collateraldamaging | kazu 2.0 au

Retaking the Anvil? If not for that detail, Kazu would think he was captured and the team only just got him back, but. The Anvil has been lost for months and there were no plans to take it back. Not that he knows of, anyway. Or...

"Why don't I remember this?"

And why can't he wake up? Not that he's tried again, yet, wanting to hear what Val had to say first.

"Because this version of you did not live it. Kazu—" Val's voice cracks, slightly. He's not sure if it's because he can still see it in his minds eye—Kazu laying there on the ground, hydraulic fluid like a pool of blood beneath him, gaping hole in his chest—or because he's still not sure, even now, how Kazu will take this.

This was not a simple decision. He is hoping it was not a wholly selfish one.

"Kazu, the Nemesis drove its arm through your chest. It knew exactly where to aim to destroy the brain housing, like we have done to them a thousand times."

For a long moment there's only silence between them as Kazu processes this. He was killed in action. But he's still here, just--

Oh.

The understanding comes in a heavy rush, like a wave crashing down. It explains everything. Val's distress, why he doesn't remember any of this happening, why he's in the Hub instead of his body. He'll probably never return to it, he thinks. But that isn't the most upsetting part.

"I am a copy."

His voice is hollow and flat. He still feels like himself. But is he? Can you copy a soul along with a mind? This must be what Chase went through, finding out he wasn't the original, but while Kazu would be quick to reassure the other man that he was himself... he didn't know if that applied to him. How long ago was this version of himself created? The original Kazu, was he different?

It feels like he can't breathe, even though he doesn't need to. Val's hand is still tight on his arm and Kazu focuses on that, on something that feels real because he doesn't anymore. And he thinks they made a good choice, sending Val to break this to him. Anyone else and he might have exploded on them, a different aspect of the tangle of emotions coming out. Marin had no right to copy them. Especially after what happened to Chase. But it was done. He existed. And with just Val here, it isn't the anger that manifests first.

"Am I still me?"

The hollowness of his voice makes something in Val's chest pang horribly, and he wonders if he truly has made a mistake. If he was wrong to finally break the stalemate in their arguments to say yes, yes of course they should take this chance, let some good come of Marin's violation.

He remembers all too well what Kazu had said about what he would do, if there were copies out there of him. He simply told himself that this was different, that a single copy to bring him back to them was not the same as an endless flood of them.

He wonders if, had Kazu been able to recall that conversation, he would feel betrayed, now.

But it's the question that almost breaks something in him and suddenly Val can't take the distance between them anymore—what good is a measly hand on his arm to offer comfort in a time like this? Val steps forward and draws Kazu into a tight embrace, one hand cupped around the back of his head.

"Of course you are still you, Kazu."

Val steps forward to hold him and Kazu loses what little composure he was managing to hold on to, his arms coming up to cling to his friend. And apparently they can cry in the Hub, because he feels them welling in his eyes. He lets out a shuddering breath and bends his head down, letting Val comfort him. It's a blatant weakness that he wouldn't want to show with anyone else, but he's with Val.

The reassurance helps a bit. He's still processing, still needs time, but if he's the only Kazu out there... he isn't about to ask them to kill him again. He wants to be with them, even if he's a hologram like Chase. But that's a whole other knot of complex emotions to unravel. One thing at a time.

"When was I made? What else don't I remember?"

Val can't help but comb his fingers soothingly through Kazu's hair, hushing gently as he lets Kazu cling as tightly as he needs to. It's all he can do not to start crying, too. There was a time he thought he would never be able to hold Kazu again, and even with Kazu there in front of him it had felt like such a fragile thing until the moment he wrapped his arms around him, in turn.

"It has been several weeks, now. After we lost the canyon, the Union attacked Los Angeles and that is when we believe Marin stopped updating the copies." Of course the story behind that is complicated, to say the least, and not something he wants to throw Kazu in at the deep end of. Let him adjust, first. "We begun to reclaim ground, and there have been many revelations. Just as there have been many arguments with the others, as I'm sure comes as no surprise. But we received some leave, in Las Vegas, and we spent the night drinking together. You had... quite the hangover, the next day."

There's more, of course there's more, that's only the broad strokes at best. But he doesn't want to overwhelm him all at once. He can't begin to imagine what this feels like, to have whole pieces of your life missing because it technically never happened to you.

Kazu just leans against Val and holds on as he listens... that they're reclaiming ground is a surprise, but a night in Vegas with Val sounds fun. He's sorry he missed it, which is a bizarre thing to say. He was there. A different him. Or a continuation of him. He isn't sure how he wants to think of it yet.

"I'm out of practice," he defends his other self's hangover. They don't get to drink in their bodies often... and he may never again.

He doesn't want to think about that either. What he does want is to catch up as much as is possible. It might not make him feel better, but he doesn't want that gap to be there. He doesn't want to be different from himself in that way. When he speaks again his voice is soft and hesitant.

"Can you show me? What I missed."

"Of course. My memories can no doubt explain better than words ever could." Val withdraws the hand cupped around the back of his head so that it can move to take Kazu's, instead, grazing past Kazu's cheek on the way. Though he hesitates, for a moment, hand at Kazu's wrist.

Should he tell him first, or just let him see?

His brow furrows, but he takes Kazu's hand. "We had an important talk, once your hangover passed. It... brought us much closer together."

Much, much closer. Squeezing that hand, Val closes his eyes and lets the memories flow over to Kazu. He tries not to linger too long on the arguments, on the battles, on Marin pushing them into inaction, tries to give Kazu enough to fill those gaps without dwelling. He focuses more on the other things, on Kazu's avatar problems and attitude towards Val in the midst of it, on the night in Vegas drinking far too much with a promise of a much needed talk the next day.

On the talk itself. On sitting there in Kazu's personal space, coaxing him into admitting that fear of vulnerability that had worked its way so deep into his psyche that his subconscious had begun to reflect it through his avatar. On sharing their memories of their childhoods. On Kazu's comfort, the hand on Val's cheek and...

His grip on Kazu's hand tightens.

The link opens, warm and familiar, and Kazu lets himself fall into it as easily as he leaned into Val. Mind open, paying close attention to every detail of what the original him did. Trying to figure out what he was feeling in that moment. The images and emotions flow from one to the next, and by nature of being Val's memory there's a lot of them alone together. Which isn't surprising, they've been spending more and more time together the past few months. But this last conversation, the one after the hangover, is intense. And since they were mindsharing in the memory he can feel what he was feeling too.

Then Val's grip tightens, and... oh.

That sure happened. And they were linked the whole time, so when the scene fades out and he's just in the Hub holding Val it's even more like that was his memory than usual.

Kazu isn't sure what he's feeling at first. It's almost like... loss, that he wasn't actually there for that. But now it's like he was, isn't it? He lifts his head to meet Val's gaze, still holding his hand tight, leaving the mindshare open. They have nothing to hide from one another. He isn't afraid of Val feeling his uncertainties, his worry that the person he is might be lesser somehow. There's his sympathy leaking through that Val lost him after they had become so close, and gratitude that he'd share it now. It's hard to put any of that into words, and after a moment his eyes close again as he leans forward to press their foreheads together gently.

Maybe he doesn't have to be exactly the same. Maybe he can just be himself, and that's enough.

"Thank you."

Val leans into the contact, lacing their fingers and squeezing tight. He can't hide that bone-deep sense of grief, how much it had hurt to finally take that next step only to find himself kneeling alongside Kazu's body barely even hours later. He had been so close to leaving, in the aftermath; the hole Kazu left was too stark to bear and he wanted to drown his sorrows until it was impossible to think too hard about any of it, anymore.

But he stayed, for Yaz and for Chase and because he knew Kazu would not want him to fall so far. He stayed, and there is relief that he did because Kazu is here, now. They're standing here hand in hand and forehead to forehead, together. Against all odds, they're together.

"All that matters is that it's you," he says, every word affirmed by the feelings that accompany it. It doesn't matter to him which version of himself he is, Kazu is Kazu. "I have missed you in ways I cannot even begin to describe. There is no part of you that can ever be lesser to me."

A few lost weeks can never destroy what is months upon months of growing together, a little closer with every day.

Despite the grief, the reassurance comes through clearly. Kazu has tears welling up again, but they're relief this time. And for all the complexities of it... he's glad in this moment that they brought him back. So they can be together. They're good together. Val's made him a better person, and certainly a happier one amidst it all... even if he doesn't fully understand what the other man sees in him he can feel it, real and almost overwhelming.

"I've loved you since before that," he confirms softly, something he's never put into words before. It isn't so scary now. "I'm sorry I was gone... can we pick up where we left off?"

For what feels like the first time in an age, Val smiles. It's a soft, loving thing and he fits the hand not laced with Kazu's to his jaw, tilts his head so that their noses brush together.

Love. Yes, he loves Kazu and he's felt that love returned. Yet hearing it aloud, being put into words, is still something special.

"There is nothing I want more than to do just that." He runs his thumb back and forth, stubble against the pad. "Don't be sorry. You are here now. Without you, it would have been Yaz, and you would not be you, the man I love, if you were not the kind of person who was there to save her."

Kazu leans into the touch, nuzzling gently as Val speaks. He does regret that he may never know if Val's skin is actually as soft as it feels here, if his warmth radiates the same way, but even that's just a stray thought in the back of his mind. The rest of him is focused on being with Val -- at least until he hears he saved Yaz.

"Everyone else is alright?"

Will it be strange for them, seeing him again knowing he's a copy? Or will they just be as glad as Val that he wasn't lost forever?

"They are right now. As alright as any of us can be. Yaz took losing someone hard, as did Cammie." There's an unwitting flash of a tangled mess of annoyance, worry and relief as he mentions Cammie's name, in particular. "There have been... many discussions, leading up to today. Chase felt that this was not our choice to make."

He understands it, he listened to Chase's perspective, but in the end he simply couldn't just stand by and let Kazu stay dead when there was an alternative. Chase did not take that so well, but whatever hesitance Val had left has faded now that he has Kazu back. There are things to contend with, yes, but he can't imagine making another choice, right now.

Edited 2021-11-28 04:22 (UTC)

It's a complicated thing, and he'll probably be struggling with his identity and new existence for quite some time... but this isn't the same as Chase. Who knows what the Unity did to his mind, to warp it into the Nemesii? And again, even though his original self wouldn't want there to be a copy in the first place Kazu isn't about to tell them to destroy him now.

"I don't think I'm ready to see them just yet." He's not ready to mix into the real world, either, where he knows his body is probably lying in a tube somewhere. Where he has to confront Marin about what she did. It's too much right now and he just wants to be in his own Hub, with Val. "Stay with me awhile?"

Soon enough he'll have to deal with either reality or loneliness, but with this being a fresh session they have time left.

“Always, Kazu. I’m not going anywhere until I have to, and the others will not interrupt.”

They may be left anxiously waiting, but they also know they’d get an alert from Val if something were wrong. Nothing’s wrong, nothing that isn’t expected to be, at least. They have the session all to themselves, and Val doesn’t intend to waste a second of his uptime anywhere but right there with Kazu.

“Come, let’s get out of the void and return to the comfort of your hub, yes?”

Kazu sighs with relief, nodding slightly against Val's forehead before pulling back and focusing. The hub appears easily and he squeezes Val's hand, stepping towards it. He wonders if it'll be any different, if his original self had changed anything, but stepping inside it looks the same. Familiar and comforting, and there are even a few stray bunnies still hopping around. He smiles slightly and leads Val up to the loft where the bed is -- a largely unnecessary addition since they can't sleep in the hub, but he'd enjoyed decorating something that felt more like a complete home. And now it's going to be more comfortable to lie with Val.

"It feels safe to be with you," he admits softly as he settles, cuddling into Val's arms. It's a position he never would have put himself in even a few months before, but with Val and the memory of their last conversation it feels okay to be vulnerable. To admit that he needs the comfort and support. And Val's always been so steady and patient with him -- there's nothing to hide and nothing to fear. Not here.

Val follows Kazu without question, some lingering tension falling away just to see Kazu walking through his own space again. It had felt so wrong, to see it empty, and yet, even before they knew they may be able to bring him back, erasing it had never been an option. Not for a second.

He has never been more grateful for the upgrades that made these spaces possible, the relative normality that it allows them to achieve. That he can settle in a comfortable bed with his arms around Kazu, nuzzling his face against the top of Kazu's head, is a blessing he will never take for granted, now. The Hub has always been convenient, but now it is something much more.

"I am glad," he says, quiet and warm, though the words don't really adequately convey the depths of that. That Kazu has placed the trust in him that he has means more than it is easy to put into simple terms. "Never be afraid to talk to me, or call on me. I will never be far."

The coming days and weeks and beyond will be hard, he has no doubt. To have to adjust to this new reality at all is tough enough, let alone to have to do so in the midst of everything else still raging on around them.

If he's honest with himself, Kazu isn't sure who he would be now if not for Val. If he'd even be alive in the first place, if his original self would have survived as long as he did. He doesn't know how to express his gratitude for that, for everything... for Val being Val.

But they can't stay here forever. The war isn't over, far from it. Maybe it's good that he doesn't remember dying, he might be too scared to keep fighting. He might be even now. But he can't hide. He can't let Val or the others go out there without him. They need to be together. The unfortunate part is that they're now even more reliant on Marin, who they obviously can't trust.

"What are we going to do, Val?"

"I do not know." He wishes he had something better to offer than that, but to lie and try to pretend he had any idea would do neither of them any favours. "I do not think any of us know. Since the Anvil, losing you and finding out what Marin has been doing behind our backs, things have been... uncertain."

The Union cannot be left to continue unimpeded, Val's conviction in that has never been shaken, no matter the lies behind what sent the war hot—he spent far too many years under the Union's thumb, seeing how they treat those who do not believe, to be so easily swayed. Yet, the things Marin has been doing, the way the ground they have reclaimed has been taken back...

"We are all shaken. After you died, Cammie ran away, to Union territory— scared us all half to death, that girl. Chase has only gotten worse, there is still much I do not believe he is telling us. Yaz has been turning the blame in on herself. We... we do not know. We only know that whatever it is we do, we must do it together."

Edited (addition) 2021-11-28 19:44 (UTC)

Kazu takes in the information about the team with a grim sort of understanding. Things are bad for everyone. But they're still together. They can still figure something out. There was a time when he felt like together they were invincible and obviously that wasn't true, but they're still stronger as a team. He'll adjust and rejoin them, and be strong for them too -- he won't let things fall apart.

Right now, though? He's focused on why Val left himself out of that summary. For awhile now, he's been everyone's rock. The mature one, the stable one, the one who knows who he is and how to help the others. Kazu's hand strokes over Val's back, wanting to be able to be there for him, too.

"And you?" he asks gently, tilting his head up and nudging Val's chin with his nose to get the other man to look at him. "You can tell me."

Val's embrace tightens, just enough to be noticeable. He closes his eyes, takes a breath through his nose, then looks at Kazu with a crease in his brow.

"I felt ready to run away in a way I haven't since the first Battle of the Anvil. You were gone, and I did not know how to help anyone. Everything was falling apart, and I did not know how to stop it." He's been doing his best to keep that from the others, because it will do no good for them to know how close even he came to falling apart completely. But this is Kazu, and he would be a hypocrite to hide from him. "I still do not. I do not know how to help when the things that plague us now are so difficult to reckon with."

Part of that is what Kazu expected -- Val had one foot out the door with them for quite awhile -- but hearing him sound so lost is a first. It's actually a little disconcerting in that if Val doesn't know how to help the others, what can he possibly do for them? He doesn't know yet either. But he knows he can support Val. And maybe together they'll be able to manage it.

He breathes out, expression softening, and slides his hand up to caress Val's cheek.

"You didn't run. I think that might be the bravest thing I've ever heard. I've never known anyone like you before, Val -- I know I'm not good at this, but you've made me better. And you don't have to fix everything alone. We can be scared together, and stand together."

He's so sorry he was gone, still. That Val was... no, is in so much pain and all he can really do to ease it is exist. But he won't just be another burden.

Val leans into that hand and a little of the tension that grew in him as he spoke falls away. He brings his hand up to the back of Kazu's and kisses the palm, focusing for a long moment on the contact and on what Kazu says.

There was a time in his life where it was easier to have connections that could be easily broken, where it seemed like a matter of common sense to keep a bag packed and be ready to run. It did not feel brave to sit there in the back of the Renegade, considering if it was time to fall back on old defenses, before finding he didn't have it in him. Some old, fading part of him had felt it to be a weakness, to not be able to leave so easily anymore, but that part of him doesn't hold a candle to Kazu's words.

"I have missed you so much..." it's said barely above a whisper, laced with thick relief and gratefulness. He may have helped Kazu change for the better, but it is not an entirely one-way street. GL, Kazu, have changed him too. "Thank you, darling. Yes. Yes we can. Together."

Kazu lets the touch linger, lets Val's words sink in. It wasn't so long ago that no one would have missed him like this. His parents would have grieved, yes, but he hadn't had regular contact with them for a long time. It was different. Everything with Val is different. He strokes his thumb over Val's lips with a soft smile.

"Darling, hm?" He leans closer, bumping their noses playfully. "I wish I could promise to never leave you again. I can promise to be by your side now."

It's not true anymore that he has nothing to lose, but he'll still give his all. Even though none of this is going to be easy to deal with, he'll manage. It's worth it, to be with the people he cares about. To be with Val.

This time he's the one to kiss Val first, tilting his head and pressing in that last inch.

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