"But it wasn't entirely your fault," Casimir said, as he stared down at the bedspread. "I deserve my part of the blame for what happened, and what it led to. You believed the things your tribe told you, and I will never fault you for that. You were seventeen when you ended up there; practically still a kid. And as brave as you are, there is no way you weren't at least half as terrified as I was when I found myself on that planet. I failed to see a lot of my own mistakes until it was too late as well. I was so focused on my own goals that I didn't realize that you hadn't figured out the truth about who I really was, until it was far too late. And I never properly explained anything to you, because I didn't think it mattered. I was used to not explaining myself to anyone, because I was the fucking King. I didn't owe anyone an explanation for anything I did. We both made mistakes, Hutch, and calling yourself a villain is a very narrow way of thinking. First off, that would make me the hero, and we both know that isn't the case, at least not back there. And secondly, for all your mistakes, I only ever witnessed one that was made out of malice, and that was when you clocked Levim, with that glorious right hook. I wish they had cameras on that planet. Because he most certainly had it coming, and it was beautiful."
"Stop doing that," Hutch complained, burying his face in his knees.
"Doing what?"
"Acting like a dad," he replied with a shudder, as he lifted his head. "It's creeping me out. And you shouldn't be trying to make me feel better, you should be angry. You should be kicking me out and telling your wife and daughter that I'm not the hero you made me out to be in your stories."
"You really don't get it, do you?" Casimir remarked, shifting closer to Hutch, and setting his hand on his knees. "I never told them you were a hero. They came to that conclusion on their own. And I'm not about to tell them they're wrong either. You have a lot to consider, but this is your shit to deal with, because I can't make it better for you; not by hating you, and not by treating you how you think you deserve to be treated. You fucked up, Hutch. We all fuck up. Some arguably more than others, but we are all guilty of something. And it's because I am still your friend, that I am telling you this. I'll be available to talk to you as much as you want tomorrow. Tonight, find a way to deal with it yourself. It's your baggage after all, polka-dots, and all. Now get some sleep, you look like shit," Casimir remarked, patting at Hutch's knees before standing from the bed.
"Yeah, thanks. You too," Hutch muttered, before bolting up. "I meant the sleep thing. You always look like crap, and no amount of anything is ever going to fix that."
"Oh, ouch. And just when I was starting to feel a bit sorry for you," he held his hand over his heart as he reversed towards the door. "Pardon me while I go find comfort in my wife's tender loving arms."
Hutch gasped, "really? Damn. Can't say I didn't deserve it though. Go on then. Leave me to my self-loathing."
"Will do. Night Hutch."
"Night, Cas," he replied, and Casimir closed his bedroom door.
Despite his exhaustion, Hutch did not sleep well that night. Once again, he found himself awoken by dreams of the past, and abandoned his bed shortly before dawn. While he'd managed to sleep longer than the previous night, the quality remained lacking.
"I thought I told you get some sleep," Casimir remarked when he entered the kitchen, his lack of a shirt and plaid pajama pants a good indication that he'd just crawled from his bed.
"Huh. Coffee's fresh," Hutch replied from the table, where he was reading the contents of the gossip rag Clara had brought home the night before. "And I did sleep. Your little pep talk managed to put me right out."
"Yet," Casimir remarked, grabbing a clean mug from the cupboard, "you are awake before me. What woke you up?"
"Ensaso's ugly mug," he replied, with a stretch and a yawn. "Wonder how freaked out he was when Lala told him we disappeared?"
"Hopefully, she used tiny words when she explained it to him," Casimir said with a smirk as he filled up his mug with piping hot coffee from the carafe. "I only met him a handful of times, but he never struck me as much of a thinker."
"Oh, that, he is not."
"So, why'd he wake you up? Threatening to stab you in the back or lop off your head?" Casimir questioned as he joined Hutch at the table.
"No idea. My dream wasn't exactly coherent. Lots of guilt and regret tucked away in my baggage to toss around up there while I'm sleeping. Doesn't always make sense. This however," he remarked, closing the paper, and setting it aside, "this makes my dreams look like an award-winning movie. People actually get paid for this crap?"
"They do."
"You decided how you want to handle it yet?"
Casimir hummed as he sipped back his coffee.
"As much as I wish I could do something about it," he remarked, as he lifted his leg up onto his chair, "these journalists, for lack of a more appropriate term, are like hornets. Take a swing at them and they go into attack mode. The last thing we need is for any of them to go snooping around. If they find out who you are, then they can find out about your mother, and what are the chances she won't tell them everything you told her?"
"About the Illimev stuff? Doubtful. She didn't believe it herself and she cares way too much about herself to say anything that others might think is crazy. But if they're willing to pay, she wouldn't think twice about confirming that that's me in the picture, and revealing that I'm related to Celina, even if she didn't believe it when we told her. Honestly, I wouldn't put it past her to go to them first if she thought she could get paid for the information."
Casimir rubbed his hand back through his hair and sighed. "If she does go to them, and they put out another article that is even remotely true, I'll have a press release written up, but until then, I'm more inclined to just ignore it. Otherwise, Celina will bring it up at the next shareholders meeting to assure everyone that it's all bullshit."
"The last thing I want to do is cause any problems for you Cas."
"I know. But this is all just a part of life. People here are bored, they like to make up stories based on a single crappy photo, and gossip about other people's lives. Celina and I have always lived relatively quiet and done our best to stay out of the public eye. But things like this are bound to happen eventually. Look at it this way, they called you mysterious and you made the front page. Not bad for just being a butler."
"I know right." Hutch grinned. "So, tomorrow, when we go to pick up Ren, if you want to leave a bit early, I can try to talk to Cherry. See if she won't keep her mouth shut for the time being."
Casimir shook his head. "I wouldn't risk it. She'll either keep her mouth shut on her own, or she'll go to the paper out of spite, if she hasn't already. But it's completely up to you if you want to see her not. At this point though, I'm more concerned about Brett. Do you think he'd go to the paper to identify you as the guy in the photo?"
"Doubt it. He's more interested in a meeting with you, so I think he'd be smart enough not to risk pissing either of us off. Which makes me wonder if you've given any thought as to what to do about him."
"I have. I'm going to invite him to dinner at the 65th on Monday night. I'm going to have the chef prepare a boar's head," Casimir said as he dawned a devilish grin. "I'd like for you to be there. Keeping up appearances and all that."
"Wow," Hutch remarked with a chuckle, tapping his hand over his heart. "On one hand I'm impressed, even though I know he won't understand the message, but on the other," he lowered his head, shaking it slowly back and forth, "that really hurts. I know it doesn't look like I do all that much around here just yet, but I need you to know that I take my position here seriously. I'll be there on Monday, but nothing about it will be in appearance only. I may just be your butler now, but I'm still a soldier, Cas. New Year's Eve reminded me of how much I miss being one. Well, one of yours anyways."
Casimir nodded as he stared down into his cup. "Fair enough. And I missed you too, Hutch. The First Division just never felt the same after you were gone."