Time continued to pass, bringing with it other good news. Emery was back to his regular weight, cheeks and eyes far from sunken these days. His harsh regimen had several months to go before it was completed, but he was no longer contagious — he'd received the latest batch of tests only two hours earlier.

Josh was having a fight with the ice that had built up in his freezer when Emery walked in, dressed in a smart suit and shirt. Josh missed him in his tailored clothes of old, but the charcoal suit was a good fit, one Josh had chosen in his buying spree. Seeing Emery without his mask, with a little hair on his head and glasses on his face, Josh's grin was a foregone conclusion.

Emery smiled back; it was beautiful to be able to see his whole face when it happened. Josh took the excuse to turn off the hair dryer that he'd been using to attack the ice and take a break. "Don't look now, but your face is naked."

A huff. "So it is." He ran a hand over his chin, eyes pensive. "I'd almost forgotten how walking around like this feels."

"I'd almost forgotten what you look like. And you're going out? Congratulations. Any plans to celebrate?"

The lightness in him faded in increments, making Josh wonder what he'd said wrong.

"I hadn't considered celebrating. Well, unless you consider a job interview a celebration," Emery added, lips twisting in a smile that never reached his eyes.

Of course he had an interview on the very day he'd been cleared to go out, Josh thought to himself with an internal eye roll. This was Emery, after all. Yet, if he had a job interview, he was sure to be pleased — he was no less independent than Emma had been, and Josh knew how much it had cost him, having to accept help in any way. Why didn't he look pleased, then? "What's the interview for, can I ask?"

"Office clerk." Emery looked away. "I was hoping..." He swallowed, facing Josh again. "Would it be possible to borrow money from you? For the subway?"

Josh could have kicked himself. He'd spent the last two months wondering how he could get Emery to accept having at least a little money of his own. Since no bright ideas had sprung to mind he'd put it off multiple times, convinced he still had time while Emery was stuck at home. This — Emery feeling forced to ask — was the result.

And an office clerk? No wonder he was so dispirited. To have his skill, his intelligence, his level of passion for something and to then have all that taken away... "Emery... Do you need to leave now, or do you have some time?"

"I have an hour still."

"Can we talk?"

"Of course." Emery stood a little straighter, shoulders squared as if he were expecting the upcoming conversation to come as a blow. Maybe he was.

Josh gestured to the sofa. "The freezer's not going anywhere; I'll finish it while you're out."

Emery said nothing, posture stiff. Sitting in front of him, Josh resisted the urge to lay a hand on his forearm; he'd been doing too much of that lately as it stood, and it wouldn't do to wrinkle the suit. "I'm not trying to start a fight. I'm not going to try to force you to do things my way — I just want you to consider what I'm saying. Okay?"

Emery nodded, eyes guarded. If he was already so defensive even before Josh started, then he feared nothing good would come of this monologue masquerading as a conversation.

"Of course you can have the subway money. I've been trying to think of a way you'd let me just set up an account for you and be done with it, but you're a stubborn mule and I can't figure out how to get around that. If you could read that as me paying you off so I wouldn't have to think about it anymore, it'd be appreciated."

"The subway is hardly—"

"The subway, groceries on the way home, a movie ticket, an elephant. Well, maybe not an elephant," he added with a conspiratorial grin. "It's a little over the budget, and he'd have to sleep in your room."

Josh loved it when he could make Emery laugh like that. Emery didn't reply, but his shoulders lost a little of their stiffness even after the laughter died down.

"I know you; I know how hard you've always worked, how you took it upon yourself to get the best care for Emma when it became just the two of you... I know how you hate being the one taken care of, for a change. But you don't have to jump headfirst into the first dead-end job in front of you just to get out of my hair." He twirled a strand of it around his finger to try and keep the tone light. "My hair feels perfectly fine with you around."

Surprise overtook Emery's warm brown eyes. Whatever he'd been expecting, that wasn't it. "You have no concept of your own best interests, do you?"A fond shake of his head, a slight upturning of the corners of his lips. "None at all."

Josh dropped the strand of hair, serious again. "Why is telling you this against my own best interests?"

"What you've done for me these past months goes above and beyond what any sane person would have done. There's no shame in being glad once I'm gainfully employed, regardless of the occupation. That'll mean I'll be living somewhere else as soon as possible."

'Living somewhere else.' Like he'd said, Josh knew Emery. 'Somewhere else' wouldn't be his own space, wouldn't be a new beginning; it'd be a seedy room where he could lay his head on a pillow after spending an entire day doing mind-numbing grunt work that he could have done in his sleep, only to wake up the following day and do it all again. Josh swallowed the ache he felt at the image.

"Maybe there'd be no shame in it, but that's not how I feel. If you leave here to work in a place you hate, just so you can start looking for a place to live in that you'll hate, you're going to be doing it for you and your pride. Not for me and my best interests. I know I have no control over what you do, but I won't be your excuse. I like having you around, if I'm being honest." Damn it, that was more honesty than he'd planned on. "I just... Wanted you to have that information," he finished weakly.

"Josh..." Emery, at a loss for words. Josh wondered if he should alert all major news outlets of this once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. He waited Emery out, despite having a dozen different ways of saying the exact same thing wanting to claw out of his chest. His patience was rewarded.

"I tried to explore theoretical career options online for the past weeks. Unfortunately when they ask if you enjoy finance, if you tick the box, that's what they'll suggest to someone with my background." A self-deprecating snort. "There's no box to tick to say one enjoys it but isn't allowed to work in the field anymore. And when I don't tick the finance box then the entire test loses its value. Do you know what the site suggested at one point?"

"What?"

"A career as a pet detective. 'Someone who uses conventional detective skills to locate missing pets,' according to the description."

Josh couldn't help his guffaw. Soon enough, Emery had followed suit, until there were tears of mirth in his eyes, clinging to the lenses of his glasses. It felt cathartic, somehow, yet no less desperate for it. "Are you saying you don't think you'd be happy locating— I can't," Josh bent forward, pressing a hand to his aching stomach, trying to catch his breath. "I can't even say it with a straight face."

While the laughter was undoubtedly genuine, he understood what Emery was saying — that there was no clear career path in front of him. That he'd spent decades doing something he loved and excelled at, only to lose it all in one fell swoop, and he didn't know where to go from there.

He didn't realize he'd taken hold of Emery's hand until it was already done and, well. What would be the point in making it awkward by releasing it once he felt Emery's fingers curving over his? "You can't let a random site tell you there's no good fit for you out there. You know you're better than that. There's no rush, not because of me. I wish you wouldn't leave until it was to go somewhere better."

Emery squeezed his hand tight before letting go. "You make me want to stay."

Josh thought he'd add some qualifier, but Emery left it at that, and Josh was weak. Too weak not to want to read something into it that might not be there at all. "Then will you?"

Emery's eyes bore into his. "If I have your word that, no matter what, you'll tell me once I've overstayed my welcome."

Oh. They were going to be sharing an apartment until one of them died of old age, weren't they?