck the rest of their family,” he growled darkly. To his surprise, Ana scowled for a moment, her eyes hard, and nodded. “But… yeah, I don't doubt it. I don’t want to say I resent it, either, I just… seeing that really makes me feel the lack of something like it in my own life, you know?”
“I do. And it’s okay, you know. Jealousy isn’t a nice feeling, but I think sometimes it can help us figure out what really makes us happy in life, or understand more about what we want. I used to think I envied healthy people because they’d live a longer time than me, but… after I thought about it for long enough, I realized that what I really envied was the fact that they got to accomplish meaningful things with the time they had. And that was actually something I could do, too.”
Kas leaned forward slightly, smirking at her. “I can see why Ryk likes being around you so much,” he said, halfway between playful and serious. “You really don’t have a vindictive bone in your body, do you?”
She gave him a flat look for a second. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I wanted to say to whoever actually gave them those scars,” she said quietly. Backing up a step, Ana turned off the burner, plating his stir fry and sliding it across the island to him.
“Yes I would,” he replied. “Because you’d talk to them. I wouldn’t.” He’d do much worse than that.
“Eat your food, Kas. It’s better not to dwell on things we have no control over.”
He supposed she was probably right.
“The boss is ordering a psychiatric evaluation for Cyrilla?” Hayley looked down at the papers in her hands, fresh in from the mail.
Kas suppressed a groan. It looked like the fallout was already beginning. “Probably,” he agreed reluctantly. “Is that a form 75B?”
“Yeah,” she replied gravely. “I know the higher-ups know what they’re doing and everything, but… Cyrilla? Really? She’s so nice—I don’t understand what they could possibly think was wrong with her!”
Thankfully, Hayley was not the type to spread gossip around the office, which was part of the reason he’d picked her to do this job that technically they should have someone for but didn’t.
“That’s because you’re a generally well-meaning person with good intentions, Hayley,” Kas replied dryly. “And from that point of view, there is nothing wrong with her—except maybe a tendency to forego taking care of herself too often when she really should. But that’s not psych eval material.” Kas moved another stack of papers to the ‘done’ pile, flexing his cramped hand in the process. Arceus, that hurt.
Hayley picked up on his implication pretty quickly. “You think the Three Birds were out to get her?”
Well, it was more like two of the three were out to get everyone, especially Cy and Ryk, but he supposed that was close enough. “I can’t say,” he said, raising an eyebrow and giving her a meaningful look. She seemed to catch on, nodding back at him with a frown on her face.
She must have caught him massaging his hand, however, because the next thing she said changed topics. “Sir… I mean Kas,” she amended when he mock-glared. “Why don’t you go ahead and call it a day? The rest of this is just filing nonsense, and you’ve been here for longer than I have.”
Kas glanced at the clock. Fourteen hours, to be exact. When had he become the kind of person who’d work for fourteen hours? Or more accurately… let himself be seen working for fourteen hours? This was going to destroy his reputation as a slacker—he’d have to make up for it really thoroughly when Ryk and Cy got back. He’d have to shove all his work off on them for months for people to forget this.
“Seriously,” Hayley said, leveling him with a stern look. “I could use the overtime, and I know you’re on a salary, so don’t try and fool me.”
He chuckled slightly. “You’re a good woman, Hayley Stamfield. That Luke is fortunate you like him.” He winked playfully; she turned beet-red right on cue, turning away and mumbling something under her breath. Kas didn’t try to hard to make it out.
“Get out of here, you lousy rake,” she chided, making shooing motions with her hands. It was easy to tell she wasn’t actually upset—Kas could tell she was flattered more than anything. It was nice to know he still had his touch, considering just how often he felt like he’d managed to fuck up lately.
He thought for a moment about a hospital room and a vulnerable-looking friend, and shoved the thoughts forcefully out of his head. Stupid damn protective instinct. That was probably Harper’s fault. Damn her for making him an older brother and forcing him to develop that nascent part of himself into a full-fledged character trait. And honestly, damn Cyrilla for making him feel it when he didn’t want to.
But that was probably unfair. Pretending to be sufficiently intimidated, he said his goodbyes to Hayley and made his way out of the office. He was thinking about too many things, and while he was exhausted and hungry, he figured he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he tried and the idea of making something to eat really didn’t appeal right now. So instead he started down the road to Ana’s.
It was already past dark when he started out; by the time he got to her house, it had to be eight-thirty or so. Considerably past polite calling hours, but the thing about Ana was, she’d receive him graciously anyway. While it was probably rude to ask that of her, he really needed her to right now, and so he knocked on her door and stepped back to wait.
Predictably, Rufus barked a couple of times; Kas found himself smiling even despite the mood he was in. Ana opened the door soon after, smiling softly at him and ushering him indoors. They got situated in her kitchen when she learned he hadn’t eaten yet, and she worked on a stir-fry while he sat at the island, long legs wrapped around the foot-bar of a tall stool. He leaned against the light grey stone of the counter, his chin propped in both hands.
Ana moved around the kitchen with the ease and grace of long practice. It was actually kind of soothing to just watch her do things—she had this sort of unhurried efficiency about her that was relaxing. She also didn’t seem to mind the scrutiny, and unlike most people, she could shift easily between pleasant chatter and equally-pleasant silence, depending on what mood she believed he was in. She was remarkably good at guessing, too.
Today, she probably picked up on the fact that he wanted a distraction, and so she spoke.
“I’ve been teaching the magikarp some little tricks,” she said, scraping three eggs into the frying pan. They hit the surface with a sizzle, and she immediately started stirring them around to scramble them. “Just to keep them active, you know? Bubbles has some trouble because of his prosthetic, but he’s learning quickly, and I think it makes him happy to have something to work on, you know?”
Kas figured that only Ana would have the inclination to think up rehabilitative exercises for a magikarp with only one fin. He admired her immensely for it—and other times he wondered if she might not be a little… off in her assessment of things. He’d looked in plenty of magikarps’ faces before: it was pretty hard to tell their moods on a good day, and being able to understand them down to a complicated feeling like struggling but being glad to struggle was… well, he wasn’t sure it was possible.
And yet… hm. That was an interesting observation. He wondered if it might not be connected to what the Boss wanted her for.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, half-smiling.
She tilted her head at him. “But your thoughts are elsewhere,” she observed gently, adding mushrooms and chopped green onions to the pan. The aroma wafted through the kitchen, reminding him how hungry he was.
Her tone contained no admonishment, but he grimaced anyway. “Ryk and Cy,” he admitted. “You know as well as I do that they’ve been having a tough time of it lately; I feel pretty useless to them, really.” It was somehow much easier to admit to her than either of them. Even with Cyrilla, he hadn’t quite been able to spit it out in the right form. Maybe that was because his friendship with them would always be complicated on his end by the deception. Weirdly, he was more able to be honest with Ana, despite hiding a pretty massive secret from her as well. Maybe because he didn’t quite believe he’d let Project Nebula go through?
“What do you mean?” she asked. “You’re basically running the whole branch for them right now, aren’t you? That seems like something useful.”
“Maybe,” he conceded. “But that’s work. I can do it while they sort things out, but I can’t actually… help them, you know?”
Ana pursed her lips, stirring the rest of the vegetables into the pan and salting everything. “I think… you might be expecting the wrong things, Kas. No one, not even Eryk and Cy themselves, can just make them feel better about what happened. It’s a process, and it’s one that takes time, and energy, and a lot of work that they have to do for themselves. Not even they’ll be able to do it for each other. That would be like… being upset because you can’t… make a sick person no longer have a cold. You physically can’t. But you can bring them soup and blankets and make sure they don’t have to get up to do chores, right?”
He supposed he hadn’t thought of it that way. “Maybe I’m too used to trying to fix things,” he admitted, taking a sip from the glass of water near his place setting. “Or maybe I figured it had to be different because it was something psychological.” That didn’t seem right though.
“Or maybe you just care a lot,” she said with a shrug. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting them to be well, or wishing that they would. But these just aren’t the kind of things you can magically make go away, much as it might be good if they were. Trust me when I say I speak from experience—on both sides of that problem.”
“I’m jealous,” he admitted. Kas blinked, surprised by his own admission. He hadn’t meant to say that—it had just come out. “They’re so close, you know? Because of all the stuff they’ve been through together as family. And here I am, the third person in the group, friends with both, and… not as close as they are, even though I’ve known them for years. I just can’t touch what they are to each other, and… honestly, it makes me feel kind of… lonely. They could get along just fine without me, and me… I’d be miserable without them, here.”
Ana nodded as though she understood. Hell, maybe she did. He felt like an asshole for feeling the way he did, especially considering that he was going to have to betray them both one day. He didn’t want to hurt them, but that was exactly what being closer to his friends would do, eventually—hurt them. Possibly worse than Katia or Remi even could, in the long run.
“You have family, though, don’t you?” she asked.
He inclined his head. “Yeah,” he said. “And we’re close, but… my family’s not here, you know? My family aren’t also my coworkers, and best friends, and everything all at once. I don’t have anyone like that.”
Ana hummed, adding precooked rice from the fridge into the pan. “I suppose that would make it tougher,” she said. “But you know… most people don’t have anyone like that. And considering how unsupportive and… and cruel the rest of their family is, maybe that’s something they’ve needed. Something they still need.”
“Fuck the rest of their family,” he growled darkly. To his surprise, Ana scowled for a moment, her eyes hard, and nodded. “But… yeah, I don't doubt it. I don’t want to say I resent it, either, I just… seeing that really makes me feel the lack of something like it in my own life, you know?”
“I do. And it’s okay, you know. Jealousy isn’t a nice feeling, but I think sometimes it can help us figure out what really makes us happy in life, or understand more about what we want. I used to think I envied healthy people because they’d live a longer time than me, but… after I thought about it for long enough, I realized that what I really envied was the fact that they got to accomplish meaningful things with the time they had. And that was actually something I could do, too.”
Kas leaned forward slightly, smirking at her. “I can see why Ryk likes being around you so much,” he said, halfway between playful and serious. “You really don’t have a vindictive bone in your body, do you?”
She gave him a flat look for a second. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I wanted to say to whoever actually gave them those scars,” she said quietly. Backing up a step, Ana turned off the burner, plating his stir fry and sliding it across the island to him.
“Yes I would,” he replied. “Because you’d talk to them. I wouldn’t.” He’d do much worse than that.
“Eat your food, Kas. It’s better not to dwell on things we have no control over.”
He supposed she was probably right.