offdxty

[offdxty]

The way Spector shivers is certainly spotted, noted, acknowledged - immediately, that is - and Santiago inhales, then exhales long and slow as he feels a shiver of his own roll along his wet spine, from head to toe, back up. As warm as it is, the fact that they're soaked to the bone just isn't helping - neither is the high humidity, making it harder for them to actually dry off without any kind of towel, anything that they could use...

Eyes on the other, the bruises, he licks his bottom lip - takes in the bit of that joke the other offers, trying to lighten the mood; Shit, the fact that they've survived this is... something, certainly - the fact that it has happened to begin with, on top of it all. That both helicopters had crashed into the jungle, the storm so damn strong that even Santi himself feels a bit afraid of it, both of them now stuck here, unsure how to proceed, what to do next---

Are they the only survivors? Have others made it? If so, where are they? Are some currently dying, succumbing to injuries that might be even worse than what Garcia and Spector are going through? Should he go back out there, find them, help in some way?!

No, he shouldn't. If Santi were to attempt to drag his ass back out now, he'd die - go on a literal suicide mission - and fuck it, he cannot let Spector handle this shit alone, leave him behind.

"...Heh, you're right." A nod, a hint of a smirk, focus back on the moment - brown eyes on equally as brown ones for a moment or two, a second passes... before another breath is being taken, the very same gaze trailing along deep blue and purple. "A bit funny, huh? Both of us favored the left side while going down... is that a soldier-thing? Did we actually learn to do that, at some point? Man, it's been a while..."

"...You're freezin' - that's because you're a wet poodle right now. I'd usually... uh, start a fire, but..." A shrug, a nod toward the front of the cave, another deep sigh as a gaze follows. "... Cannot exactly go out there right now, so... we have to use what we've got."

A hum, a glance at their bags; A shake of his head, then he begins to undo his belt, fumbles with the button and zipper of his soaked pants. Keeping those on won't improve on their situation - they need to get all that wet stuff away from their bodies---

"We'll use that first aid later - I might have one myself, in case it survive the fall. ...It should've. Just --- go on, undress. If you need any help, let me know." ... "---No need to be shy." Another smirk, an arch of a brow. "You and me both, we have seen worse than almost-naked comrades, huh? I bet you did, because I sure as hell had the pleasure of being met with some sights I'd like to forget about."

It's a try at being playful in return, help to lift the spirits, keep them both afloat - Spector had been the one to start it, and Santiago is happy to assist.

"Hundred year storm -- that's what they call it, huh?" It was a fucking mess, that's what it was. They were lucky the inside of the cave was warm and humid. Granted it didn't feel great considering they were soaked to the bone. Maybe even deeper than that, really, with how heavy Marc's clothing felt at that very moment. Which might make it a good point that Garcia made there -- getting undressed. A huff, a nod of a head. Eyes on the other and his movements just a moment too long. It wasn't like Marc was shy or something. He's a man in the military -- this was nothing. However he still felt an odd fluster when shuffling out his own jacket, his own shirt coming off slower since he had to hiss through some pain to manage it. His bag tossed as well -- maybe together they might have something salvageable. By the time Marc was half undressed, dark eyes found the other man again just to grimace at the bruising on his body. It looked. . . bad. Or at the very least uncomfortable. However. . . Looking down at himself, Marc couldn't help a scoff. A press of his own fingers into his own tanned side that was blossoming with purples and reds. "Looks like we're matching there." He offered to try and lighten the mood, nodding his head in Garcia's direction and the other man's bruising. "Looks painful. Bein' stabbed n' shot doesn't mean that's gotta feel nice." Marc had only had near moments like that, actually. Nothing serious. Naked now at least from the waist up, there was a set of shivers that took over Marc's body then. Teeth chattering with it. The hot, humid air would soon warm him up, but until then he was still chilly thanks to how long they'd been out there stuck int hat damned storm. "Might have some first aid in my bag t-that didn't get fucked, if y'wanna check. . ?" a stutter on a teeth chatter, making him huff a little as he spoke.

[offdxty]

Lena is keeping a list, she says - and Kane finds himself becoming curious, lifts both of his brows as he leans with his hip against the kitchen counter, coffee machine working to get the desired beverages ready; Yet, despite his obvious interest - and a question written into the depths of his dark eyes - Kane remains quiet about it, suspects that Lena might not talk about an actual, physical list here, but rather something she's keeping inside her mind.

It makes sense - she knew the original Kane, after all. The man who had made it into the lighthouse, found the origin of the shimmer, interacted with it. He was her husband, her partner, a person very close, a guy she'd shared parts of her life with... and now here Kane is, the one who's emerged from the very same lighthouse, but is, in fact, not her husband.

Not really, at least. Partially, perhaps; They have things in common, as Lena says so herself - their liking for those chocolate bars, for example.

---And, well, their visual appearance. Kane, not-Kane, it, knows he's a copy - he's taken what had been given to him and made it into who he is now. Without his own consent, that is - he didn't ask for it, but he'd been born into this world with the help of said shimmer. Still exists, despite the shimmer itself having gotten destroyed. Has to figure out what to do now, how to be... alive - how to function, how to proceed.

Lena's helping him, even though Kane is so similar to her deceased husband, keeps reminding her of him, brings up memories and emotions - while also being entirely different at the same time.

Kane has only recently started to think about it - to truly think about it, that is. To take it all in, to mull it over - the situation as a whole, who he is, who she is, what it all means...

Or, could mean, in the end. Or will never mean, even.

He's got no answers yet, but... maybe, one day, he will find them, somewhere.

"---I would like to." An offer is being made by Lena, and Kane doesn't need to mull that one over, at least; He blinks as he takes a step closer to her form, brown eyes focused on her handling the pan, the eggs, the vegetables...

Kane knows how to use the oven, knows how to set a certain temperature and that he needs to wait for some time until whatever food he's having is cooked through - she will tell him the exact time and temperature, usually, just so he isn't messing anything up.

But actual cooking? Kane's never done that. It intrigues him, however...

"Can I... help you, somehow? Do something for you?"

Just the same as Kane would wind up watching Lena -- she did the very same with him. While he made and prepared the coffee, dark eyes found his movements. Watched as he meticulously went about preparing it. The fresh beans in the machine, watching the grind as it was powered on. One of the higher end makers, something splurged on and now she was a bit thankful for that. When working on cracking the eggs into a bowl, Lena can feel his eyes on her. She can feel the way they watch, take in, observe. Maybe weeks ago it would have bothered her -- made her self conscious in a way. Made her wonder if she should hold herself differently, make sure her expression was this way or that. What did he see, when looking at her? What made her worth his contemplative gaze? "One of the differences. . . " She repeat the words, played with them. Sighed, nodded her head soon after. "Maybe you're right. One of many, so far. I've started keeping a list, at this point." It was more a joke than anything else, but there was some truth behind her words. Not necessarily a list more so as she kept track of the few instances where her beliefs were washed away by the way this Kane behaved. He, it -- the way he existed so against the grain from what she was used to. No explanation for the veggie love, but a question of his own. One that settled somewhere heavy but. . . not as heavy as before. Weighted, but not to the point it felt like concrete on her feet as she was dragged underwater. It didn't make her feel like drowning so much as it made her heart clench just a moment, to talk about him.

"Oh, more than actual food, sometimes." She huffed. It was -- easier. Should it be? Was it wrong, for it to feel easier? Was she wrong for being thankful that it was? "I'd -- catch him some nights. Late, probably woken to do business and he'd be down here eating them. Always looked like a kid getting caught when I'd find him. . . " A fondness to her voice. Only, it was more. . . nostalgic. Reminiscing instead of mourning. Something she would feel guilt for late at night when she was left alone with her thoughts. "So maybe that's one thing you both have in common. . ." Offered up to him, to do with how he pleased. The cracking of eggs done, seasonings added, and then fresh veggies being cut up next. She was much more careful with the knife than she had been that first night back. Less distracted with sorrowful feelings. Once done she could add them to cracked eggs, mix it up so that when cooked it would be evenly distributed. ". . . Do you -- want to help? Learn a little?" He'd gotten to the point of using the oven, once or twice. Straightforward as it was. 'Put this in for x amount of time'. Actually cooking would be different. Something she'd dreaded having to do -- having to teach him when he looked like someone who should know. Now, though. . . now it was easier.

[offdxty]

It gets boring waiting around, huh?

Well, yeah - Will supposes that a man like Cecil doesn't have much patience left existing inside of him which he could utilize to... prevent that boredom from kicking in. Watching, observing, taking in the sight of their surroundings - all of that doesn't seem to give him enough of a kick, with the young man craving a bit more action, huh.

Sucks that said action has led him to where he is now - addicted to alcohol and drugs, his mind going crazy, making it impossibe for him to focus, to keep his senses sharp and his mind alert.

---Part of Will wonders if it might be too late for the kid. It makes him inhale, followed by a long and slow exhale; Fingers wrap around the offered plastic tube filled with a couple of pills that look innocent enough: Pure white, oval in shape, nothing printed onto them whatsoever.

A blink, with Will taking a closer look at the see-through container. He swallows, blinks once, then lowers those pills for a moment - gaze back on Cecil, dark brown on equally as dark brown, brows knitted in a mixture of disapproval and ...concern.

Worry, even... maybe.

"Y'know, I never asked you 'bout any details. Never wanted to know what the fuck has been going on in your life, all of that---" He knows there's a past sticking to the younger, Will's very much able to recognize people of Cecil's kind, "---Just picked you up. Here we are. You looked for a place, a person, to keep you afloat... and I did that. You're with me now. You're alive, you're breathing, you're... okay-ish, all things considered."

Another exhale, a jaw moving, sliding back and forth as that gaze rests upon the tube of pills again. Will shakes it briefly, holds it this and that way...

"...What's this exactly? Psychotropic drugs? Regular drugs? You say they keep your mind from going crazy, huh? ...What's up with that?"

"And you got that, man! Sharp mind, sharp wits. Alla it. I've seen it." A nod like Cecil was just agreeing now, genuine and warm. A smile coming along with his words because he really did mean them. "It just gets a little. . . boring waiting around." The motion in his head gets a little too loud, and Cecil would much rather drown it out with a little bit of booze and a few pills, if he could. What harm was there? He'd been doing it so long surely negative side effects would show by now, right? Poor Cecil was always too far in it to notice the negatives already existing, it seemed.

Give 'em to me.

There was a pout that made it's way into plush lips. Dark eyes latched to the palm held out to him. a shift on one foot to another as Cecil clearly debated actually listening. . . but Will had already given him the ultimatum before. Quit, or he couldn't stick around. And really, with the type of shit he'd gotten into once, he needed to be on the move with Will. That was his only option.

"Fuck, I used up the last of my money for this." Mumbled, but he was rummaging in his pocket on his hoodie until he could present the pills, handing them over with one last purse of lips.

[offdxty]

Kane had expected their day to go... differently, certainly. Had expected the split-open tomato to be the main reason for him to have certain feelings rise inside his chest - something akin to a hint of disapointment, perhaps a bit of additional worry regarding the plant itself.

What has happened instead, however, makes him forget entirely about those minuscule gardening-issues, the loss of a perfectly ripe fruit, of something a living being had created out of pure will to survive, to grow; The fog is still rather dense, air filled with moisture, causing every inhale to feel a little thicker than usual - and Kane takes in a few of those inhales, fingers tighening around Arthur's own, holding on.

He knows that his partner is doing everything he can to protect them from this, the moment they're currently caught within; Has even positioned himself in a way that makes it very clear to any bystanders, with Kane's own shoulder existing behind his partner's, palms pressed together, gentle circles being drawn into warm tissue.

But, despite - and because of - it all, Kane's heart is racing, even though he tries to come across as casual as he possibly can. They'd handed out their fake IDs, their fake names, spoken about their intentions, why they're here, what they've planned to do for the duration of their stay; The fact that their IDs are, apparently, not scanning in any database - well, Kane's unsure what to think of it, they've never had any problems with them so far...

But those IDs might turn everything into a problem now.

The fact that they're still searched for, that people keep looking for them, want to have Kane back - it's sickening, a reality they'd managed to push away so well, just for the sheer weight of it to crash back down like a tsunami would, merciless and violent.

What if they'll figure it out, these two random police officers, the secret both Kane and Arthur carry around each and every single day? What if they'll ask both Arthur and Kane to accompany them to another place, where they'll be held against their will...

---What if the'll take them back to the facility, and find out about Kane's pregnancy?

The mere thought of it causes bile and panic to rise, and Kane presses his lips into a tight line as that grasp he's having on Arthur's hand must become uncomfortable for his partner with how strong it is. He swallows, eyes flicking back and forth between the man and the woman, and Kane fights his own emotions with everything he has - just to try and keep the shimmer from appearing within his irises...

A weak point of his, the fact that his eyes can, and do, change color whenever he's going through something intense - no matter if it's positive or negative in nature.

A free hand rises and places itself on top of Kane's belly, fingers splaying, a protective layer between the growth that exists there and the dangerous outside world; He's grateful about the fact that he's not too far along, as it will prevent any unwanted questions from being asked. At this point he just looks like a normal guy with a bit of extra fat clinging to his stomach, nothing unusual, nothing that would cause any suspicions to rise.

---That being said, suspicions have already risen to a certain point, because... well, as Arthur says himself, they're here, and they're currently being questioned. Kane doesn't dare to open his mouth any further than he already did - offering his name, his ID, such things - and lets his partner do the rest...

He wished he could act in some way, though. Just... protect them in a similar way that Arthur is currently protecting him and the twins.

The silence that stretches is uncomfortable, very much so, and Kane hates every second of it. That gaze being exchanged between the officers? Important, in a way. Heavy. Threatening. Kane's teeth dig into the inside of his cheek, brown eyey briefly flicking over to Arthur before focusing back on the two strangers - down to where holsters are attached to their hips, complete with a gun and an additional magazine. They're armed, and part of Kane wonders if they would use those weapons to make them do whatever they want - would they shoot them, were both Arthur and Kane to try and run away from this?

"We have to ask you both to accompany us back to the station." The woman's speaking, finally, once another period of heavy quiet had passed between them. "---We would like to ask you some additional questions - just a standard procedure, because of your IDs. Won't take too long."

Kane freezes. His breath gets stuck inside his throat, which causes him to make a tiny noise; A quick clearing of his throat to try and overplay it, accompanied by his gaze returning back to Arthur, usually so vibrant features pale now.

Accompaniy them? They have to... follow them to the police station?

Kane doesn't like this. He hates it. He feels his fight-or-flight instinct kicking into full gear, considers to just turn around and flee, to somehow make it back into the Van and just leave everything else behind in favor of getting out of here, far away---

But that would be a deeply stupid thing to do. Kane knows. They can't run from this, can't fight their way out... Shit.

@offdxty \\ plotted.

The rain had finally quit a few hours ago, but the sky didn’t suggest as such. Grey hung low over the nearby pine trees, the clouds moving so slowly that they may have gone still entirely. Two trucks idled in the mud off the side of the road, headlights piercing into the fog; it wasn’t as big of a deal as it needed to be, Arthur knew, and yet at the same time it absolutely horrified him. 

He didn’t understand what was going on, and that alone was enough to bother him. He knew that the trucks had arrived, that the men had seemed friendly at first; waving, asking how they were doing, commenting on the weather. Arthur and Kane had been outside, of course, looking over the little garden beds now that the rain was gone - one of the tomatoes had been lost to the storm, dropped to the ground and split open against the dirt and rock, but that had rapidly become a less pressing concern. 

The officers were civilian dressed, but unmistakably government in some way. They were kind, respectful - Arthur wished they weren’t. 

He kept his hand on Kane’s the entire time. It was resting between them as they stood just a bit too close, fingers locked loosely, Arthur standing just a bit ahead of the other. It was enough that Kane would know he was safe, Arthur hoped; Arthur wouldn’t run. He wouldn’t do anything without making certain Kane was safe - making certain that the two little ones were safe, too. 

“… We’re just looking to clear up some confusion,” one of the men said, his accent thick but fairly decent at English. His arms were folded, not matching his kind tone. “You matched a description. Well - actually, both of you did. That’s why we stopped you.” 

Arthur gave a soft smile, polite; he looked calm, but only because of practice. His heart was racing, his nerves only showing by his thumb gently rubbing circles into Kane’s hand. 

“That’s alright,” he answered. “We understand. Just a coincidence, I imagine.” 

The agent stared at him for a few moments too long. “… Sure,” he agreed. “But, y’know. With it just being coincidence, you won’t mind us sticking around for a bit, right? For a more detailed talk.” 

Arthur’s thumb did another slow, gentle circle. “We’ve already given you our IDs.” 

“IDs that don’t scan in any database,” another agent cut in, from behind. She was a woman, younger, her accent less thick and her tone more direct. “And I know that isn’t coincidence. We’re not here to cause problems - but you can understand why we’re curious.” 

Arthur let out a slow breath through his nose. “We’re not criminals.” 

“Sure. We didn’t say you were.” 

“But you think we are.” Arthur’s gaze shifted fully to the woman. His voice stayed even, controlled; it wasn’t defensive, but rather just gentle, factual. “You’ve had us stand here for over an hour. We’ve explained our route, our names - we’re camping off grid, which isn’t a crime. You took photos of our plates, you looked inside the van - what else is it you’re hoping to find?” 

The woman didn’t blink. “You’re pretty careful, for a man with nothing to hide.” 

Arthur smiled again, polite, controlled, something that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m careful because we’ve been followed before,” he answered. “Too many people are bothered by two men living together like this - but we’re not bothering anyone. We’re out here, by ourselves, not doing anything wrong.” 

There was a heavier pause after Arthur’s words, enough to make him hope that he had landed something correctly. He just wanted them gone, in truth - he wanted them gone so that he could get in the van and get the hell out of here. 

“No one said you were bothering anyone,” the first agent answered, shifting his weight. “We’re just doing our jobs. You understand that, right?” 

Arthur’s jaw shifted, and he nodded, choosing not to verbally reply. 

“And you’re right,” the man continued. “Camping off-grid isn’t illegal. Neither is…. Well. This.” He gestured vaguely to the two of them, the held hands. “We’re not trying to make any assumptions.” 

“You already have,” Arthur reminded; not combative, but again only truth. “You came here with assumptions. That’s why we’re standing here.” 

The woman exchanged a glance with the man beside her - tight, brief. Arthur could read the look, of course, his own grip tightening lightly on Kane’s hand; they weren’t going to get out of this easily. They were likely going to be detained. Running was an option - but it could end very, very badly. Lying was a safe bet, but only to a point; their photos were likely in a database. It meant that they were on a timer, with a limited number of cards. 

He could only pray that playing along, for now, was playing his cards right. 

─── ⋆⋅𓍝⋅⋆ ─────────────────

[offdxty]

How Adorable are You?

Kane

Kane is feeling a little offended by that; What does this even mean? Can someone be 10% adorable? ...Ah, well, anyways, he doesn't care too much about such things.

Santiago

Well, Santi definitely thinks he's husband material. He also thinks he can be quite adorable. So, yeah, he agrees. Sounds about right.

Will

Will agrees. He's not adorable, not at all. He is the opposite. In fact, he would like to give himself a 0% adorable-result.

Bonus Will with his actual, real name:

Looks like Will is actually very adorable, but shhh.

Tagged by: stolen from @therapardalis Tagging: You. ♥

[offdxty]

Just our luck, then?

Santi has to outright chuckle at that - a dry one it is, pained because of how fucking true it is, with him nodding a few times before exhaling a deep breath that could carry the weight of the world, really. "Yeah, just our damn luck, of course it is. Expected anythin' else? I mean, we already crash-landed, why not just--- put a fucking hundred-year storm on top of it all..."

Another grunt, and he, finally, takes a seat himself - sits on the ground in front of Spector, legs crossed, as be begins to take off his backpack; Thank god he'd had that one on during their flight, wanted to be prepared for touchdown... just not in that way, he guesses. Had expected things to go entirely different, for sure.

They survived, yes, but they now need to figure shit out.

"---Take those--- clothes off, man. We gonna freeze to death otherwise, skin can't keep the heat in, all of that---" A nod toward the other, exhaustion clinging to every syllable of his spoken words; Grunting out another noise of discomfort, Santi takes his jacket off, then his shirt...

It's not cold were they are, far from it - hot and humid - but the water, that's the problem. It will, eventually, make them shiver and drain them of their own natural heat, and that's going to be dangerous.

Bronze skin is revealed, and with it comes thick bruising on Santiago's left side - a cut on his abdomen, but shallow, as well as what looks like a rather nasty bruise all over his left shoulder as well. That's the side he'd fallen onto, hit a few branches with on his way down, such things.

It fucking hurts, but he's a soldier, he'll get through it.

"---M' fine." Grinding his teeth, he huffs out another breath - the act of undressing seemingly taxing on him, as if it takes most of his leftover energy. "Went through worse. Got shot once, stabbed, so... I'll make it. You'll make it. We both have to make it, so to not have all of this be for fucking nothing."

A nod, brown eyes on equally as brown ones, a half-smirk that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

---A bone of two might be broken there, somewhere inside his body - shoulder, side - but Santi does not focus on that, not right now.

By the time they made it to that cave Marc was in about the same condition as Garcia was. Breathless, panting, a little shaky on the legs. The rain water was soaked through every layer of clothing he had on and then some. It left him to want to shiver by the time they shuffled their way into somewhat-safety. Plopping to the floor once he was helped to sit down. It ached, he groaned, then rest his head back on the rocky wall. "Just our luck, then?" He asked it low, huffed softly. His hand went to his side as he shifted, sat up a little bit more. Finally got to taking a look at his company now instead of only focusing on himself here. No need to be rude to the guy that kind of just saved his life, right? "I should be asking you that, man. . . We know what my issues are -- but you got any of your own over there?" God forbid they look over Marc's injuries and not the other man's. That would be a little bit fucked, if he thought about it. "Got any cuts? Scrapes? Bruises? Can't convince me I'm the only one that ate shit fallin' out that damn helicopter."

[offdxty]

She's just here on a whim, Thera says - damn, and what a whim that truly is, huh? The world is massive, and both of them so very used to traveling all sorts of places; For them to end up here at the very same time is basically like winning the lottery - not unheard of, but certainly rare, a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

Santi chuckles, his grin wide and genuine, before he takes another drag of his cigarette - flicking it to the ground, grinding the heel of his shoe against, getting rid of that vice he'd allowed himself to get too attached to because of ... reasons.

---Reasons he doesn't like to think about, so he pushes them away, his attention on the lady instead.

"Yeah, furniture and all, isn't that crazy?" It's ridiculous, he knows, and Santiago allows that playful amusement between them to linger - nods his head over to where they'll be heading to before making the first steps, waiting for Thera to fall into her own pace next to him, the stroll a slow and comfortable one, easy, unhurried. "---Got myself a bed, a table, chairs... I even got myself one of those little sideboard-things, y'know, for the hallway? Yeah, all neat and tidy, with a glass bowl on top of it where I throw my keys into when arriving home... it's bad, Thera, I got all settled in like an old guy!"

A chuckle, a smirk, as he leads them down the street; They don't have to walk for long, just one or two blocks further down the road, then he's guiding them into a much smaller allweyway. It's a bit sketchy-looking, perhaps, but only to the tourists - locals aren't afraid of this, nor are they thinking of it as being shady.

The mentioned bar pops up just then, appearing a bit underwhelming, run-down at the corners and edges, small... but it's cozy, and it's quiet, and Santi is being greeted by what seems to be an old-time friend of sorts; A practiced handshake, a pat to his shoulder which he returns, some small-talk exchanged before they're taking a seat at one of those simple, wodden tables.

"Alright, here we are. I'm gonna---" A gesture back to the bar, a smile. "---What can I get for you? Take whatever you like, it's on me, obviously."

He's a gentleman, of course - would never let his friend pay for her own drink! Especially not when they're meeting under such interesting circumstances.

Thera hasn't properly noticed the cigarette - she's been too preoccupied with the familiar face, the familiar smile, a whisper of regret when the hug ends and they draw apart. It's not until Santi turns to take that quick don't-let-it-go-to-waste puff that she blinks, a little surprised. Is that new? She doesn't remember him smoking back in the day - the vices they had were in bottles and decks of cards, not paper-wrapped sticks.

But, hey, times change, even when it stops feeling like it's passed at all. The crowd filing into the bar is still trailing by, but she's not looking at them any more. Just at Santi, out of nowhere, and she can feel the grin on her face that wouldn't push down if she tried.

Maybe the smoking now has done them a favour, bringing him out of the building. Would she ever have seen him if he'd still been inside?

"Oh wow, furniture and all - !" She's teasing, of course, though there's a curious lilt to her smile; it's another thing to chalk up to 'times change'. "I'm just here on a whim," A fateful whim, it seems, but she's a long way from complaining, "seriously, pure tourist trash. It's not ... you know. For work or anything." Not tucking herself in undercover to find a trafficking ring or the wallet paying the poachers Santi used to help her hunt.

This really is just a holiday, and one that's a bit less isolated than it was half an hour before. Thera studies him a moment more, mulling over the whole 'settling down' he seems to be doing and thinking it agrees with him. Better than getting shot at or devoured by mosquitoes or anything else the jungle threw their way.

She kinda likes the thought that he's safe.

"I'd love a drink." As if she was going to just ... stroll off again so soon! "That was my plan for the evening, that and some food. But yeah, somewhere quieter sounds good." It was nice that this bar was doing good business, but it was already too crowded to be fun.

"Spirit me away, Mr Garcia," A chuckle punctuates, stepping back a little for him to lead the way. "This is your city, after all!"

[offdxty]

Listening to Arthur explain what he will be doing - offering the little details even, telling that he's in control already, knowing what to do, how to proceed - it calms Kane down even further, though he hasn't appeared tense to begin with.

Not at all, because he's not too worried; He trusts them both, and he trusts his own body, the universe.

...Yet, as his partner said himself, they have no idea what's going to happen - and why any of this has happened in the first place. Have no access to a hospital, should things go downhill. At least no easy access, that is; Arthur would find them a place, he's sure about it, if the need arised.

But besides all that, they cannot really plan ahead, as no book exists that tells about how a man like Kane is going to give birth to twins. Whether his pregnancy will even be a stable one, managing to bring life to full-term. As much as he trusts the system of life, it's faulty and makes mistakes; Aging is an error in code, all things considered - cells dying, new ones being made, but the process slows down, and cells die, die, die, and people age. Die themselves, at some point.

That's probably a rough way to explain things, and not entirely correct, but... it's easy to think about this way, without bringing too much science into the whole of it. Besides, the message is clear: Even though Kane is not human, his body is, to a certain degree - a copy of another body, another man who'd stumbled into the lighthouse many weeks, months, even years back... and now here they are, and the body has seemingly adapted enough to create offspring.

It shouldn't have done that, had Kane turned out to be 100% human. Even this copy of his frame, as neat and correct as it might be, is different, still - and who knows if it isn't making mistakes itself, on top of all of those errors that exists within nature anyways?

So, long story short - Kane does think about it, and is feeling some way because of it. But Arthur is here, and he assures him - has a plan, will keep a spreadsheet of Kane and the babies, will collect data and figure everything out. He is in control, he will offer Kane something to hold onto, and it's everything Kane could ever ask for in return.

They will manage, somehow. Things will be okay. Arthur will be here, and he will figure things out - he will find a way, for whatever comes for them.

Kane sighs, basically melts into their embrace as he keeps glancing over to the window, thoughtful - jaw shifting a bit, shoulders moving softly with each in- and exhale he takes. Slow, steady, comfortable.

---Then, he lets out a snort, followed by a chuckle and a brief shake of his head - amused, really, about the sudden statement made regarding... well, that.

Him pissing in a jar.

"---Well, isn't that a romantic thing to say, truly." Kane's being a tease; Another chuckle, an exhale - but he knows that this is part of what's coming for him, since, apparently, urine can tell a lot about a human's health.

They'd had the talk before. Arthur telling him to be honest, should anything ever change in any way about that part of Kane; Even though his lover hadn't been around back when Kane had gone through multi-organ failure before, Arthur is very much worried about it happening again, at some point.

It makes sense, and Kane understands. They never figured out why Kane went through it in the first place, almost died, but then just... recovered. Sure, the shimmer's source is gone, and somehow that had affected Kane in a good way it seemed... but there's no proof existing, nothing that tells about it never going to happen again.

A hum, a blink, hand continuing to draw patterns into Arthur's stomach - feeling the fabric of his shirt, the curves of muscles beneath, gentle dips and a few rolls of fat.

Kane loves them all, very much.

"Yeah, alright - I'll piss in a jar for you once a week. We should... get a piss jar for that. You know, for obvious reasons..."

Smirking, Kane allows a second to pass, then shrugs.

"Should we label it? Kane's piss jar?" ...Okay, that's weird. Kane grimaces, then snorts out another, amused sound - feeling a bit like a child here for laughing about such things. It's easy to entertain him, sometimes...

A swallow, a sigh, with him forcing himself back into more serious territory; A blink, a nuzzle of his nose against Arthur's shoulder...

"You'll take care of me." Soft-spoken, genuine. "You'll take care of everything. I know you will. I trust you. If anyone can make this work - and do spreadsheets, get us a new ultrasound, anything - then it's you. You're... especially good at such things, at planning and solving problems. I admire that about you - a lot."

Arthur allowed himself to be tugged down without resistance, the corners of his mouth twitching faintly as Kane pulled him in with more strength than he was probably supposed to use. He made a faint sound solely to be dramatic, hitting the bed with a soft oof, but he quickly settled right where he was wanted. Laying on his side, his back curved just slightly, one arm slung loosely around Kane’s neck. 

At first, he didn’t say much of anything at all; he just existed, breathing quietly, listening to the storm roll on outside. It was still a bit loud, raindrops hitting the roof of the van in large, scattered pats, thunder rolling in the distance; Arthur had never been frightened of storms, though. He liked them, were he honest - there was something calming about rain and thunder, the gentle purr of the universe as it once again cleared the earth around them. 

Rain was a reset, a new beginning - it only felt fitting that they would discover something so big in the middle of a rain storm. 

... It was nice to be held like this.

It was something that Arthur had rejected for a bit, just because it took him time to get used to it; but now having Kane’s limbs draped around him felt as natural as a blanket. The body heat was nice, as was the leg flopped over his own. It wasn’t suffocating, even if he was usually more picky about weights against his legs - any ache didn’t matter. 

Arthur exhaled through his nose, closing his eyes for a moment. One of his hands went to Kane’s hair, content to toy with the damp curls - the other wrapped around Kane in return. He wasn’t as clingy as Kane was, but he was happy to be close. Happy to touch. 

“… Yeah,” he answered. “I’ll make a spreadsheet. Two, actually - one for the twins, one for you.” It still felt odd to say the word ‘twins’, to acknowledge that they were going to have children. 

His lips pressed to Kane’s forehead without thinking much about it; just a brief, warm kiss, pulled from the affection at the thought.

“I’ll record… weight. Pulse, blood pressure, vitals, nausea…. Appetite changes. Uh… probably your temperature, mood, sleep. Other symptoms. When we get there, I’ll focus on their movements. Size comparisons, make sure they’re growing right.” 

The twins would have each other as a control, which was nice; if one of them was notably smaller or moving notably less, then they would have a reason to be concerned. They would have to figure out a plan for what to do, in that scenario; Arthur would have to poke around, would have to find people they could rely on. 

Despite being a rather closed off person, deep down, he could come off as extremely charismatic and trustworthy at surface level. 

“I need to find a better machine,” he continued. “Something better quality. We’re too far out for hospital equipment - but I wouldn’t take you near one even if we weren’t.” He let out a soft breath. “It’ll be tricky to source something without flagging us, but… I’ll figure it out.” He always did. He was the one who did that - the one who figured things out, the one who found solutions. The one who took care of them, he liked to think. 

Another pause passed - he was still running through the mental checklist. Medication, food, access to supplements, daily check-ins - but Kane’s fingers were warm, and the little circles being drawn on his stomach were enough to make his brain soften into affection rather than strategy. 

“… You just focus on taking care of yourself, and taking care of them,” he settled on. “I’ll take care of the rest.” 

A hand lifted and curled lightly over Kane’s back, tucking him closer, his thumb brushing a small back-and-forth pattern there. It was odd to be this calm, he was distantly aware - they had no idea how this had happened, no explanation, no guarantee that things would be fine. But he felt okay - he felt steady. 

“I am gonna make you piss in a jar for me, every week,” he continued, entirely serious yet aware of the humor paired with it. “Just to make sure everything looks right.” 

─── ⋆⋅𓍝⋅⋆ ─────────────────

[offdxty]

Oh, Will is very much aware of it - of the control he has over the other, at this very moment. Perhaps Poe is going to take it back at some point - or maybe not, who knows? - but for now they're here, and Will can see, can feel, how much of an effect his act has on the younger; Poe's basically melting on his lap, with his thighs spread so wide, shuddering and licking his lips as he speaks about his intentions...

A hum, with Will's hand adding some more pressure to that trapped cock before fingers move away - but only so that he can go for the belt, flicking it open with expertise, doesn't even need his other hand for it - that has settled on the kid's waist for now, simply holding him.

"--Did you jerk off to me before?"

Not giving an answer to the other's question - even though Will is noting it, of course, has to lick his own lips as that dark gaze is now focused on where his hand works the button of those pants open, then pulls down the zipper. "...Thought about this, then got nice and hard, made yourself finish?"

Truth to be told, Will knows he's a little all-over-the-place here, has no structure to what he's doing, no plan, but... it seems to work nevertheless, judged by how eagerly Poe's cock is now pressing through the open fly, only covered by the thin layer of his boxers.

Will takes in the sight of it, then runs his fingers across the damp, covered head of that hard erection... a featherlight touch, a rub to the sensitive, hidden glans...

"---Since you seem to have naughty ideas, I bet you're having just as dirty thoughts, no?"

To anyone else, Will's tone truly would just come off as bored. As if the other man could be anywhere else but right there with Poe in that heated moment. Maybe buying groceries, doing taxes. Mundane things and not sat there with his palm glued to the younger's hard cock. Continuing those teasing touches -- continuing to add pressure in a manner that took the breath right out of the mechanic's lungs. Forced the air to stutter out into what was certainly a moan. Drawn out and breathless in sound as his hips jerked forward into that hand.

". . .Thinking about it."

Poe wondered if Will realized the control he had in that moment. The control that Poe was handing over to him. Control that Poe liked to be the one to play with, usually. Yet in that moment it was all in the palm of the other man's hand -- literally. Gripped there and holding the younger hostage in that moment of lust. Keeping him arched nice and pretty, keeping him hanging on the edge of his seat.

Slut -- the word kept being tossed around, and Poe was beginning to believe it. To really let it sink in as he licked drying lips. As he shuddered across the elder man's lap. "And if I did? If I thought about this exact thing happening? Would you deny me it for being naughty, handsome?"

[offdxty]

Hands work the coffee machine with expertise, Kane having long since figured out how to use it to its fullest potential; Fresh coffee beans are poured into a small container, which is then attached to the rest, followed by a few settings being pressed into the touch screen. The machine begins to work seconds after, letting out a few beeps and other noises, grinding and rattling as fresh coffee powder is produced, compressed---

Two cups are placed where they belong, one beneath each nozzle. It's practical, truly, how this coffee machine can produce two cups of the hot beverage at the same time - could, in theory, even brew two different kinds of coffee, quite amazing. It's not needed, though, with Kane enjoying his drink in the very same way as she does; Same strength, same amount, same everything.

He watches, takes in the sight of dark brown starting to collect, when Lena joins him in the kitchen, just mere moments after. She does not need to speak for him to sense the heaviness surrounding her, something tugging and prodding on her existence; Does she feel sad, he wonders, with Kane, not-Kane, it, looking over as Lena collects everything she needs to prepare the omelet she'd talked about earlier.

Dark irises follow her movements, her hands, before flicking up to focus on soft features mere seconds before those words finally leave her - words that Kane did not exactly expect to be met with, yet he'd felt her need to say something, to articulate whatever might be going on with her. It might be a connection of sorts, but... he isn't too sure. Isn't thinking about it too much.

He's just... feeling things sometimes, when it comes to Lena and her emotions.

"...I'm not sure how similar we are." The answer is soft-spoken and light, genuine, not at all negatively affected in any way - because she's right, Kane doesn't mind her curiosity, or her desire to know more. To hear about him - the one in the lighthouse, who used to be her husband. "You've asked me something similar before, remember - you asked me: Are you Kane? ... And I said: I don't think so. ... Perhaps this is one of the differences."

A brief pause, a slight tilt of a head...

"It just felt like something I want to eat - vegetables, I mean. I like them. Very clean, very... natural." A shrug, a gentle one, as Kane leans with his hip against the kitchen counter, close to the coffee machine; He hums, a little thoughtful, before folding his arms in front of his chest loosely. Comfortable. Lazy. Not deflective at all.

"I... don't know why." Why Kane, not-Kane, it, asks for vegetables - and likes them - when Kane, her Kane, wasn't especially fond of them. A difference, certainly, one that Kane himself doesn't really feel...

"---Did he like those chocolate bars?" Because those taste almost familiar to him. Perhaps that's something he has in common with the other, then...?

The way that Kane existed in that moment -- it. . . him -- left Lena in a state of truly baffled. Not something that showed, nothing more than her raised brows and huff of air from her lungs at his smile. Amused. He was nearing something almost cheeky towards the end as well, when he pushed up, walked past her in the small doorway. A near brush that had their skin in contact just for a second. Just long enough for a shiver to run down her spine at the lingering sensation. His eyes met hers when it happened, but only for that moment before the moment in and of itself -- passed. Only one cup, he said. Perhaps another but a promise for no more than that. One that sounded like a tease itself. Sounded like he wanted to keep smiling even as he made his way towards their small ktichen. Her kitchen? No, theirs. Kane lived there as much as she did now. No matter what she felt or how strongly she felt it, Lena could not deny that much. The fact he shared her space now. Shared the house just like. . . she used to with her own Kane. Only, not so much the same, was it? No, he, it -- there was differences. Too many now to put into a small container. Too many to keep proper count of. Living with Kane now was much different than when she lived with another Kane before. . . She could differentiate them now. Lena wondered when realizing that stopped making her so sick to her stomach. It felt like a betrayal, deep down. The same was seeing Dan had felt -- bringing him into her home. Their home. Housing Kane now lingered in her chest the same way Dan's countless invitations to barbeques did. Like dishonoring what she had left of her Kane. Making a fool of the man she'd loved, may still love and may always love.

Lena followed into the kitchen, only a few paces behind. Made her way to the fridge for the ingredients she'd need to begin cooking. It felt much like that first night she'd brought Kane back here, after they'd been released. Reminiscent in some ways, if not all. Cooking for him just as she had before. Only this time they were closer -- he was beside her with the coffee while she worked. She didn't tense or fear brushing of limbs, even if she was still so uncertain about the sensation that came along with it. "You know I'm -- . . . I'm surprised you want something like veggies for breakfast of all things. It makes me wonder how--" A pause, a swallow. she can speak about it. She knows Kane won't mind it. Knows the barrier keeping her from it is all her own. "--how similar. . . you and he truly are. He didn't hate healthy eating, but he wouldn't do so on his own." He. Not Kane. Because now Kane was here, in some way.

[offdxty]

"---I'm making you wait because---" Will's mouth snaps shut and he inhales, long and slow - then exhales, measured, before he blinks and glances to the side. A few seconds of silence pass, a moment of thinking, of consideration...

"...When you want to win money - want to leave places like these..." A lifted finger, pointing briefly at their surroundings - dark eyes back on equally as dark, yet much more glassy ones. "...Without going absolutely broke, you need to focus. You need to have a sharp mind and stay in control of the game."

Alas, with Cecil continuing to drink and throwing in pills like that, he's never going to get there. Will had hoped for the kid to... see something new, to get away from the stuff that will cause his downfall, in the end.

He's seen it happening way too many times - back in the military, back when they'd done the real bad stuff, many of his comrades had started to drink, take drugs in an attempt to numb it all. To make them feel better about doing shit.

Cecil does something similar, he says so himself - keeps his head from going all... whatever. From going crazy, most likely - from curling into itself with thoughts and fears and what else might be going on behind that forehead.

"---Where did you get the pills from?"

Cecil must've bought them recently, despite Will having told the younger to not buy any - a rule of sorts, for Cecil to be allowed to join him in the first place.

It isn't that easy, however, and Will knows. That's why he didn't freak out when he'd noted the other consuming them inside his fucking car, right next to him. The audacity.

A hand reaches out, palm side up, hovering between them.

"Give 'em to me."

Drugged to the moon and back -- that was definitely one way to put things. Cecil didn't think he was all that bad, really. To him, it was harmless. To him it was just a little pick-me-up. A little bit of fun before the real fun would ever even start when it came to drinking, taking what he took. He'd never actually had people in his life bothered by it until now. Harry would just indulge with him, Mary-Ann never seems particularly offended with it. She'd even wrote him, when he'd been in that rehab facility. The loony bin, as some called it. People didn't care! Until Will came along. Cecil still wasn't all too used to that, it seemed. "It's not like I'm plastered or anything. Just had a little fun while you played your cards. You make the money and do all the serious stuff, and I wait around for when you're done, right?" Because Will never let him tag along. always told Cecil to stay put. Made him a little sad, you know. Like a kicked puppy of sorts. Still, the way the other man looked at him in that moment definitely made some guilt begin to churn around in the younger's stomach. All uncomfy and unpleasant. . .

". . . Okay. Okay, yeah I -- before we got here, too. Just a little bit, you know? It keeps my head from getting all. . ." He tried to motion to it, like a scrambled up motion around his hair that maybe Will would understand. The pills kept him from thinking too much. That was a good thing.

[offdxty]

They just exist for a while, with Arthur moving, putting the ultrasound away, gathering clothes Kane is going to wear - it makes sense, since his cargo pants have already felt a bit too tight on his thickened frame, means that those few jeans he owns probably won't fit at all anymore.

Kane's been wearing shorts lately, the only pair of pants he owns that have an elastic waistband - that might be why the change to his belly is feeling so sudden for them...

---Quite the surprise it has been indeed, thinking about it: Going from their usual van-life to being pregnant with twins, just like that; The storm is still raging outside, rain colliding with the windows and the van's aluminum roof, accompanied by thunder and lightning... One cracks at that very second, causing Kane to jump again, followed by him rolling his eyes and bringing a hand up to his face, fingers rubbing along cheekbones, the curve of a nose, through unruly, slightly moist curls. He should know by now that they're safe here, that the thunder won't cause them harm...

But nature can be violent, and storms have a power to them that leave Kane a bit tense around the shoulders. As much as he is fascinated by the mere existent of such intense weather, he prefers to... not be subjected to it, actually.

A hum, with Kane feeling the mattress dipping in next to him; That hand falls away, brown doe-eyes on his partner, belly twitching a bit when the other cleans him up - removes the gel, as much as somehow possible, while speaking about that he is glad, that he trusts the universe... yet wants to keep in control, wants to check on Kane---

"...Of course I want you to keep an eye on things. Run checks and ultrasounds and... whatever you can do, really." Honestly, Kane wants it too - as said, he does trust his body and the universe, but then, he has no idea who - or what - he really is, in the end. Doesn't know how far his organism can go, or... how exactly things are going to progress, in general. It makes him feel a lot more relaxed if Arthur keeps doing what he always does - planning, checking, making sure.

It keeps him sane, keeps Kane feeling... secure.

A blink, a swallow, and then Kane moves - rolls onto his side, reaches out, and pulls his partner down against the mattress in one rather enthusiastic tug of a shirt, fingers curled into the fabric. A smile stretches over full lips as Kane is taking what he wants, gets the love of his life into a lying position, then cuddles close.

A soft noise of content, an arm that curls around a middle, a leg that throws itself across Arthur's own - and here Kane is, with his cheek to the other's shoulder, eyes closing, happy. As cool as his lover usually is, they'll both warm up in no time when resting like this - Kane's own body heat will make sure of it, create a comfortable bubble...

...Because yes, he's actually also starting to feel a little bit cold now.

"...I know I'm special." Soft, gentle, a little playful; Kane presses a kiss to the fabric of Arthur's shirt, then inhales, exhales, lies back down against that sturdy shoulder - eyes cracking open, heavy-lidded, gazing toward the window by their side. The outside world brightens significantly, just for a second and a half; Thunder cracks moments after once again, but this time, Kane does not get startled by the sudden, loud noise.

"---So are you. I hope you're aware of it." And Kane means it. "And I know you will keep track of everything. You will... check on me, on the babies, and plan everything out. ---I know I can count on you; Honestly, I'm glad you're doing it, because... well, look at me. I would make a huge mess of whatever data I'm trying to collect and end up having nothing, in the end." A chuckle, a smirk, with Kane's hand rubbing circles into Arthur's clothed belly. ... "...Tell me about it? Like, what... are we going to do from now on? What will you do, how will you keep track of everything? You're gonna make a spreadsheet of sorts, or---"

A bit of a tease, but genuine interest; Kane's always been fascinated by Arthur's methods - and his resilience - to make sure he's staying in control of everything that has to do with them. ---That's probably how he keeps them safe from... them, Kane assumes. The ones who are still searching, most likely - hoping to find out where that alien and the doctor had disappeared to after breaking out of the facility.

Arthur didn’t argue with Kane’s optimism, despite the fact that he could have. The fact that he should have, even; he could’ve brought up the lack of data, again. It was still in the back of his mind, as persistent as a weed - the ways this could go ‘bad’ were endless. They had no information, they didn’t even know if this 'state' of Kane would last long enough to work out - they didn’t fully understand what Kane was. 

Arthur didn’t speak on it again, though, instead just looking to Kane. Looking at his face, at the way he was leaning back against the pillows, still sticky with gel, his belly softly rounded and his eyes so glossy and sweet. 

There was another twist in Arthur’s chest, deep and hard - he allowed it, just smiling softly, gently glancing away. 

“Well - I’m cold,” he answered, more to fill the space than to actually make a point. “So you probably will be, too, once the adrenaline wears off.”

Even if Kane wasn’t now, he could be soon - he wanted Kane to stay warm. Comfortable, soft - he wanted Kane to stay healthy. He wanted the baby to be healthy, he wanted them both to be happy and healthy and just safe… 

Arthur took another breath, grounding himself. His voice was always warm in a dry way, though only because he was so focused; he was already making his way across the room, rummaging through the drawer of his things. A hoodie and sweatpants seemed the best - warm, loose. Things Arthur had a deep appreciation for wearing, when he felt up to it. 

... He didn’t say anything to the thought of being glowing. He rarely responded to compliments, just because he didn’t know how to respond to them properly; too many years had gone by with him disliking himself, not caring for himself. He accepted the compliments, he kept them safe in his head, in his heart - but he didn’t talk on them. 

He didn’t know how to. 

The machine was next, Arthur just staying crouched near the bed as he clicked it off, wiping the wand down, wrapping up the cord. It was put away with the same precision he always had, what he had used in his youth to clean up his work area; it calmed him. He liked the rhythm. It made things feel… normal, grounded. 

When everything was finally in order, Arthur went back to sitting on the bed, quieter now. Long limbs curled up again, just sitting - staring at the other man, thoughts still rushing through his mind too quickly to truly grab onto anything; he was happy, though. Happy and anxious, hopeful for a future that seemed so close. 

“… I’m glad, too,” he finally answered. “That it’s you. That we get this.” The towel was grabbed again, Arthur focusing on gently cleaning the gel off of the man - it wouldn’t hurt anything to leave it there, but he knew it likely felt uncomfortable. 

“And I trust you, too. And the universe. But I’m still going to be checking everything, until they’re born - that’s part of the deal.” He wouldn’t be satisfied without constantly knowing that everything was okay; his mind wouldn’t let him relax. 

Even now, his mind was still buzzing, still screaming thoughts too loudly for him to understand. 

“… You’re very special, y’know. Not just because of this, just… hm.” The thought was still in his head, not quite having made it out properly - but he didn’t feel a need to push it. 

[offdxty]

Kane could stay like this for hours on end - keep existing in this more or less awkward position, kiss Arthur until both of them couldn't breathe anymore, sore muscles staying behind from bending in such an odd way; He wouldn't mind any of it, as long as he gets to have his partner, to share this almost unbearable joy that exists within him---

But it would, certainly, make things uncomfortable, in the long run. There's sticky gel clinging to his skin, and at some point it will cause their sheets to get messed up - they also have to put the ultrasound away, and to... actually think about this. To think about what this means, how to proceed from here.

Seeing - and experiencing - Arthur laugh like this, being so utterly happy, just does something to Kane - has his chest soaring, in a way, burning bright like the sun itself.

Just like Kane feels himself: Burning and bright, overwhelmed, elated, excited---

---It is incredibly grounding to have someone who helps to push through all this - who, despite being so happy, has enough power left to think about how to handle things from here. While it feels incredible to just keep giggling and laughing and allow oneself to be fully consumed by the joy of going through the impossible, the high needs to be curated - and managed in a way so that it doesn't turn into something unbearable all by itself, on top of all of those unbearably positive emotions.

It doesn't mean they can't be excited, can't feel elated, delighted - but it's better to go through the wave in a soft up and down rather than a rise and crash. Kane, who's filled to the brim with all kinds of emotions all the time, every second of his life, needs this to be able to hold onto something; Arthur is his anchor, and his anchor is speaking out very wise words that need to be considered, thought about, followed by the offer to get them situated, finally.

Again, it helps, truly does - and Kane inhales, exhales, allows that pressure to escape him through flared nostrils as his smile persists, usually so brown irises bright white and colorful as they slowly separate, able to look at each other's features. The shimmer tells more than Kane himself could - proving that it's good for him to calm down a little, with how bright he seems to be shining at this very moment.

I love you too, Arthur says, and follows it up with their babies - that he loves them too, that they are their babies, belonging to both of them.

It's perfect. It's... everything, it's incredible, and Kane sniffles again as he nods a few times, then closes his eyes to try and come down from that burst of everything that he's just gone through; He continues to breathe and feels his shoulders relaxing, hand sliding away from his partner's neck when more distance is brought between them - comes to a brief rest on the one on his belly, accompanied by a squeeze, before they separate there as well.

It's not a bad thing, not at all. It's very much calming Kane down, the change of pace - and he takes another, much more enthusiastic deep breath before letting go of it long and slow, accompanied by now dark eyes flicking back open as that wide smile just persists, unable to fade away.

Because of course he's still happy, and he will forever be happy about... this. Them. Their babies. Arthur. Their family.

The worry, the concern, even though Arthur has already waved off his own words, needs to be addressed, though - rightfully so. It's kept in mind, and Kane hums before he sinks back against the pillows behind himself, stretching a bit where he is resting...

Maybe he wants to look pretty for his partner right now? Showing off a little. He's with children, after all, and he's... a little bit proud of it, to be honest. It shouldn't have happened, yet two little beans sit within his belly, and that means he's very special, right?

---Arthur is already spoiling him. He always does, granted, but... Kane can tell it's different now, the need of his partner to take care of everything, to make sure they're all doing well.

It's adorable, and Kane falls in love with Arthur all over again, just because of this sweet little moment happening here.

"...I'm actually not that cold - the parts where the gel's sticking to me are feeling a little cool, but... nothing bad." A smile more gentle now, eyes heavy-lidded, dreamy.

"---You look stunning, you know." Kane just has to say it, because he's so utterly obsessed with Arthur's grin; He could look at it for forever, not doing anything else at all, just... watching the love of his life being happy. "You're... glowing. You're happy. I love that. I love that we're both being happy right now."

Does that actually answer any of Arthur's further questions? No, not at all. Kane feels sorry about it, but... it's hard to think when someone so gorgeous is sitting there, so elated, so expressive in such a rare way. "I'm so glad I get to share this with you - all of this. That I... can do this, apparently. That we can have a family...--- I don't know how this has happened to begin with, I agree, and... I'm unsure what it means - what will happen when... when they're due." A pause, smile widening, if that's even possible to begin with.

"...But I'm not afraid, not at all. I... trust us. I trust the world. I trust my body. It will be okay - we will all be okay." Perhapps a bit naive to think such, but... Kane cannot help it.

Arthur couldn’t help but laugh, just a bit - it was low and breathy, barely there, but it was real. Kane was both his mess and his miracle, tangled up in his own joy, spilling love like he had no more room to keep it inside of him. It was… overwhelming to watch, though not in a bad way. 

Arthur felt as if his chest could fold in on himself, if he wasn’t careful. He was filled with too many thoughts, too many feelings, logic and emotion warring in his head for what was most important. Past experiences made him want to focus on logic; he needed to make certain that they were okay. That the babies would be okay, that Kane would be okay, that they had a plan; he felt like he could barely even breathe.

He had fallen in love with the children already - but his instinct was just to protect them.

He ket one hand safely on Kane’s back, slightly sticky with gel. The machine had long since given up on trying to get a clean image - it was nothing but a frozen blur on the screen, slightly off-center. Kane was kissing him too much for him to care, though; everything was growing around him, overwhelming and perfect and wonderful and terrifying - 

There were no words for how it was. Overwhelming was the closest he could think of - overwhelming, impossible to keep track of. 

“I don’t know what we’re doing,” he said when there was finally air between them again, just enough to talk. He wasn’t out of breath, but he felt winded - as if something in the moment had stolen the air from him.

“I don’t even know how to start preparing for this, I… we don’t have a hospital. We don’t have anyone to call, we don’t even know how your, how your biology works, or if you’re changing, or what’s going to change, I just-“ 

His voice cut off, stopping himself. Kane didn’t need all of that, not right now; not yet. Arthur was a natural worrier, someone who wanted to figure things out, wanted to have a plan. Kane never minded, he knew - but he also knew that it was safe to just sit in his emotions, with Kane. He was allowed to just feel emotional - it was encouraged, even. 

Arthur exhaled, both hands moving to Kane’s damp hair, Arthur taking in another shaky breath. “We’ll figure it out,” he amended. “We’ll go find some books, or something.” Arthur knew well enough about things, they’d figure it out - they were good at that. 

“I love you too,” he said again, sincere, around a fond exhale. “And I love them. Already, I mean, I - they're our babies, yeah. They're our babies.” Our babies. Both of them - if Kane said it, then... yeah. Arthur accepted it.

He didn’t need to see the screen again; he looked to Kane’s abdomen, instead, one hand shifting to softly rest on his stomach. It was barely even noticeable, but it was there; two babies. They were real, Kane’s - theirs. 

Arthur’s, too. Arthur’s family. 

The thought shouldn’t’ve made him as emotional as it did - but it showed in his eyes, burning and deep. 

“You must be freezing,” Arthur abruptly remembered, having to snap himself again out of his mind and back to the moment. He pressed another kiss to Kane’s lips, and then one more, before pulling himself away - the machine was just set aside, for the moment, his brain already shifting into wanting to take care of Kane. 

“You should be able to wear my pants,” he continued, grin not leaving his face; he liked elastic waistbands, when he felt like being lazy. They’d be a bit long, probably, but they could fold them up; “We’ll get you cleaned up - do you need anything? Are you hungry?” 

It was impossible to keep himself from grinning, when he knew he was taking care of his family.

[offdxty]

Which Tragic Death Would You Suffer?

Kane

the prophetic hero you die saving the world, as you were always supposed to. peace comes only with your blood. the world will remember you for centuries. they will write poems, create art, and film movies all about you. no one will remember what you were before your death. maybe you don't even know it either. you have spent so long saving the world time after time that there is nothing left of you except the heroism. you die never knowing love.

Santiago

the sacrifice you die saving the thing you love. maybe it is family, friends, perhaps even a cause. they will carry your face with them for the rest of their lives, and every milestone they pass will make them think of you. it does not matter because you won't be there to experience it with them. years down the line, they will meet people who do not even know the weight of your name upon their skin. this is what your selflessness gets you in the end.

Will

the betrayal you die at the hands of the person you love most. maybe there are tears in their eyes as they drive the sword into your chest, maybe there is none. there are certainly tears in yours. your mouth will open to ask 'why' only to spit blood instead. you will die never knowing if they loved you at all, wondering if you could've done something to prevent this, or if it was always going to end this way.

tagged by: @preemptivejustice ♥ tagging: @therapardalis @odditymuse and you! ♥

[offdxty]

To Kane, the fact that Arthur is the one who helped to create them - the two tiny little dots, sitting perfectly happy within their almost as tiny little bubbles filled with liquid - is just... that, a fact. Again, he cannot give any proof for it to be the case, nor is he a doctor, or knows how any of this has even happened to begin with...

But he's having a feeling there - a gut feeling, quite literally. It just makes sense to him, and therefore Kane chooses to believe in this possibility, even if it might not be the entire truth.

Both of them have no idea how he's ended up pregnant, after all - a male body isn't supposed to go through this, usually lacks the organs, no? Yet here Kane is, against all odds, and that ultrasound machine surely isn't lying to them; The swell to his belly has been what caused both men to even consider pulling it out in the first place, next to what they can now call an arrangement of pregnancy symptoms.

Still smiling so widely, utterly enamored by the sight of those little beings, Kane continues to stare at the screen - continues to look, to take in the sight, to even tilt his head a bit as shimmering eyes gaze, observe, like he's trying to see more than there really is.

---Doesn't want to miss anything. Doesn't want to... not-see something that could be amazing, wonderful---

They’ll still be there, even when I turn if off.

...Arthur's right with that one, and Kane blinks before his gaze flicks back up to look at his partner instead - the love of his life, the one he's never wanting to part with, ever. The man who's made it possible to begin with, for them to have such a wonderful life; Traveling, existing inside the most comfortable Van, picking tomatoes and cucumbers while visiting beaches, mountains, forests, deserts...

Had Arthur not broken him out of that facility all those months ago - years, at this point - they wouldn't be here. Kane would most likely be dead, cut-open and dissected, deemed unnecessary to be kept alive after having found out everything they could've ever wanted to know.

But they're here instead, and they're... parents, now. Kane, and Arthur, are going to be fathers, just like that---

Kane is so utterly happy, so incredibly delighted, so, so--- so everything, just everything all at once, that, when those soft words are finally being offered to him - I love you - he just... breaks apart.

In a good way, that is.

But it rolls over him like a wave, causes eyes to glisten and tears to appear, followed by brows furrowing, that smile continuing to exist as tiny sobs of utter gratitude break free. He's not really crying - not in an ugly, serious way, at least - but laughing instead, chuckling and giggling, sniffling and blinking as he gazes at his partner, his face so bright as if the sun itself has manifested onto his curl-framed features.

A swallow, more chuckles, a hand that reaches out and places itself around Arthur's neck - splays there, holds on, as Kane folds into himself and leans over the ultrasound---

Their lips press together moments after, full and emotional, with Kane being so jittery that he misses that mouth at the first attempt, lands on the corner instead, before he corrects his position. It's a little awkward, because their noses get smushed on each other's cheeks, and that gel is still sticking to Kane's stomach and that wand has now definitely moved out of place---

But really, he doesn't care. He just needs to kiss Arthur, needs to be close, needs to somehow put everything he's feeling at this very moment into an act that can bring it all across. At least to a certain extend, that is, because... well, much like words, even actions are limited, and some feelings might never be able to be expressed to the fullest.

Kane hopes, though, that his lover is sensing it all now, as they kiss - his love, his adoration, his gratitude, his affection, all of those warm things that spread and bloom within Kane's chest like a massive flower would.

"...I love you too." A whisper mumbled between briefly parted mouths, but they're pressed together again seconds after - kiss after kiss follows, with Kane unable to stop himself. God, they're going to be dads, he's pregnant, they're twins, they're beautiful--- "---I love you so much. I love you. I love them. I love this. I love--- I love the world, I love... the Universe, for this, for doing this for us---"

Arthur didn’t correct Kane. He didn’t argue, though his eyes almost looked like he could - they didn’t know anything about how the babies got there. Implantation wasn’t proof of shared DNA, spontaneous parthenogenesis is possible in some creatures. Kane was a unique species, and he was something that had seemingly had no way to create offspring; Arthur would have assumed that he could crate life with human women, but that was obviously a flawed line of thinking.

Kane wasn't human. His body was doing something to help him create a lineage.

It could have even been exposure to something - it even could have been the fact that he’d been eating more. Perhaps his body sensed that he had access to more food, and was reproducing based on that. 

… It wasn’t the time for scientific thinking. He needed to allow himself to feel the emotion of the moment, even if his brain wasn’t truly wired for it. 

He swallowed, looking back to Kane; smiling in return as Kane grinned so brightly, Kane looking happy enough to crack something in Arthur’s chest. It was enough to send that overwhelming pressure back into his throat, making it feel tight and too full. 

Arthur looked at Kane - truly looked at him - his eyes widened slightly, lips parted, a little breathless. The air had been knocked out of him, though his brain was keeping him afloat; Kane wanted this. Good - Arthur did, as well. He wouldn’t shun the other for not wanting to go through with it , had that been Kane's choice - they had no idea if it would even work at all, if Kane would even be able to survive such a thing - but… but maybe they both knew that it was going to be okay, somehow. 

Maybe it was thanks to that connection that Kane had to the universe. 

“You’re pregnant,” he agreed. “We’re - yeah. We’re gonna be a family, yeah.” It felt impossible, like something Arthur’s brain didn’t fully want to process. His brain was scattered, he was thinking too much and yet too little - he felt like he was in a dream, in fact. He looked back to the screen as well, just taking in the sight one more time - two babies. 

They were having kids. They were going to be a family. 

It wasn’t Arthur’s first time being part of a family, not at all, but it was his first time actually being there for this part of it. Being involved, if Kane were to be trusted about it - Arthur did think the man was being honest, he had no reason at all to lie, but he also knew that emotions could alter reality. They both wanted something, so why not claim it to be? It was a harmless way of thinking, Arthur was happy to be involved in that way - but it didn't make it true in anything past emotion.

Kane wanted Arthur to be the father. Arthur wanted to be the father too, of course he did - he would be the father. A father, one of the two - still an odd thing to wrap his mind around, but he had grown used to odd things when accepting that he would be living with Kane. Dating him, loving him - Kane was an alien. Nothing could change that.

… They couldn’t keep the ultrasound on for the rest of the day, as lovely as it sounded. They needed to make a plan, logically speaking - they needed a way to track growth, to track Kane’s health. They needed to track everything, just because they couldn’t really go to anyone else to have them do it for him; they were still being hunted, likely actively, if only because of what Kane was. 

... Arthur didn’t allow his thoughts to drift into what would happen if anyone found out about the babies - he wouldn’t let them. 

“They’ll still be there, even when I turn if off,” Arthur said instead; not turning it off, allowing Kane to just sit and look; but acknowledging that his mind wanted to focus on them in a different kind of way. He wanted to lay with Kane, to kiss him and hold him and discuss - but it would require putting this away, getting Kane cleaned up. 

He was aware that his own brain worked differently, and he didn't want to make Kane feel ignored or shunned for it - Arthur just thought logically, rather than emotional.

He was very emotional, however. It showed in the way his smile never left his face, in the way his eyes were shining. In the way his leg had started bouncing slightly - in the way he was already thinking about two little babies, where they'd be safest, how they'd be healthiest.

Today would be dedicated to this. It would be dedicated to staying still, letting the awe settle into his bones, letting Kane smile like that; Arthur was a planner, an organizer, but he recognized well enough that they didn’t have to immediately. For now they could just appreciate what they had, they could love what they’d been given - and it’d be enough. 

"... I love you." It was a rare thing to pass his lips, only said first when he truly felt it, when the emotion overwhelmed him; he loved Kane. He loved him more than anything in the world - and this, jarring as it was, made him happier than he'd been in a long while.

[offdxty]

Sun, Moon, or Earth?

Kane

Moon You’re easygoing and goes with the flows. You’re introverted and calm. You’re tend to be chill.

Santiago

Earth You’re a honest and loyal person, soft hearted and someone to rely on. People are lucky to have you!

Will

Earth You’re a honest and loyal person, soft hearted and someone to rely on. People are lucky to have you!

Tagged by: @preemptivejustice ♥ Tagging: @threemoonflowers and literally YOU.

[offdxty]

Arthur shifts, moves the ultrasound so that Kane can have a better view - tapping knuckles against the screen, showing off the first little blob of grey, followed by the second.

Two little dots, surrounded by dark liquid. Tiny, so impossibly tiny, and yet existent. Alive, inside him - protected by his own body, the tissue surrounding it, to make sure they'll be able to grow into healthy offspring that, at some point, will be born into the world.

---And Kane continues to stare, mouth open, eyes wide, as if his own brain is still very much trying to reboot there - to figure out what to even do with the sudden new information gathered, how to process the whole of what this is.

Those two tiny dots - they are babies. Children. They are... they exist. They are there. And that's why Kane's middle had started to plump up a bit, and...

"...Is that why..." Still sorting through everything, still taken-aback and in utter awe, the hand that had rested on Arthur's thigh moves - slow, a little unsteady, as a finger is pointed at the screen. "...I... I, uhm... the headaches. The... bloating. Heartburn...?"

Pregnancy symptoms. Kane has heard of them before, listened to that one lady many, many months back - they'd visited a beach, somehow ended up chatting with a very pregnant woman, with her having complained, playfully so, about some pregnancy side-effects. Nausea. Fatigue. Pain, every now and then. Feeling bloated. Weird cravings.

Another blink, and those doe-eyes flick up to meet blue ones, as they have so many times before - but the situation they're both in now is so, so different. It's new, it's... it's---

Kane doesn't even know how to describe it. Feelings, so many feelings, mixed up with emotions that seem to eat themselves through his entire system; The dark brown has long since been covered in that rainbow shimmer, portraying the intensity of Kane's thought-process, of what he is currently going through.

Blue, green, yellow, purple, pink, blue, back to blue, more pink, yellow, green--- Oil slick painted across irises, lighter in color, like light shining through a prism.

He's pregnant. Kane is currently with child. ... Or rather, with children. He is... he is---

"You made them."

It doesn't come out as a question, not at all, no - but a statement instead, so soft, as if it has to be handled with the utmost care. Arthur mentions about him being a dad, him having children - but what this means, that Kane is sitting here and currently giving life to two new organisms... --- While he cannot prove it, obviously so, as none of this should be possible to begin with, he's just so, so very sure that Arthur had been the one to put this into him - to make it possible to begin with.

Provided DNA. Allowed Kane's body to take it, to use it, to create something new.

"Without you, we wouldn't---"

And now, that O-shape of lips, finally, turns into something else - into a smile so wide it almost splits Kane's features in half, complete with pearly teeth shining in the dim light, crows feet all wrinkly, nose scunched up the tiniest bit---

"I'm--- pregnant! I'm having twins! We--- we are having them! You, me, we--- we're going to be a family!"

Kane wants this. He's heard it, the fact that Arthur gave him a choice there - but honestly, he doesn't even want to consider the other option. The one where one would---

No. Never. This? The two tiny little beans inside his body? They're a gift. They're the most wonderful thing Kane could ever imagine to have, and he would fight tooth and nail to keep them protected.

No one is going to take them from him. From them both. From him and Arthur.

"...Oh my god. Oh my--- we're... oh god." Gaze now falling to the screen, Kane's staring at it like he's seeing the most precious thing he's ever witnessed in his entire life; he leans forward a bit, which, sadly so, causes his belly to move, to which the two dots briefly shift and seem to disappear--- "Oh no, wait--- there, there..." He moves back, and the babies return. Two perfect little shapes, so symmetrical, so... so pretty.

Even though they're just grey, they're pretty. They're incredible.

Arthur nodded slowly at first, before nodding a bit faster, the grin pulling over his face completely.

“Yeah,” he answered, without hesitating; he kept the wand in place, the two little spots still on the screen. “Yeah - yeah, baby. Yeah.” 

He turned the machine a little bit, shifting his position with it; making it so Kane could see the screen clearly, and so Arthur could sit up close to him. He was still trembling, though fear was quickly being replaced with something else. Excitement? Awe? He didn’t understand how it was possible, because it absolutely wasn’t possible at all - but it was amazing to see. It was gorgeous, perfect - he loved them. 

He didn’t even know them yet, and he loved them. 

“There,” he said softly, pointing gently to the two dark spots. His knuckle tapped on the first little shape, almost hidden in the black, before he pointed to the other one as well. 

“Do you see them? One here, and then…” he shifted his hand, “… one here. That’s - they’re surrounded by fluid, y’know. They’re inside. And they’re defined, they’re symmetrical.” They were tiny, tiny little things, almost impossible to see - it made him wish they had a better machine to look at it with. They could go somewhere, maybe, track down someone who had a better machine - the little babies were a good size. 

“They probably have heartbeats, already,” he softly mused. “I mean, I can’t tell, but…” He could feel it, maybe. They were small, but they were there - they were alive. Little tiny hearts, impossible for their machine to truly pick up on - it was amazing. It was impossible, it was amazing. 

Arthur's voice wasn’t trembling, but it was close. 

He left the wand there, allowing Kane just sit and look for it as long as he wanted. “I don’t know how,” he continued. “I have no explanation. Biologically, it’s impossible, but…” He shrugged a shoulder. A lot of things about Kane were biologically impossible - was it possible for his body to just do these things? To create life, to create babies? Arthur wouldn’t dare think they were his as well, just because that made even less sense - but something had prompted this. 

Right?

...Maybe not.

It was so impossible to know anything, when they had no proof or evidence of anything. Kane was the first of his kind, if he even was a ‘kind’ at all - was this just… how his body had chosen to reproduce? Copying how humans did it, for the sake of survival? That was what organisms evolved to do, nothing was more important than having children, continuing generations - was that what this was? 

Arthur looked back to Kane. They were fascinating questions - but ones that they wouldn’t be able to answer for a while. “You’re gonna be a dad,” he stated, eyebrows raising lightly. "I mean… if you want to be, y’know.” If Kane didn’t want to be, then they would figure something out - but… as it was, he had two little children, happily growing.