[ He huffs, uncrossing his ankles. Yeah, he wishes. ] Only six?
[ A good night's sleep is rare in his book, anyway, but even he's starting to feel it. He went from a few quiet months in the middle of nowhere to watching both their backs. Hers, more than his own.
He expects she'll leave it there. That fine by him. He's already moved past their conversationā€”sure as hell isn't searching for an apologyā€”so when she starts, it takes him a second to realize what she's doing. He closes the book. Lets her say her piece. The truth is, he doesn't need her to get it. All this, the mutants and the humans, it'sā€”bullshit. Been going on since the dawn of time. And him, he's not a bigger picture person. He sees a handful of assholes fucking up some kids. That's where he's at. He's not thinking about the pieces on the board. He doesn't know what justice is supposed to look like for them, either.
But he knows what it looks like to him.
Her hand's warm on his arm, and not for the first time, he wonders what any of this means. It's not her fight. That's what he wants to say. It's not her fight. Damn it, he wishes he could be the kinda guy who'd tell her, Yeah, I trust you. Let's do it together. And it's not as though he doesn't trust her. He does. It's justā€”
He's always been so shit with people sticking around. People promising after. Who want to be here, for some godforsaken reason, when they shouldn't. The more she assures him she's not going anywhere, the less certain he becomes thisā€”this, between them, him feeling like he needs her help (needs her) as much as she needs hisā€”is a good idea. Noting he wants is ever a good fucking idea. The world's taught him that much.
He swallows. ] We'll get your story. [ Maybe that's not the answer she really wants from him, but it's the best he manages to dig out. ] I'm gonna make sure of that.
[ The after...guess he'll see if there ends up being one. Still, there's a pause, a second where he looks at her a little too long. He moves without thinking, his hand covering hers. ]
no subject
[ A good night's sleep is rare in his book, anyway, but even he's starting to feel it. He went from a few quiet months in the middle of nowhere to watching both their backs. Hers, more than his own.
He expects she'll leave it there. That fine by him. He's already moved past their conversationā€”sure as hell isn't searching for an apologyā€”so when she starts, it takes him a second to realize what she's doing. He closes the book. Lets her say her piece. The truth is, he doesn't need her to get it. All this, the mutants and the humans, it'sā€”bullshit. Been going on since the dawn of time. And him, he's not a bigger picture person. He sees a handful of assholes fucking up some kids. That's where he's at. He's not thinking about the pieces on the board. He doesn't know what justice is supposed to look like for them, either.
But he knows what it looks like to him.
Her hand's warm on his arm, and not for the first time, he wonders what any of this means. It's not her fight. That's what he wants to say. It's not her fight. Damn it, he wishes he could be the kinda guy who'd tell her, Yeah, I trust you. Let's do it together. And it's not as though he doesn't trust her. He does. It's justā€”
He's always been so shit with people sticking around. People promising after. Who want to be here, for some godforsaken reason, when they shouldn't. The more she assures him she's not going anywhere, the less certain he becomes thisā€”this, between them, him feeling like he needs her help (needs her) as much as she needs hisā€”is a good idea. Noting he wants is ever a good fucking idea. The world's taught him that much.
He swallows. ] We'll get your story. [ Maybe that's not the answer she really wants from him, but it's the best he manages to dig out. ] I'm gonna make sure of that.
[ The after...guess he'll see if there ends up being one. Still, there's a pause, a second where he looks at her a little too long. He moves without thinking, his hand covering hers. ]
Heyā€”thank you.