[PCA] UNIVERSAL CONSTANTS

[skinstealer]

[id: A photograph of a much younger Charon and a rose-headed figure next to him lays on a corkboard, pins and twine connecting more photos out of frame. Blood lightly trickles from his mouth.
Text reads:
UNIVERSAL CONSTANTS
Episode 7: Sel(ves) Love]







...Something was wrong.





He didn't know what, or how-
-but something had gone terribly wrong.












Gone.











When Charon had come out of the locker room, Maes had just- gone.

The usual spot at the break room table where she would wait for him was empty- no sign of anyone having even sat in the chair.

It was just a tiny thing. A small change in routine that they'd had for what felt like both such a short period and a long one, something that most people wouldn't even think of.










She had waited for him every time.









Maybe she was running late. Maybe she just- fell behind in her own decontamination. Needed a breather. She had looked like shit coming out of there, something hollow about her expression even through the visor.




He had tried to comfort her on the way to the elevator, only to get a complete non-reaction in the process.





He told her they could catch up after cleanup and get some well-needed rest together.














He waits and he chair remains empty.






Stay or go. If she needed him back at her place, he was neglecting her there. If she was just delayed, he would be leaving her behind. Was she going to be okay navigating after that? She had stumbled as she walked back to the rehab center, body shaking despite her attempts to cover it up.








No amount of chest pain and staring at the chair makes his partner manifest.













....

























He chooses to go to the apartment.







The hallways are the same. Every bit of floor tile and carpet and pristine, well maintained surface haven't changed at all, but there's a lump in his throat that grows. Passerbys greet him, knowing him as the charming knight who visits the Director and makes her smile-












Maes' door lays in front of him.












As Charon reaches for the handle, the door swings open- no one there.











The apartment door is unlocked.

CHARON: ...Boss?







 

No response.








He steps inside, tail plates audibly shifting around.

One of the kitchenette's chairs had been thrown to the side, other furniture jostled and shoved out of place, the bathroom door flung open-









-and a lump made of all of the blankets and sheets on the bed, tightly curled and making indiscernible noises.
Black sludge bleeds through, leaving dark, blotted stains.

CHARON: ....
CHARON: ...Is it okay if I stay with you right now?

 

The lump curls up tighter.

[id: A person-sized lump under black-stained blankets, Charon looking down at it with a deeply distressed grimace.]

CHARON: ...I can leave you alone too if it'd be easier.

 

Tighter, a little noise of distress.

The dog makes his way over, patting the side of the bed.

CHARON: Then I'll keep you company until you can come out.
MAES: Nnn.

 

Even then, she seems to untense just a bit.

CHARON: Felt wrong having you so scarce at the end of the day...

 

Her words are muffled, but clearly very, very unhappy.

CHARON: I was worried.

 

Fumbling, only for the cat to allow her snout to peek through.

MAES: I-
MAES: I already made enough mess.
CHARON: We all knew it'd be a risky job, I'm just glad everyone got out fine.
MAES: .....
MAES: This...isn't fine.
MAES: This is the exact- it's-
CHARON: Something we'll have to handle, and we'll do so together.
MAES: You could have DIED-

 

Her voice cracks.

CHARON: I know.
MAES: I-
MAES: I could have lost everyone, the whole program, residents, you, everyone, all because- b-because of my idiotic-
CHARON: We picked a crew that had the best chance of survival, made a crucial discover, and now can sit and assess how to navigate it in the future.
CHARON: What matters here next is how you're willing to address what was found.
MAES: H-how can you be so calm?!
MAES: I fucked up, Judgment!
CHARON: Days like these are a expectation I operate under, a occupational hazard no different than you having to bare the bulk of responsibility for this entire facility.

 

Charon sits himself on the side of the bed.

CHARON: But my expectations are a chosen torture, I signed up for this.
CHARON: You didn't get a chance to pick.
MAES: You-

 

Maes sniffles, a little trace of black sludge still on her lip.

MAES: You didn't sound like you s-signed up for this.
MAES: Not with that thing.
CHARON: If I had no idea there'd be days like this, I wouldn't be standing here right now.
MAES: And what if y-you had lost?!
MAES: What if you weren't standing?
MAES: What would have happened then!
CHARON: You wouldn't be here either, and I wasn't remotely willing to let that happen.
MAES: Willing doesn't mean you're i-invincible.
CHARON: No... but that thing and myself are the same type of being.
CHARON: If it could hurt me, I can absolutely do the same.
CHARON: What I wasn't expecting is something this full of targeted hate that even being associated sent it off.

 

She flinches.

CHARON: When two fiends clash, emotions meld for a moment.
CHARON: You are not its true fixation, but you're pretty close to the blast zone.
MAES: Too close.
MAES: People could have gotten- it's still down there-!
CHARON: Something to keep an eye on... it can't find its way out because it doesn't understand its real target is dead.
MAES: ..I can't bring back my mother for it to kill.
CHARON: You cannot.
CHARON: It's incredibly raw, still not quite fully formed, and desperately seeking catharsis.
MAES: Then what?
MAES: I can't have the program therapists come down and get disemboweled!
CHARON: I'll be the one to go down and reason.
MAES: Judgment.
CHARON: Now that I've fought it once, it can't jump me twice.
MAES: Judgment, you're-
MAES: You can't just-
MAES: What if you lose?!
CHARON: I've seen inside its head and it's looked into mine. As of now I am the one person who understand it most and it knows that.
MAES: I-
MAES: I can't just-
CHARON: We don't need to resolve this now.

 

Maes curls up tight, hiding her snout again.

CHARON: ..What would you want to do?
MAES: I- I don't know-

 

The blankets rustle, the movement catching Charon's eye. The dark stains on the sheets are especially prominent on the lower half of her body, freshly wet and smearing.

CHARON: ...Are you sick?
CHARON: ...Hurting yourself?

 

She makes an unpleasant whimper.

CHARON: It's okay, just... talk for now.