[ Aoba shoots him a look (see icon) when he says it's not all that bad. Sam knows he knows - he can't lie to him about what his own migraines feel like.
But for that reason, he says nothing. Turns back to the wall-mounted touch screen to call the front desk about extending his stay. Though he can't help the overly polite sales-voice that kicks in the moment he gets an answer, he's careful to keep his tone as quiet as possible. He even presses the end call button delicately, knowing every sound is going to be hell for Sam for... well, for however long this lasts. His headaches can be so unpredictable.
Like they have a mind of their own sometimes.
He looks back to Sam as he explains, and that earns him a slight and defeated sigh. ]
I guess that makes sense.
[ Taking on every piece of pain through touch without control has to be a hell of it's own. Hopefully Sam is right in that practicing will help him gain some power over it. For now right now though, he he needs to rest after taking on so much.
Aoba doesn't say anything else, still trying to be quiet, but he gets to work. Pulls a sheet over Sam wordlessly, then moves to turn off the rest of the lights in the room and make sure the curtains are closed all the way. Once that's done, he picks up his secondary datapad takes it to a chair in the corner, where he sits with it propped against his knee. He even switches off the volume and turns down the brightness.
It probably doesn't take being mentally linked at the brainstem to tell how guilty he's feeling, if his silence and efforts are any indicator. Though it could also just be that he's trying to be kind and decent. His mental walls of static and noise are up - Sam wouldn't want to try moving past them right now. ]
[ It makes a hell of a lot of sense - although granted, Sam can't deny that he might have made the offer even if he didn't need to figure out how this thing worked so he could control it.
He sure as hell isn't trying to get past Aoba's shields. His focus is on keeping his own up so he doesn't leak the headache to Aoba or his brood, and on taking slow, deep breaths to distract himself from the pain. Time skips a little, and he honestly couldn't say how much has passed before he realizes Aoba's all but relegated himself to the corner.
Sam lets out a long exhale. ]
All right, now I know why I like you. Lord knows I got a type.
[ It's people who have the weight of the world on their shoulders and never seem to be open to the idea that others might wanna help them carry it - or on a smaller scale, those with hearts so big they got a hell of a lot of room for guilt they shouldn't have to hold. ]
I can feel you being guilty from all the way over here, don't do that. Let me take responsibility for my own damn actions.
[ Aoba looks up from over the edge of the screen, frowning in the dim blue light of it. He doesn't want to make any more noise, doesn't need any more reason to feel like he's ruined Sam's day, but that... what an odd thing to say. His type?
He doesn't comment on it though - Sam feeling his internalized guilt is stranger. ]
Are my mental walls not strong enough? I can... go wait in the lobby, or...
[ He doesn't feel Sam poking around in his head, (he'd know by the pain, wouldn't he?) but if he's still bothered by how he's feeling, he can create some more distance between them. ]
Mmm, okay, good, that's the part we're gonna focus on.
[ Sorry, Aoba. Sam's sassy in general, and it gets a little worse when he's in pain. But his tone softens with his next words, and he makes an abortive gesture that's almost like he's reaching out for Aoba before he realizes that moving is a terrible idea. ]
I didn't mean it literally. I just meant - I hate that you're feeling bad over something I wanted to do to help.
[ He shifts in the oversized hotel chair uncomfortably. Maybe he's grown too used to people knowing what he's feeling just from reading his thoughts, not his actions. With a sigh, he slides his finger across the datapad, flipping a page of what he's reading. Trying to ignore Sam, so he can rest. ]
I know you have to practice it, but I wouldn't have called you here if I knew what was going to happen to you. Even if you wanted to help... my headaches are my own problem, so I shouldn't have...
[ Shouldn't have been so selfish. Sam can bet he won't be asking for his help when the next headache comes. Or the next. Not unless it's mild, and can help Sam practice without hurting him much. This isn't what he asked for, not the help he wanted. ]
Doesn't have to be just your problem, not if you've got someone who wants to help you with it.
[ It's quiet, and not just because talking louder isn't a great idea right now. He honestly doesn't think Aoba will believe him or take him up on it, but he means it. It's what Sam does: makes other people's problems his own. He made his peace with that a long time ago.
That doesn't mean Aoba doesn't have a point about being informed, though, and Sam groans a little. ]
But you're right, it wasn't fair to spring this on you like this. I should've warned you. Easy for me to say it, but I probably wouldn't be happy with someone doing this for me either, so m'sorry.
[ The apology helps. Aoba isn't one for petty grudges. Though his exterior remains the same - cranky and brooding - his mood softens. Forgiveness washes over his thoughts easily like water, cool and refreshing. ]
It's all right. I should be thanking you again anyway. So... thank you. I hope it gets easier to control soon...
[ He still makes no move from his self seclusion in the corner, going back to what he was reading briefly. Another polarized report on how damaging allowing androids equal rights in the workforce would be. He's trying to be quiet, but a small sigh escapes him as he closes the tab, wondering why he was reading this garbage in the first place. ]
[ His head still hurts, but some of the tension in him eases at that forgiveness, and he melts back into the bed. He doesn't like the idea of Aoba mad at him over this, even if he's reluctantly accepting that it means he probably won't let him help with the headaches much anymore. ]
Me too. Can't even patch people up the normal way, man, it sucks.
[ But that's not the point - well, not really the point - and Sam cracks one eye open to try to gauge how much the light feels like stabbing. Less than the last time he opened his eyes, which he's taking as a good sign. ]
Yeah, it's starting to. How long've you had these?
[ His mind hums, struggling to remember. It's not much use. There's only a few fuzzy images and a big long blank space. It feels like he's always had these headaches, even though he knows that can't be true.
He'd still rather not bore Sam with his medical history, but if he's being honest it's not just boring. It's also not all there. ]
Since I can remember. Which... isn't much. I did a lot of bad stuff when I was younger... I hung out with gangs and did drugs, but I don't remember details. I was in an accident a long time ago, and I've had headaches ever since.
[ It's as detailed as he knows it to be. Though his definition of a long time is probably a little off the mark. ]
[ Sam's brows furrow a little at the response, and then he regrets that, smoothing them back out and sweeping his hand over his forehead. He takes the bit about gangs and drugs in stride - really, it's not like he knows Aoba that well, and it'd be hypocritical if it bothered him - filing it away as focuses on the other part. ]
Like a head injury kind of accident?
[ That'd explain a lot, both for the headaches and the fuzzy details on stuff before it happened. Which he's guessing Aoba already knows, if he's seen any kind of medical professional about it, so he doesn't say that part. ]
[ For a moment he falls silent again in the dark, his mind humming slightly with thought but... again, there's nothing but a blank. ]
It must have been. Sorry, I... really don't have any clear memories of it.
[ A sigh. He doesn't enjoy talking about this, but... if Sam is going to keep questioning and healing him in the future, he might as well let him know the few details he has. ]
I just remember waking up in the hospital and seeing my granny there. Granny... never really shows how worried she gets, but... that day, she was crying. Whatever bad stuff I was doing before really hurt her, so I promised to never make her worry like that ever again.
After that, we went to a lot of doctors... well, as many as we could see on our small island. None of them found anything wrong with my head, but Granny is a nurse. I don't know exactly what's in it, but she made up an herbal medicine that works for my headaches. Cathaway was able to have it replicated, but... sometimes it's not strong enough.
[ Sam rolls over, a little, just enough that he can focus on Aoba when he cracks open his eyes. He's blocking pretty good, but he doesn't need a mental connection to be able to tell that Aoba's uncomfortable talking about it. The least he can do is actually listen. ]
Some of the people I used to work with back home, they had some of the same stuff after a head injury. Headaches, memory issues, sometimes confusion or blackouts - couple of 'em even had different personality traits. It's a lot, man, sounds like you're dealing with it best you can.
[ He pauses for a moment, almost leaves it there, but he can't help but add, ] You don't gotta tell me anymore if you don't want to, though, didn't mean to pry. But, uh. You think about getting some doctors take a look while we're here?
[ He can see Sam's gaze on him, glinting in the dark of the room. He has to look away from it, down at his hands in his lap. ]
Thank you... Um, I haven't thought of that, but... if I did see a doctor here, wouldn't they find the symbiote? And then they'd have questions, and...
[ He pauses to take a breath. Calm himself back down. No, he can't see a doctor for his headaches here, or back home, or on any world they might visit later. His life and health are in the hands of the Nest, just like every host. ]
I'll just... wait till we're back on the station so Cathaway can run the tests she promised.
[ He's resigned to it, but not despairing. The station has some of the most advanced equipment he's ever seen. Surely something there could figure out what's going on and help his headaches.
Something besides Sam absorbing them and hurting himself. Aoba leans forward, hands together, elbows resting on his thighs. ]
Yeah, I feel you. God knows what they'd see, or want to do about it.
[ Although it brings up a point that Sam's curious about: can they see the symbiote with medical tech? Could they pinpoint where it was, the changes it had made to them and was still making?
It's a moot point, unless they had someone they trusted to run the tests - and anyone Sam might even consider is back home - but he still wonders about it. He's still thinking it over when Aoba asks how he's feeling, and it takes him a moment to answer, tentatively propping himself up on his elbows. ]
Better, it's getting better. You- [ He hesitates for a moment, considering if this is really something he wants to ask. But he tells himself he's being unreasonable, that being here and the shit that went down before he got here are making him paranoid, and he goes for it. ]
[ He's glad to hear the pain is easing away. He was about to suggest opening a curtain or slowly sitting up to see how much of it is really gone, but Sam's question throws his thoughts somewhere he wasn't expecting. An answer comes slowly, though only because he takes his time to carefully think it through. ]
We don't really have a choice, do we? But... none of them have given me a reason not to trust them. Cathaway is taking care of my medicine, Carata's been nice, Nirad is... hard to understand but really receptive, and Prince, he... he actually saved my life when I got into some trouble back on Avera. So I guess... even without a choice, I do trust them.
[ It's honest and straightforward. He tilts his head slightly to one side, still peering at Sam. ]
[ He tips his chin slightly in acknowledgment of that. No, they don't really have a choice. But there's a difference in trusting them as far as they have to and trusting them with other things: like that they're telling them everything about the symbiote, or that they're not pushing some other agenda. At best, Sam figures they're sincere in their fight against the Enemy and want to protect innocents, but also more likely to put the Nest before anything else, including each of them individually. At worst - well, in his more paranoid times, he wonders about the timeliness of his rescue, the way he took his deal to save his team and half of them ended up here anyway, how he hasn't seen any sign of this Enemy since he arrived on the station.
But he listens to Aoba, and when his kneejerk reaction to that is they haven't given me a reason to trust them, either, he realizes that maybe today is one of his more paranoid times.
He pushes himself carefully up into a sitting position, holding still for a moment until his head stops protesting the move, a runs a hand over the back of his neck. ]
I got burned, little bit before I came here, by someone I thought I could trust. I guess I'm a little more gunshy than usual.
[ And he has a thing against following people whose agendas he doesn't know or potentially agree with, but that's not something he wants to go into. ]
[ Aoba is being careful to stay out of Sam's mind while he's still in pain. For that, he takes what's said at face value without delving any deeper. Though there's a sense of heartache behind the words, and he doesn't need the symbiote to detect it. His expression falls as Sam's hardens. ]
I'm sorry that happened... I can't imagine...
[ He's been lucky not to have experienced much betrayal in life. His home was small, with good friends and only his grandmother to call family. And Sam is so kind, Aoba can hardly think of anyone wanting to hurt him.
He certainly never wants to. ]
I'm sure whatever happens, they mean well. I have to believe that.
[ He has to, just for the sake of remaining positive in this still new and uncertain place. The Nest. ]
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sizeofyourbaggage) wrote2016-05-22 03:26 pm
no subject
But for that reason, he says nothing. Turns back to the wall-mounted touch screen to call the front desk about extending his stay. Though he can't help the overly polite sales-voice that kicks in the moment he gets an answer, he's careful to keep his tone as quiet as possible. He even presses the end call button delicately, knowing every sound is going to be hell for Sam for... well, for however long this lasts. His headaches can be so unpredictable.
Like they have a mind of their own sometimes.
He looks back to Sam as he explains, and that earns him a slight and defeated sigh. ]
I guess that makes sense.
[ Taking on every piece of pain through touch without control has to be a hell of it's own. Hopefully Sam is right in that practicing will help him gain some power over it. For now right now though, he he needs to rest after taking on so much.
Aoba doesn't say anything else, still trying to be quiet, but he gets to work. Pulls a sheet over Sam wordlessly, then moves to turn off the rest of the lights in the room and make sure the curtains are closed all the way. Once that's done, he picks up his secondary datapad takes it to a chair in the corner, where he sits with it propped against his knee. He even switches off the volume and turns down the brightness.
It probably doesn't take being mentally linked at the brainstem to tell how guilty he's feeling, if his silence and efforts are any indicator. Though it could also just be that he's trying to be kind and decent. His mental walls of static and noise are up - Sam wouldn't want to try moving past them right now. ]
no subject
He sure as hell isn't trying to get past Aoba's shields. His focus is on keeping his own up so he doesn't leak the headache to Aoba or his brood, and on taking slow, deep breaths to distract himself from the pain. Time skips a little, and he honestly couldn't say how much has passed before he realizes Aoba's all but relegated himself to the corner.
Sam lets out a long exhale. ]
All right, now I know why I like you. Lord knows I got a type.
[ It's people who have the weight of the world on their shoulders and never seem to be open to the idea that others might wanna help them carry it - or on a smaller scale, those with hearts so big they got a hell of a lot of room for guilt they shouldn't have to hold. ]
I can feel you being guilty from all the way over here, don't do that. Let me take responsibility for my own damn actions.
no subject
He doesn't comment on it though - Sam feeling his internalized guilt is stranger. ]
Are my mental walls not strong enough? I can... go wait in the lobby, or...
[ He doesn't feel Sam poking around in his head, (he'd know by the pain, wouldn't he?) but if he's still bothered by how he's feeling, he can create some more distance between them. ]
no subject
[ Sorry, Aoba. Sam's sassy in general, and it gets a little worse when he's in pain. But his tone softens with his next words, and he makes an abortive gesture that's almost like he's reaching out for Aoba before he realizes that moving is a terrible idea. ]
I didn't mean it literally. I just meant - I hate that you're feeling bad over something I wanted to do to help.
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I know you have to practice it, but I wouldn't have called you here if I knew what was going to happen to you. Even if you wanted to help... my headaches are my own problem, so I shouldn't have...
[ Shouldn't have been so selfish. Sam can bet he won't be asking for his help when the next headache comes. Or the next. Not unless it's mild, and can help Sam practice without hurting him much. This isn't what he asked for, not the help he wanted. ]
no subject
[ It's quiet, and not just because talking louder isn't a great idea right now. He honestly doesn't think Aoba will believe him or take him up on it, but he means it. It's what Sam does: makes other people's problems his own. He made his peace with that a long time ago.
That doesn't mean Aoba doesn't have a point about being informed, though, and Sam groans a little. ]
But you're right, it wasn't fair to spring this on you like this. I should've warned you. Easy for me to say it, but I probably wouldn't be happy with someone doing this for me either, so m'sorry.
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It's all right. I should be thanking you again anyway. So... thank you. I hope it gets easier to control soon...
[ He still makes no move from his self seclusion in the corner, going back to what he was reading briefly. Another polarized report on how damaging allowing androids equal rights in the workforce would be. He's trying to be quiet, but a small sigh escapes him as he closes the tab, wondering why he was reading this garbage in the first place. ]
Is it... starting to feel any better?
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Me too. Can't even patch people up the normal way, man, it sucks.
[ But that's not the point - well, not really the point - and Sam cracks one eye open to try to gauge how much the light feels like stabbing. Less than the last time he opened his eyes, which he's taking as a good sign. ]
Yeah, it's starting to. How long've you had these?
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[ His mind hums, struggling to remember. It's not much use. There's only a few fuzzy images and a big long blank space. It feels like he's always had these headaches, even though he knows that can't be true.
He'd still rather not bore Sam with his medical history, but if he's being honest it's not just boring. It's also not all there. ]
Since I can remember. Which... isn't much. I did a lot of bad stuff when I was younger... I hung out with gangs and did drugs, but I don't remember details. I was in an accident a long time ago, and I've had headaches ever since.
[ It's as detailed as he knows it to be. Though his definition of a long time is probably a little off the mark. ]
no subject
Like a head injury kind of accident?
[ That'd explain a lot, both for the headaches and the fuzzy details on stuff before it happened. Which he's guessing Aoba already knows, if he's seen any kind of medical professional about it, so he doesn't say that part. ]
no subject
It must have been. Sorry, I... really don't have any clear memories of it.
[ A sigh. He doesn't enjoy talking about this, but... if Sam is going to keep questioning and healing him in the future, he might as well let him know the few details he has. ]
I just remember waking up in the hospital and seeing my granny there. Granny... never really shows how worried she gets, but... that day, she was crying. Whatever bad stuff I was doing before really hurt her, so I promised to never make her worry like that ever again.
After that, we went to a lot of doctors... well, as many as we could see on our small island. None of them found anything wrong with my head, but Granny is a nurse. I don't know exactly what's in it, but she made up an herbal medicine that works for my headaches. Cathaway was able to have it replicated, but... sometimes it's not strong enough.
no subject
Some of the people I used to work with back home, they had some of the same stuff after a head injury. Headaches, memory issues, sometimes confusion or blackouts - couple of 'em even had different personality traits. It's a lot, man, sounds like you're dealing with it best you can.
[ He pauses for a moment, almost leaves it there, but he can't help but add, ] You don't gotta tell me anymore if you don't want to, though, didn't mean to pry. But, uh. You think about getting some doctors take a look while we're here?
no subject
Thank you... Um, I haven't thought of that, but... if I did see a doctor here, wouldn't they find the symbiote? And then they'd have questions, and...
[ He pauses to take a breath. Calm himself back down. No, he can't see a doctor for his headaches here, or back home, or on any world they might visit later. His life and health are in the hands of the Nest, just like every host. ]
I'll just... wait till we're back on the station so Cathaway can run the tests she promised.
[ He's resigned to it, but not despairing. The station has some of the most advanced equipment he's ever seen. Surely something there could figure out what's going on and help his headaches.
Something besides Sam absorbing them and hurting himself. Aoba leans forward, hands together, elbows resting on his thighs. ]
How is your head feeling?
no subject
[ Although it brings up a point that Sam's curious about: can they see the symbiote with medical tech? Could they pinpoint where it was, the changes it had made to them and was still making?
It's a moot point, unless they had someone they trusted to run the tests - and anyone Sam might even consider is back home - but he still wonders about it. He's still thinking it over when Aoba asks how he's feeling, and it takes him a moment to answer, tentatively propping himself up on his elbows. ]
Better, it's getting better. You- [ He hesitates for a moment, considering if this is really something he wants to ask. But he tells himself he's being unreasonable, that being here and the shit that went down before he got here are making him paranoid, and he goes for it. ]
You trust the older Hosts?
no subject
[ He's glad to hear the pain is easing away. He was about to suggest opening a curtain or slowly sitting up to see how much of it is really gone, but Sam's question throws his thoughts somewhere he wasn't expecting. An answer comes slowly, though only because he takes his time to carefully think it through. ]
We don't really have a choice, do we? But... none of them have given me a reason not to trust them. Cathaway is taking care of my medicine, Carata's been nice, Nirad is... hard to understand but really receptive, and Prince, he... he actually saved my life when I got into some trouble back on Avera. So I guess... even without a choice, I do trust them.
[ It's honest and straightforward. He tilts his head slightly to one side, still peering at Sam. ]
Why?
no subject
But he listens to Aoba, and when his kneejerk reaction to that is they haven't given me a reason to trust them, either, he realizes that maybe today is one of his more paranoid times.
He pushes himself carefully up into a sitting position, holding still for a moment until his head stops protesting the move, a runs a hand over the back of his neck. ]
I got burned, little bit before I came here, by someone I thought I could trust. I guess I'm a little more gunshy than usual.
[ And he has a thing against following people whose agendas he doesn't know or potentially agree with, but that's not something he wants to go into. ]
no subject
I'm sorry that happened... I can't imagine...
[ He's been lucky not to have experienced much betrayal in life. His home was small, with good friends and only his grandmother to call family. And Sam is so kind, Aoba can hardly think of anyone wanting to hurt him.
He certainly never wants to. ]
I'm sure whatever happens, they mean well. I have to believe that.
[ He has to, just for the sake of remaining positive in this still new and uncertain place. The Nest. ]