nealuchi | observational, confessional

Title: observational, confessional
Fandom: End Roll
Character(s): Walter, Dogma
Pairing(s): Walter/Dogma
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 1,120
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Walter has no reason to spend time around Dogma, and yet he continues to do so.
Notes:

Who this Dogma is has little to do with who that Dogma was.

Walter has read the subject’s file enough to know that most of the inhabitants of the dream are made up whole cloth by someone who barely knew them. Even if he did more research on the priest of that church, he might bear little to no resemblance to Dogma.

And yet, that would still be a better use of his time than hanging around this figment of a dream.

“I thought you said you had no interest in religion,” Dogma says after his service ends.

“I have no belief in religion,” Walter says, only a little irritated that his presence at the back of the church was noticed. “Why so many people subscribe to an unfounded belief is of interest from to me a psychological standpoint.”

He’s not lying about that. Dogma’s voice being soothing to him is a subjective viewpoint that need not be said out loud. Walter strives to be objective about all things, and he’s hardly going to admit anything otherwise.

Dogma doesn’t quite smile, but his lips quirk like he’s about to. “I see. Well, you’re always allowed into this place of sanctuary. There’s no need to hide in the back if you return.”

I wasn’t hiding, Walter thinks. “It’s the best vantage point to observe your congregants from.”

“Of course.” Dogma actually chuckles, and Walter can’t help but think that the sound of his laughter is soothing as well.

When Walter realizes that Dogma is peering at his notes, he covers them up. They mention the dream as such a number of times, and an inhabitant reading them could undermine the stability of the dream. “A man of faith wouldn’t be interested.”

Dogma huffs. “Just because I believe in our Lord and Lady doesn’t mean I discredit the value of science.”

Walter raises an eyebrow.

“’When the world was created, the Lord spoke to man, saying, ‘All the beasts of the earth and water and air are yours, and all that grows, and you shall know them for yourself,’’” Dogma recites. “We were meant to learn to understand the world around us. To study science is a divine commandment.”

Walter is almost sure that isn’t how Genesis goes, but he isn’t that much more familiar with it than Russell is. “Is that so? My notes are still far above your level.”

But maybe his esteem of Dogma rises just a little.

The smell of candy is still thick in the back of Walter’s throat. He’s never liked the stuff, but after this he might swear it off completely.

Dogma looks even paler than normal. While Tabasa is busy fussing over Russell, he steps close to Walter. It’s an invasion of personal space, especially when Dogma’s hand brushes against his, but right now Walter can’t say he minds.

Physical contact can be comforting. Obviously he doesn’t need any comfort even after what they saw, but Dogma can take it from him if he wants. It’s no extra hassle to him.

“Thank you,” Dogma whispers.

Walter turns his hand to properly hold Dogma’s, for efficiency’s sake and nothing else.

“Forgive me, for I have sinned.”

It’s not that Walter feels terribly guilty. That would be Russell - he can tell by the rapid breakdown of the dream, far worse this morning than last night. But if he were ever to confess anything to observe if it has any effects on him, it would be best done to a person who doesn’t exist.

Dogma’s voice is soft on the other side of the confessional. “What is it that you must confess?”

“I have encouraged emotional distress in others as part of my research. I have lied, am lying, and will continue to lie as part of my work.” The sins come to him easily, and he lists them without hesitation. “I have been arrogant. I have spoken cruelly of my coworkers behind their backs as well as to their faces. I have participated in work where I know there is a significant likelihood that the subject may die.”

“Your work is valuable to you,” Dogma says, not sounding afraid or upset despite everything Walter has just confessed. There’s no way he doesn’t recognize his voice either.

“It is the most important thing in my life.” After a moment, Walter adds, “It might help people. At least, once it’s perfected.” The fact that they’re attempting to help people is an afterthought to him, and that in itself is damning.

“I understand. In penance for lying over work, find someone you have lied to and speak to them honestly about something personal. It need not be your work, nor anything that you hide with the intention of it being for the greater good.” Dogma hums for a moment. “In penance for cruelty and arrogance, share a vulnerable piece of yourself with your coworkers. And in penance for complicity in distress and death, attempt to make someone truly happy.”

Walter commits the instructions to memory. He supposes that for this experiment to work, he has to actually follow them. “I understand.”

“Go and be without sin, and may the Goddess watch over you.”

Making someone happy is the easiest part. Walter distracts Fairia for several hours asking her to tour him around the remote regions of the dream, and when he sees him next Raymond looks like he’s floating on air.

Being vulnerable with a coworker is much more difficult. Raymond and Fairia are out, neither of them could keep a secret if their lives depended on it, so Walter goes to Yue. After impressing upon her that he’ll make her life hell if she repeats this, he admits-

“I’ve grown attached to the residents of this dream.”

Yue smiles just a tiny bit. “Walter, I knew that already.”

Walter decides that this still counts, and promptly excuses himself.

Being honest. From a certain standpoint, any of the residents of the dream qualify, since they’ve been convinced by his company that they’re real people. But as for his personal lies, he can only think of the person who’s been interested enough in him to ask who he is and where he’s from. Who’s cared enough to seek him out for conversation or just companionable silence.

“Dogma,” he says, in an otherwise quiet moment in his tent.

Dogma looks over from the stack of books he’d been inspecting. “Yes?”

“…I am fond of you.”

Gradually, Dogma’s face turns a light shade of pink, and even when he looks away Walter can see the flush in the tips of his ears. “I, I am- fond of you, as well.”

He still doesn’t make eye contact, but he reaches for Walter’s hand.