Missing a Piece of Himself (Closed)

[oyaji]

Characters: Kotetsu T. Kaburagi oyaji and Barnaby Brooks Jr. baniichan
Date: Backdated to early November
Location: Kotetsu's treehouse
Situation: Despite his childish excitement, it finally comes crashing down that he isn't going home and will never get what he had back, like his wedding ring.
Warnings/Rating:

He was ashamed to admit how many days it had taken him to notice that something was missing. His hands, now that he was out of his suit, were naked. A faint line of lighter skin wrapped around his left middle finger, catching his eyes every single time he brought his glass of ale up to his mouth.

It also wasn't making him very good company. His usually exuberant energy had been drastically subdued once he realized he couldn't get what he wanted back. Even with his partner nearby, it was hard to bolster much in the way of enthusiasm expect for a few "Ah" or "Mmnn" every once in awhile. The Hero wondered if he should just tell Barnaby to leave for the day since he wasn't being anything more than a wet blanket. That way Kotetsu could just brood on his own terms, but he really didn't want that. As much as he seemed to wallow in it, the man didn't actually like being alone with his troubled thoughts. So he hoped his partner wasn't too bored of his stagnant funk, because he had no intention of letting him leave just yet.

Comments

[baniichan]

Barnaby wasn't bored so much as he was very much aware of Kotetsu's reluctance to engage with him -- or much of anything, really. Even from the very beginning of their partnership, Barnaby has been able to read the man like a book. Now that they knew each other as well as they did, that wasn't any less true.

Honestly, though, outright asking the man about it wasn't going to do them any good. Getting Kotetsu to talk about himself was like pulling teeth. Besides, it wasn't like Barnaby didn't already know a big part of the problem. The man had been ripped from everything he knew, from the job that defined so much of who he was, and from his precious daughter. No wonder Kotetsu was so desperate to keep himself distracted. But Barnaby knew things always had a way of catching up to you, no matter how much you tried to run from them.

Unfortunately, Kotetsu was awfully good at running, which meant painfully prolonging the inevitable.

Lowering his own drink now, Barnaby glanced over at his partner. "I'm...sure there's a way back home," he finally said. It was a clumsy attempt to comfort him, but it was also the best he could do at that moment.

[oyaji]

Yeah, it wasn't a very good comfort, but at least Barnaby had tried. He appreciated the sentiment, even if he turned right around and laughed humorlessly instead. "Yeah. Maybe." It was a sad day when Kotetsu was the one feeling the more cynical out of the two of them. There were astrophysicist, engineering geniuses, and Heroes who could use NEXT-like powers to practically bend time and space to their will. None of them had figured out how to get home yet.

[baniichan]

"No, I'm certain there is," Barnaby said, sounding more sure of himself now. "They brought us here, they can put us back. The catch is that we'll likely have to play along with the Emperor's game until she's satisfied. We take up space and resources, and the locals view us as outsiders, so I have a hard time believing they'd want to keep us here forever."

No matter how he looked at it, he couldn't think of enough benefits of keeping them here once the threat to Keeliai was neutralized.

[oyaji]

"Well, then when's this war or whatever supposed to happen? Waiting around is not what I do!" It only made him feel more impotent. There was nothing worse than an impending threat looming on the horizon and the only course of action was to wait for it to come to you. That was no way to act! You should be taking the fight to the criminal! Sure, it was a little more risky, but there was nothing to be gained by letting the aggressor hit you first! They were all brought here as some kind of Hero, even if they didn't all have powers.

That meant that the Emperor should then let Heroes do what they do best: Fight and save! They were built for heroics and sacrifice, not waiting for their skills to rust.

[baniichan]

Lapsing into silence, Barnaby's gaze trailed toward the floor again. Ultimately, it was true that they had very little control over what happened to them at this point. Barnaby was of the mind that he either had to accept it and do his best to make a life for himself here, or commit every fiber of his being to finding a way to escape from this place. Seeing how the latter was looking more and more impossible each day, complaining about it wasn't going to do them any good.

But Barnaby also didn't have much in the way of personal attachments when it came to Stern Bild. The only things waiting for him back home were a few gravestones and a job that, at the end of the day, was pretty much just like any other job, except it gave him the satisfaction of working alongside Kotetsu.

Kotetsu, on the other hand...

"I'm sorry that there isn't more I can do right now," he confessed.

[oyaji]

"It's fine!" he waved his hand flippantly at his partner to keep him from continuing down a road that would get them nowhere. If Kotetsu wanted to bemoan his lot in life, he didn't want to drag his partner into agreeing, just listening. Comforting. It didn't do either of them if they were both bogged down in misguided guilt. That was his job.

"It's not like you're responsible for this... It's just--" His hand started fiddling with the skin around his ring finger again as if the act would bring the wedding ring back into existence. "I mean if I could have been warned like two minutes beforehand, so I could grab what I needed..."

[baniichan]

So he could grab his wedding ring, in other words. Barnaby could easily see the way the man kept touching the place he normally wore it, as if he expected to find the silver band there out of habit.

"I understand," he slowly said. "I feel the same way." Barnaby didn't like not having anything to remember his parents by. Even under the best of circumstances, he was afraid his memories of them would grow fainter with each passing day. Now he didn't even have a photo of them anymore.