"Feelings aren't going away, dude." Braig said, sprawled out across the bed in their lovely eleventh story flat. Dilan was mostly tucked under the blankets, stroking Braig's hair absently while reading. The words, though, made him set his book aside.
"Conclusions, love?" he asked, turning half over and shifting down so that their faces were on the same level. He'd come out of the whole event far more easily than his lover, a couple of therapy sessions with the department shrink to deal with the mild trauma of having been stuck in the pose of Breaker for two years. Braig, however, had been in bi-weekly sessions from the day they came out as he struggled with the need to pull himself out of a persona that had been so easy to drop into because he felt that it was what he would have been if he hadn't had his fierce mother and his Dilan as he grew up in this nasty world.
It was hard to not talk to Aya. It was hard on both of them, but Dilan hadn't wanted to until Braig could, because it wouldn't be fair to his lover. Both of them were under the assumption that the other one had let Aya know what was going on; a rare miscommunication.
"I want her." Braig said simply, "I miss Aya, the smart, brave, tough Mitochondrial that we lived with for two years. I want to go to the opera with her, I want to help her wash Sheeva, I want to be able to look at her face if I turn my head one way just as much as if I turn the other I know you'll be there."
"What does the shrink say?" Dilan asked curiously, and cautiously.
"She says that as far as she can tell I'm as sane as I went in, and have myself all figured out again."
Dilan's smile was white in his face, and he bopped the other man lightly on the shoulder, "Awesome. Go call her. Tell her my retirement party is in two weeks." He'd been waiting on that until seeing Aya wasn't a raw wound on Braig's nerves because he wanted her there.
"Conclusions, love?" he asked, turning half over and shifting down so that their faces were on the same level. He'd come out of the whole event far more easily than his lover, a couple of therapy sessions with the department shrink to deal with the mild trauma of having been stuck in the pose of Breaker for two years. Braig, however, had been in bi-weekly sessions from the day they came out as he struggled with the need to pull himself out of a persona that had been so easy to drop into because he felt that it was what he would have been if he hadn't had his fierce mother and his Dilan as he grew up in this nasty world.
It was hard to not talk to Aya. It was hard on both of them, but Dilan hadn't wanted to until Braig could, because it wouldn't be fair to his lover. Both of them were under the assumption that the other one had let Aya know what was going on; a rare miscommunication.
"I want her." Braig said simply, "I miss Aya, the smart, brave, tough Mitochondrial that we lived with for two years. I want to go to the opera with her, I want to help her wash Sheeva, I want to be able to look at her face if I turn my head one way just as much as if I turn the other I know you'll be there."
"What does the shrink say?" Dilan asked curiously, and cautiously.
"She says that as far as she can tell I'm as sane as I went in, and have myself all figured out again."
Dilan's smile was white in his face, and he bopped the other man lightly on the shoulder, "Awesome. Go call her. Tell her my retirement party is in two weeks." He'd been waiting on that until seeing Aya wasn't a raw wound on Braig's nerves because he wanted her there.