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The way his and Null's minds have mixed is... odd, to say the least. Gladion has been outside before, of course; but the part of his mind that was Null's marvels at the outside world - how bright it is, how large. He never imagined, in a million years, that he would feel so free with the sun beating down on him, or the wind whipping around him as he runs. It's somehow familiar and yet not. Gladion knows the feeling of grass underfoot, but not beneath talons and paws. It's like he's learning everything over again. And he can't help but relish every step taken into the fresh air. He's never felt this alive.
It's all too good to last for long. After what feels like an eternity of running and hiding and running some more, he collapses at his sister's side, breathless. The ground is so warm beneath him, so different from the cold tile of the laboratory that bruised his flesh and left blisters on his knees and elbows. The smell, too; the sweet scent of pollen, the scent of wildflowers - the earth he knows so well, the world that's so foreign to his new senses.
After a moment of catching her own breath, Lillie sits upright and runs her hand down his back - one of the few parts of Gladion's body that still resembles his original form.
"We're out," she breathes. "Brother... are you okay?"
He nods in response, unable to speak around his heavy breathing, muffled and hot beneath the muzzle he wears. She reaches forward and brushes hair from his face - a gesture she learned from him, though neither of them can remember when the habit began.
"Come on, you two. Just a little further," their savior, some strange man neither of them had ever seen before, calls to them, beckoning them onwards.
Gladion's eyes narrow. The man had saved them, but adults - humans - they can't be trusted. Both Gladion and Null know that.
Lillie doesn't seem to have the same reservations, though; she nods, and gets to her feet, urging Gladion up as well. "Let's go, brother."
Gladion allows himself to be dragged forwards - albeit reluctantly. As much as he loves being close to his sister, he doesn't trust her judgment - Gladion knows better than most just how dangerous strangers can be.
As he walks alongside Lillie, he hates how his claws dig into the soft earth beneath him - how his tail flops behind him like some kind of demented fish and his teeth clack together as if to warn off anyone who might try something funny. He wants to scratch at the dirt; to tear and rip anything he can get his claws on to shreds. But he knows it wouldn't do any good - it wouldn't bring the people who did this to justice. He would just risk scaring Lillie, and maybe making this stranger have second thoughts about helping them.
He doesn't know where the urge comes from, either; is it his? Or Null's? Is it fair to say that any of his feelings, thoughts, desires - that any belong to Null at all?
Do they share a body now, or is it simply Gladion's, distorted with Null's features? He isn't sure anymore, after so many months of being merged with something else. His body feels unfamiliar, but it certainly seems like his. If he wills his body to move, it does. He chooses when to lift the paws, when they touch the earth, how tight he holds Lillie's hand.
But there have been times, too, when it felt like his actions were warped by Null's desires. Times in which his body felt as if he wanted nothing more than to lash out, claw and bite and snap at others, no matter the provocation. Times in which he couldn't stop himself. Times when his body took a physical and mental leap that didn't match his human brain.
Are those moments really Null, or are they simply Gladion losing control of himself? Whose hands are guiding who, and whose body is doing what? Which of them is responsible for sinking their teeth into those scientists' throats, tearing skin and bones apart, blood splattering everywhere…?
What if this is only Gladion's mind, acting on his own impulses? What if this is just Gladion's desire to hurt, and not a true part of Null's personality?
(What if it is?)
Gladion looks down at Lillie's hand, clasped around his talons. It feels different than it did when his hands were made of flesh - it's still warm, still there, but almost distant, as if she was touching the skin on his elbow instead of his hand.
Lillie's hand, given its small size, looks fragile compared to his sharp talons. Does she know what he's done, what he is now? How easy it would be for him to tear through her palm with a simple flick of his wrist? To crush her fingers, or snap her wrist?
He would never want to hurt her. Ever. But whether his recent violent streak is Null's or his own, will he be able to stop himself if the urge rises...?