Work Text:
This is not the first time Aventurine has stood at the ledge of the roof of the Penacony Grand Theatre, on the verge of falling.
He stares down the edge and the lights that illuminate the ground below him. From above, everything seems so orderly. The lights of the city and its residents are but small dots below him that may even be comparable to stars, untouchable and indistinguishable.
Is this what the Nameless see every day? Traversing the cosmos, knowing every day might be their last and they might meet the same fate as the Aeon they follow. Racing like a meteor until it burns against the backdrop of the endless galaxy, burning out in a blaze similar to the stars they chase till the ends of the universe. A life that is risky with a predestined end, but ultimately filled with light and wonder along the way that is left behind in their legacy, serving as an inspiration for even more.
Should he fall now, will he meet a similar fate? Will he go out with a bang when he crashes, a shooting star whose light burns across the universe for millions of years to come? Or will he be just another dot amongst them, fading away in an instant and forgotten just as fast?
Amidst his pondering, a sharp voice cuts across his thoughts.
“I would not stand so close to the edge if I were you. It would be disappointing should you trip and plummet to your death out of recklessness.”
Aventurine heaves a laugh. What else would he be here for? Counting the number of passers-by in the street?
He turns to give a response, but the moment sunset-coloured irises meet his own the remark catches in his throat. The violet hair and gold laurel are unmistakable.
“Doctor,” He smiles. “What a surprise to see you here.”
Ratio frowns at him, moving closer until he is only metres away. “I advise you to move away as soon as possible. Death resulting in a fall from this height is a high possibility, and I believe that is an outcome that can easily be mitigated.”
Aventurine hums in response as he turns his gaze back to the cityscape. “And what if that is the outcome I desire?”
He does not miss how the doctor inhales sharply, or the way his eyes widen ever so slightly. Yet he says nothing and merely stares at the blonde man, waiting.
Aventurine turns back to face the cityscape. “Tell me, doctor,” He continues. “If I were to fall now, who would catch me? I am but a disposable asset to the IPC, and a wildly unpredictable one at that. If anything, I’d say that they would willingly push me off this ledge if it meant they could use my death as leverage against the family to secure Penacony. I have no living relatives, no one who witnessed enough of my life to see me as anything more than an Avgin slave who defied fate by betting against it.”
Aventurine smiles sardonically to himself, watching as the dots below him continue to shuffle about. “The galaxy watches me with bated breath as I roll the dice each time, anticipating the moment my luck finally runs out and the bill for all my past gambles comes rolling in. Why make them wait for the finale at night when they could have a matinee instead? If I fall, my fate will be sealed. But maybe meeting fate is what I want.”
“No.” The voice that interjects is desperate, instantly derailing his train of thought.
“I-,” He pauses. “Excuse me?”
“Your rationale is highly illogical. I will not allow it.”
He turns to face the man, who has moved a lot closer to him and is now standing less than a metre away. Though Ratio’s gaze burns into him, he meets it head-on, challenging him to continue his statement.
Ultimately, the doctor merely closes his eyes and exhales slowly. “Please,” his voice comes out again, but this time in a whisper. Ratio’s hand reaches out and catches onto his wrist. “I would not forgive myself if I watched you burn like this.”
They both fall into silence, unmoving from their current positions. Aventurine’s eyes linger on the doctor who maintains a grasp on him, firm and unyielding. His gaze moves from the doctor’s face to the hand clasped around his wrist and realises that it is trembling slightly, despite the firmness of the doctor’s gaze. A small crack in the doctor’s logical and stoic facade.
They continue standing there, staring at each other as the city bustles below them. Cars drive along on the roads below them, and people buzz on the streets as they bask in the atmosphere of the land of dreams. Time may have paused in Penacony’s dreamscape, but life goes on, he realises. It marches on to its own beat in the form of the dreamers down below, uncaring of the distortion of the eternal happiness that is taking place above them.
How long will they stand there, if Aventurine does not make a move? Will Ratio give up after a while and let go of his arm, walking away like he usually does after talking to someone he deems idiotic and a waste of time? Or will he instead pull Aventurine away forcefully, dragging him off the roof and berating him in his usual fashion? If he does neither, will the two of them just stand there in stasis, one grasping the other but never moving? Would the doctor, known to prize rationality above all else, even stay so long for someone as erratic as him?
Aventurine is not one to shy away from a gamble, but deep in his conscience he fears the outcome in which the violet-haired man across him releases his grip and walks away, leaving him alone to fall freely. Now that he has been made aware of the doctor’s concern, how can he ever face the possibility in which the only person who has ever cared about whether he lives or dies turns away?
Eventually, he lets out a sigh and averts his gaze, finally stepping off the ledge as he moves towards the doctor. Ratio’s grip slides into his palm as he leads him even further away, distancing the two of them from the lights until they are back at the staircase that carried his feet to the roof in the first place. It is only after he closes the door behind them that he speaks again, exhaling a breath that the blonde didn’t know that he was holding.
“You foolish gambler,” Ratio hisses, yet his voice does not contain an ounce of malice. His grip on Aventurine relaxes a little, but he still clings onto him even as he turns away, refusing to look the gambler in the eye.
Aventurine can only give him a sheepish grin in response. “I’m sorry, doc,” He looks down at their hands, which are still intertwined. “I didn’t think you’d care so much about lil ol’ me.” Which is the truth, something he would rarely admit. But he figured that the doctor at least deserved a bit of his sincerity after being so vulnerable with him, willingly or not.
Ratio continues to avert his eyes, seemingly at a loss for words. His next words come out quietly, almost as if he were speaking to himself rather than the man standing before him. “I cannot in good conscience just stand there and watch as you destroy yourself,” He shuts his eyes and exhales shakily. “You believe your life can be gambled away so easily, but the price is not only yours to bear,” He finally looks at Aventurine again, but they are clouded with an emotion he cannot discern. “I for one, would not trade it away for anything, no matter how great the reward may be.”
He tugs Aventurine away from the roof gently as they descend the stairs, through the corridors until they finally reach the ground level of the theatre. Facing the double doors of the entrance, The doctor turns back to him. “Stay with me,” His eyes like the sunrise pierce through Aventurine, daring him to object. “And do not fall behind.”
Ratio’s hand does not leave his own, grasping him firmly as they walk back into the light.