Sam Wilson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sizeofyourbaggage) wrote2016-05-22 03:26 pm
sizeofyourbaggage) wrote2016-05-22 03:26 pm
Entry tags:
[ His shields thin a little when Steve brushes up against them, almost without even thinking about it. There's not a lot of people that Sam would welcome into his mind, but Steve is definitely one of them. ]
( Hope you're all rested up, man. )
[ He keeps up the light tone, but he'd be happy not to see Steve back at the Nesting Deck any time soon, either. There's a hum of acknowledgement across the connection. Sam starts moving, heading down the Avenue towards where Steve's stand'd been, until he spots him.
Hopefully Steve'll forgive him later if this is too much, because Sam - steps right into Steve's personal space, folding himself in a little so he can wrap his arms around Steve and hold him tight, letting his forehead rest on Steve's shoulder.
Shit, Sam's missed him. ]
( Hope you're all rested up, man. )
[ He keeps up the light tone, but he'd be happy not to see Steve back at the Nesting Deck any time soon, either. There's a hum of acknowledgement across the connection. Sam starts moving, heading down the Avenue towards where Steve's stand'd been, until he spots him.
Hopefully Steve'll forgive him later if this is too much, because Sam - steps right into Steve's personal space, folding himself in a little so he can wrap his arms around Steve and hold him tight, letting his forehead rest on Steve's shoulder.
Shit, Sam's missed him. ]
[ Sam's quiet curiosity at the rock turns quickly into a feeling of unease at the cell and the footsteps - it's different enough from the cells in the Raft that it doesn't pull at his own memory, but man nothing good ever comes from a cell and the sound of footsteps approaching.
The voice is all it takes for Sam to realize that this is not something he should be seeing, and he tries immediately to yank himself out of Damon's head and back into his own. But what'd happened with Shepard when she flashed back to dying, he's caught, swept up in the memories as Damon gets caught up in the instinctive response.
Quiet, small, unnoticeable, fear and pain and captivity, and it's - no, Sam doesn't want this. This isn't his, this is Damon's. It's not like with Bucky, when Sam'd seen flashes of similar things - things he still has echoes of in his own mind - when sharing the experience is something to remind Bucky that he isn't alone. Sam digs his heels in, trying not to let himself get caught up in what's buried deep in Damon's mind, but it's -
It's pain in his eye and he hadn't even seen the scalpel, it's fear, so much fear, lying on his back with someone else's hands in his guts, and Sam doesn't even have to be caught up in Damon's memories to know the way that smells, the sound of the slide of fingers over internal organs that should never have been out in open air. It's starving and delirium, the sound of screams - Damon's? Someone else's? - fury building and building and building and lingering even after it bubbles over in a crescendo of violence. And still fear, regret, detachment and dissociation, your mind has to be somewhere else because it can't be here, because you can't feel.
And that - that helps Sam try to get himself unstuck. That he knows, from even before the Nest. He runs his thumb over the coin in his pocket, feeling the ridges along the edges and tracing the shape of every etched letter in the word wings. Focuses on the feel of the ground underneath the balls of his feet, of the way the fabric of his pants shifts as he does, counts to seven as he breathes in and to eleven as he breathes out. ]
The voice is all it takes for Sam to realize that this is not something he should be seeing, and he tries immediately to yank himself out of Damon's head and back into his own. But what'd happened with Shepard when she flashed back to dying, he's caught, swept up in the memories as Damon gets caught up in the instinctive response.
Quiet, small, unnoticeable, fear and pain and captivity, and it's - no, Sam doesn't want this. This isn't his, this is Damon's. It's not like with Bucky, when Sam'd seen flashes of similar things - things he still has echoes of in his own mind - when sharing the experience is something to remind Bucky that he isn't alone. Sam digs his heels in, trying not to let himself get caught up in what's buried deep in Damon's mind, but it's -
It's pain in his eye and he hadn't even seen the scalpel, it's fear, so much fear, lying on his back with someone else's hands in his guts, and Sam doesn't even have to be caught up in Damon's memories to know the way that smells, the sound of the slide of fingers over internal organs that should never have been out in open air. It's starving and delirium, the sound of screams - Damon's? Someone else's? - fury building and building and building and lingering even after it bubbles over in a crescendo of violence. And still fear, regret, detachment and dissociation, your mind has to be somewhere else because it can't be here, because you can't feel.
And that - that helps Sam try to get himself unstuck. That he knows, from even before the Nest. He runs his thumb over the coin in his pocket, feeling the ridges along the edges and tracing the shape of every etched letter in the word wings. Focuses on the feel of the ground underneath the balls of his feet, of the way the fabric of his pants shifts as he does, counts to seven as he breathes in and to eleven as he breathes out. ]
[ There's a mental impression of something like holding his hands up. ]
( Don't gotta tell me that, I'm right there with you. That's why I think the rest of that's so important. )
( Don't gotta tell me that, I'm right there with you. That's why I think the rest of that's so important. )
[ It'd surprised him a little, the effect of what he'd said. He thought Shiro might be upset by him pointing it out, sure, maybe a little guilty, but he hadn't anything that severe.
So of course he agrees when Shiro requests to meet in person, sending the knowledge of the back alley where he's hanging out across their mental link. Then he waits, until he spots Shiro heading over and pushes himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against. ]
Hey.
So of course he agrees when Shiro requests to meet in person, sending the knowledge of the back alley where he's hanging out across their mental link. Then he waits, until he spots Shiro heading over and pushes himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against. ]
Hey.
Hey.
[This is where usually there'd be a lot more affection and a lot more physical contact. But there isn't. He's holding himself back. Purposefully. His mental presence nothing more than the swirl of stars he pulls up to keep everyone else out.]
[Hands shoved in his pockets.]
I'm sorry. [The stars part, briefly, like curtains made of nebulae, enough to show the honesty of the words.] I know that's not going to fix anything, but I needed to say it.
[This is where usually there'd be a lot more affection and a lot more physical contact. But there isn't. He's holding himself back. Purposefully. His mental presence nothing more than the swirl of stars he pulls up to keep everyone else out.]
[Hands shoved in his pockets.]
I'm sorry. [The stars part, briefly, like curtains made of nebulae, enough to show the honesty of the words.] I know that's not going to fix anything, but I needed to say it.
[ If nothing else, at least Sam has successfully distracted him from his nightmare. This is the good kind of overwhelming, this is the kind of overwhelming that Sam'd love to see on Shiro damn near all the time.
He takes in Shiro's reaction across their connection, smiling a little. His first thought is then don't say no, but he doesn't quite give it voice. ]
( You feel like talking a little more about your nightmare, or are you done for the night? )
[ There's no sense of judging, just the feeling that whatever Shiro's answer is, Sam'll be happy with it. Because really, either way, Sam's gonna be with him - he'll just come to Shiro if he wants to talk about the arena more, otherwise he'll get Shiro to come to him. ]
He takes in Shiro's reaction across their connection, smiling a little. His first thought is then don't say no, but he doesn't quite give it voice. ]
( You feel like talking a little more about your nightmare, or are you done for the night? )
[ There's no sense of judging, just the feeling that whatever Shiro's answer is, Sam'll be happy with it. Because really, either way, Sam's gonna be with him - he'll just come to Shiro if he wants to talk about the arena more, otherwise he'll get Shiro to come to him. ]
(I'm not saying no.)
[See, the problem with being in each others' heads so much, being so close, so often... you learn to read between the mental lines a little. Sam's been open with him on this. He needs to be, too.]
[It's not a bad idea. Far from it. He's flustered, and still learning how to reel it in enough to deal with it, process it. Talk through it without stammering.]
[Like now, when he has to think that one over. He's awake -- very awake. There feels like there's some distance between his mind and the dreams. Does he want to dive back in there now? When there's half a chance of getting rest? Of any kind?]
(I'm good. For now. I... mean that. Maybe tomorrow we can get back to it.)
[See, the problem with being in each others' heads so much, being so close, so often... you learn to read between the mental lines a little. Sam's been open with him on this. He needs to be, too.]
[It's not a bad idea. Far from it. He's flustered, and still learning how to reel it in enough to deal with it, process it. Talk through it without stammering.]
[Like now, when he has to think that one over. He's awake -- very awake. There feels like there's some distance between his mind and the dreams. Does he want to dive back in there now? When there's half a chance of getting rest? Of any kind?]
(I'm good. For now. I... mean that. Maybe tomorrow we can get back to it.)
( sam is swept up in the memories, and damon isn't doing much better. they're not sequential or coherent, more impressions than true memories, but it's not the sequence or the veracity that matter. it's the feelings they elicit, the helplessness that damon hasn't felt in fifty years, the hopelessness. it's hard to remember that he isn't there anymore — and even when he does, it's harder still to pull himself out of it.
it's hands in his guts, tearing out parts of his stomach and bleeding stomach acid everywhere. it's blurry vision, and the inability to tell if it's because of the missing slices or tears. it's enzo's screams ringing in his ears even at night.
it's the slowly dwindling certainty that stefan would come, and the numbing realization that no, he won't.
if these were memories he'd bothered to consider now that he's capable of caring about them, with his humanity on in full force, they might not hit as hard. he'd have a framework for how to deal with them, even if that framework was anger or violence or any number of the other terrible coping strategies damon's picked up over the years. he'd have something to do that would help pull himself and sam out of this tangle of misery. he hasn't, though, hasn't thought about any of it for a decade, and longer before that. it's all just as fresh as it was when it was actually happening, and he doesn't know how to drag himself out, only knows how to not be here.
damon's shields are forgotten entirely in the onslaught of these memories. he doesn't know what to do, or how to get away from them — it feels like drowning, like he needs to swim up but doesn't know which way up is. for long moments all he can do is experience it all again, stuck in a repeating loop, and then, it... changes. he breathes. in to a count of seven, out to a count of eleven. sam's breathing bleeds through, and damon latches onto it, his only point of normalcy in the chaos that is his head. he doesn't know how long they stay like that, breathing in tandem, but eventually damon opens his eyes and he's back in the station, augustine decades behind him and sam wilson breathing in front of him. )
What the fuck was that, ( he says, voice low and dangerous. thankfully, it doesn't quiver at all on the words, shaky as damon himself feels. )
it's hands in his guts, tearing out parts of his stomach and bleeding stomach acid everywhere. it's blurry vision, and the inability to tell if it's because of the missing slices or tears. it's enzo's screams ringing in his ears even at night.
it's the slowly dwindling certainty that stefan would come, and the numbing realization that no, he won't.
if these were memories he'd bothered to consider now that he's capable of caring about them, with his humanity on in full force, they might not hit as hard. he'd have a framework for how to deal with them, even if that framework was anger or violence or any number of the other terrible coping strategies damon's picked up over the years. he'd have something to do that would help pull himself and sam out of this tangle of misery. he hasn't, though, hasn't thought about any of it for a decade, and longer before that. it's all just as fresh as it was when it was actually happening, and he doesn't know how to drag himself out, only knows how to not be here.
damon's shields are forgotten entirely in the onslaught of these memories. he doesn't know what to do, or how to get away from them — it feels like drowning, like he needs to swim up but doesn't know which way up is. for long moments all he can do is experience it all again, stuck in a repeating loop, and then, it... changes. he breathes. in to a count of seven, out to a count of eleven. sam's breathing bleeds through, and damon latches onto it, his only point of normalcy in the chaos that is his head. he doesn't know how long they stay like that, breathing in tandem, but eventually damon opens his eyes and he's back in the station, augustine decades behind him and sam wilson breathing in front of him. )
What the fuck was that, ( he says, voice low and dangerous. thankfully, it doesn't quiver at all on the words, shaky as damon himself feels. )
[ Katie's enthusiasm is catching - literally - but he'd probably be into it either way. It's good seeing her happy, and he's already interested in some aspects of technology. ]
( I'm gonna guess about three times as cool as it sounds, did she let you take a look at it? )
( I'm gonna guess about three times as cool as it sounds, did she let you take a look at it? )
[ That's... oh. Okay. Sam's going to try not to read anything into the fact that Shiro's purposefully keeping his distance both physically and mentally, because he isn't sure what his reasoning is. For the moment he follows Shiro's lead, pulling his own walls up and hooking his thumbs through his belt. ]
Depends on what you're apologizing for.
Depends on what you're apologizing for.
[ The more that Sam picks up, the more he wishes he hadn't. It's not that he doesn't want to know any of this, necessarily, or even that he doesn't want to experience it - although hell no he doesn't, no one would want to - it's more that he doesn't want to know it like this. He likes Damon, and it's so fucking unfair for something like this to get spilled out without Damon's control, on someone he barely knows.
Nobody should have ever had to feel that kind of helpless, to watch the hope that someone would come fade into nothing. To reach a point surpassing anger and devastation where the only way to cope is to feel nothing at all. Sam knows what that feels like, both on his own - albeit something far less literal than shutting off emotions - and because of how closely connected he is with Bucky.
There's something almost like relief when he feels Damon latch onto the breathing technique, when the rise and fall of their chests sync up. His eyes stay shut as he lets it all go, breathes in and out and lets it fade. He can't forget it anymore than Damon can, can't ever unlearn what it feels like to experience it, but he can bury it down somewhere no one else can touch it. ]
I don't know. It's not the usual kind of bleed over that happens sometimes, it's... [ It's happened a couple of times before, but not very many, and usually only with someone Sam already had a connection with. Except the one time it'd helped forge a connection, and if Sam hadn't already started that by letting Damon in his head, he can definitely feel it now. But ultimately, there's only one important thing about what it was. ] Not something I should have seen.
Nobody should have ever had to feel that kind of helpless, to watch the hope that someone would come fade into nothing. To reach a point surpassing anger and devastation where the only way to cope is to feel nothing at all. Sam knows what that feels like, both on his own - albeit something far less literal than shutting off emotions - and because of how closely connected he is with Bucky.
There's something almost like relief when he feels Damon latch onto the breathing technique, when the rise and fall of their chests sync up. His eyes stay shut as he lets it all go, breathes in and out and lets it fade. He can't forget it anymore than Damon can, can't ever unlearn what it feels like to experience it, but he can bury it down somewhere no one else can touch it. ]
I don't know. It's not the usual kind of bleed over that happens sometimes, it's... [ It's happened a couple of times before, but not very many, and usually only with someone Sam already had a connection with. Except the one time it'd helped forge a connection, and if Sam hadn't already started that by letting Damon in his head, he can definitely feel it now. But ultimately, there's only one important thing about what it was. ] Not something I should have seen.
For starters? Not thinking ahead.
[He shakes his head, before pushing his hands through his hair. He expected more of an offensive, more of an accusation than that. He was ready for it -- and maybe he deserved it.]
[A deep breath.]
I did what I thought I should. For the good of the mission -- for everyone else. And... didn't think.
I'm so used to that. And I know I need to stop... try to. I'm sorry I didn't catch myself in time. Or bring it up to the people who matter.
[He looks right at Sam, then. Letting the implication settle.]
I screwed up.
[He shakes his head, before pushing his hands through his hair. He expected more of an offensive, more of an accusation than that. He was ready for it -- and maybe he deserved it.]
[A deep breath.]
I did what I thought I should. For the good of the mission -- for everyone else. And... didn't think.
I'm so used to that. And I know I need to stop... try to. I'm sorry I didn't catch myself in time. Or bring it up to the people who matter.
[He looks right at Sam, then. Letting the implication settle.]
I screwed up.
( that it isn't something sam should have seen should go without saying. it's one of those useless things people say when they can't figure out what else to say, when they don't know what to do with the thing they've just been confronted with so they say the first, obvious thing that comes into their head. of course sam shouldn't have seen it, no one should have. damon's kept all that locked up for fifty years for a reason, and sam just stole it out of his head within seconds with no effort at all. it'd be very easy to be angry at him for it. to threaten him and hurt him and extract promises that he'll never talk about it again.
but being in sam's head has given him a little insight into the man, and damon knows already — threats aren't necessary. sam wouldn't talk about it with anyone even without damon insisting on it. he wouldn't even bring it up to damon if damon didn't do it first. he's one of those annoying conscientious, righteous people who care about things like the sanctity of one's mind and choice. usually it would bother damon, but when it's working in his favour, he can't exactly be mad about it. )
It was a long time ago. It doesn't matter now.
( maybe if damon says it enough, he'll believe it himself. sam's breathing technique has calmed him, by now, his pulse steady but slow, just like always, but he can still feel the terror that rocketed through him when he remembered whitmore's voice. )
Do we have to keep going or are we done?
( if necessary, he can hold it back, now. he knows where those memories sit, he can keep them to himself. if sam wants to keep going, damon will. this is important enough, he's invested enough in looking like he's fine, that he'll grit his teeth and jump back in.
he kind of hopes sam doesn't make him, though. )
but being in sam's head has given him a little insight into the man, and damon knows already — threats aren't necessary. sam wouldn't talk about it with anyone even without damon insisting on it. he wouldn't even bring it up to damon if damon didn't do it first. he's one of those annoying conscientious, righteous people who care about things like the sanctity of one's mind and choice. usually it would bother damon, but when it's working in his favour, he can't exactly be mad about it. )
It was a long time ago. It doesn't matter now.
( maybe if damon says it enough, he'll believe it himself. sam's breathing technique has calmed him, by now, his pulse steady but slow, just like always, but he can still feel the terror that rocketed through him when he remembered whitmore's voice. )
Do we have to keep going or are we done?
( if necessary, he can hold it back, now. he knows where those memories sit, he can keep them to himself. if sam wants to keep going, damon will. this is important enough, he's invested enough in looking like he's fine, that he'll grit his teeth and jump back in.
he kind of hopes sam doesn't make him, though. )
( I need a favour.
though damon tries to keep the request the only thing he sends through the link, he's too used to sharing freely with sam to hold back everything he's feeling. the anxious, scared buzz that hitches a ride with the words has a shape, a name — stefan's here, and he's human, and damon's not going to be able to keep both him and elena safe on his own. much as he hates the idea of introducing any of his friends to perfect, preferred stefan, this is a necessary evil. )
though damon tries to keep the request the only thing he sends through the link, he's too used to sharing freely with sam to hold back everything he's feeling. the anxious, scared buzz that hitches a ride with the words has a shape, a name — stefan's here, and he's human, and damon's not going to be able to keep both him and elena safe on his own. much as he hates the idea of introducing any of his friends to perfect, preferred stefan, this is a necessary evil. )
[At the back of the mind sits a knotted thread or a small, inert stone. And then the knot unravels. The stone becomes an egg and hatches. Something flexes in the interim and--]
( Are you well? )
[It's a sensation more than it is real, actual words. It's the feeling of sun on the back of the neck, of ozone scent recycled through systems as a ship pierces atmosphere, of snapping crackers between fingers for the enjoyment of the sound and texture of something crumbling. How far does Cathaway's mind reach? Far enough, apparently.]
( Are you well? )
[It's a sensation more than it is real, actual words. It's the feeling of sun on the back of the neck, of ozone scent recycled through systems as a ship pierces atmosphere, of snapping crackers between fingers for the enjoyment of the sound and texture of something crumbling. How far does Cathaway's mind reach? Far enough, apparently.]
[ It'll always matter. No matter how long ago it might have been, no matter how much it's shoved down and all but forgotten, it'll always matter.
He doesn't say that, but he's still connected enough with Damon that he doesn't have to for it to make it across. Or for the understanding that Sam's not going to push anyway, because just because it still matters and it'll have to be dealt with sometime doesn't mean that some time is now. There's a snippet of memory that bleeds through, the rush of a punch and the crunch of a broken nose under Sam's fist, the feeling that someone asked something they shouldn't have, pushed for something Sam wasn't ready to talk about. ]
We don't gotta keep going.
[ He won't say we're done, because they're not. Maybe they're not breathing in sync any more, but his connection with Damon is undeniably stronger than it'd been before they were in each other's heads. Sam knew that going in, though maybe not to this extent, and he could still pull away now if he wanted to, probably, but he doesn't. ]
I know what it feels like, dissociating like that. There's a reason I knew those tricks to try to bring me back, you know? You don't gotta talk to me about anything, but if you wanna practice them, I'll be here. Turns out they're pretty good at helping with all this shit.
He doesn't say that, but he's still connected enough with Damon that he doesn't have to for it to make it across. Or for the understanding that Sam's not going to push anyway, because just because it still matters and it'll have to be dealt with sometime doesn't mean that some time is now. There's a snippet of memory that bleeds through, the rush of a punch and the crunch of a broken nose under Sam's fist, the feeling that someone asked something they shouldn't have, pushed for something Sam wasn't ready to talk about. ]
We don't gotta keep going.
[ He won't say we're done, because they're not. Maybe they're not breathing in sync any more, but his connection with Damon is undeniably stronger than it'd been before they were in each other's heads. Sam knew that going in, though maybe not to this extent, and he could still pull away now if he wanted to, probably, but he doesn't. ]
I know what it feels like, dissociating like that. There's a reason I knew those tricks to try to bring me back, you know? You don't gotta talk to me about anything, but if you wanna practice them, I'll be here. Turns out they're pretty good at helping with all this shit.
[ At first, there's the instinct to reply teasingly, to ask Damon just what kind of favor he's asking for or tell him that he's gotta buy him dinner first, but it fades rapidly when he picks up on that anxiety. He hasn't really seen Damon scared since he stumbled on the memories buried in his mind, and that sobers him pretty quick.
Stefan's here, he catches, a name and a face, and he remembers snippets of those memories, remembers Damon's certainty that Stefan'd find him and feeling that hope crumble to nothing.
It's... pointless to feel a little disgruntled at this Stefan guy for that, when if he's worth the care that Damon obviously has for him, he probably feels like shit for it anyway - and god knows Sam himself gets just how easy it is to try so hard to be good enough to save someone and somehow never quite make it - but it's there anyway. ]
( I got you baby doll, what do you need? ) [ Serious or not, the playful pet name slips out, just in habit. ]
Stefan's here, he catches, a name and a face, and he remembers snippets of those memories, remembers Damon's certainty that Stefan'd find him and feeling that hope crumble to nothing.
It's... pointless to feel a little disgruntled at this Stefan guy for that, when if he's worth the care that Damon obviously has for him, he probably feels like shit for it anyway - and god knows Sam himself gets just how easy it is to try so hard to be good enough to save someone and somehow never quite make it - but it's there anyway. ]
( I got you baby doll, what do you need? ) [ Serious or not, the playful pet name slips out, just in habit. ]
[ There's a faint note of surprise when he feels Cathway's presence in his mind. The sensation of a question rather than the actual words isn't as unsettling as it would have been before Sam developed his connection with some people enough to start using it himself, but it still is a little. Because it's Cathaway, and he doesn't know her as well as anyone else he's used wordless communication with. And because he'd thought they were too far out of range.
Most of his impression of her is formed from the minds of other people, from what he's picked up on their perceptions of her. But he's thought for a while that he should change that, so he actually answers that question instead of brushing it off. ]
( Well as can be expected when I only half know what I'm doing most of the time. Feels like I've had a headache since I first got here, though. )
Most of his impression of her is formed from the minds of other people, from what he's picked up on their perceptions of her. But he's thought for a while that he should change that, so he actually answers that question instead of brushing it off. ]
( Well as can be expected when I only half know what I'm doing most of the time. Feels like I've had a headache since I first got here, though. )
( amusement trickles through the link at the pet name, but damon doesn't respond in kind — he's too focused, too anxious, for silliness like that.
ways you know something is seriously wrong, tbh.
My brother is here. Stefan.
though the words filter through the link reluctantly, like half of damon doesn't want sam to get them at all, they do get through. each syllable is a miasma of feeling, protectiveness and concern, guilt and insecurity, all duking it out for prominence. damon is usually better at holding his emotions back than that, but stefan tears down his walls all the time, merely by existing. it's impossible to be the person he wants to be with stefan around to measure himself against, and damon doesn't look forward to having to be the bad brother to fulfill his role.
he doesn't really look forward to having to watch stefan and elena get the human happily ever after they've always wanted, either.
I can look after him or Elena, I can't do both. They're both stubborn morons with more heart than sense and they'll do something stupid eventually. I need you to help me keep an eye on them. )
ways you know something is seriously wrong, tbh.
My brother is here. Stefan.
though the words filter through the link reluctantly, like half of damon doesn't want sam to get them at all, they do get through. each syllable is a miasma of feeling, protectiveness and concern, guilt and insecurity, all duking it out for prominence. damon is usually better at holding his emotions back than that, but stefan tears down his walls all the time, merely by existing. it's impossible to be the person he wants to be with stefan around to measure himself against, and damon doesn't look forward to having to be the bad brother to fulfill his role.
he doesn't really look forward to having to watch stefan and elena get the human happily ever after they've always wanted, either.
I can look after him or Elena, I can't do both. They're both stubborn morons with more heart than sense and they'll do something stupid eventually. I need you to help me keep an eye on them. )
[A flush of fever covered by a cool, damp cloth. A small stone plunking into a river. The interminable press of waiting in a zero gravity suit and vacuum helmet, feeling the hollowness of space all around while being slowly winched in toward an air lock--]
( Likely bleed from your brood or the younger hosts. It should eventually fade. How goes Waypoint Shell? )
[Not strictly a social call, then.]
( Likely bleed from your brood or the younger hosts. It should eventually fade. How goes Waypoint Shell? )
[Not strictly a social call, then.]
[ There's a lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when he spots Sam, and nothing but the smallest pulse of surprise at the embrace as he returns it with the sort of natural ease reserved for maybe three other people in the entire multiverse.
One bad connection and he could've lost Sam - everyone else. All in the space of an eyeblink.
Those thoughts hover, then dissipate, pushed aside in favor of the present. Polite shields find their place again, and he pulls back a bit from Sam's grip to look him over again. ]
Looks I'm not too late for the party... [ The street is bustling around them with activity, someone bumping his elbow as they powerwalk past on four legs. ]
One bad connection and he could've lost Sam - everyone else. All in the space of an eyeblink.
Those thoughts hover, then dissipate, pushed aside in favor of the present. Polite shields find their place again, and he pulls back a bit from Sam's grip to look him over again. ]
Looks I'm not too late for the party... [ The street is bustling around them with activity, someone bumping his elbow as they powerwalk past on four legs. ]
( Me too. ) [ There's a quiet moment of melancholy, where it's clear that he misses his team, that he wishes he was back home. He almost leaves it at that, mindful of the last time he tried to open up to her, but... he can't say he wishes he'd never come here, that he'd never met the people he's met here. ] ( But it's different for me. I came here to save my team, and even back home, there's not really anywhere else for me to go. )
Page 14 of 30