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"You are sure you don't want to come?"
"It's not that I'm sure. It's that I'm not allowed." Brad's arms give Brian's waist a squeeze, head leaning to the side to rest against one he has settled around his neck. "Rules are rules, and I have work to do."
"Ah, rules!" The drow clicks his tongue, pulling a hand away to wave it dismissively. "What the Director won't know won't hurt her. I might need some assistance, and who better to have than a brave, handsome bard?" Brad gives a hum in response, lifting his head again.
"I could talk to the Director. We could even get a whole team together, if you want to be really safe." That makes Brian's ears tip down, lips pursing, glancing away at just the thought. Brad leans up with a chuckle to give him a quick kiss before he gets a chance to respond. "I'm kidding. I just really can't- and you'll be fine, right? You're tough." A hand goes to Brian's chest and he grins, puffing himself up some.
"Of course. It's the reclaimers who will have to do the hard part, anyway." The grin dies down as the elf leans in further, voice quieting. "And after I come back, we can talk about the wedding, and then..."
"You guys know I'm still here, right? I don't wanna rain on your parade or anything, but," Avi chiming up makes both their heads snap towards him, Brad taking a quarter-step away, "I mean, you're gonna have to go eventually?"
"But how could I bear to leave now?" Brian huffs and pulls him in close again, leaning down slightly to press his cheek to the top of his fiance's head before turning to kiss it. "How much longer do we have?" He asks into Brad's hair.
"Technically you've got all day, but let's say, I dunno, two minutes?"
"C'mon, Brian. This is important- you really need to go." Brad moves away just enough to make Brian lift his head back up, eyes looking away in thought. A dramatic sigh, and he shifts to press his bracer-wielding wrist to his forehead, keeping one arm around the orc's neck still.
"I suppose you are right! And the faster I leave, the faster I'll be back." Finally, reluctantly, he moves away, reaching instead to hold Brad's hands. The two of them lean in for a kiss, Brad's hand cupping Brian's cheek, and after just a moment longer, it breaks to let him go towards the cannon.
Brian gives one last grin just outside the entrance, holding his left hand up and wiggling his fingers in a wave that reminds Brad of how spiders walk. Very Brian. The gold of his engagement ring catches the light and it's the last thing he sees before Brian steps inside, door closing and cannon readying soon afterwards. He stays there until the orb carrying his fiance is fired towards the planet below, arcing north, and is eventually out of sight.
Some days to himself might be good. It'll give Brad time to clear his head, and then once Brian was back, they could talk more about the wedding. He's in high spirits when he leaves for his office, hands fiddling with his ring, thoughts on the future.
A week goes by. Brian will be back any day now, he knows, and tries not to worry too much. He's a competent, smart wizard who can think quickly and talk himself out of most situations. Brad stays positive, forcing himself to not think on how quiet his stone of farspeech has been.
Two weeks pass. Missions take time, a lot of people were normally gone for a lot longer. He should be thankful that it's only been two weeks. Joking about Brian vacationing on the bureau's time gets him a few uncomfortable laughs from the other seekers while they share worried glances he chooses to ignore. He'll be back soon.
Three weeks. People avoid him. Brad's brushed off when he brings up how long the drow's been gone, an awkward attempt at roundaboutly asking if there's been any updates on Brian or the relic. He tries a different approach; he goes straight to the Director and asks for anything- a message, a location, status report, whatever she can give. She shakes her head. It's more than what he had before, but about as comforting as the others' silence.
His thoughts start to fill with scenarios both good and bad. Sometimes missions really did stretch on for weeks, even months, especially for seekers. He could come back a little worse for wear physically but otherwise fine, empty-handed or with good news about the relic. Brian might even come back with the relic in-hand. He could be dead.
Maybe Brad should've seriously considered that offer to go with him. It's not like he hadn't before, though that was always just him sneaking out with Brian to check out leads that were definitely wild goose chases. Maybe he could have been useful this time around. Those thoughts are better than thinking of him just being dead somewhere, but either way they keep him up at night, interrupting his sleep and work and everything else. It's not healthy, he knows, but there's not a lot he can do. Not without answers.
He starts visiting the hangar. The excuse he tells himself is that it's nice to be able to look down and see the planet, and that he should really hang with Avi more. He's a nice enough guy, seemingly always happy to have Brad around, but their conversations eventually grow awkward and there's not much to talk about. They both know why the orc's really there, always glancing planet-side, searching for something. When he's particularly low in spirits, Avi offers him his flask. The first few times he politely declined, but eventually started taking single quick swigs. It was good, the warmth it brought comforting, and if Brad was honest, it was better than what he had stored away at home.
Purposefully going and talking to Avi eventually takes too much energy, even with the promise of alcohol and light conversation, so he focuses on work instead. The bureau's still moving along, still growing, with reports and tickets still being sent in that he can't just put off. As much as Brad loves his job, at the end of the day it's still mostly mindless filling out paperwork and scheduling appointments, things he can do on autopilot by now.
Still, it's something that keeps him busy. His thoughts are elsewhere when he works, focus centered in on getting something done. Today, when he's having an especially rough time, he barely pays attention to the world around him. So he hardly hears the click of his office door opening, doesn't register that someone's actually come in until his ears twitch up at "Brad?"
It's Killian, looking serious but a little nervous. She's dressed like she's about to go on a mission, the crossbow on her back just barely missing the door as she shuts it. Brad sits himself up immediately, fingers lacing over his desk while he looks up at her, all smiles to try and look normal. "Killian! What can I do for you?"
"Hey, Brad. We need to talk." She says while she moves to sit across from him, setting her own hands on the desk away from the other orc's.
"Sure. What about?"
"Brian."
His expressions changes immediately. Eyebrows coming together in worry, his hands resting flat on the desk. There's so many questions on his mind that almost come out in the rush of emotions just hearing his fiance's name brings, but they're swallowed down and replaced with one. "What about him?" Killian can tell there's more he wants to ask, but doesn't bring it up, shifting back in her seat. Her arms cross in front of her chest and she glances away when she first begins to speak.
"Was he acting weird, before he left?" Brad seems more confused than anything when she looks back at him. "Or did he say anything strange?"
Hands laying over each other now, he takes a moment to think, frowning. "I don't think so... He was pretty stressed out, but we both were. What with, you know." The fingers on his left hand wiggle, the gold and ruby red of his ring catching the light for a moment. "Besides that, everything was normal." There's an 'as normal as Brian could get' on the tip of his tongue, but with how grim Killian looks, now's probably not the time for it. She seems to mull over his answer, her own frown deepening, but eventually nods.
"Alright, thanks." She stands then hesitates, looking back down at Brad. "Uh, sorry to bring him up. I know things have been hard-"
"Did something happen?" The question catches her off guard and her jaw clenches, a hand coming up to rub at her neck. Brad looks so worried but so hopeful, leaning in towards her, hands clasped together.
"... We don't know." That hope leaves his face as quickly as it came, with Brad sitting back in his chair. "Look, I'll update you when I can, okay? I've really gotta go." She heads to the door, turning back just before she steps through and out of his office. Brad's moved to leaning his elbows on his desk, head turned to face her but his eyes on his hands, glued to his engagement ring. One last nod is shared between them before Killian leaves with a heavy sigh. Brad continues to sit there, thoughts empty while he looks over the ring, until he inevitably has to go back to his dorm.
Another four days pass before he learns why they had to talk.
He hadn't stopped his visits to the hangar, really; between work and trying to distract himself with anything else possible, Brad just didn't have the time to come by as much as he'd like to. Now, while he's passing through as casually as he can, he comes to a sudden stop, eyes to the view outside.
There's a sphere coming up.
The bay's full of people just milling around today, some waiting to get sent planet-side, others like him are just heading through or bored enough to stand around. Brad fits right in, unseen, feeling his heart stop when it comes closer, stopping safely inside the bureau. His knuckles go white from the grip he's got on his own arms, fingers threatening to bruise. It could be empty, for all he knows; just coming back after someone was shot back down to Faerun or wherever else.
Its door slides open, and Killian steps out. His chest tightens.
She's followed by three men, a dwarf, a human, and an elf; all looking a ways more on edge than her. The door closes behind the four of them and a guard helps roll it along to be cleaned and ready for later.
They're the only ones coming back.
Brad looks between them, eyes darting from the three new arrivals to the regulator herself. They're all pretty bad off, splattered with blood and soot and covered in bruises. The guys are unsteady on their feet, but that's to be expected before Avi helps them out or they get inoculated. If they get inoculated. Killian looks up just in time for their eyes to lock, and she swallows before forcing her gaze forward and moving ahead, away from him. His own gaze drops, as does his stomach.
Going back to his office is easy. Working is harder, with his head simultaneously reeling and empty, and he hardly gets anything done before he goes back to his quarters for the day.
He isn't too surprised when the Director inevitably comes in to talk. He sits, totally still, and listens, and nods when it seems like he should, not asking questions or pressing for details, just thanking her for telling him. She goes as awkwardly as she came, and Brad is soon left alone again.
It's nearly four a.m. the next time he leaves his dorm. The only sound in the halls are his echoing footsteps, though he still worries that he'll get caught and questioned about why he's up. The last time Brad was awake and walking around at this hour, he was in such a better mood, cheeks red, one hand covering his mouth to stifle his laughter, an arm wrapped around...
He only stops feeling so tense when he finally reaches his destination. Slowly, the door to the Voidfish's chamber is creaked open, letting him peek inside. Johan sleeps at his desk so much that there was a good chance he'd be there now, but thankfully for Brad, he's nowhere to be found. Just in case, though, he shuts the door behind him before he walks up to the tank. He doesn't visit the Voidfish too often, but thinking now, maybe he should. Johan could probably use the company, and the room seems so peaceful, empty save for the jellyfish's home and a desk covered in half-finished compositions.
Now's not the time for that though, Brad thinks, tightening the hold on the paper in his hands. Earlier during their talk, the Director had said that there was no use in having any sort of ceremony for Brian. He was a traitor. Traitors didn't deserve funerals.
Maybe fiances did. Stopping just in front of the outside trough of the Voidfish's tank, the orc gives it one last look-over. It's nearly illegible; how fast he was writing and his current emotional state hadn't really helped its cleanliness. Brad remembers what he wrote, anyway. How he and Brian met, where their first date was and how it went, what they talked about... Things that only the two of them would remember, down to when and how he proposed.
(Four months ago, now. Brian on a knee, an open ring box in one hand, the other holding Brad's, looking up at him for once. Uncharacteristically nervous but hopeful, delighted at his quick answer and so caught up in joy that he'd nearly rammed his head into the orc's chin standing back up. )
It's more symbolic than anything, he supposes. Any important information on Brian was probably fed to the Voidfish as soon as the Director heard about his passing. This is just for him. A deep breath, and slowly, Brad opens the lid of the trough. Document inside, the lid shuts with a quiet clunk, and his hand hesitates at the switch. He'll feel better once it's done, he's sure. Just had get it over with quick. Like pulling out a splinter. He swiftly brings the lever down.
He follows the parchment as it floats up into the tank, tearing his gaze away when it actually nears the Voidfish. There's no sound to tell him when the deed's done, but he knows. Relief doesn't come immediately, but as he plucks off his glasses to rub at weary brown eyes, he hopes that it will soon. Being able to relax for the first time in weeks would be nice.
For now, Brad just stands there, looking up at the Voidfish blinking bright colors in its tank. He's surprised by how nice it is to look at without his glasses. So much more vibrant, if a lot blurrier, and prettier. Brian said almost the same thing about him once, calling him pretty after stealing his glasses away and pressing a kiss to the apple of his cheek when he leaned in to grab them back. Brad said something about returning the compliment once he could see clearly and Brian had laughed, reluctantly handing them back.
His free hand reaches up to touch said cheek, fingers coming away wet. He's not sure when he started crying, but the realization that there tears are streaming down his face nearly makes him choke. Brad leans forward to press his forehead to the glass of the Voidfish's tank with a sob, footing unsteady, one hand balled up into a tight fist that he uses to wipe at his eyes. The tears continue on and soon he's sitting and leaning his side against the tank, shoulders shaking while both hands cover his red, tear-streaked face. His glasses, safely set on one leg, threaten to slide to the floor when the shaking gets too much, body wracked by crying.
It feels like hours, but eventually, his eyes dry up and the shaking subsides. Brad looks up with bleary eyes and blurry vision for any clock in the room to give him an idea of how long it's been, but there's nothing. Maybe Johan didn't like knowing the time. Still, he's probably been there for way too long. By now the Voidfish's inner lights are dimmed, though he could still see them softly twinkling if he squinted. When he reaches for his glasses, his ring catches the faint light and shines up at him, gold and bright and out of place amongst the deep blue and purple reflections from the tank. He looks from it to the creature in the tank to the feeding slot and swallows the lump in this throat. Symbolically destroying memories was one thing, but this...
One hand moves to cover the other, squeezing his fingers. He shouldn't. The Voidfish might choke or something, and who knows what he could actually end up erasing. The world would be a worse place without rings, he's sure. His glasses are put back on and Brad stands on shaky legs, brushing himself off and wiping at his face. The hallways are just as quiet as before when he leaves, but this time he's less worried about getting caught.
He feels pretty good, actually. His hands are still shaking and he still feels a little unsure with his steps, yes, but his head's clearer. Brad's not sure if this is the sort of relief he expected, this light feeling in his chest and head, but it's better than how he felt before. Now he welcomes the memory of him and Brian from before; the two of them heading back to Brad's dorm, arms looped around each other, footsteps heavy, his head that same sort of clear. Maybe that's why it's coming back to him so easy.
By the time Brad reaches his quarters again, his hands are still. The clock above his stove reads five-thirty, which isn't too bad, all things considered. An hour and a half of dealing with, well. That. Sitting in his bedroom in the dark, he reaches for his engagement ring to take it off for the night. It still looks like it's glowing even now, catching whatever light it can while he turns it in his hands.
Brian could've been- was- a traitor to the bureau. Brad understands that much, but he knows that wasn't always the case. Whether the relic had done something to him or that was a recent change, he's not sure, but he knows who Brian really was. A dramatic, touchy, talkative, slightly pompous elf- the man he loved. The ring's set on his bedside table with a quiet click, and Brad drifts into an easy sleep, knowing that the memories he has of him are enough.