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[viking_seer]

"Anderson here. Leave a message and I'll get back to you. Thanks."

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[hostileterritory]

He circles closer to the couch, studying the rusty patterns he left there. "I'd kill you again, I expect. Or you'd find a way to stop that from happening, and I'd be... in trouble."

The impulse is to say fucked, but he's too polite to do it in front of Saga.

[viking_seer]

"In trouble with who, exactly?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. Oh, she knows the name of the project, has some idea where and how in the government he might be 'in trouble'. But like hell is any of it coming out of her right now. Not until they get through this.

"And why would you do that? After all, there's no one here to enforce security clearance protocols. You wouldn't be court marshaled for anything that happened here. Why would you do any of that?"

[hostileterritory]

Still nothing. He's getting visibly uneasy now, though it translates to him as a general agitation, a tingle of temper and anxiety not severe enough to set off alarm bells in his psyche.

"Because I have to. I don't have a-- a choice. That's the order I was given."

[viking_seer]

She's very quiet after that, because saying anything right after that- maybe it isn't, but it would feel flippant. Feel like she's taunting him. She doesn't want to do that. Instead, she's going to let him digest the words that came out of his mouth for a moment and keep her voice low.

"If you can, can you tell me who gave you that order?"

"Was it Lance Reddick?"

[hostileterritory]

"His codename was Mr Door."

"Major Carver," he says. And then stops. Makes a softly baffled sound before looking Saga in the face for the first time since he walked in. "How...? Did-- Have you-- Did the Admiral...?"

No, he's not exactly being clear or remotely making sense but he's a little bit in shock. This isn't a dream. It's not a phantom space where the rules don't apply, where he can trick himself into thinking things don't count there.

"I was under his command as part of--" Nope, still nothing to stop him. He tests the words, very quietly, something uneasy climbing into his chest and settling there. "Project Aegolius. It was a... a research program."

[viking_seer]

"Dad, why are you like this?"

She shakes her head.

"I haven't asked the Admiral for anything about you yet. So."

She's going to gesture to her table, and to the other chair across from her. Maybe they can sit and talk now. She'll wait for him to sit before she does.

"Can I get you some coffee or anything?"

[hostileterritory]

He sort of drops into the chair more than sits down. The empty feeling in his chest is... different than usual.

"Uh. No, ma'am. Thank you."

[viking_seer]

"All right."

She just watches him for a moment, eyes dark and thoughtful, content to let him work things out inside. She's going to let him relax.

She's pretty sure this is the first time he's been able to do that very thing for a while.

[hostileterritory]

He slowly looks at her again, looks over at the couch, then back at Saga.

"I... Wh- The project I was part of..." The words trail off, because there's an unsettling giddiness to the idea that he can say it. It's different than the dream. Unpleasant, somehow, but he doesn't know how. "I was uh... they conditioned us not to- to speak about it."

[viking_seer]

"I figured it was something like that," she says, her voice soft, her eyes flickering over at the couch. She remembers what happened there but she's wondering what has him thinking about it.

"But it seems like, for whatever reason, that conditioning is allowing you to talk to me."

[hostileterritory]

Ah, this is easy enough. Confirmation of obvious fact. "Yes, ma'am."

There's some half-formed reasoning as to why, but he can't get anything to coalesce through the shock yet. There's something else, too, a worry that whatever is protecting Saga right now won't last.

[viking_seer]

She's quiet for a long while before looking over at David.

"Can you tell me what's going through your mind right now, David? Or at least-" she swallows once before she goes through with the words she'd chosen, "or at least what's troubling you. You look like you're waiting for another shoe to drop."

[hostileterritory]

He looks up at her, startled, less at the questions than the bit about shoes dropping.

"I suppose I am." A pause while he tries to sort out the jumble of thoughts she asked about. "Uh. I'm... surprised. To my knowledge I'd killed anyone that I could talk to without limitations."

[viking_seer]

She doesn't look all that disturbed by that. Or, again, surprised. Instead, she walks over and very slowly, deliberately, carefully, reaches down to put her hand on his shoulder, her fingers barely touching, no heavier than a tiny bird.

"But you don't want to kill me." A pause before she works out the rest. "You're worried something might change and you'll have to?"

[hostileterritory]

"Yes, ma'am." It's very soft, both because he is worried and because it feels strange to admit it. It feels like something that should get a reprimand, being concerned that his programming will work the way it's meant to. "I suppose generally I prefer not to kill people."

Not that it bothers him to do it if needs be.

[viking_seer]

She leave her hand there. And she nods.

"I'm glad to hear that."

She's okay with that. She's fired on human beings before. She also prefers not to. That doesn't mean she won't.

"Then how about this: we change the safe to you. We go through a week, and we have tea or coffee and chat once a day. And if the end of the week, you haven't felt the urge to hurt me, we tentatively move forward and discuss the file, and everything else, without worrying about whether you'll be forced to hurt me. Sound like a plan?"

[hostileterritory]

He looks at her hand on his shoulder, not annoyed, more bemused again. Feels nice, he'd said, he remembers that. Her hand on his shoulder feels nice too, and all at once he thinks of John. John, telling David that he'd grabbed him a lot and wanted to give him a hug, to touch David for his own sake. Hanna, sharing ear buds and a pillow.

"Yes ma'am. Uh. That makes sense."

[viking_seer]

"All right. So let's get the safe changed. And then we'll deal with some logistics."

She's going to give his shoulder a little squeeze and wait for him to stand. When he does, she'll lead the way over.

[hostileterritory]

He follows her over, the empty starting to normalize a little as he relaxes into this shifted reality.

"We don't have to change it. I appreciate you being willing."

[viking_seer]

She pauses before acknowledging with a nod.

"Okay." The smile comes back a little more. "Then we can go right to logistics."

She looks down at him.

"Do you feel like you have the means to defend yourself?"

[hostileterritory]

Things he expected her to ask: not that.

"I-" Pause, sort thoughts. "I'm at a disadvantage here I'm not used to."

[viking_seer]

"Tell me more about that?" because that could mean a lot of things. She has a few ideas, but she'll always prefer the horse's mouth.

[hostileterritory]

"Uh, well." He wanders back to the table but doesn't sit, instead standing behind his chair with both hands braced lightly on the back.

"I could heal a bit, before. Didn't have to be as cautious about personal injuries. I'm not as... as fast here. Can't move the kind of weight I'm used to moving."

He scratches the back of his neck with one hand. "Senses are duller. Taste already was, taste and touch, but now I can't hear or see as well as before either."

David clears his throat, looking a little like he was just forced to admit he wet his bed or something. "So there's that. And then not having a traditional weapon, though I can make do in that regard."

[viking_seer]

She nods along as he goes, and when he's done-

"How would you feel about me restoring your abilities and your senses, as well as your healing factor?" She'll give him a moment before- "And I'd like to provide you with a weapon, but we'd need to talk about that a little more."

[hostileterritory]

Maybe his hearing is worse than he thought. With the air of 'I beg your pardon':

"...Ma'am?"