AN: Oh man. Ohhhhhhhh man. Wow. Look at this. I did it. I actually updated this thing. This is crazy. Am I imagining this? Is this really happening? I'm not sure. Christ, I think this really is happening. Hopefully I'll continue to start to update this again. I know someone's going to whine that I update after months of not touching this and it's not even a Jack and Jeff chapter, but I literally do not care. Everyone needs to understand that I have this story in a certain order in my head, and this bit is what came next. I don't just stick whatever in wherever. That's just how it is.

Don't like it, again, I don't care, I'm just excited to be updating it at all. That's a big deal to me. I'm terrible with continuing projects, but I'm doing this again. I'm happy about that. A lot of what this fanfiction actually is, is me testing if I can carry on an interesting story with a large cast of characters and multiple plots. It's a rather successful feeling test.

This stupid chapter took a few days to get right. I actually tried to start writing this chapter months ago, but it didn't sound right then either. Because I was writing it from Winston's perspective. I switched over to Cyril's perspective for the first time, and it started flowing.

Uh, warning, Cyril is gross. Cyril is really really gross and I'm not sure if I like him or hate him. He's so gross. A part of me does actually like him /because/ he's an unapologetically unpleasant guy. Sigh. None of my characters are completely 'good guys' or 'bad guys', though, just people. I try to explore all sorts of different personal moral systems (or lack of moral systems) with my writing.

This is 7 pages long and 3,801 words. That's a pretty decent length, I think. The line I picked out from this for the chapter title works well, too. Might wanna reread chapter 46 for this.

"Winston, this is utterly fantastic! For me, this is- the best luck I've had in months! This is going to-" Cyril choked, as his gushing was cut off by the hand at his neck. He was being slammed up against the wall of the back room they'd returned to. He remembered that logically, he didn't need to breath all that much, but it threw him off for a second. Still, a laugh bubbled up in his throat as he watched his object of fascination through fluttering eyelashes.

"Don't speak too soon, Cyril," Winston said with a tight, grim smile. "As delighted I am with scientific discoveries, having them in your hands isn't something that seems to end well. You understand."

"So," Cyril said, shifting slightly, trying to make it so he could talk a little easier. He rested his hands, which had been dangling at his sides at first, on Winston's chest. The other loosened his grip a bit, but didn't let Cyril go. Not like he expected him to. Not like he exactly wanted him to. Being touched by Winston definitely wasn't undesirable, no, not even if the touch was hostile. "...what are you planning on doing, then? How would you go about stopping me from doing what I please?"

Winston's mouth twitched, eyes flickering down at the hands on his chest briefly, then back up to Cyril. "I'm thinking about it," Winston said, flashing a patronizing smile. "And I'm sure I'll come up with something eventually. Always do. Until then, I'll just hold you here so you can't mess anything up. You look better like this, anyway."

Cyril sighed, offering a sheepish grin. "Winston, uh, this doesn't change anything. I still want you… to be on my 'side'! Yes. I've worked way too hard already to not still feel that way. I want to help you. But maybe you could give back a little now? Let me off on this. I need this. I need the advantage of having found this. Anyway, what do you really expect to do? You could get rid of my guards and guests, but what about me?" He was silent for a moment, raising his eyebrows skeptically. "What can you actually do to me, Winston Blair?"

"...You know, I think I really do hate you, Cyril. Truly, I do," Winston said slowly. "Everything that comes out of your mouth is oh so self-assured, and there's something gross about it all. I hate it." He was relaying this information in a calm tone, but his eyes were narrowed.

"For one, maybe you feel that way because you know I'm right," Cyril said quickly. "You need me, Blair! You can be resentful all you want, but you need my help right now. And secondly, the main reason you hate me so much… it's because I'm the one you've based your whole persona on these days, isn't that right?" He whispered the end with a certain amount of twisted delight. "Isn't that just, so, so funny…" Cyril's heartbeat had sped up considerably, his face feeling warm. Winston hadn't noticed, and Cyril wasn't sure if he should laugh at that or not.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He'd denied it already, to himself, and in a way to Winston as well (although not specifically), so he really shouldn't act on it now.

Cyril couldn't help but squirm a little. And then, he said, in a very small and very pleased voice, "I'm like a constant reminder of any horrible things you've done all this time. You can't hide from your reasons for guilt when you have to stare them in a mirror."

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" Winston snarled, pulling Cyril back then banging him up against the wall again, rougher this time. "You don't know anything about me! Stop trying to get in my head!" There was fire in those eyes now. His grip on Cyril had gotten tighter and tense again, and Cyril coughed a little, but he couldn't stop smiling. Was he really able to bring this kind of behavior out in Winston? It was just like before, just like that day he'd taken the cure. Possibly the best move of his life. And there Winston had been, utterly hysterical with him, eyes just like they were now, trying to get his destructive feelings out of his system, trying so badly to hurt Cyril, and not being able to- it felt just as good on Cyril's end now as it had all those years ago.

How long had it been now? Eight years? Eight years, and here they were again, just like before, except now- now nobody was going to interrupt. He had all the attention to himself, all this fierce unstable attention, and if Cyril lived for anything, it was attention. And he'd been longing for Winston's specific attention again. Cyril had thought he wanted to give apologies, wanted Winston to like him, feel connected in the same way- and he still did want that. But this. For some reason, even with supposed hate as the passion fuelling Cyril being touched, his being given attention- well, attention was attention.

And it was doing things to him.

This is a bad move, Some small part of him whispered. But I really, really don't care, the stronger part of him added. Sometimes you just have to get a little instant gratification.

Cyril opened his mouth, a shaky smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "Shut up? That's what you want? I can do that. Here, you'll just have to- you'll just have to, ah,help me out a little, though..."

Winston's face flashed between disgusted and confused, and he seemed to be about to protest, but Cyril was gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly, and tugging the other man forward with his full strength for the first time- which definitely caught Winston off guard. And then he was finally close enough, and Cyril was leaning into him, ignoring the fingers still at his neck, and his mouth is crashing into Winston's and it's fucking aggressive as hell and Cyril hasn't done this in forever and god.

For a second it's fine, it's perfect. Cyril's entire body is giving off heat, and he's biting and tasting the person that he's been basically infatuated with for forever, and it feels fantastic. Winston's not responding but he's not pushing him away either, which Cyril takes as a good sign, so he presses all of himself up against the other man and his hands are going places and-

And then he's on the floor, just like that. Barely even felt it happen. Winston's reflexes were better than he thought they were, and the realization of that only makes him more giddy for whatever reason. Even though he's on the cold, dirty ground instead of up there on equal ground like he should be, and Winston clearly isn't happy about what just happened.

Cyril wanted to make himself care, really, he did, but he couldn't. So he just let himself lay sprawled loosely on the floor, in a pleasure fueled daze. Only after he let himself bask in his bliss for a generous amount of time did he finally look up at Winston.

Winston, hair ruffled, clothes slightly out of place, brilliantly freckled as usual and with a disoriented look on his face and flushed skin, was gorgeous, Cyril thought.

Cyril can't remember ever having been attracted to men before. Or anyone at all, for that matter. Sexuality and romance had been a mystery to him, one that he'd been perfectly happy to leave unsolved. It all had seemed so tedious. But Winston- oh no, he didn't apply to any of that. Cyril felt a lot of things towards Winston he was sure he'd never felt before, and that weren't quite normal. He accepted all that. He reveled in it.

"You-" Winston said, with a sort of shakiness to his voice Cyril hadn't previously known he could have. The man standing above him looked confused, uncomfortable, even something Cyril might dare to call a little betrayed. "What? What was that? Why would you- what?"

For a moment, with him reacting in that way, Cyril saw Winston in a new light, one of some sort of… innocence. Cyril had done something Winston hadn't expected him to do, and it'd flipped some kind of interesting little switch. Perhaps making him closer to who he'd been back in those days. Back when he and Eyrich had been inseparable, affectionate, rather annoying saps with each other. Cyril hated thinking about that. He wondered if they were like that now, since Winston had found the oh-so perfect doctor again. Or maybe… maybe the good doctor doesn't like Winston's new personality. The one created in Cyril's image, Cyril, who Eyrich definitely hadn't liked in the slightest.

Cyril licked his lips. "I suppose I got a little… caught up in the moment," He said quietly, gaze boring into Winston. He couldn't keep the next words from tumbling out of his mouth, and the smile from coming back to his face. "Did you hate it that much?"

Winston cringed, expression strange mix of emotion Cyril didn't understand. "I don't… but didn't you say you weren't-" What? That I wasn't in love with you?

Cyril sat up a bit, watching Winston with a sort of mocking humor. "Did I actually ever say that? Hmm. Maybe I didn't realize it completely myself until you were up that close. But also, maybe I lied a little, Winston. Thought you knew I was a liar. Takes one to know one, right? Someone who's supposed to be some master manipulator now, doing everything for his cause and not worrying about hurting anyone's feelings, I didn't expect that kind of person to just stand there looking so hurt and uncomfortable over something so simple. What's wrong, Winston? Why is this particular thing making you so upset, after everything else you've done? Is it because you didn't hate it?"

Winston's demeanor shifted immediately as soon as Cyril had spoken, into the more familiar, more dangerous one. "You know, expecting me to team up with you after you start talking about how much lying you do, that's not very smart," He muttered.

He's avoiding really responding to that? So be it. We both have all the time in the world.

Cyril stood up, brushing himself off before slinking back over to Winston, getting in his personal space. "That could be right, but perhaps I think that the quality of my offers to you will win over chances I'm lying… You like to gamble with your luck, don't you, Winston?"

Winston's breath hitched, and Cyril's lips twitched. He was getting somewhere here after all.

"I've done things for you already, and you know the explanations for them are realistic sounding with what's been happening. I'm not lying about that. I've already done things for you without you having done anything for me in return yet, you see that, right? And I still have more use in me! I can get you safe passage into the hospital, Winston."

Winston's deep blue eyes lit up all at once with clear recognition, and that definitely confirmed a few things for Cyril. "How did you know that I wanted-"

"It's the only logical conclusion," Cyril whispered, although secretly proud at having figured it out. He hadn't been completely sure, but now he was. "Otherwise… otherwise why wouldn't Eyrich have made a flashy comeback before now? Why wouldn't we all be cured and happy and all that idealistic bullshit I know you adore, seeing he could've been recreating the cure in secret? Why would it have taken so long for you to find him, rather than him just seeking you out? It couldn't be because he'd given up, not the Eyrich we all knew back then. No, I know why. I know exactly why." He leaned into Winston's ear. "Because he can't remember."

Dearest doctor got infected. How ironic.

Winston slumped a little. "You make it sound easy. Why hasn't anyone else noticed?"

Cyril leaned back a little and laughed. "Maybe they have. They just don't know anything for sure, even I wasn't positive until you confirmed it. Not to mention, they've been moving on to different things, they haven't just been wasting time searching for Eyrich over the years. They have you to do the work of that. But I'm different. I'm more individually invested in your little adventures, and I pay more attention to the small details, the personal ones. Everyone else is so caught up in the technical things, but I like getting inside people's heads. It's simply the best way of going about things like this. Don't you agree?" Clearly, you do. You use the same methods, learned the same methods. Getting inside everyone's heads. Except, it seems, when someone gets inside your head… you can't handle it. And I think I'm starting to truly understand why.

I'm the only one. I'm the only one who knew Winston from before. Eyrich can't remember, his parents are dead by his own hands, and Winston's avoided contact with anyone else who could've otherwise known him from before he was cured.

So that means it's just me.

Cyril was quiet for a moment, letting that little deduction sink in and trying not to let the excitement over it show on his face. He'd use it later. "Anyway, you're hoping going back to that place will trigger some flashbacks, or something, correct? Give him back at least the important memories?"

Winston scoffed, a slight smirk pulling at his lips. "Sure, you could say that. He's had some flashbacks of that time already, mostly disturbing things, so it wouldn't be that impossible of a hope. Especially not with a mind like his. Your people did experimentation on that, right? A genius type infected with the virus has a far better chance at bringing back things." He stopped for a moment, and looked downward, narrowing his eyes. "Cyril, how do you have access to the hospital? Bribing more random employees, or something? What's even happening there? That whole city… has been completely cut off from the rest of the world. It looks like some sort of fucking secret military base now."

A huge grin spread across Cyril's face. "Bribing a random employee? Oh no, Winston. On the other thing, you aren't so far off, though. It looks like that for a reason. It's our second largest base, and I'm in charge of it."

Winston sputtered, snapping his head back up to gape at Cyril. "You? You're in charge of that fucking place? It's huge! Seriously, you didn't answer me! What's it for? Other than making sure no outsiders stumble on the hospital's ruins, why do you people want that area?"

Cyril bit his lip to try to keep his grinning down. He was usually perfect with masking his true emotions, but not now. "I think that should be… more of a witness it for yourself sort of thing. It's better that way. I don't want to give you too many spoilers, now, do I?" He broke out in a small fit of giggles. "Nooo, it's far too interesting for that. I think it might answer a few mysteries you've had, as well. I don't want to ruin something like that." He composed himself again, about as much as he could. "So. Do we have… an alliance?"

"Hold on," Winston snapped, fingers twitching slightly, as if he wanted to punch Cyril or push him up against a wall again. "What are you going to want out of me in exchange for this? Why are you doing this, in general? How do I know this isn't all a trap?"

"Oh, Winston," Cyril said, raising his eyebrows and smiling pleasantly. "Even if I wasn't the one giving you access, walking into that base is going to be a trap no matter what you do. You know that! But you still want to do it, don't you?"

Winston's expression fell, and he took a few steps back from Cyril, leaning on a wall and shaking his head to himself, muttering things under his breath.

Cyril went on, all the same, eyes following the other but not otherwise moving himself. "And I already told you the first thing, I want you to let me take charge of the discovery that was just made. I want the rightful credit for catching those thieves, and finding out that they have in fact made a major breakthrough with the cure. Simple enough, isn't it? You're probably worried about us instantly weaponizing it, but it wouldn't happen that fast. It wouldn't happen for additional reasons, as well, reasons you might be finding out soon if you agree to this."

Winston sighed. It sounded more like he was trying to release all the stress he'd ever felt rather than just a sigh, though. "...You forgot one. Just answer that one question, and I'll think about it."

I did? Oh, yes… the bigger picture. My long time goals. "I'll let you in on a secret. A very big, dangerous secret of mine. You could say I'm telling you this as a show of trust, but it's also true that if you tried to tell anyone about it it'd be your word over mine- so let's forget any ideas of doing that, shall we?" Cyril hummed. "I'm not like any of you. I'm not. I don't care about the cure, who has it and what they use it for... I like the interesting things this whole business stirred up, especially my own power gained from it, but it's not my main focus.

"I'm playing a game, Winston. The same game I've been playing since the start of my life, but I'm not just losing the game anymore. I was always losing. I didn't have any hope before, I just went through things like I was an empty husk. But then all this happened, and the playing field was suddenly more even than it had ever been! I don't have a whole lot of goals. One is to have you pay attention to me, Winston, and the other- the other is to make sure the other player in my game loses every single bit of power they have. I don't care if I lose my own power trying, either, it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is tearing them down."

Cyril glanced down at his own hands, which he'd been moving around rapidly as he spoke to better express himself, and realized that they were shaking. He watched them with vague interest. "The person I'm playing with, they're in it too. Eternity Research Institute. A big part of it, really... And you, Winston. You're ready to rip that whole orginization to shreds, aren't you? Which is why I'd like to lend a little assistance, and then sit back to watch the show. You're my best chance. I want this place broken. If you break it, but leave me untouched, I'll be able to come back to pick up the pieces afterwards. Then I'll be seen as its savior. All this time obeying orders leading up to this. I love this orginization. I really do, with all of my heart, which is why… I want it. Most of all I want to destroy that person, of course, and taking this from them could be like a trophy, yes, but I do love it on its own as well. I'd take good care of it. I deserve it."

Cyril looked up at Winston, who wasn't leaning on the wall anymore, and instead had approached Cyril, eyes large. "Cyril," Winston said breathlessly. "You're fucking crazy."

Cyril burst out laughing, and Winston continued to stare at him. Then he grinned, laced his fingers together in front of him, and narrowed his eyes slightly. "I don't know, Winston. Is that all you have to say? Don't you think we're really quite similar? After hearing all that, don't you see it? I do. Perhaps our goals aren't the exact same, but they can be accomplished together. It's our passion for them that's the same."

Winston took in a breath, opened his mouth, then closed it again with a deep frown. He massaged his temples, and ran a hand through his hair, eyes closed too now. "Uhhhhhhh," He half sighed and half groaned. "...Shit."

Cyril simply raised one eyebrow.

Winston half opened his eyes, a hand still resting in his hair, the other on his hip, and gave Cyril what was decidedly a sulky look. "I'm thinking, okay? Don't look at me like that! Don't look at me at all, actually. I'm thinking, Cyril, you've given me a lot of shit to fucking think about, alright?" His speech was full of curses, but lacked the previous bite it had had. "...I hate this," He mumbled. "I feel like there are no right choices."

Cyril blinked, and crossed his arms. He didn't stop staring at Winston, but he was quiet and more mild about it. It seemed like he'd managed to break down Winston's defenses, even if only temporarily.

"But I have to," Winston said to himself, in a small voice. "I can't- I have to do it. If I don't, nobody will. That's how it is. That's how it's been. Yes, that's… that's why."

Cyril frowned in discomfort. He looks like he could start crying or something with a face and voice like that. That isn't very fun.

Winston looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds, and when he looked back at Cyril again, his face was wildly different. An unwavering, resolute expression was clear in his face along with the way it shone in his eyes. "I'll do it. I'll make an alliance with you, Cyril Morales," He announced, with sharp determination. "We'll help each other. And if you make one wrong move, I will make sure you never have to chance to betray me or anyone else ever again, got it?"

There it is. There's the electricity.

Cyril's whole face lit up. He barely even registered the threat attached to the agreement, then, when he did, he said, "You won't regret this." I won him over. I did it. I can hardly believe it.

Cyril eagerly stuck his hand out, thinking Winston might prefer a handshake over them both signing a contract. Winston looked almost surprised by it for a second, then reluctantly clasped Cyril's hand in his own.

"There will be conditions," Winston said, squeezing Cyril's hand. "Many of them."

Cyril smiled a little unpleasantly, letting his eyes flicker from Winston to their hands then back again. "I know."

Winston had to pull his own hand away when Cyril refused to let go on his own.