[ At first, Gregor had had a relatively easy introduction to his telepathy. Certainly a kinder one than Miles in these initial days: with only Miles in his head, he has no low spout of black-oil hatred dripping into his brain. But he can feel Miles's distress keenly, even if at first he doesn't know what it is. The previous day's confusion over the sudden appearance of a bright, lively, sharp-edged light in his mind has vanished into the clarity of understanding.
Somehow, at night with Miles's fear and pain seeping over, it seems perfectly obvious. Of course it's Miles. Hasn't it always been Miles? And Gregor-- is responsible for him, that seems even sharper than the fear/pain trickling down the link. Normally his responsibilities seem fairly abstract, manifest in boring tasks and tedious tutoring and not being allowed to live with the Vorkosigans any longer. 'Duty' is a monolithic, suffocating thing to Gregor at this age.
Out of nowhere, it has a shape and a face that pierces him through, and he's out of bed and padding down the hall to Miles's room before he realizes what he's doing or why. In the dark with everyone else asleep, impossible things seem so much more possible... And he doesn't question anything yet, not until this more immediate pressing problem is taken care of.
Gregor slips his lanky form into the room and goes unerringly toward the tiny compressed form in the corner. He kneels in front of him and reaches his hands out, speaking a low whisper. ] Miles, what's wrong?
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Somehow, at night with Miles's fear and pain seeping over, it seems perfectly obvious. Of course it's Miles. Hasn't it always been Miles? And Gregor-- is responsible for him, that seems even sharper than the fear/pain trickling down the link. Normally his responsibilities seem fairly abstract, manifest in boring tasks and tedious tutoring and not being allowed to live with the Vorkosigans any longer. 'Duty' is a monolithic, suffocating thing to Gregor at this age.
Out of nowhere, it has a shape and a face that pierces him through, and he's out of bed and padding down the hall to Miles's room before he realizes what he's doing or why. In the dark with everyone else asleep, impossible things seem so much more possible... And he doesn't question anything yet, not until this more immediate pressing problem is taken care of.
Gregor slips his lanky form into the room and goes unerringly toward the tiny compressed form in the corner. He kneels in front of him and reaches his hands out, speaking a low whisper. ] Miles, what's wrong?
[ And how did you call me here? ]