ABSENTMINDED AUTHOR NOTES:
Nothing much to say here... ^^ You're almost at the end, people! (No you're not. The epilogue is in three pieces, and there's still the counterpoint...)

WARNINGS:
Continuing pro-Leena. Hints of shounen ai. Looooong. Not quite normal universe, but not an alternate universe. Stuff I made up. Yeah.


SEDIMENTARY PERCUSSION
CHAPTER 3: Point
by Kay Willow

As one might expect, Gareas heartily enjoyed himself for the next week. He was, of course, immensely concerned about his future. But he was also a teenaged boy, and as such quite naturally enthusiastic about any opportunity to justify casual sex on a daily basis.

It wasn't an easy thing to pull off. GOA was primarily a military academy, after all, and sexual relations were frowned upon. Ordinarily, this wouldn't have stopped nearly as many people as it did... but GOA was ALSO a densely-populated space station. Privacy was at a premium when three thousand people were crammed onto a single satellite, as many as three to a room; cameras monitored nearly everywhere, and there was constant activity in even the most unimportant of areas. There was no sanctuary for a would-be amorous couple; GOA, as a whole, was simply public domain.

Then, even if a Candidate DID succeed in finding a place that would serve... Well, ancestors help him if he chose the wrong person to be with. If that Repairer -- or other Candidate, for that matter -- mentioned to even one other person... and that one other person notified only TWO other people... Before long it was public knowledge. He might not have a promiscuous reputation, but it wasn't his reputation that he needed to worry about. Instructors had been known to deal out punishments even on rumors, and it was worth a Candidate's rank AND a week in solitary confinement if it was confirmed.

Garu had it easy. The top ten ranking Candidates were given private rooms in recognition of their skill, so privacy was covered. Leena was his Repairer, and "bonding" between Pilot and Repairer was encouraged in GOA; it was not unknown for pairs to sleep in the same bed, although in the lower ranks this contact was strictly monitored. Bonding was encouraged -- mating was not.

Even so, primarily the administration allowed it because they knew what Gareas was trying to do. If this worked, they most likely reasoned, he would be a Pilot soon enough, and this sort of behavior wasn't regulated for Pilots. If it didn't work... then maybe being allowed to have consolation sex would keep him from doing something reckless, like killing himself -- or worse -- the administration.

But Garu's luck was looking up.

It was working. For six nights, he'd slept well and deeply, the whole night through without disturbance. Leena had been a warm, solid presence at his back the whole time, as satiated and dead to the world as he'd been. He suspected that merely having someone slumbering beside him was as helpful as the boneless exhaustion after climax. The sex was nice, and certainly his lassitude afterwards was a considerable benefit for someone his situation, but he felt as though there was something soothing about simply being with another person. He'd first noticed that he found it easier to relax quite a while back, when he'd been in solitary confinement and nearly wound up hysterical before Ernest had for the first time reached out and touched his mind and reassured him that he wasn't alone.

Whatever the cause... he was sleeping.

"I think the admin are changing their minds," Garu said gleefully, throwing himself down onto the bench next to Ernest on the seventh morning. The blond boy looked up from his breakfast, more surprised than he should've been -- Slacker, was he not paying attention? If he isn't alert, Azuma will gut him and hang him out to dry.> -- as Leena slid in across from them.

Ernest blinked. "About... Oh! Your insomnia! It's gone?" He glanced at Leena self-consciously.

She grinned at the younger boy conspiratorially and whispered loudly, "I'm half convinced he made it up just so he could get laid."

"Hey!"

Ernest smiled back at her, mischief visibly brightening his whole demeanor. "I wouldn't put it past him," he returned in the same tone, leaning across the table so that it seemed all the more secretive. "After all, isn't he the one who ran around telling me that every healthy male our age should be having sex? He probably felt like his manhood was suffering without it..."

"Okay, that's enough about my manhood, thanks," Garu inserted dryly. He felt great. Just last week he would've been snapping defensively at their good-natured joking, but today it was as if all his problems had evaporated. He was more than great, he was perfect!

"Are you absolutely sure?" Leena teased.

"Why not? He's secure in his manliness. He's got enough testosterone for six normal Candidates," Ernest told her with amusement.

Garu kicked Ernest's foot under the table and resumed his train of thought. "My insomnia is GONE, and I'm feeling GREAT, and today the Instructors were beaming at me during rhythm practice, so I think I'm going to get approved soon!"

"That's so wonderful, Gareas," his friend told him warmly. "I couldn't be happier for you."

Only half-hearing him, Garu continued enthusiastically, "When I go in for my morning report tomorrow, it'll be a full week. A full week!" Then he paused. "Ernest, what's wrong with you? You look sick."

Ernest was not, in fact, looking well. He seemed worn and haggard somehow; his uniform hung on him loosely and his hair was rumpled and had been tied back into a loose ponytail -- a habit Garu knew he only indulged in when he was either working too hard or stressing too much. It had become a visual sign for Gareas to recognize when Ernest needed a helping hand to get back on track.

It must've been a subconscious thing, because Ernest never appeared to realize that he was constantly putting his hair back when he was in a bad state; he was unfailingly stunned by Garu's seeming insight. Garu had never enlightened him. He rather liked it when Ernest got tongue-tied and surprised; the shorter boy was usually so level and calm that it was practically an achievement to catch him off-guard.

Once he'd finished gaping at Garu's patently insincere sagacious expression, Ernest glanced down at his breakfast, a faint hint of red on his cheekbones. "To tell you the truth, I think I must've caught your insomnia." He laughed faintly.

"Liar," Garu said flatly. "What's keeping you up?"

Ernest shrugged, collected again. "Erts... My little brother has been reaching out to me in the night. He's very... frightened lately. I think they're talking about starting him as a Candidate."

Gareas paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, wracking his brain for what little he knew of Ernest's brother. Ernest didn't talk about him much, but then, Ernest was a very private person, and he tended to keep to himself about things that were special to him, as if afraid that fate would steal away everything he loved. Once he'd found the appropriate memory, he did a quick mental addition and blinked. "He's only thirteen," he protested. "They're not allowed to take on boys as Candidates until they're at fourteen -- at the very least."

"They're trying to get a special dispensation for Erts," the other boy said, apparently not appreciating Garu's TRUE observational skills. "He performs with the Cueval flawlessly... they really want to get him a Repairer and a Pro-Ing of his own so that they can put him on the battlefield..." Ernest frowned. "Erts isn't ready for that. If he goes into a fight against the Victim without knowing what he's in for, then he could get hurt..."

"The same goes for every Candidate," Leena pointed out.

"No, I mean, because of his EX," he told her, distraught. "We're both telepathists, but we have our own specialties. I'm very good at dealing with emotions, but I have a hard time with strict telepathy. But Erts is very talented with his telepathy -- it's his empathy he can't control. Instead of sorting and managing the emotions that come to him, he just reels along with them. They HURT him, Leena, and if GOA asks him to read the Victim for them..."

Leena looked almost sick. "But you've never shown any adverse side-effects from the contact," she said unhappily. "Why should--"

Ernest sighed and repeated, "Erts can't control his empathy. At all. Even I don't have a mastery over it, but I can at least tone it down and block out the excess. Erts can't. Empathy isn't natural with him. If he deliberately reached out to the Victim..."

"He wouldn't be able to block out the painful parts, right?" Garu speared a stalk of something crispy that might've been a carrot -- or maybe celery -- with grim determination.

"Yes."

"And he's afraid of that?"

Leena switched her blue energy drink for Ernest's half-empty green one while he wasn't looking, then scolded, "Of course he is. The poor thing; wouldn't YOU be afraid, if you were stuck feeling everything one of those horrible Victim felt while a squadron of Pro-Ings and five Goddesses bludgeoned it to death?"

"I couldn't POSSIBLY be in that situation, but I suppose you have a point anyway," Garu replied glibly. "And is that what's keeping you up night?"

Ernest nodded wordlessly, looking flushed again. Maybe he has a fever?> Garu wondered, concerned. He'd better hope not; Dr. Rill would amputate his head if she thought it would cure him.>

Pushing that worry aside, Garu made a face at him. "Your little brother better not mar my promotion by having a nervous breakdown."

Laughing, Ernest was about to answer in kind when he noticed that his energy drink had spontaneously changed color and regenerated half its volume. Leena sat innocently across from him and took another modest sip from the green energy drink. He leveled her with a mournful look. "You took my drink," he complained, only barely managing to hide the thread of amusement in his voice.

Leena fluttered her eyelashes and drew circles on the table with her finger. "I like the green better," she wheedled back.

Ernest continued to gaze at the drink with heartbreaking wistfulness. Garu nearly choked on his own energy drink, snickering hysterically and trying his best to keep out of their way. Ernest plays his trump card!> he thought, and was wracked by another paroxysm of silent laughter.

Dimly, he heard Ernest say, "You do not. You only wanted it because it was almost empty."

Leena slammed the drink down on the table, spilling most of it, and jumped to her feet so she could run around the table and hug Ernest. "Puppy-dog eyes!" she trilled as the breath whooshed out of her prey. "I just can't resist when you do those puppy-dog eyes!"

"My drink," Ernest mourned when she loosened her grip enough to let him speak. "I worked so hard to force that stuff down..."

Garu casually picked up the blue drink and dumped the entire thing onto the floor. They blinked at him. Silence fell across the cafeteria. Then Chef's voice suddenly raised in an outraged roar from the counter, and his friends winced from the sound and glared at him. He said brightly, "So nobody has to drink it!"


The next morning, he went to see Dr. Rill, as he had every morning since undertaking the quest for his own 'cure': standard GOA policy for self-treatment.

"Well?" she asked, running a basic physical while she worked. "How did it go last night?"

"Horrible," he answered dully, staring at the ceiling without seeing it, wishing he could so easily dismiss her sudden start and sad expression. "I didn't sleep a wink."

There'd been a drill. Instructor Nerala had summoned all the Repairers to the maintenance bay for a surprise inspection of their emergency training; Leena had worked all through the night and stood on ceremony for longer while Nerala gave them their evaluations, and had simply returned to her own room with the others and collapsed when they were finished, in the small hours of the morning.

Garu wished she'd came to his room instead. He'd been awake anyway.

Without the warmth of another person near him, his peace of mind had fled. Without the languor that followed sex, he found himself unable to sink into rest. His insomnia had returned with a vengeance, and he had not slept for a single minute, not the whole night long.

It was only a temporary solution, like all the others. The minute he came back badly wounded, and he was unable to perform sexually even assuming that Leena wasn't preoccupied with fixing his Ingrid, he would be useless to his fellow Pilots. Even if they were willing to put up with the inconvenience, it wouldn't be a mere inconvenience if Zion was destroyed for his lack of sleep.

It's not fair. It's JUST not fair.> Gareas leaned back as Dr. Rill indicated, noticing the thoughtful look on her face. Today should've been the day. I would've been officially pronounced cured and gotten my promotion and I'd be Piloting Sarne Mollan's Nera Varias from tomorrow on. Except she'd be MINE.>

Dr. Rill commented, "Nothing wrong with you physically. The problem appears to be in here." She tapped his forehead with one sharp nail, and he hissed. "As with so many other of your problems," she added tartly.

"I hardly need the sarcasm," Garu snapped at her. "I'm sure I'll be the laughingstock of the Academy once I'm passed up for promotion!"

"You still have a chance."

He blinked. "But... how much longer can they use Sarne if his EX is exhausted? How much longer can they afford to just WAIT for me--?"

"Tomorrow," Dr. Rill said coldly. "Next week the Victim swarm's migration is predicted to return to full intensity. The new Pilot must be in tune with his Goddess by that time. A golden opportunity has been gone. Sarne was piloting with fair accuracy for a while, but earlier this morning he completely failed to establish a link with NOAH Z-M-N-V, and we all know perfectly well that it had nothing to do with her. You have one more night to prove yourself before someone else moves up in your place."

"And how am I going to do THAT?" he demanded.

"By sleeping well tonight." Dr. Rill picked up her stethoscope and arched an eyebrow pointedly. "Alone."


That afternoon, Gareas went looking for Ernest.

He and Dr. Rill had talked straight through breakfast, and he'd gotten permission to have a "brunch" with her help, although in so doing he'd forfeited his right to have a normal lunch with the others. Ernest's group met for odd hours; Garu knew that the other boy often had the entire afternoon free. So Gareas, fed up with GOA in general and himself in particular, skipped his own session with Instructor Azuma, uncaring how much trouble he got in later with the admin and his own group.

A quick drilling of Ernest's terrified roommate assured him that Ernest had gone out for one of his most common extracurricular activities: wasting time in the relaxation room. This told him a lot more than it apparently told his roommate -- while the other boy thought that Ernest went to the relaxation room when he wanted to be by himself, Garu knew better. The reason Ernest's visits there had been so frequent in the past had been because he was LONELY; he'd always wanted someone to reach out and make him normal, even before he knew what normal meant. Now that he had friends, the only reason he went to the relaxation room was when he was desperately bored and hoped that somebody would come along with something interesting for him to do.

Going from the hallway to the relaxation room was an experience, as always; a planet simply seemed to EXPLODE into life around him, and suddenly there was fresh air! And grass and trees and herbs and all sorts of living things, even a few animals... Algae-rich green ponds and clear blue skies and fluffy white clouds, nothing but nature as far as the eye could see, with a mock horizon in the distance across the chamber and even a synthetic "sun"... It was as if this was the real world, and the gray enclosed space station before it had been only a tinny dream.

Gareas loved the relaxation room, although he didn't spend much time there. Too many rules – don't pick the grass, don't step on anything that WASN'T grass, don't climb the trees, don't touch the animals, don't FEED the animals, don't go near the water with anything less natural than your own physical body and a GOA standard-admission swimsuit… But the wind chased away all his hesitations, and he always enjoyed himself despite the limitations.

He spotted Ernest fairly quickly, even in the vastness of the relaxation room; his friend had changed out of his Candidate uniform, and he was the only person in the entire spring-simulated chamber wearing thick pants and a long-sleeved turtleneck shirt.

Telepathists are always very careful to leave as little skin showing as possible, aren't they? Minimizes the possibility of skin-to-skin contact, nonsense like that....> Gareas hurried forward, temporarily having forgotten why he'd come and thinking mischievous thoughts about throwing Ernest into the pond. Ha, I'd like to see him walk around in two layers of SOAKING WET woolen clothing!>

But as he approached, he gradually slowed, until finally he stood over his friend with resigned amusement.

Ernest was sleeping.

It figures.>

He was stretched out and perfectly at ease in the planetary setting, dozing gently while the breeze tugged at his hair and the folds of his clothes. He didn't have a care in the world, not in this place; he was just somebody else there to absorb the atmosphere.

Garu didn't have the heart to wake him up and whine at him. Ernest had his own life and his own problems -- his EX, his little brother, his training -- and Gareas certainly wasn't going to come at him in his moment of rest and force him to take on new burdens.

"You ungrateful brat," he muttered at the slumbering form. "Here I am, my life over because I can't sleep, and here you are, throwing my inability in my face."

At that moment Ernest shifted, and Garu took a step back, feeling guilty already. But Ernest only rolled onto his side and adjusted himself to be more comfortable, then returned to his dreams.

After a long second, Garu snorted and sank down to the grass. Carefully, he shifted next to Ernest and just laid back, suddenly tired beyond measure. It would be very nice,> he thought wearily, closing his eyes and taking in the serenity all around him, if I could only get some sleep...>

When he opened his eyes next, the relaxation room had given up all pretense at daylight; reds and oranges streaked the setting, and several dozen people had gathered by the pond, watching the "sun" setting across the "mountains". Ernest was sitting up, arms hugging his knees to his chest, staring at the phenomenon, entranced, as though he might never have the chance to see it again.

Garu stretched, working out a crick in his back, no less than amazed at himself. He'd been soundly asleep for three, maybe four hours. It really must be the contact,> he concluded, shaking his head. I can sleep like a baby next to somebody I trust. That's great to know… except that it's useless unless I take a lover among the Pilots.>

Ernest turned slowly from the illusory show and smiled at his awakening companion, then threw himself back onto the ground next to him and rested his head on his folded arms. "This was nice," he said, voice muffled by his shirt. "I can't recall a better-spent afternoon."

In spite of himself, Garu grinned. "Believe it or not, I didn't come here so we could snuggle."

His response was a startled, frozen look, and then Ernest moved his head slightly so that he wasn't looking at his green-haired friend. "I didn't mean it like that," he said neutrally.

Garu clapped him on the shoulder, once again ignoring the automatic spasming of tense muscles under his hand. "Don't get all apologetic," he ordered cheerily. "Because I'm the one who's come to beg YOUR forgiveness, after all."

Instantly, Ernest shied back and was on his knees in alarm, staring. "What?" Between his incredulous expression, raised eyebrows, and downright disbelieving tone, Garu had gotten him again.

Then it was time to get serious. No longer even remotely sleepy, Garu straightened and said simply, "It didn't work after all."

"Wha..."

"Leena couldn't be with me last night. And I couldn't sleep. At all. Not for a moment."

Ernest looked heartbroken. Gareas wasn't sure if he wanted to cry for what he was losing, or just embrace his best friend for being such a wonderful caring person in the midst of his quandary. He opted for continuing and praying that he was right.

"I've got one more night," he said, his voice shaking a little. "If I can get to sleep without needing someone with me, then I've proven that my insomnia is controllable and last night was just a fluke. And I know… and I know that it WASN'T, but I need to do SOMETHING, and…" Gareas curled his hands into fists unconsciously, then added firmly, "You said you thought you knew something I could do to cure this, didn't you? Something about EX. What was it?"

The blond boy appeared to have relapsed into his previous state of shock. He shook himself and said slowly, "Garu..."

And he smiled. Warmly and hopefully. Garu could feel his body sag with relief at the sight; whatever this was, Ernest was certain of it. "This WILL work," Ernest said, confirming his thoughts. "I promise you that I can help you--"

"CANDIDATE #39!!"

Both boys jerked around reflexively, not to mention else everyone within hearing. Instructor Kyu stood in the doorway, ridiculous antiquated military fatigues stained blood-red by the mock sunset. He glared holes in Ernest's head as the blond belatedly scrambled to his feet and saluted.

"What is the meaning of this, #39?" he snarled. "Not in uniform, not in class, your Repairer nearly hysterical with worry... and you're HERE, in the RELAXATION ROOM, with THIS FAILURE?"

Gareas stiffened with rage and snarled wordlessly at the deadly insult. NOBODY said something like that about him -- especially not if it was true.

"He's not a failure, sir," Ernest cut in staunchly, tripping Garu neatly with one outstretched foot. Garu caught himself before falling, but when he turned to Ernest he saw only confidence in that warm blue gaze. "He's already got his insomnia beat."

"That's not what I heard." Kyu sneered at the pair, then turned his back on them. "If you're not in the war room in five minutes, dressed and ready for your turn, I'm penalizing you a rank."

"'War room'?" Gareas demanded at the retreating Instructor. "What sort of an asshole calls the Pro-Ing training arena a WAR ROOM?" But he demanded it under his breath.

Ernest sagged limply, visibly worn out by the brief confrontation. He was so much stronger than he'd been months ago that Garu sometimes forgot that he was still far from as confident as he seemed. "I'm never going to make it in five minutes," the shorter boy groaned, then fell into a sprint.

"Wa... Wait!" Gareas cried, following on his heels. "What about the cure?!"

"I'll tell you tonight!" Ernest tossed back over his shoulder. "Just open up when I call you, okay?"

Garu's feet dragged at the ground, and he stopped, watching his friend -- and his last hope -- vanish down the metallic corridor.


That night Gareas was frustrated, tense, unhappy, and desperately afraid. What could Ernest possibly intend that it wasn't already too late for? He couldn't be coming to the room because he didn't have the security clearance, so how was he going to contact Gareas? What if it didn't WORK, whatever it was, at this late point? What if the battle was lost tonight, too?

He couldn't even sit down.

At last, at what seemed like four in the morning but which was actually only eleven at night, he felt something odd brush at the back of his mind. A whispering, feather-light touch that felt somehow...

...like his name.

What a moron he was. Telepathist. How ELSE would Ernest make contact?

Ernest?> he thought deliberately, trying to make himself as accessible as possible.

::Garu?:: came the whisper-brush again. ::Good, you heard…::

First relief flooded through him, but close behind came urgency. Ernest, quickly! Tell me what your solution is so I can do something about it! It's only a half-hour before I get marked for low-grade insomnia-->

::This won't take half an hour,:: he felt Ernest respond, the sensation a bit faded from a moment ago. Ernest's unique brand of telepathy was actually more a mix of empathic projection techniques than actual words; the contact was a shivery sensation, like the feeling of someone breathing against wet flesh, and the vibrations sparked images that Gareas could never quite grasp before melting away, leaving the impression of a specific word. It was quite an Ernest thing to do: he'd taken his strengths and use them to overcome his weaknesses. ::But please calm down, Garu -- telepathic contact is hard for me, and I won't be able to maintain it if you get worked up.::

And wouldn't that just be the perfect ending to the perfect day? Gareas took a moment to regulate his breathing and force his muscles to release their tension. "So, tell me, then. What are we doing? How can I possibly be asleep in no more than thirty minutes?"

There was a long moment of hesitation, and for a panicked minute Garu feared that Ernest had forgotten what it was that he wanted to suggest in the intervening week.

::No, that's not it,:: he was reassured immediately as Ernest read the suspicion in his thoughts. ::It's just... you have to ask me first, Garu.::

What? But I just did-->

::It wasn't the right question. You have to ASK me, Garu.::

It was so totally unlike Ernest that Gareas realized what was going on almost immediately. Without his full awareness, they were about to dance on the edges of permissible behavior, on the verge of violating some important rule. Ernest wasn't the kind of person who charged to the aid of his friends without consideration for authority, but he most certainly was NOT the kind of person who played with his friends' emotions while they were in trouble.

"Ernest," he said out loud, clueing in. "Do you know of a way to help with my insomnia?"

A wispy, pleased flutter of thought reached him. ::Yes, Garu.::

Will you tell me what it is?>

::Yes, Garu. Of course I'll tell you, since you've asked.:: Then there was a warmer tone to the mental "voice", as of amusement, when that was followed up with, ::You great moron. My EX. My EX!::

Taken totally aback, Garu forced himself to sit down on the bed. "Your EX...?" he muttered to the room at large.

::There's a mental "trick" that I've developed,:: came the immediate reply. ::I can use my empathy to soothe your mind into sleep patterns. It counts as mental manipulation, so I'd be expelled if I use it without certain conditions... I can't mention it unless directly asked, and I can't use it unless directly asked, and even then only with permission from an administrator.::

Anger was smothered before it even had the chance to rise from the ashes of Gareas' earlier surprise. A telepathist's EX was incredibly dangerous under many circumstances, because without even realizing it he might be able to reach out and affect the decisions and feelings of the people around him; as a result, he must be intensely trained, monitored, and regulated. If caught doing something subconsciously, the punishment was twenty points deducted and a drop of ten full ranks. Getting caught doing something purposefully could result in immediate expulsion.

Ernest followed his thought process silently, then inserted, ::You can see, I think, why I couldn't push the issue. I promised myself that if you didn't ask for my knowledge by your last available day, I would say something anyway, but--::

"You RETARD! You could've been EXPELLED!" Garu shouted. He threw himself back on the bed, disgusted with Ernest and the rules and himself for being so obtuse. "You've got nothing BUT the Academy; you were going to put your ENTIRE WAY OF LIFE at risk because I'M IMPATIENT. You know, Ernest, even if I DO get passed up for this promotion, another Pilot WILL wear out of get knocked off sooner or later and I'll be right back in the game! I'm at no real risk here! YOU, on the other hand--"

::Garu:: ::I can't::

Then the contact was gone, and Garu smacked himself in the forehead. He kept forgetting Ernest's trouble with consistent telepathy.

He resolved to wait patiently until Ernest gathered up the willpower to try the contact again, using every ounce of strength he had not to keep glancing at the clock and panicking. He contented himself with changing into his sleepclothes and climbing into bed, so he could maybe fool himself that progress was being made. In his head, he practiced what he was going to say to Ernest to talk him out of helping.

Lying to him won't work, not while he's inside my head, so no sudden development of narcolepsy. I could tell him I don't want his help, or that I don't want anyone fucking around inside my brain... if I wanted to deal with him getting all timid and self-loathing for the next few weeks, bleeding-heart sentimentalist that he is. Aha! I could remind him that if he's kicked out, his brother will be all alone!>

::Garu?::

"I'm here," he said aloud, and opened his mind again. This time there was a distinct sensation of Ernest settling into the space he left open; a strange and foreign entity that at the same time fit in like a missing piece.

::As I was going to say before you threw your tantrum,:: whispered slyly across his consciousness, the images that the words came from not as colorful, but still sharply-defined and confident. ::I already HAVE the approval of an administrator.::

Garu blinked. "You... What... Who...?"

::Dr. Rill, of course,:: was the somewhat smug answer. ::Wasn't she the one who told you to come looking for me today?::

He'd totally forgotten about that. It had been a comment she'd said in frustration -– 'Get out of here! I don't know what to do about your situation, you wretched little punk! Why don't you go talk to Ernest, who has the patience of a saint to put up with you?' -– and he honestly hadn't thought about it twice.

::I approached her about it last week, right after you decided that daily sex would solve your problems.:: Still, the light-hearted teasing. ::She knows I can do it, and well, because I do it for Erts all the time...::

"Why didn't SHE say anything about this?" Gareas wanted to know. He scowled at the ceiling. "Why didn't ANYBODY in Med Bay?"

A pause, and then, ::Because unless a telepathist Candidate is working in Med Bay for some spare credits -– and that's very unlikely, considering the nature of the work there -– there has to be a volunteer before they can offer the service. And they... they didn't think I'd volunteer. They didn't think you were such... a close friend of mine.::

Garu refused to react to that comment, but promised himself that the drug-happy nurses would be sorry for whatever their total absence of tact had induced them to say to get Ernest so embarrassed.

::Leave them alone, Garu.:: A fleeting, delicate touch swept over the surface of his mind, like a caress. ::Saa. Shall I help you, then?::

The mattress was stiff and uncomfortable and made him feel like he was sleeping on an ironing board; the pillow was not nearly full enough and it was giving him a crick in his neck; he was nowhere near tired. If Ernest could make him sleep in this condition...

::Stop worrying, Garu, and ask me already.::

It was strange. With that one statement, thousands of images and ideas and colors flared to life behind his eyelids, appearing and vanishing again much faster than he could follow. Garu almost didn't understand the simple sentence that was molded from the deluge of connections; how could they possibly mean something so innocent when they felt like so much?

But Garu had long ago given up on understanding all the different levels that comprised Ernest. "You know," he said to the air, "I'm..." But he couldn't say it. "I want you to know that I'm..." He struggled with himself for a long moment, then gave up.

Why do these words have to be so hard for me to say?> he groused internally. Ernest. I want you to know that I'm sorry.>

::You're sorry?:: The image-words were colored with amusement. ::Oh, Garu, you have nothing to be sorry for.::

He insisted, No, I do.> Apologies might stick in his throat, but they poured out in his thoughts without reservations. For being such a jerk, and for not listening when you talked, and for walking all over you, and for burdening you with my problems and expecting you to help me but not LETTING you help me and now at the last minute...>

::Oh, Garu.:: It might only have been an echo. Ernest's presence seemed to glow when it reached out to him again. ::This is no sacrifice, Garu. I would do anything for you, you know that. Even if you are a jerk, I'll always be here with you.::

Gareas closed his eyes and sighed. Then... help me?>

And suddenly, all at once, his consciousness shifted. It was among the most bizarre things he'd ever experienced, as if everything in the universe except Garu himself had just randomly jumped three inches to the left. When he might have opened his eyes in alarm, there was another shift, this one gentler; it made him think of a concerned mother checking her child's temperature and smoothing back his hair in one loving motion. It was very peaceful...

Then another shift, and all the tension drained from his body, and just lying down felt wonderful; by the time the next one washed over him, he was asleep.


If there are errors, problems, or inconsistencies in this part, it's because I wasn't interested enough to give it one last read before sending it out. ^^ My beta-readers were being kinda sloppy, I think...

Nobody's mine... They're all Yukiru Sugisaki's... For now... >D

--Kay Willow
AIM: Savinsilk
Email: kay_willow@hotmail.com
Quote: can't be bothered