Work Text:
It's 3am and Riz is in his office, barely awake but trying to work. He knows it's not good, knows he's made half a dozen pacts to get some damn sleep, but hey. What else is new.
He leans back in his chair, stretching his wrists, which are sore from both writing and typing. His laptop's fan hums softly, the only other sound coming from the desk lamp. He pushes his notebook to the side, sending his pencil onto the floor.
His briefcase is under his desk like always, right up against the left leg. It stops his pencil from going too far, but he still has to duck out of his chair to retrieve it.
"Hello, Riz Gukgak."
Bone-white fingertips emerge from his briefcase, inches away from his face as he grabs the runaway utensil. He starts, hitting his head on the underside of the desk.
"Tsk tsk, you should not be scared of your Romance Partner." Baron's sing-song voice echoes in the small space. "I would not want to be offended by you."
"Then leave me alone."
"We both know that I cannot do that. Not until you stop being so afraid." Baron's head has followed their hand, and they contort wildly to unfold from the case while still under the desk.
"I'm not afraid," Riz grumbles, resuming his place in his chair. Normally he ignores Baron, as best he can. But it's late and he's frustrated with his homework, so arguing doesn't seem like such a bad idea.
"Yes you are, Riz Gukgak. You are afraid of many things."
"I've killed so many dragons."
Baron laughs, shrill and jarring. "No, you're not afraid of dragons. You're afraid of your friends. What would they think if they knew, hmm?"
"Okay, I'm not afraid of my friends."
"No? You are not afraid of them choosing others over you? What happens when you graduate? When they all have fulfilling lives of their own? When, one at a time, they fall in love and forget about you, their goblin friend?"
Baron moves out from under the desk, their arms around Riz's shoulders without touching him. "Or, if not that, then when they find out how different you are from them?"
Riz throws his arms back to knock Baron away, but they're too quick, and instead he finds himself face-to-face with them as they crouch on his desk.
"Will you stop it? I'm not stupid, you know. I- I'm aromantic, that's all. And my friends aren't jerks."
"Oh, look who got a vocabulary lesson. Interesting, though, you haven't told your friends about your little discovery."
"No, I haven't had time. We're all really busy."
"Yes, busy. Just like how it will be when they find love-- the real kind, not whatever imitation you can offer them."
The chair screeches as Riz stands up. "Listen, Baron. I know you're just Cassandra's personification of my fear, but you're not helping me, and you're not right. Leave me alone."
Baron chitters, a noise somewhere between and songbird and clacking teeth. "But what happens? What happens when they fall in love? When you are no longer the most important person to Fabian, when-"
Riz throws his hands up. "I don't know!"
For the first time, Baron looks genuinely hurt by Riz's words. They shrink back, curl in on themself like they've been punched in the gut.
"I don't know," Riz repeats. "I don't know the future, cause I'm not the fucking Oracle, and even if I was, that's not even how it works. And I don't care, because I trust my friends."
Baron chatter and stutters, half-formed questions interrupted by pained yowls like an out of tune violin.
Riz covers his ears to block the noise. "I don't know," he says, just to see. Baron doubles over further, and Riz's detective brain is connecting clues with thread. Baron was made by Cassandra, when she was corrupted. Of course accepting the unknown hurts them.
He presses his hands tight over his ears, chanting it like a prayer under the Baron's sounds of pain. "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know."
The desk lamp flickers and goes out, but the room remains lit. Something like the silvery streetlights through the window has replaced it, surrounding Riz. His breath glows as he continues to chant, and he keeps his gaze firmly on Baron.
Cracks have begun to appear across their body; their hollow eyes widen and splinter. The cool glow of starlight overtakes them, forcing Riz to close his eyes as Baron shatters like pottery in a too-hot kiln.
And then it all stops, and Riz gasps for breath, and falls into deep, dreamless sleep.
He wakes up late the next morning, on the floor of his office, limbs sore. He opens his crystal to a series of missed alarms and text from Kristen: hey, why the fuck does my god have a child she claims you gave her?