Lucas has trouble opening up again.
(To his credit, is completely understandable)
His only brother was back from the dead. It seemed like a miracle, maybe it was too good to be true. Maybe Lucas didn't deserve the happy ending he wanted. Maybe it was the universe's way of denying him of his only source of joy and familiarity.
He could recall good days with his father, that was for sure. But after everything that happened, after Claus's first death, everything changed and everything came crashing down. And Lucas, the poor little boy was forced to rebuild his walls even higher and higher until nobody could reach his heart anymore.
Except those walls were thin and delicate because Lucas was a gentle boy (he always had been). Those walls collapsed too easily under the slightest emotional havoc. The minute he found himself caring too much for another individual was when they'd turn on him and juggle his trust and heart like glass.
This Claus isn't the Claus he knew.
The Claus he knew slept until noon and then stuffed his face with omelets until he complained of a stomachache. The Claus he knew poked at anthills and tried to race birds until they'd fly too high and out of sight. The Claus he knew was vivacious and full of laughter, full of charm, just as he was, full of love.
That was the Claus he loved.
This Claus- the Commander, was everything but.
He was monotonous (he lacked vitality). He was orderly (so cold and calculated). He had every bit of personality as a block of ice too hard to be carved and too big to be moved.
This was not the Claus Lucas loved.
Or was it?
Lucas rises up from his bed, plagued by thoughts and doubts. He turns his head, over to his side where his supposed brother lay sleeping beside him.
It's not Claus, but he looks oh so alike. It's not Claus, but he breathes softly and brokenly when he sleeps too lightly. It's not Claus, but he is, isn't he?
Somehow, somewhere, deep down, it was still Claus.
And perhaps this was the new Claus, the one that Lucas just had to accept, as much as his rigid body told him not to. As much as he wanted to cry and scream and beg for the old Claus back, perhaps the old Claus was never going to come back.
But he was here, alive.
Despite it all.
(And that's all that mattered, Lucas realized).
X
"It's a sunflower," Lucas explains. The Commander nods, a motion of brevity.
They're walking together in the fields of town. There's a big sunflower meadow just up the hill from Tazmily, and Lucas visited often. Duster suggested bringing Claus along, to jog his legs (and his memory).
"They face towards the sun, hence the name sunflowers," Lucas explains, afraid that the silence would suffocate him. He's spent too long in silence, in fact, only after their world was reset did Lucas properly start speaking again. "You can also eat the seeds."
"Organic," the Commander remarks off-handedly. "They're very beautiful. Nature can create some extraordinary things."
"Yeah," Lucas agrees. "They're nice, aren't they? They remind me of our mom."
"Your mom," the commander corrects. Lucas's heart sinks in his chest.
"Yes... my mom," He whispers. "She liked sunflowers too. Very much so. At least, that's what I believed. In every dream of mine, she appeared in a field of sunflowers smiling at me."
"Your mother must have been a kind woman," the Commander says.
Lucas looks down.
She's our mom. How could you forget her?
He forces those thoughts away and offers Claus a small smile.
"She was the kindest mom," Lucas tells him.
They walk for a while, neither of them saying much. Lucas didn't quite know what to say, in fact. He didn't want to bring up another topic of their childhood that Claus could not remember. Instead, Lucas reaches out and plucks a sunflower from its stem.
"Here," Lucas says. He presents the sunflower to the Commander, who blinks, puzzled.
"It's a gift. From me to you. A sunflower." Lucas says gently. The Commander can only stare at the flower, yellow petals decorating the bold chestnut center. The wind picks up, sways the flower's leaves back and forth and tickles their cheeks. The Commander makes no move to accept the offering, and Lucas is about to panic until a gloved hand reaches out.
"Thank you..." the cyborg replies. His voice suddenly sounds less robotic, less static. It sounds... hollow, but somehow, human. Then it's gone, carried away by the breeze.
"You're welcome," Lucas smiles.
They stand for a bit longer. Lucas looks at the town of Tazmily, atop the sunflower field. It's homey, it's quaint. (If Claus were here, he'd ask Lucas to race him down the hill. Then they'd run and laugh until their sides hurt, and collapse onto the grass.)
"Shall we head back to town?" The Commander asks. Lucas looks overhead to the sun already beginning to travel across the horizon. Soon it would be sundown, and soon it would be dark.
"That's a good idea," Lucas replies. "Come on, let's go back. We'll be missing dinner if we stay out any later."
"I do not require food to keep myself sustained," The Commander says, though he's following Lucas dutifully back to Tazmily.
"But you can still eat food right?" Lucas responds.
"Yes, I believe I can," The cyborg informs. "Though it's not a need. It doesn't benefit me much, my stomach is made of metal anyway."
Lucas winces. He tries to not think too much about the implications of that. How there was a possibility they took Claus under the knife and scooped his insides away to create the perfect chimera who needed no energy to survive.
He shudders.
Flint greets them at the door. The house smells like a charcoal kiln. His father wasn't exactly the greatest chef in the world, but all his products were at least edible. They'd taste good to people who exclusively ate burnt food for a living.
But Lucas always smiles and scarfs down as much as he can. Seeing Flint smile in return was rewarding enough to wash out the bitter taste of burnt steak in his mouth.
The two of them trudge through the door, Lucas heading in first and the Commander on his heel.
"Oh, you might want to put that elsewhere if you're gonna eat," Flint says warily to the cyborg.
The Commander turns his head to see what the older man is referencing. Flint points at the sunflower still held tightly in the Commander's arms.
He doesn't reply straight away, which solicits a nervous feeling from Lucas. Instinctively he reaches for the hem of his father's sleeve. Both of them eye the Commander with concern, wondering if they had said something they shouldn't have.
Then out of the blue, the Commander says "I would rather not. It was a gift. From Lucas to me, and I would like to cherish it."
Lucas blinks, his grip loosening. Flint's just as surprised, his eyes widening ever so slightly. They exchange a look, and while Lucas wouldn't exactly say he was confused, it certainly caught him off guard. In the last few days he's been here, the Commander was quite reserved and did what was told of him without question (as a robot should, of course). To see the cyborg randomly defy an order was sort of refreshing, albeit a little sudden and out of the blue.
It was quite a human thing to do.
Lucas is quick to smile. "Okay, you can carry it around if you want," He says assuringly.
The Commander looks somewhat pleased with himself. Dutifully he carries the sunflower over to the kitchen area, and Lucas looks up at Flint.
"Well, that was sure something," He remarks. Flint nods.
"Although I'm afraid of the flower getting food on it- or the other way around- it is a little nice to see him have opinions for himself," Flint hums. He turns to Lucas. "Did you give him that flower?"
"Yes," Lucas replies. "We went up the hill today. I just- I wanted to give him something, kind of just to see how he would react." It's not completely a lie, yet not completely true either.
Flint ruffles Lucas's hair affectionately. "Lucky for you he seems to like it,"
"I'm glad," Lucas admits truthfully.
"Pardon my intrusion," the Commander's head pokes in from the doorway (he's still holding onto the sunflower). "I have set the plates and the utensils out on the table, and poured water. Is there anything else I should do?"
"No, Commander," Lucas calls back. "You've done well, we'll be there in a second."
The Commander disappears from sight again, likely back into the kitchen. Even though it was only a small gesture, there was some semblance of hope that returned to him. Perhaps he wasn't Claus (not yet, anyway) but he was human (to some extent).
