As it can be. [ Hopefully his head will just settle back to how it should feel, soon. Severus approaches and nudges slightly before sitting back on his bed, choosing to steal half of a blanket back instead of getting up to face reality. It occurs to him how very cramped these single bunks are, and has fleeting thoughts of extension charms to accommodate fixing issues like that. He'd have to really work on the spell, though. And on not sounding weird suggesting it. ]
[ For her part, Claire rolls over all the way and scoots herself back until she's practically flush with the wall. It feels cool through blanket and shirt but not unpleasantly so. While he situates, she rummages through the hills and valleys of the comforter for her communicator, leaving one eye screwed shut to check the time and determine that she is not going to pet owner hell just yet. She keeps her eye closed under the misguided assumption that leaving one closed will make getting back to sleep after closing the other that much easier. ]
Sleepy. Awake. For now. [ That other green eye opens, and his half of a blanket increases in size as she throws some more toward him. ] You aren't dreaming right now, are you?
I might like to be, [ he says, the blanket half over his head, ] because someone is forcing 'space Christmas' [ resentful airquotes audible ] into existence.
[ Severus can't complain about Lupin's incredibly irresponsible bullshit behavior without outing his condition, but there are enough other idiots to fill the void. He still sounds tired. ] I need to check on a few people, but I'm not awake enough to be of any use yet.
[ For about thirty seconds, Claire wonders if she's the one who is actually dreaming. ]
I saw, before - is now really the best time for that? [ That question is mostly hypothetical, though if she was still asleep before, it's taken a backseat to incredulity for the moment. As for the more legitimate and pressing of the two presented issues - ] I doubt any of the people you need to check on are awake enough to be of any use yet, too, in your defense. You could and should probably get away with a few more hours.
I have no bloody idea what's wrong with any of them. [ There's no real heat in his voice, just because he's tired. Severus lets his eyes fall closed, not really wanting to sleep again but still feeling like he's been hit by a truck. It's frustrating that what ends up stringing him out is the thing he puts the most effort in. ] The inability to carry on without being the center of attention, maybe.
[ Even if he wasn't predisposed to hate anything with the tag 'It's Sirius's fault', he still finds the whole affair to be in terrible taste. This coming from a former Death Eater should say something. ]
[ Claire opens her mouth to say something in return, decides that it's not worth the effort it would take to agree one way or the other, and just drags the top of the blanket over her head. The toes of her socks poke out from the other end. People were hurt. People did terrible things. You don't just get to string a bunch of lights together and make it all go away. ]
Maybe it's a coping mechanism.
[ From beneath the blanket, muffled. Her voice is flat. It's plain she's not buying that as an excuse to sweep everything under the rug in an effort not to deal with it. Although maybe there's some degree of hypocrisy in that. Maybe she'd like to stay under here forever. ]
Hm. [ What a terrible coping mechanism all of you get jobs you losers etc etc Severus is dick, news at 11. He's developed-- not really a grudge against Sally, but an awareness of her as someone completely disingenuous and selfish. He met her in the locker room months ago, his face bleeding, and she expressed all kinds of sentiments, and then went out and befriended the person who did it. So it's a little funny watching her butt heads with Edgeworth - two sides of a lying coin flipperhandsing at each other like shrew-voiced morons.
Anyway.
He wraps his arms around Claire and pulls her closer, the blanket blocking out what dim light exists in the small cabin. Screw consciousness. ]
I don't know what'll happen to William, [ he murmurs after a while. ] Heather was down there, too, looking for him. It tried to frighten us with what it perceived as nightmares, I think. The ship.
[ Her kneejerk reaction now is to fish her comm out from under the pillow where it has ended up and power up the network to distribute passive aggressive and bratty comments to anyone who thinks setting up a Christmas party in the wake of what has happened is a good idea, but it seems like more trouble than it's worth. In some ways, Claire feels like she's growing as a person, in that respect. In other ways, she feels like the rewards for being more detached regarding situations like that vastly outweigh the satisfaction derived from saying anything at all; namely, less time spent wallowing in frustration and more spent in a dark cocoon that smells vaguely like shampoo.
A little of the pale light from the room creeps in via the gap between blanket and pillow letting cool air in, and Claire uses that as a guide to trace her eye and then her thumb across the thin skin showing dark blood vessels underneath the red bloom of his sclera. At the mention of William and what follows, she pulls back a bit. ]
Probably stay in isolation for a while, just for starters. It wasn't anything he did on purpose, right? [ Her tone doesn't show any anger, maybe some tired resignation, but even if he didn't mean to hurt anyone, he did, in a sense. It's something that needs to be considered. ] What did you see down there?
Not on purpose, no. [ Severus is mostly angry that William handled it the way he did - running off and making it worse instead of immediately seeking help. It was a massive error in judgement and the severity of the consequences can't just be written off as accidental. ] Bits of things from home, some unpleasant landscapes that were familiar to Heather. No murals, minimal odd noises. It was most like the labyrinth of memory recreations after Shepard's last reconnaissance.
[ She shudders, primarily for effect, and pulls her hand back to join the other under the pillow. The atmosphere they had all been submerged in following that particular recon mission is something she's happier not reliving. ]
He shouldn't have run. [ Whether to avoid facing responsibility or any other thing he might have seen as a logical conclusion, if he was even in control of himself. Claire assumes yes, as that isn't what Severus had led with. ] Getting lured out there under any sort of pretense is bad news. You already looked pretty beat up before you went down there, when I saw you in medbay.
[ She can assume Rey without too much extrapolation. Anything else is a murky unknown. ]
Cosmetic. [ It's not a bluff - his injuries were superficial for the most part, adding up to be an annoyance but nothing traumatic. It's his head that's the real issue, but he's not going to talk about that just yet. Not only does he not want to worry her, he's not sure what he'd even say about it. There's no use stacking up 'I don't know's, especially now. ] I had a couple run-ins but most of the mess was dodging spell blowback. Very little actually hit me. And I didn't run into Black at all, so no one was taking any cheap shots.
[ Under the blankets is beginning to feel a little like an oven, so she tosses them back and props her head up on her hand, leaning on her elbow. At the mention of Sirius, her eyebrows jump. ]
Wow, stop the presses. [ She's only half-sarcastic, given the last time something insane happened. Claire scratches her forehead then digs thumb and middle finger into the hollows of her eyes, rubbing. ] It's a good thing you were able to find William before things went further than cosmetic. I don't know how much longer it could have continued like that, even with people figuring out how to shake people out of it.
I think it would have probably gotten all of us, eventually. Or William would have shot himself in the head.
[ Severus sounds more blank than he should relating that tidbit, but that's what William was contemplating when he contacted him and Heather. He's aware of how narrow of a miss it was. ]
It's done. I'm more interested in the changes in what went on in the hallways, to be honest.
[ Claire makes a noise of a agreement. Having been down there a small handful of times, she sort of feels like she has a personal investment even if she's aware that she's unlikely to ever understand it. ]
I feel like every time we go down there for one reason or another, something is different. [ Her top front teeth worry her bottom lip. Not being there has her at a disadvantage. ] Any theories?
[ He exhales, leaning halfway on his back. The whole thing was a nuisance, and not anything he wanted to experience again. ]
I don't know, but the network worked. William was able to contact us, and so I figured he wasn't that far in. But he was-- and when we were there, in the midst of these reconstructions, we could talk to each other.
[ She screws up her face a little, perplexed and kind of astonished, and adjusts herself so that she is up higher. After what always felt like weeks and weeks of no communication with anyone, learning that they had network access honestly does come as something of a shock. ]
That's weird. [ Not enough of a shock not to state the obvious, but still. ] Why would service suddenly be available down there? What, did Smiley build a cell tower while we were all trying to stop each other from murdering people? Maybe the ship wanted whatever William can do to be stopped, like it was getting in the way or something.
We're on a different network. [ He looks up at her, contemplative. The ship could well have wanted this handled, too; it's a theory worth adding to the list. ] The one we've been using was made up of spare parts and hijacking the existing one that no one could ever properly access. It was destroyed by a virus, and now we're using the network native to the ship.
[ Pause. ]
I think.
[ ... Computers?? If it sounds like he's just repeating Ryuuzaki, it's because he totally is. ]
[ Silence between two people, even contemplative, always seems like it stretches into infinity. When that silence is comprised of mutual perplexity, it seems even longer. Severus might possess more frustrations with technology than she ever will, having been born into it, but her experience and knowledge begins and ends with restarting the wireless router in the living room to make the wifi reboot itself. ]
I wonder if it would still work if we tried to go down there again, now that the old network got all infected with that virus and crashed. If it works, then we know it's not just some kind of defense mechanism trying to get William's... influence or whatever out of its way, if we can actually relay back between the halls and comms. [ She looks at the spot where the pillow separates from the mattress and arches an eyebrow. ] I wonder what else it's got on it.
It still cut out sometimes, but it worked more than we've ever experienced before. I don't know if it's the "subnetwork" [ ??? .... ?????? ] or something else. I imagine I should tell Ryuuzaki.
[ And Erik. If Erik is ever let out of that room again. ]
Working even a little bit is better than not working at all. [ Not that having network access and communication capabilities would in any way make a trip down into the corridors less risky. ] And he could definitely give you a better idea of what it means, yeah, or what to do with it. I personally just figured out how to change the password on my laptop back home.
[ And yes, probably Erik, although she has been actively not thinking about him as much as possible, which ultimately arrives her at his logical conclusion, given the nature of the recon missions and her last foray into the halls. She flops over onto her back. ]
I knew I should've taken computer science instead of intro to... whatever useless thing. English lit or something.
[ So you know. There's that. Severus doesn't even know how to properly frame his experiences with the tech side of things; maybe Osborn will be able to translate his questions. If Osborn is still alive. He hasn't checked in a while. Huh. ]
[ Maybe by like a lap, Claire thinks and turns her head to peer at him dubiously. It's shortlived, following his question, and Claire eventually turns her head to look at the ceiling, showing him her profile while studying the exact spot overhead paneling turns into wall. ]
I honestly don't really know how I feel. I feel weird saying I'm anything less than fine. [ Her response provokes a wince, and she inclines her head to indicate disagreement even with the words that are coming out of her own mouth. ] I should be fine. I am fine. I don't have an issue with what I can do, in theory. I mean, obviously I'm glad for it a lot of the time, but it's - it's been a really long time since I've felt that useful, like I could really do something here, to help people, and how messed up is it that I had to let two people kill me in order to do it and didn't even think twice about it? I practically raised my hand.
[ She laughs, a little, but there isn't really any amusement inherent in the sound. Everything after flows like water from a tap. ]
It was Erik and that woman Odessa that I ran into. Well, Odessa we ran into. Erik I volunteered to help with. And it was so just - I've been shot and blown up, electrocuted. All of it never really mattered. But a lot of this felt so distinctly personal, even if it wasn't directed at me specifically, and if it didn't feel like it was personal then it was just these hyper levels of... I don't know. Violence. I've never been pushed that hard. I was exhausted afterward. I wasn't afraid, but Erik literally ripped me apart. People aren't just supposed to walk away from that and be okay with it, but I did and I am, and it is what it is and that's all there ever is to it. I can't be pissed off at either of them for what happened. I'm just... I'm fine.
Severus listens in silence, letting her talk, taking in words and all the little clips of quiet between the letters. This is important, he understands. Claire saying anything at all and-- what she says, violence, how personal it felt, that's what he's asking about when he asks if she's okay. Severus knows the impact of death, has grown up with it and lived with it pressed to his skin. Even if she doesn't experience the end, she lives in a world of mortals, and it will mean something.
He feels stupid. For involving her with Erik. For believing Odessa. At the same time he understands what she says when she tells him that she felt useful. You have to do what you were born to.
After a time, Severus picks up one of her hands and splays her fingers, pressing his thumb into her palm, gentle. ]
What do you need me to be?
[ In reaction. As support. Should he be fine, should he be angry. He doesn't trust whatever kneejerk response he might have-- she may have no room left for anger, but his capacity for it is endless. But that might not help. He doesn't know. ]
[ She watches her fingers spread with a sort of detached interest, lost in lifts and flickering lights and the humidity of the gardens, everything green and bright. Both of them, in their own right, had been alarming, but she thinks that sometimes she's so beyond the point of fear that none of it can really ever touch her. She's not afraid to get pulled apart, she's not afraid to get gutted. More than anything she's afraid of what it's going to turn her into regardless of how grounded she tries to keep herself.
As for him, Claire doesn't need him to be anything. Experience would dictate that she rather him be nothing, feel nothing, do nothing, let her handle it on her own. Experience might also dictate that asking that is an impossibility. Her fingers flex, the tendons stretched across her palm, underneath his thumb, moving in tandem. ]
I don't know. I've never had anyone ask me what I needed them to be before. People always just were, whether I wanted them to be or not. More careful? [ She admits it carefully and turns her head to look at him, reaches across her shoulders to touch his temple with two fingers and cracks a smile before relaxing back. ] Not angry. On my behalf, at least. [ If Odessa lied then that's her prerogative. ] I'll be fine, and neither of them, none of them, had any idea or control over what they were doing.
[ It warms her in a weird way that he would ask at all. She's so used to her father just charging in, guns blazing, erasing minds and stacking bodies in an effort to be what he assumed she needed, whether it was mobilized armor or a knife from underneath a sleeve. Having the option is a nice change, gives her a little more room to feel more in control of what's happening, encourages her not to shut down entirely. She turns her hand over against his, spreading fingers wide and comparing the length and span between the two sets. ]
How do you stop yourself from becoming completely numb?
[ He looks over at her when she touches his face, calm. He is incredibly careful, actually. Severus is well aware he can't regenerate. Most everyone can't regenerate, and they live their lives accordingly; he understands her perception is skewed. Probably because of how uncareful she is. It's something he accepts. ]
People become jaded with time. Desensitized from overexposure. It's just how we are; we'd all go mad without the ability to adapt that way.
[ She would, too. Death over and over could easily drive her to insanity. Maybe there's something built-in keeping her from it. ]
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How're you?
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Sleepy. Awake. For now. [ That other green eye opens, and his half of a blanket increases in size as she throws some more toward him. ] You aren't dreaming right now, are you?
[ She's mostly not serious. ]
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[ Severus can't complain about Lupin's incredibly irresponsible bullshit behavior without outing his condition, but there are enough other idiots to fill the void. He still sounds tired. ] I need to check on a few people, but I'm not awake enough to be of any use yet.
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I saw, before - is now really the best time for that? [ That question is mostly hypothetical, though if she was still asleep before, it's taken a backseat to incredulity for the moment. As for the more legitimate and pressing of the two presented issues - ] I doubt any of the people you need to check on are awake enough to be of any use yet, too, in your defense. You could and should probably get away with a few more hours.
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[ Even if he wasn't predisposed to hate anything with the tag 'It's Sirius's fault', he still finds the whole affair to be in terrible taste. This coming from a former Death Eater should say something. ]
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Maybe it's a coping mechanism.
[ From beneath the blanket, muffled. Her voice is flat. It's plain she's not buying that as an excuse to sweep everything under the rug in an effort not to deal with it. Although maybe there's some degree of hypocrisy in that. Maybe she'd like to stay under here forever. ]
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Anyway.
He wraps his arms around Claire and pulls her closer, the blanket blocking out what dim light exists in the small cabin. Screw consciousness. ]
I don't know what'll happen to William, [ he murmurs after a while. ] Heather was down there, too, looking for him. It tried to frighten us with what it perceived as nightmares, I think. The ship.
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A little of the pale light from the room creeps in via the gap between blanket and pillow letting cool air in, and Claire uses that as a guide to trace her eye and then her thumb across the thin skin showing dark blood vessels underneath the red bloom of his sclera. At the mention of William and what follows, she pulls back a bit. ]
Probably stay in isolation for a while, just for starters. It wasn't anything he did on purpose, right? [ Her tone doesn't show any anger, maybe some tired resignation, but even if he didn't mean to hurt anyone, he did, in a sense. It's something that needs to be considered. ] What did you see down there?
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He shouldn't have run. [ Whether to avoid facing responsibility or any other thing he might have seen as a logical conclusion, if he was even in control of himself. Claire assumes yes, as that isn't what Severus had led with. ] Getting lured out there under any sort of pretense is bad news. You already looked pretty beat up before you went down there, when I saw you in medbay.
[ She can assume Rey without too much extrapolation. Anything else is a murky unknown. ]
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Wow, stop the presses. [ She's only half-sarcastic, given the last time something insane happened. Claire scratches her forehead then digs thumb and middle finger into the hollows of her eyes, rubbing. ] It's a good thing you were able to find William before things went further than cosmetic. I don't know how much longer it could have continued like that, even with people figuring out how to shake people out of it.
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[ Severus sounds more blank than he should relating that tidbit, but that's what William was contemplating when he contacted him and Heather. He's aware of how narrow of a miss it was. ]
It's done. I'm more interested in the changes in what went on in the hallways, to be honest.
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I feel like every time we go down there for one reason or another, something is different. [ Her top front teeth worry her bottom lip. Not being there has her at a disadvantage. ] Any theories?
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I don't know, but the network worked. William was able to contact us, and so I figured he wasn't that far in. But he was-- and when we were there, in the midst of these reconstructions, we could talk to each other.
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That's weird. [ Not enough of a shock not to state the obvious, but still. ] Why would service suddenly be available down there? What, did Smiley build a cell tower while we were all trying to stop each other from murdering people? Maybe the ship wanted whatever William can do to be stopped, like it was getting in the way or something.
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[ Pause. ]
I think.
[ ... Computers?? If it sounds like he's just repeating Ryuuzaki, it's because he totally is. ]
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I wonder if it would still work if we tried to go down there again, now that the old network got all infected with that virus and crashed. If it works, then we know it's not just some kind of defense mechanism trying to get William's... influence or whatever out of its way, if we can actually relay back between the halls and comms. [ She looks at the spot where the pillow separates from the mattress and arches an eyebrow. ] I wonder what else it's got on it.
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[ And Erik. If Erik is ever let out of that room again. ]
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[ And yes, probably Erik, although she has been actively not thinking about him as much as possible, which ultimately arrives her at his logical conclusion, given the nature of the recon missions and her last foray into the halls. She flops over onto her back. ]
I knew I should've taken computer science instead of intro to... whatever useless thing. English lit or something.
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[ So you know. There's that. Severus doesn't even know how to properly frame his experiences with the tech side of things; maybe Osborn will be able to translate his questions. If Osborn is still alive. He hasn't checked in a while. Huh. ]
You still all right?
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I honestly don't really know how I feel. I feel weird saying I'm anything less than fine. [ Her response provokes a wince, and she inclines her head to indicate disagreement even with the words that are coming out of her own mouth. ] I should be fine. I am fine. I don't have an issue with what I can do, in theory. I mean, obviously I'm glad for it a lot of the time, but it's - it's been a really long time since I've felt that useful, like I could really do something here, to help people, and how messed up is it that I had to let two people kill me in order to do it and didn't even think twice about it? I practically raised my hand.
[ She laughs, a little, but there isn't really any amusement inherent in the sound. Everything after flows like water from a tap. ]
It was Erik and that woman Odessa that I ran into. Well, Odessa we ran into. Erik I volunteered to help with. And it was so just - I've been shot and blown up, electrocuted. All of it never really mattered. But a lot of this felt so distinctly personal, even if it wasn't directed at me specifically, and if it didn't feel like it was personal then it was just these hyper levels of... I don't know. Violence. I've never been pushed that hard. I was exhausted afterward. I wasn't afraid, but Erik literally ripped me apart. People aren't just supposed to walk away from that and be okay with it, but I did and I am, and it is what it is and that's all there ever is to it. I can't be pissed off at either of them for what happened. I'm just... I'm fine.
[ There's no room left for anger anyway. ]
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Erik literally ripped me apart
Severus listens in silence, letting her talk, taking in words and all the little clips of quiet between the letters. This is important, he understands. Claire saying anything at all and-- what she says, violence, how personal it felt, that's what he's asking about when he asks if she's okay. Severus knows the impact of death, has grown up with it and lived with it pressed to his skin. Even if she doesn't experience the end, she lives in a world of mortals, and it will mean something.
He feels stupid. For involving her with Erik. For believing Odessa. At the same time he understands what she says when she tells him that she felt useful. You have to do what you were born to.
After a time, Severus picks up one of her hands and splays her fingers, pressing his thumb into her palm, gentle. ]
What do you need me to be?
[ In reaction. As support. Should he be fine, should he be angry. He doesn't trust whatever kneejerk response he might have-- she may have no room left for anger, but his capacity for it is endless. But that might not help. He doesn't know. ]
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As for him, Claire doesn't need him to be anything. Experience would dictate that she rather him be nothing, feel nothing, do nothing, let her handle it on her own. Experience might also dictate that asking that is an impossibility. Her fingers flex, the tendons stretched across her palm, underneath his thumb, moving in tandem. ]
I don't know. I've never had anyone ask me what I needed them to be before. People always just were, whether I wanted them to be or not. More careful? [ She admits it carefully and turns her head to look at him, reaches across her shoulders to touch his temple with two fingers and cracks a smile before relaxing back. ] Not angry. On my behalf, at least. [ If Odessa lied then that's her prerogative. ] I'll be fine, and neither of them, none of them, had any idea or control over what they were doing.
[ It warms her in a weird way that he would ask at all. She's so used to her father just charging in, guns blazing, erasing minds and stacking bodies in an effort to be what he assumed she needed, whether it was mobilized armor or a knife from underneath a sleeve. Having the option is a nice change, gives her a little more room to feel more in control of what's happening, encourages her not to shut down entirely. She turns her hand over against his, spreading fingers wide and comparing the length and span between the two sets. ]
How do you stop yourself from becoming completely numb?
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People become jaded with time. Desensitized from overexposure. It's just how we are; we'd all go mad without the ability to adapt that way.
[ She would, too. Death over and over could easily drive her to insanity. Maybe there's something built-in keeping her from it. ]
I don't know. Giving a damn, maybe.
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