Work Text:
Gustave lurched suddenly back into life, hands still clenched into fists around the handle of the sword that wasn’t there. He almost staggered, his hands slowly lowering as the cool breeze and familiar scents of Lumière hit him even before his eyes adjusted to the world again.
“What-”
He blinked, then blinked again as the world swam back into focus. Before him was…
“Maelle,” he breathed.
She was gazing up at him, eyes welling with tears, and a beat later she was flying into his arms. She knocked the wind out of him as they collided and he couldn’t do anything but wrap his arms tightly around her, burying his face in her hair and holding the sister he thought he’d lost forever as close as he physically could.
“I thought-” she choked out, and Gustave’s heart broke that Maelle had been hurting so badly. He lifted her off her feet to pull her even closer, like she was a little girl again, his hand rubbing gentle circles on her back.
“It’s okay, Maelle. I’m here, I promise.”
She exhaled shakily and nodded.
“You are. And you remember me, I did it right.”
Gustave wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that, but he couldn’t start asking questions when she was in this state. He set her back down on the ground again and released her slightly, enough to be able to look into her eyes.
“Hey, of course I do. It’ll be a cold day in the next life before I forget this adorable little face.” He pinched her cheek playfully and she ineffectually batted at his arm, letting out a half-hiccuping giggle.
Now he was looking at her properly, his eyes widened at the sight of her hair - once fiery red, now a pure snow white. He couldn’t stop himself from gently smoothing it down.
“Maelle, your hair…”
Maelle sniffled and wiped her face with her sleeve.
“Yeah,” she said shakily. “Bit of a shocker, right?” She gave him a small smile and he chuckled.
“Is that why you were worried I wouldn’t recognise you?” he joked. Her face immediately fell and he reached out instinctively. “Hey, no, I was just kidding, I-”
“Gustave,” she looked up at him with those big expressive eyes, the same ones he was never able to tell no whenever she asked for a pastry at the market, and he felt his heart soften even more. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
He didn’t even need to think about it. He could remember the man on the cliffs, Maelle’s blood-splattered face as she tried desperately to break free of the barrier, rushing towards the man with his hand on the hilt of his sword-
“I thought I was dead.”
Maelle gave another hiccuping laugh, but this one sounded a bit more like a sob.
“Yeah.”
Gustave’s heart stuttered.
“I did die, didn’t I?”
Her mouth pressed into a harsh line and she nodded, eyes welling with tears once more.
“But you’re back now, and that’s what matters. Right?”
“Of course,” he soothed, pulling her into another hug. “Of course, Maelle. I’m fine.”
He held her until her sobs started to subside and her breathing evened out. She wiped her eyes on his shirt and he gave her ear a gentle flick for her troubles; she giggled, a proper laugh this time, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
He spotted a bench nearby and guided them both over to it, sitting them down. Maelle curled up next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. They sat quietly for a moment, but Gustave’s brain was whirring.
“Maelle.”
“Hm?” She sat up slightly and looked at him. She looked so similar to the tiny ten-year-old he and Emma had brought home from the orphanage in that moment that he couldn’t help but ruffle her hair. She leaned into the movement in a way she’d never have allowed before the Expedition.
“I need to ask you a question. Is that alright?”
Maelle froze for a second. Then she slowly nodded. Gustave turned to face her properly.
“How did I come back?”
Maelle’s face twisted into sullen annoyance and she huffed.
“Doesn’t matter. You agreed, right? What matters is that you’re back.”
“Maelle.”
She huffed at his warning tone and brought her knees up to her chest, hugging them and resting her chin on one knee.
“Maelle!”
“Fine,” she snapped. “I… guess one of the others would tell you at some point.”
“Tell me what?”
Maelle took a deep breath, and began to speak. As she recounted the events that had occurred since Gustave had- after he was gone, Gustave felt it all wash over him like a tidal wave, crashing him against the shore. Maelle was looking up at him now, searching his face for signs of emotion, hugging her knees tightly. Gustave exhaled.
“So you’re…”
“A Paintress? Kinda.” Maelle looked down at the bench.
“And Verso?”
“He’s in the town. I let him have the bakery until I repaint Mathilde.”
Repaint. She was saying it so simply, like it was a normal fact of life and not creating an entire life out of thin air. He didn’t even know if she knew Mathilde, outside of seeing her across the counter as he paid Mathilde for the pastry Maelle had begged him to buy her. How could she recreate someone she barely knew?
“And what about you?”
Maelle shifted. “What about me?”
“You said your father was trying to get your mother out of the canvas because it was killing her. Will… staying here hurt you too?”
Maelle’s eyes darkened and she hunched away from him.
“I don’t care what happens to Alicia. Out there, I had no life anyway. She can rot for all I care.”
Gustave felt his heart run cold.
“Maelle, you’ll die!”
“Better to die in here than live out there.”
“Maelle.” He stood upright, taking two steps away from the bench. “You can’t just - you’re not thinking straight.”
“I’m the only one thinking straight about this!” Maelle jumped up, matching his gaze. Her little face was creased with rage. “I saved everyone! I saved them! Verso was going to let the canvas be destroyed!” Tears started streaming down her face again and she took two steps towards him. “Why are you acting like this?”
“Like I don’t want you to die, Maelle?” Gustave gestured harshly. “Like I don’t want you to wither away in here?”
Maelle looked up at his face, then back down again.
“I must’ve done it wrong,” she muttered to herself. “Gustave would- he’d understand. I did it wrong. You’re not him, not really.” She reached out towards him.
“Maelle, what are you-
Gustave lurched suddenly back to life. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust, but once they did, he saw…
“Maelle,” he breathed.
She looked up at him with tearful eyes.
“Gustave?” She looked down, almost shyly. “Do you… remember what happened?”
Gustave wracked his memory. It was a little hard to grasp exactly, but he could see flashes of it in his mind’s eye.
“We were on the cliff. The man from the beach was there. I think…” he paused, taking a deep breath. “I thought I’d died.”
Maelle flew into his arms. She knocked some of the wind from him as she did so but he didn’t mind, wrapping her up tightly in his arms and holding her close.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m here. You’re okay.”
“It’s really you?” Maelle half-sobbed, so much so that he had to strain to figure out what exactly she’d asked. He nodded.
“It’s me, I promise. Hey, I probably smell real enough, right?” His attempt at a joke was weak but it got her to half-giggle and that was the main thing.
“I missed you,” she mumbled. Gustave gently led them over to a bench and sat down; Maelle curled up next to him and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Well, I’m not going anywhere. You’ll be sick of me soon,” he grinned. Maelle clung to him like she was a little girl again and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“Gustave?” She said after a few moments. Gustave looked down at her.
“Hm?”
“If I tell you something, you won’t get angry, will you?”
“Of course not,” he said automatically. Part of him wondered if that was necessarily true, but it was better to be gentle with her when she was clearly upset like this. Maelle took a deep breath and began to speak.
By the end, it was as if someone had thrown a bucket of water on him unexpectedly, leaving him shivering and confused. Maelle looked up at him, eyes searching his face for some sort of tell.
“Why aren’t you saying anything, Gustave?”
“I…” He blinked once, twice, three times. The pieces weren’t quite fitting together and he blinked again.
“You brought me back… by painting me?”
Maelle nodded.
“And Verso tried to stop you?”
“He wanted to die,” she said, eyes darkening. “He would damn the whole of Lumière so he could die.”
“But… you kept him alive?”
“Because he’ll see it my way soon,” Maelle nodded. “He’s been suffering for so long, he doesn’t remember what it’s like to live in a world where he can be happy. We can all be happy here.”
Gustave found himself nodding, although he was sure he didn’t tell his body to do that, nor was he sure he actually believed it.
“But surely-”
“Gustave.” Maelle reached out and took one of his hands in both of her own. “It’s fine! He’ll be happy soon, he just needs to… get used to it.”
Everything in him was screaming to just nod and hug his sister tightly again, but something just didn’t feel right.
“Maelle,” he said firmly. “This is serious. This isn’t a decision you can just make for somebody else, I didn’t… I didn’t raise you like that, Maelle. We need to talk about this properly, with Verso.”
Tears began to trickle down Maelle’s face again and it screwed up in a desperate attempt to stop them.
“Why can’t I just get it right!” She sniffled, wiping desperately at her face with her dirty sleeve. “I wanted you to be him, why aren’t you him?”
Gustave took a step forward. “Maelle, what are you-”
Gustave came back to life.
It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust, but once they did, he saw…
“Maelle.”
She was looking up at him desperately, body shaking with sobs. Gustave blinked at her. Maelle flew into his arms. He felt his body get knocked a little with the impact and he hugged her tightly.
“Please be real,” she sobbed into his chest. “Please be him. I tried so hard, you have to be him.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “You’re okay.”
Her face was streaked with dirt and snot and tears and it should have been a harrowing sight. He patted her on the back.
“I’m here,” he said.
“Gustave,” she choked out, soaking his shirt with her tears. He didn’t really feel it but he knew it was happening. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wrong before, I was trying so hard and-”
“It’s okay,” Gustave said. “You don’t have to worry about any of that now. I’m back and we’re together again. That’s what matters.”
Maelle sniffled. “We’ll be happy, right?”
“We’ll all be happy here,” he said like a recital. Maelle let out a shuddering breath and buried her face in his shoulder. Gustave looked downwards and smoothed down her hair.
Her hair was white. What colour had it been before? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it had always been white.
It was probably best not to worry.
