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"Yes ma'am," he says, very very quietly. There's a thread of paranoia that saying it aloud means it will get back to Caleb somehow.

He takes a carefully measured breath.

"I uh. I'm not sure..." A long pause while he fixes on a point of nothing across the room. "Do we have a- a plan for anyone who might not want to stay on this ship?"

Assuming they're actually headed for the Admiral. Assuming a lot of things.

"Right now, from what I can pick up, there's a lot of concern over whether we're going to be able to get back to our ship," she says honestly, "but I don't know what the options are for switching ships if someone from here wants to come with us back to the Barge. Are you thinking of asking Caleb to come with us?"

He nods, though he can't muster up any concern at the idea of not going back to the barge.

"It's a thought." One that lets him avoid the anxiety that the empty can't seem to consume. "I don't know... don't know what his connections to people here are like, if he'd come or not, but. It's a thought."

That's a surprise.

"You think he's made a connection with someone here that would have him unwilling to come with you?"

Her tone asks if that's what part of the 'weirdness' might be: parts of his life that Henry doesn't know about now.

"I don't know." Which is indeed a strange and uncomfortable thought. "The way he said hello, I don't think so. But... I don't know."

His focus on that spot of nothing intensifies. "He's got it all still, all his, y'know. He's got all his emotions still, didn't go the same route I did."

And you hate that you don't know, I bet.

She can't fault him for that. She's doing her own work trying to find out things around here.

"Is that how he was, back when you were together in the compound? Or is seeing him like this new?"

David's smile is distant and distracted. "No, he was always the one who felt things. He was always the one with the most heart, in the whole squad probably."

"And how did you feel about that, then?"

She's watching him carefully. And wondering if Caleb had a different opinion on who had the biggest heart.

He looks over at her finally, bemused.

"How did I feel about it?" He loved Caleb. He loved everything about him, including his gentle fortitude.

That's a little too much to say aloud.

"I guess I just saw it as a part of who he was."

She tilts her head at him, curious.

"There's a reason you made the choices you did, flipped the 'switch' you have. The choice not to do that- did you ever worry about him?"

"Oh." He considers that. "I guess I did, yeah. Or... not so much worry about that, specifically, as worry in general about what it all did to him."

He frowns, struck by a sudden bit of memory. "No, I didn't want him to do it. I didn't want him to give it up. I worried that he would."

Edited 2024-10-15 05:07 (UTC)

"You worried that you'd give up who he was to flip that switch?"

She's not trying to lead him anywhere but she's not surprised it's heading there.

David shifts restlessly. He does not especially like where this is headed. He does not especially like the dominoes that have been tipped.

"I didn't want him to do it," he says again, and stops. Can't come to unpleasant conclusions if he deliberately avoids the logic of them!!!

She nods.

"And did he have any feelings about it when you did it? That you know of, obviously?"

She isn't pushing. Isn't even nudging. She's just asking questions.

"He didn't know. Doesn't know. I did it when he died."

Right before Caleb died, so he could stand the mercy kill he knew had to happen. Kills, plural, but it was the first one that he needed help through.

She doesn't nod this time. Instead, she looks for his eyes, looks to them, to see what's there.

"So you could die with him?"

The uncomfortable simmering in his chest makes him clear his throat. "Did the file not cover those specifics?"

"It covered events," she says clearly, "not your feelings. Not your intent. I didn't mean in the physical sense."

He doesn't know what it is about Saga's eyes that manages to be both comforting and unsettling at once. They're the kind of beautiful that comes from watching strafing fire on the horizon.

He studies his fingertips, mentally contrasting the feel of Caleb's hair with the pressure of his hands on Caleb's throat. "So I could kill him."

"And the reason you haven't turned it back on, since then?"

Quiet. Careful.

A long pause. "No reason to."

"And why do you think that?"

He folds his hands over each other, squeezes them briefly, goes back to small restless motion.

"No one around to know I'd ever been different."

"What about for you?" she says quietly, "what about for you... getting to feel it when Hanna does something nice for you? Or enjoy a meal down to your toes. Feel rested or exhausted. All those things that you look forward to o-or you dread or you get to enjoy. All those things. You deserve to feel things, Henry. For you."

He looks at her sidelong. His posture doesn't change, but there's something in his face that reads clear as day, no Seer Powers needed:

Do I?

No malice in the thought, no particular shame. A weighing of the facts. Consideration for the things he's done.

He shrugs a shoulder.

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viking_seer - 2025-01-02 07:26 (UTC) - Expand