#funny how lalnable is the only person xephos can be honest with even after all this time. surely that means nothing

[spacemanxephos]

potential thoughts for Fun,

along the lines of the gray hair stuff, lalnable being actually slightly concerned that xephos hadn’t fixed - or can’t fix - what should be an easy thing for his clones, with what the hairs really mean

there is not a chance in hell that lalnable will allow himself or five to be hooked into the cloning processes of yoglabs/there is interference between their clones due to proximity with yoglabs etc.

Lalnable studies at Xephos intently. Something is… different. It’s been different since the moment he came back to the lab, of course, but as he stares at Xephos there’s just something he can’t put his finger on. Something that’s changed.

After a few minutes, Xephos, feeling the other’s eyes on him, sighs heavily and looks up at him. “Can I help you?”

“You’re graying,” Lalnable remarks bluntly.

“What an astute observation,” Xephos replies flatly before looking back down at his computer.

Lalnable ignores him. “You’re graying,” he repeats with more emphasis, hoping Xephos will catch what he’s saying this time.

The other man sighs and glances up again, gently massaging his temple with one hand. “People gray. I really don’t see why that’s such a big deal,” he shrugs noncommitally.

“We have clones. We don’t age. But you’re graying,” Lalnable strains the word again.

Xephos raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘And?’

“You really don’t see how those two concepts conflict, at all?” Lalnable deadpans. “I know you’re a bit dull, but clearly-“

Xephos is rubbing both his temples with irritation now. “Lalnable, unless you have something useful to add to this conversation, I really need to finish this report,” he grumbles with a note of finality. The conversation is over.

Lalnable’s eyes narrow.

It’s not that hard to obtain some of Xephos’ hair. Lalnable stalks from a doorway in a hall he knows is on Xephos’ daily route. Xephos is nothing if not a man of habit and Lalnable knows he hasn’t changed his patterns. Lalnable still knows the paths he takes each day very well.

It’s not too soon after Lalnable picks his perch that Xephos appears. His face is buried in a stack of papers, but he still dodges the chaos of the hallways with practiced ease.

Once Xephos rounds the corner, Lalnable smoothly falls into step behind him.

Xephos yelps sharply as Lalnable yanks his ponytail from behind, targeting a strand with a larger streak of gray. He feels several hairs snagged in his fist.

“Oops,” Lalnable shrugs with a crocodile grin, folding his arms behind his back. “Couldn’t resist.”

Xephos glares at him as he fixes his hair. “Really? What are you, six?”

“Just had an urge to torment my favorite alien bastard,” Lalnable bats his eyes and leans just a tad closer. Just close enough to distract the alien as he pockets the strands of hair.

Xephos purses his lips. The light blue blush on his cheeks and his averted eyes are all Lalnable needs to know that he’s gotten away with the deed.

“Just… just get back to whatever you’re supposed to be doing,” Xephos huffs and shuffles away quickly.

Still got it, Lalnable thinks with a smirk.

Lalnable observes the strands under a microscope he steals borrows from the chemistry lab. The cells appear to be the right age to match how old Xephos body should be. There’s no signs of abnormalities; they seem perfectly healthy.

Except for the gray ones.

Lalnable inspects them further and scribbles down several notes. It was going to be a long night.

Hours later, Lalnable struts into Xephos’ office. It’s 2 a.m., but he knows the man will still be up working- and he is, hunched over his desk in the dim light of his table lamp. Lalnable shoves a manilla folder into his face. Self-satisfaction and irritation blend on his face.

Xephos’ eyes flicker from the folder to Lalnable. He quirks a questioning brow.

“There’s a chemical called norepinephrine in your hair follicles,” Lalnable explains. “It’s what’s causing the pigment cells in your hair to stop working- why your hair is turning gray.”

Xephos’ face twists with exasperation and he rolls his eyes. “Really, this again-“

“If there’s something wrong with the clones I need to know about it!” Lalnable growls. “You’re putting Five and I and everyone else in danger by ignoring a fault-“

Xephos throws his hands up with frustration. “It’s not a problem with the cloning, Lalnable! It’s me, the inside me, that’s the problem. It’s stress, that’s why the chemical is there! The doctor’s say it’s just stress!” Xephos exclaims.

Lalnable scoffs. “Please, Princess, we all know you don’t actually do enough around here to actually be that stressed-“

“Yes, I do, actually!” Xephos snaps, shooting up from his chair. The glow on his cheeks is blindingly bright now. “I do a lot, in fact!

“You think I’m not worried? I’m constantly worried! No one can manage a day here without me without something catching on fire or exploding or someone dying! I can’t stop being vigilant for a second or else something goes wrong! I can never fucking stop!” Xephos is shouting by the time the tangent ends.

Just as quick as the fury erupts, it fades. Xephos’ anger was always like that- fiery and sharp, but never long lasting. He pants heavily as the flames ebb and he calms down. Defeat and exhaustion is evident on his face as he slumps back in his chair.

Lalnable leans back against the wall and crosses his arms. He stares at Xephos.

“Holding that back for a while now, huh?” Lalnable murmurs.

Xephos swallows and moistens his lips. His eyes are focused intently on a pen on his desk. “Yes, I suppose so.”

He falls quiet. Lalnable can see Xephos’ hands are still trembling slightly. There was blue blood on his fingers from where he had picked and chewed the flesh around his nailbeds too much. Lalnable fleetingly wonders how it tastes.

Lalnable should have been laughing. He should have been reveling in his enemy’s misery and taunting him for his hubris finally catching up to him. If someone had asked him afterwards, that’s certainly what he would claim he did.

But, he doesn’t. Instead, he stands there leaning against that blasted sterile, white wall in that blasted sterile, white office with Xephos, in silence. It feels disturbingly familiar, reminding him of when Xephos used to come and sit in his cell in a similar manner, or he would sneak out and go to his office. Be silent in each other’s presence, without any pressure to speak.

They stay there for a long time.