˃Perry the Platypus: Remember your training.
Breathe.
You just need to-
Breathe.
Push down your emotions. You don't need them right now, they'll only get in the way.
Breathe.
All that matters is the mission.
Breathe.
Everything else is secondary.
Breathe.
You're Perry the Platypus, and you do not break down.
You may be sitting in your parked hoverjet outside your nemesis's building, working up the courage to pull your paws off the steering wheel you're clutching, but you do not. break. down.
With one last unsteady breath, you set your face in the usual stoic mask. Your armour. It'll hold, it always does, so all you have to worry about is finishing your mission and getting back out. Should be easy enough. After all, you're a professional.
And you need to start acting like it, so you get out, locking the hoverjet behind you. Just thwart and run, you can do that. Heinz won't like it but you'll make it up to him another day.
You take the stairs, deliberately for once. Nothing like a long climb to get your head on straight. Your legs are aching by the end, but you welcome the way it's giving you something to focus on besides the hollow ache in your chest. Something familiar. You know how to deal with aching muscles.
Looking up at his door, you take a deep breath. What are you so worried about? This is Heinz, he's no danger to anyone but himself.
Kicking the door down is easy, as is walking in to find-
The trap. Fuck.
You're off your game today. How could you forget that? He only does it every single time. You push at the bars, trying to find the usual weak spot. Nothing.
"Perry the Platypus?" Heinz says, looking over at you. "You're early, I haven't even finished my inator yet." And indeed he hasn't. Half the panels are still open, with loose wires dangling from them. He himself is elbow-deep in the guts of it. "So if you could just hang around- No, wait, that doesn't work. I thought for sure you'd fall for the rope trap today."
It aches to look at his smile, and you grit your teeth. Breathe, Perry. You can do this.
He continues on, completely ignoring your lack of response. "I suppose you're wondering what this is, huh?" Dramatic pause, ruined only by the sound of him dropping a screw and swearing under his breath. "Well I'll tell you. It's my Telepathy-inator! Or will be once it's, you know, done."
You twist your paws around the bars of the cage, willing them to stop shaking. All you have to do is stop him. That's it. Then you can go hole up in your base and train until you can't any more. Until you're so exhausted you can't think any more. And maybe, if you're lucky, you won't feel any more. Feeling is exhausting.
"Don't look at me like that, Perry the Platypus, I'm working as fast as I can." He closes up the panel and moves to the next one. "I suppose I should give you my monologue while you're waiting, huh?"
All you can do is close your eyes and force yourself to breathe. You won't break. No matter how much you just want it all over, you're not going to break down. You refuse.
Leaning into the inator, so you couldn't see his face even if you were looking, he begins. "You know how you don't talk? Of course you do, it's like your thing. And I don't mind, really, but do you have any idea how hard it is to have a conversation with you? I never know what you're thinking. Maybe you hate me, I don't know. And I don't mean in the nemesis way, I'm talking like 'oh that Doof, what a dummkopf, why doesn't he just give up already'. You know, the usual." The words hang in the air, laced with bitterness. "Do you know why I haven't given up? Well I'll tell you why. Because then you'd stop coming over."
You wince. Does he really think you would? You've been his nemesis for so long, you would never-
"You're my best friend! And I don't even know if you feel the same way about me. Or anything, really. I barely know you, Perry the Platypus."
That's because you can't-
Fucking breathe, damnit. It's not hard. You're Perry the Platypus, you can do this.
He sighs, slumping against the inator. "I just want to talk to you. Properly. I want to get to know you, the real you. And don't lie, Perry the Platypus. I can tell when you lie. You get that look on your face, that one right- Are you okay?"
No.
"Really, you don't look so good," he continues, and you hear the sound of his tools clattering to the floor. "Are you hurt? You'd better not be, because then I'd have to find whoever did this and hurt them. Because I will."
Deep breaths, Perry. He's not supposed to see you like this, he's your nemesis. It's your job to be stoic and unfeeling.
His form casts a shadow over you as he pulls the cage apart like it's paper. "You're my nemesis," he continues, "it's my job to hurt you. In the right way." He scoops you into his arms, and the care with which he does it is enough to shatter your armour. "And this is not the right way."
A sob escapes your throat as you shake against him, burying your face in his lab coat to hide your tears. You don't want him to see you like this. Not when he needs you to be strong.
"Shh, I've got you, Perry the Platypus," he murmurs, a hand running soothingly down your back. "I've got you. How many times have you helped me, huh? Too many to count, that's for sure. So relax, I've got you." He shifts you in his arms, pulling your forehead to his. "I'm here."
He's here.
The words echo with your heartbeat, with your breathing, somehow steadier than either. He's here, he's here, he's here. There isn't much in your life that you can trust, but you can be certain of this.
He's here.
You grip his shirt tighter, sobs wracking your body, taking comfort in his solidity.
He's here.
And, slowly, you can breathe again.
His hand stops, curling around your shoulders. "How are you doing? Feeling any better? Good," he says, before you can answer. But he's right. He exhales, and smiles wearily. "You had me worried there, Perry the Platypus. Something must really be bothering you, huh?"
You nod, squeezing your eyes shut. He's right about that too. As much as you hate to admit it, because what sort of secret agent are you if you can't handle this part of the job, you know it's getting to you. It shouldn't, but it is.
"Want to talk about it? Talking always helps me- don't give me that look, you encourage my monologues- so I figure, why not, maybe you'll find it helpful too. I mean, not talking exactly, since you don't- is that what's bothering you? That you can't talk? Because trust me, I've been there-"
Of course he has. But-
It's an effort to let go of his shirt but you do, slapping your paw over his mouth. You need him to listen. He's the only one who can.
And that's half the problem, isn't it.
He's silent when you let your paw fall to your side, let your head fall on his shoulder, let tears fall. Silent, but not unmoving. You chirr weakly as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, chest rumbling with what has to be a purr. You've missed hugs like this. Ones where you can respond, hug back, let your guard down. Cry. It's terrifying to let yourself feel again, after so long spent pushing down your emotions because you couldn't afford to let them show, you couldn't afford to lose-
You're safe. He's got you.
The warmth of his body surrounds you as you burrow into him, listening to his steady heartbeat. You're safe here. He won't let anything, or anyone, hurt you. That's his job.
And even then, there are limits. Boundaries he keeps to for the sake of your nemesisship, rules you've defined your friendship by. Reasons to trust him. All building up until you-
You swallow thickly, pushing your feelings back down. Deep breaths. Just because you broke down once, doesn't mean you'll fall to pieces. You won't. You refuse.
A soft exhale and he pulls you closer, running his fingers through your fur. "I always thought you were, I don't know, invulnerable. Nothing ever bothers you, except me I guess but that's different- What I'm trying to say is, why didn't you tell me?"
Because you're supposed to be the strong one. For him. For your family. For everyone relying on you, whether they know it or not. You have to be strong.
"I could help!" he continues. "It's only fair. You're the big strong hero who always saves the day, and I'm..."
Your nemesis. That's all you've ever asked him to be. The man you fight, the man you defeat, not the one you seek comfort from. And yet he's become that too.
Why do you trust him? Out of everyone you've ever known, what is it about him? You're ignoring your training to do this. Trusting your nemesis is dangerous, you know that, agents have died from trusting the wrong person, so why do you do it?
He lifts your chin until you're staring into his deep blue eyes. "Why do you put up with me, huh? And don't say it's for my personality, we both know that's not true."
It aches to look at his smile, and you close your eyes. Deep breath. Curl your paw around the back of his neck.
Find his mouth with your own.
"Oh," is all he says when you pull back. He's chewing his lip, staring at a point over your head, and a new ache burns in your chest. "That's... that's how you feel, huh?"
It is, isn't it.
Reluctantly, you let your paw fall from his shirt. Blink back tears. Breathe. You've spent so long denying how you felt, refusing to want what you can't have, making yourself okay with isolation. What other choice did you have?
As much as you've wished otherwise, in the brief moments your resolve slips, it's part of the job. The mission always has to come first. No room for feelings.
Now you know why.
You can't look at him. Can't bear the reminder of your mistakes. You threw aside your friendship for a kiss, and you can't ever take that back. So you shove at him, demanding he let you go.
He doesn't.
Instead, he pulls you tighter against him, thumb brushing along your jaw, and you let him. You let him. Without even a token protest, because you're too weak to refuse him, you let him trap you here.
"I'm not mad, Perry the Platypus," he says eventually, holding you to his chest, "I'm..." A pause, and you can clearly picture the way his mouth twists as he searches for the word, teeth tugging at his lip. "-worried. This isn't like you at all."
The sound of his heartbeat echoes in your ear and you squeeze your eyes shut, pretending his arms around you aren't the only thing holding you together. You're not supposed to want this.
A sigh, and he shifts his grip, cradling you. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, I can stay here until you're ready to thwart me."
How can he think of thwarting at a time like this?
You hate him. You really fucking hate him, with his warm hands and his raspy voice and the way he has no idea what he's done to you. What he's still doing.
"But it really does help," he adds, oblivious as always. "Talking about it. You taught me that, you know? Before you, I kept it all secret, like people would think less of me for it. I mean, they do, but you don't. I appreciate that. It means a lot."
He doesn't understand. Secrecy isn't a choice for you. Lying to your family isn't something you do because you want to. It's the price you pay to keep them safe.
Most of the time you're fine with that. The memory of last time still lingers in the back of your mind, a reminder of why it has to be this way, why they can't know. You can't let them get involved in this life, can't put them in danger, can't-
Breathe. They're safe. At home, doing what they always do, seizing the day. Protected from the darkness in the world by you and agents like you.
But you can't protect anyone right now, can you. Not even yourself.
You cling to him, trembling, knowing you're still crying and unable to stop. Broken. That's what you are, broken. You're not strong, not carefree, not any of the things people think you are.
All you are is lies.
His fingers brush gently through your fur again and you chirr in frustration, torn between leaning into him and pushing him away. Not knowing who you are any more. You're falling apart, and-
And his hands are large enough to hold you.
"I've got you," he says again, and what can you do but believe him? "Come on, let's take the day off, what do you say? We can watch a movie, I'll make popcorn, it'll be great!"
You-
Breathe.
Scrub your tears away. Look up into his eyes. Take his offered hand. Squeeze.
He beams at you and you can't help but smile back, swallowing around the lump in your throat. There's something about him. Your nemesis, your lifelong enemy, your-
You'll figure the rest out later.
For now, you slump forwards into him, close your eyes, and breathe. He's got you.
Gently, so gently, his hands come up around you, holding you to his chest as he gets to his feet. "Maybe you'll be ready to tell me one day, huh?" He fusses around the apartment, the steady rhythm of his footsteps draining the tension from your muscles, stress you hadn't realised was there at all. How long has it been since you could let your guard down? "Won't that be something? You giving me a backstory. I mean, it's normally my job, because I can, you know, talk-"
And talk, and talk-
"-which isn't to say that you can't, I don't want to assume, except I've known you for a while and you would have said something by now if you could and you haven't so I think that means you can't? Not that you need to with those eyebrows of yours, I usually get what you mean, I just..." He stops, eyes closed, fingers curled around a door handle, only moving again when you chirr at him. "I wonder sometimes. You know me, always worrying about nothing. Making mountains out of molehills, you remember that scheme right? That was, uh. Not fun." Popcorn in hand, he drops into an armchair, still holding you close. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, you probably already know- but I mean I can't be sure unless I tell you- Oh, I get it now."
You lift your head, blinking at him. What's he on about?
"You-" He gestures, punctuating the word. "-thought I knew how you felt about me, even though you never told me, and when you found out I didn't know, you..." Trailing off, he lets out a heavy sigh. "Did you mean it?"
Oh. You glance down, at where his fingers are curled around your side, steady as they always are. If you didn't know him so well, you'd think he was unbothered. But his jaw's tight and his voice is strained and he can't meet your eyes, and his words echo with the heartbeat under your paws, a raw fucking honesty that twists in your chest like a knife.
You understand how the truth can seem like evil, now.
Did you mean it?
How do you answer that? He's your nemesis. You're not supposed to-
Did you mean it?
You're emotionally compromised. Not in your right mind. Acting on instinct-
Did you mean it?
He's stripped you of your armour, laid you bare, left you vulnerable and exposed for the first time in your life. No emotionless façade to hide behind. You can't deny the feelings tugging at your heart, you can't deny this, and you're terrified of what that means. How do you reconcile that with-
Deep breaths, Perry. Just close your eyes and breathe. Feel his thumb brushing absently over your fur, until he notices he's doing it and stops. Lean into his hand when he starts again a few seconds later. He could do anything to you right now, and he does this.
Did you mean it?
Honesty has never come easy to you. Your job's demanded you live a lie, wrap it around yourself until even you believe it, become whoever you need to be to complete your missions. It's never been all that comfortable, fitting yourself into the box for society's sake, but it's familiar. It's-
Not what Heinz needs from you.
As terrifying as it is to admit vulnerability, he deserves to know the truth. The real you. You owe him that much.
Did you mean it?
Exhaling, you nod. You did. Of course you did. He's your nemesis, and you love him with a certainty that's left the rest of your world unsteady under your paws. Somehow, without you even noticing, he's become your everything. Your paw finds his hand and you squeeze, pleading for him to trust you, believe you, the way you can't help but trust him.
He squeezes back, jaw tight. You watch as thoughts cross his face, too fast to identify, then he sighs. "You're not going to try to run away this time, Perry the Platypus?" he asks, grinning at you like it's a joke. It's not, you know that much. Beneath his grin is a man who's been hurt too many times, looking at you with apprehension in his eyes, waiting. One wrong move and he'll never trust you again.
This is it. You have to get this right.
You meet his eyes. Squeeze his hand again, in an effort to get your paws to stop shaking. Try to smile back. Breathe. You're tired of running. Tired of hiding. Just. fucking. tired.
So is he. You can see it on his face, behind a strained smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Exhaustion, wariness, pain. A pain that you contributed to. He sighs, letting his hands fall, letting you go, and you realise what you have to do. How to tell him.
Stretching across his chest, you pull at his arms, wrapping them around yourself as best you can. You're not going anywhere.
His arms tighten around you and he exhales, air rattling in his chest. "I thought you were going to leave," he mumbles into your fur. "You're good at that, walking out like you have better places to be than with me- I mean it's probably true, all I do is monologue, and not even a good monologue- of course it's not, I'm an evil scientist, I don't do Good- I'm monologuing again, aren't I." He groans, running a hand through his hair. "The point is. When you leave - don't look at me like that, I'm talking about when you go back to your Agency, or wherever it is you disappear to when you're done thwarting me - how do I know you'll come back?"
You will. Pressing closer, you nudge at his chin with your bill, a soft touch that leaves your nerves tingling in its wake. You'll always come back for him. How could you not?
"Don't... don't lie to me, Perry the Platypus," he says, avoiding your gaze. "I've heard it all before. You think you're the first? Charlene said the same thing, and look how that turned out. Why should you be any different, huh? One day you'll get sick of me and stop bothering to show up, just like everyone else, and I don't know how to be okay with that. I-" His breath hitches, almost a sob, and he curls his shaking fingers around you. Despite that, his voice, when he speaks again, is steady. "I would have let you go, you know. If you'd asked."
Somehow, you doubt that. He's never been one to let go. The grudges he carries with him are proof of that.
A sigh, and he corrects himself. "I should have. You know what they say, 'if you love something, let it go, it's better off without you'. That's what Mother always told me, anywho."
Love. He said-
"She was right, too, but I've always been selfish..."
You trace a heart on his chest while he rambles on, claws catching on the fabric of his shirt. An answer, or a question, or both, you're not sure. He'll figure it out, he always does.
"Yes, I said it, I love you," he says, more a complaint than anything. "Don't know why. You're always hitting me, for one thing. I know it's your thing but can't you pull a punch every now and then? Sheesh."
Slumping forwards into him, you draw more symbols onto his collarbone. A heart, again. The letter U. A two. Love you too.
He laughs, a bitter sound that twists in your gut. "You love me? An hour ago you couldn't get away fast enough!"
An hour ago you kissed him.
"You're a real master of the mixed message, Perry the Platypus, you know that? See, this is why I thought you hated me. And not in the nemesis way, I'm fine with that, I signed up for that. Literally signed up for it, your Agency has those assigned nemesis request forms- Anyway. What I'm not fine with is this. It's like I'm nothing to you."
You wince. Fuck. You fucked up. You've heard his backstories, you know he's scared of being abandoned, again, and you still tried to run. He deserves better.
Mouth twisting, he tightens his arms around you. "That was too far, wasn't it."
No. It wasn't.
"I didn't mean it. Not like that. You know me, I tend to lash out, like I'll hurt less if someone else hurts more. It doesn't work that way, I know that, but I keep doing it anyway like some kind of dummkopf." With a sigh, he leans his head back, staring at the ceiling. "What's wrong with me, Perry the Platypus? I-" He swallows, visibly. "I'm sorry."
You're sorry too. Hurting him like this isn't like your thwartings, it won't heal quickly. It may not ever fully heal. Just another aching scar on his heart, that you put there.
His fingers run through your fur again, a gentle rhythm you're not sure he's even aware of. "I keep pushing you away, like I want to be lonely. But I don't. I'm." Breath hitching, like a sob, he curls around you, pressing his face into your shoulder. "I'm terrified of being alone. I don't talk about it much but I am. And I can't just ask you to stay because one day you won't and that would hurt more I think, leaving when you'd said you'd stay. And don't tell me you won't leave, I can't believe that any more - not because of you, don't worry - just... Promise me you'll at least tell me when you leave? And... and why. It hurts less when I know."
Nodding, you wrap your arms around him, as far as they'll go, holding him while he trembles against you. The last thing you want to do is leave him more broken than you found him.
"So..." he says eventually, slumping back against the chair like he's not blatantly changing the subject, "what do you want to watch? That soap opera you like is on~ Well I assume you like it, you watch it with me and I don't know if that means you do or if you're just being polite... it's nice to have your company though..." Groaning, he runs a hand over his face. "Am I overthinking this again?"
Sitting up, you roll your eyes at him fondly. You both know the answer to that one.
He pulls a face. "Ugh, of course I am. Anyway." His hands settle firmly on your shoulders. "Correct me if I'm wrong, here, Perry the Platypus. You like me."
Yes.
"As a... friend."
Not the term you'd use, but-
"Nemesis, right. And you're here because you like... spending... time... with me?"
How could you not? Behind all the abrasiveness is the one person who's ever truly understood you. A man whose relentless passion leaks into everything he does, from scheming to chopping vegetables.
"And." He stops, closing his eyes, and takes a breath. "When you kissed me, you... you meant that."
More than anything.
He exhales. "Right. So... I've been wanting to do this for a while... You won't object if I..."
Kiss you. He's kissing you.
You chirr in the back of your throat, paws sliding up around his face to hold him close, eyes falling shut of their own accord. Vision doesn't matter when you can feel the pulse of electricity in his nerves, map out the shape of him with your bill, know how fast his heart's beating. An intimacy you'd never thought possible. Your own heart's racing too, thumping so loud in your chest you're certain he'll hear it.
He pulls away first, a hand still curled around the back of your head, and smiles softly. With his other hand he brushes away the tears you hadn't noticed running down your cheeks, a gentle touch you can't help but lean into. Would it really be so bad if-
The watch on your wrist buzzes and you jump, slapping a paw over it. It's late, you stayed too long, you have to-
Breathe, Perry.
"You're leaving?" he asks, disappointment leaking into his words, and you smile apologetically.
As much as you do enjoy his company, you can't stay. You have to let your family know you're safe. With your line of work, with your cover, something could happen to you and they wouldn't know until you don't come home. They'd never know the truth. All you can do to stop the guilt is show them you're alright.
He nudges your chin up until you're staring him in the eyes. "You have a family? I mean, everyone has a family, but you're always so closed off, so I thought..."
That's the fucking problem. You're not allowed to be anything but, as he says, "closed off", and it's killing you inside. Just once, you want the freedom to live for yourself, not just your mission. Be Perry the Platypus, not just a-
"Ohh, secret agent," he says, like it explains everything. "Don't worry, Perry the Platypus, your secret's safe with me. I won't tell anyone you have feelings."
You roll your eyes again at his grin. Typical Heinz.
It fades a second later as his eyes flick down to your locket and the paw you hadn't realised you'd curled around it. Before you can unwrap your fingers from it, he speaks, voice barely above a whisper. "They really mean a lot to you, huh? You should tell me about them sometime, how about it?"
Taking a deep breath, you smile. Yeah. You'd like that. It's not often you get to brag about them, after all, and you are proud. You may have to live a lie with them, but you can live with that. It's worth the pain. Your life is richer for having them and their brilliance in it.
Heinz too. You can't imagine your life without him any more, this man you've grown to love. He's so much more than he'd seemed at first glance, everything you hadn't realised you needed, slotting neatly into place in your heart.
One last kiss on his cheek and you pull back, as far as you can go with his hand still twisted into your fur. Meeting his eyes, you give him another soft smile, tapping at your locket and waving your other paw in the direction of the door. You really do have to go, before your family worries.
"Right, you're leaving," he says, untangling his fingers from your fur and stroking it flat. "See you tomorrow, Perry the Platypus?"
You nod, sliding down to the floor, and-
"Say hi to your family for me!"
Catch your claws on the armchair. Fuck. He still doesn't understand, you have to-
Breathe.
Tugging your fingers free, you give him an informal salute. You can explain it to him. Tomorrow.
Today, you leave, breathing easier than you have all year.
The elevator ride down to your hoverjet is quiet, and as you step out you catch a glimpse of your face in the mirror.
You're smiling. The idea's absurd, and yet-
Heinz was right. Talking does help.
Reaching the hoverjet, you climb in and engage the autopilot, then clutch at the steering wheel and laugh as it takes off for home.
You, Perry the Platypus, smiling. What has the world come to?
Something good, you think, lifting your face to the wind blowing past. It stings at your eyes, dances through your fur, carries away your voice, and you can't stop laughing. Not even to fucking breathe.
It's all Heinz's fault. Of course it is. Trust him to make your life interesting.
Breathe.
Without him, your life would be so much simpler.
Breathe.
Just you and the mission.
Breathe.
And the family you can't talk to.
Breathe.
Emotions locked down and struggling to-
Breathe.
Slumping back in your seat with an exhausted chirr, you close your eyes against the late afternoon sun. It's warm on your fur, melting the last of the tension from your body, and you feel an involuntary smile tugging at your bill. It's been a good day. You're not sure how, after everything, but it has. All you know is, for the first time in a long time, your chest doesn't ache when you breathe.
AN: Title from No Roads Left by Linkin Park. Summary from Pushing Me Away by Linkin Park. Crossposted from ao3.
Nothing quite like hurt/comfort that proceeds to calling the one who was being comforted out on his shit. :D