Welcome to Gaia! ::

Lying the middle of his living room floor, Grayson stared at the ceiling, a carefully blank look on his face. There was no one else home, and he was actually happy for that. His parents were at work, both of them businessmen who kept fairly regular hours, and Tristan had looked at him with disgust just over an hour ago and announced that he was leaving him to rot in his own misery.

Tristan just didn't understand.

He couldn't.

There was a knock on the door, and Grayson almost ignored it. After a beat, there was another knock, and he rolled to his side, blue sweatshirt bunching up at the small of his back as he lifted his head and gaze blearily toward the door. As he tried to figure out who it could be, he placed his palms on the carpet, slowly pushed himself up. His arms felt weak; his head a little light.

"Door's unlocked," he managed, sounding weary and defeated. After a moment, the door opened, and Jude stepped through, looking much like Grayson felt.

Defeated.

Sitting up fully, Gray drew his legs up, propping his elbows up on his knees. He stared, violating the Three Second Rule, but for once, there wasn't a comment. They were connected, in that moment. Their hearts ached for the same thing.

He'd never felt closer to Jude.

Expelling a long breath, he said, pained, "Fourteen-one."

There he was, wearing a pair of old jeans that were strained at the knees and the butt, and a Colts sweater that was just a little too big these days. He'd pushed the sleeves up to his elbows, and there was a single black bracelet circling one wrist. He wore no shoes, only socks that he'd stolen from his brother, and the most desolate expression that had graced his face since, well, a long time.

He didn't quite want to stand up, so he merely looked at Jude, then shook his head. Not in disagreement, just the kind of resignation that meant, all things considered -- all things considered -- it was still a damn shame.

They'd done all they could. Grayson had screamed until his throat was raw, had leapt off his couch and grabbed his brother by the collar, shaking him until he was punched in the face for his efforts. He had the beginnings of a black eye now, shadowing one mournful violet one, but he didn't seem to notice. There was a dull ache there, but it wasn't even close to what he felt inside.

The Colts.

14-1.

Somehow he found the energy inside of him to stand, brushing a hand along the back of his neck. He massaged it, lifting his shoulders as though he was going to shrug, then dropped them.

What was there to say?

"They did what they could. They never promised, you know." He sighed, sounding as disappointed as Jude felt. "But you know... God."

So close.

Grayson's temper was something that he kept under wraps if at all possible. In fact, the only one among the Zodiac to glimpse it would be Jude, and even then, it had never been directed at him. At the television, sure, when he was watching a game and he saw a poor call - or watched a receiver just let it slip through his fingers - or wondered where the hell the quarterback thought he was throwing, that's the wrong goddamn jersey there - but never at another person.

When Jude compared him to a fan of the New York Jets, real temper was in his face. He'd been headed to the kitchen, but his shoulders bunched, and his hands curled into loose fists. Grayson was no fighter, but he would have decked him - decked him and a started a fight there was no way to win - if he hadn't apologized. As it was, be barely managed to gather himself back, force the tension out of his shoulders.

A goddamn Jets fan.

"I understand what you're saying, Jude." His voice vibrated; so he hadn't been able to get all the temper out of it. "And I'm just as angry as you are. But there's nothing we can do about it now."

Dramatically, he pointed at the horseshoe on his sweatshirt, hurting himself a little in the process. "This? This means even when they lose, we don't back down. This means we're still behind them, this means we turn our eyes to the Superbowl and say screw the goddamn Jets."

Grayson Graves had swore. Oh, my.

He dropped his hand, and for once, he did the manly thing. He didn't rub the sore spot.

He dragged a hand through his hair, knocking the tie free. "But damn if it doesn't piss me off. I'm disappointed too, Jude."

Grayson reached into the breadbox, pulled out a loaf that he thought his Pop had baked a few days prior. He sniffed it, decided that it was fine, and set it down on the counter. He listened to Jude rant, oddly at peace when there was someone close by who understood his frustration and outrage. He began to set sandwich building items on the counter -- pickles, lettuce, tomatoes -- and only paused to look up incredulously when Jude suggested they use their powers to exact revenge.

The horrible thing was, as he stood there, his eyes went a little blurry. Polian, eh? Bill Polian wasn't the most intimidating figure around. He was getting up there in years, that was for sure, and if he had the element of surprise, he could definitely take him. Even being a mostly inexperienced fighter, he could blind him for a moment, go for his midsection, tackle him to the ground --

"Jude." Eyes wide, he set the jar of mayonnaise down, gave his fellow Colts fan an incredulous look. "I can't believe we're thinking of using our powers for evil."

But was it evil? Was it really evil? As Jude had said, they'd handed that game away. Benched Peyton Manning, Wayne, Clark, Addai.

He shook his head, still a little astonished with himself. "It was unfortunate. But a perfect season doesn't matter if you walk away with the ring. Twenty-three straight," he added, a pride coming into his voice that maybe should have been reserved for those future Colts-loving sons and daughters.

He was already halfway through building a sandwich, and he arched one dark brow at his comrade-in-arms. Jude, suggesting they go patrol? The only possible explanation for this was that he wanted to mindlessly pummel a youma to get rid of all the sports rage that had built up during the Colts vs Jets game. While the idea was appealing, and Grayson was usually more on the side of pacifism that not, he couldn't help but pull a face.

Patrolling? Really?

He looked back down at his sandwich, a pitiful half-formed creation, and resumed building it. "I know, Jude. If Peyton had been playing-" Grayson was on a first name basis with everyone, even people he didn't know. "-there's no doubt, we would have had it. I'm not arguing with you for a second on that. He took it hard, too."

His mouth set into a grim line, and he started layering lettuce over the ham. "We all did. The other fans kind of irritated me - not really sportsman like behavior - but I can understand their frustration."

Sandwich built, he turned, resting his hip against the counter. As he brought it to his mouth, he gestured, indication Jude was welcome to make one of his own if he felt so inclined. "What do you have in mind, by the way?"

Grayson wasn't the type who would go out on his own accord very often, but he felt like he owed Jude. Would always owe Jude.

Besides, patrolling was better than going back to laying on the carpet.

One of the nice things about Grayson was that just about nothing could put him off food. Not even the prospect of running around and fighting a youma, or worse. So, he held his sandwich in one hand, used the other to carefully put away all the ingredients. Because he was a man capable of multi-tasking, this didn't take as long as it might have, though as with anything, he took a leisurely pace.

Life was too short to rush. It might not have made much sense when you first thought about it, but Grayson was a firm believer in taking your time, even with the little things. Especially with the little things.

When he finally had everything back in place, he nudged the door closed with his hip, polishing off the last of his sandwich in the process. (Apparently, the only thing he didn't take time with was actually eating, because he may as well have inhaled the thing.)

"I'm game." He wiped his hands together, then over the top of his thighs, to rid them of any crumbs. "Though, Jude. Do me a favor?"

He gave him a slightly peculiar look. "Please don't ever refer to us patrolling together as bonding again. It's a little... strange."

It wasn't that it made him uncomfortable, exactly, it was just... strange. To hear it from Jude. Though it was Hero's good influence, and Grayson was pleased to patrol with Sagittarius, he wasn't all that eager to discuss the implications of it. If they became better teammates due to Hero's instructions, awesome. Neither of them needed to sit down and talk about how it made them feel.

That was what he had his diary for, anyway.

Offering Jude an easy smile, he lifted his hands, palm up. "Right now, then?"

Henshined up, Leo felt a lot more comfortable next to Sagittarius. Though it seemed silly, as they were still basically the same people, they were nevertheless under their respective guises as Zodiacs, and thus they had a connection that Grayson and Jude didn't have. Well, they had the Colts, and while that was a mighty and strong bond, it didn't quite compare to the reality of risking their lives side by side on a regular basis.

He adjusted his hat, violet eyes scanning the scenery, and began to walk with Jude. As was usual with his own patrols, there didn't seem to be much of anything romping about. In Leo's experience, when things went wrong, they went wrong in a hurry, however, and he remained vigilant. Even if it was a little strange to be out with Sagittarius, he tried his best not to be distracted by the fact, and simply do his duty.

Sagittarius made that a little difficult by talking to him. And about something... personal, even.

Eyes widening, he looked back at his partner with something like dulled panic beginning to curl in his stomach. Normally, Leo was all for discussing feelings, getting to the heart of a problem and sorting things out. Normally, he considered that the best possible solution, actually. But when it was coming from Sagittarius? From Jude?

He just couldn't shake the feeling of how weird it was.

Still, this was less personal and more... business. Yes, he'd said Capricorn and Aries. Leo hadn't heard of any tension between them, but then, he didn't hear much unless someone came to him directly and told him. Elke was usually his source, but he hadn't actually seen her lately.

So, he stared a moment, then looked away. "I hadn't heard that. But, you know, I haven't actually been around... much."

In a way, they were similar. Neither spent much time around the other Zodiacs, though for different reasons.

"What do you know about it?"

Leo suddenly became very interested in a shrubbery. Why he felt such an intense desire to stare at the thing as they walked past, he couldn't say. He just knew his eyes were decidedly drawn to it, and the feeling of awkward intensified about three times at the subject of Jude and Hero being brought up.

Why did everything about Jude make him feel awkward? It must have been because he was dating Hero, who was Hero as well as Aries, and Grayson felt it was really, honestly none of his business. He wanted it to remain so far from his business that he was almost a little desperate about it, actually.

"Oh." There was nothing there, but he nudged the shrubbery with his foot anyhow, finally tearing his gaze away to look up at the sky. Which was still not Sagittarius.

"I'm afraid I don't. Though..." He pictured Capricorn, picture Aries. Best friends, at the core of everything. "Though, I could see why you two dating would be a problem for Capricorn."

Oh God, was he really going to have this conversation? It seemed so... teenage girl.