[ Severus doesn't sit down. He doesn't get a chair. He stays where he is, hands on the edge of the counter. He listens. His expression is unreadable.
(At some point he becomes peripherally aware of how hard he's gripping pressed steel, of how his knuckles are whiter than they should be, but he doesn't move.)
He lets her talk and doesn't interrupt, taking in what she's saying. The more dominant analytical part of him commits it to memory and takes highlighted notes about what to fit in where, what may need further elaboration, what should be investigated and pressed at. It helps him keep his shit together listening.
That's all it helps with. ]
Look at you. [ Quietly. His voice is rougher than he thought it'd be. ] Dealing with all that, remembering and believing and not breaking down. Look how bloody good you are at this and not terrible at all.
[ Oh god, don't look at her. She's aware of the two high points of blotchy red smearing across her cheeks like streaked paint, trailing all the way back over the shells of her ears and down the tendons of her neck. At least, that's where the heat is concentrated, flaring to life on a pulse point and then eventually subsiding. Claire is pretty sure her eyes are red, but not as badly as they've been in the past.
Emotional outbursts at sixteen were probably healthier than bottling at nineteen, though. Or however old she is now. After being lost in the dark and surfacing this disorienting amount of time later, Claire can't actually say with certainty where on the time line she is.
Like it matters anyway.]
I'm not. [ Her voice is a little more bitter than she would like or intend and still thick with the frustrated threat of a dam falling down somewhere, but she at least sounds a little less resigned. ] I mean, yeah. If you need someone to keep it together after being harassed by a psycho killer, I'm your girl. [ Thumbs to chest, then she folds her arms again. ] It's all second verse, same as the first. The only reason I'm not - I'm used to this. This is my life, but now in space. That doesn't mean I know how to do anything any better than anyone else just based on experience, or that I'm actually good at it. I think Darcy is handling whatever she saw down there better. [ Not to discredit Darcy as a strong girl, but Claire tends to think of herself as the unbreakable one and everyone else as fragile teacups that need to be handled delicately. ] Not dealing with it, pushing people away, keeping my distance. I can come up with whatever reason sounds good or makes sense, but I told you like months ago that you didn't get to do that, and now I'm doing it and I know I'm doing it. But I'm not trying to do anything differently, and it shouldn't be like that.
You're doing what you feel like you have to do. [ Defense mechanisms. Severus understands that. He's-- surprised, though, that she relates her current behavior to what he's pulled on her before. Maybe it is a little bit similar, but he thinks he was worse about it. By far. ] Even though you told me that, did you hate me forever for fucking up with it when I did?
[ No, obviously. And Claire hasn't even fucked anything up. She's just gone a little quiet, and... she's allowed. ]
I looked for you. [ In a more subdued tone. ] I'm not angry. I wasn't.
No. [ Her answer is almost immediate, but her tone and the arrangement of her face makes it clear there's more coming. She unwinds her arms from where they've been pressed up against her chest, fingers white-knuckle curled into the crooks of her elbows. ] But I was pretty pissed at you for a while.
[ Claire hops up on the counter, curling her fingers to the underside of the counter, letting her heels scrape against metallic paneling and watching them while hunching in on herself a little. When neither of them are saying anything, she's struck by how quiet it is on this floor. Distinctly, she doesn't feel any oppressive hatred creeping around like someone left the gas on, which makes it easier for her to look at him squarely. ]
Okay. [ On some level, she'd already known that he wasn't angry, but there's a difference in suspecting it and actually hearing it. No take backs. ] I don't want things to be weird and awkward between us anymore, but. What do you want?
[ This is probably very similar to a conversation that she should have had with Gretchen and never had the care or consideration to do. ]
He wasn't pissed at her. He's still not. It doesn't mean she's more harsh, it's just-- he knows he's worse, he understands that behavior response for what it is. If she gets mad at him for doing it, well, she's closer to a normal person than he is. Her reactions are probably more appropriate. His are always going to be skewed, whether that means getting disproportionately angry or disproportionately not angry.
She hops up on the counter and he pushes away so that he can face her, stretching out his hands only briefly.
What the hell does he want?
Severus slides his scarf off of where it's perched on his shoulder and reaches out to loop it around Claire's. Not close or touchy just-- there. ]
I'm terrible at wanting anything, [ he says quietly. She knows what. ] I want to not be an arsehole about everything. I want you to tell me if you need me around or if I should fuck off.
[ The fabric is scratchy, a little itchy, where it rubs up against the side of her neck while she straightens up and then folds back in on herself, pinching her fingers down the length of the scarf as it hangs down over her shoulders and then curling her hands over the edge of the counter, holding on. Her heel makes a little thumping sound every time she lets it swing back too far, which seems overly loud in the silence that passes for several seconds following his voice filling the kitchen.
Eventually the flesh of her cheek finds its way between her teeth again, not so hard this time, and Claire nods. ]
You haven't been an asshole about this. [ Being terrible at wanting anything doesn't make him any less deserving of it, regardless of how bad or good he is at it in its entirety or what it is that he wants. She decides to be upfront anyway. ] I don't need you around. That doesn't mean I want you to fuck off. I do want you around. I always want you around, even when it's awkward.
[ The distinction between want and need is met with a blank look, because Severus isn't developed enough in Relations With Other Humans to really get why that would be a hair she needs split.
(At least that means there's no ego to be bruised, or anything weird like that.) ]
[ This accompanied by a nod that starts at her head and works its way down through her neck and into her shoulders, almost a shrug. Her hands drop from the scarf to slip underneath her thighs, pressed flat between her jeans and the counter. ]
Your feet will probably suffer a lot less abuse, at least.
[ Claire gestures toward the one she had trod on in the hallway just a little while ago with the pointed tip of her own toe. ]
[ Yes, she responds, automatically, in her head, followed closely by Gotta be and Always am. But those feel like dodges, regardless of how true they might actually be. Yes, she's going to be alright, and yes, she and everyone else has to be. Claire wants to offer him a little more honesty than that. ]
I think so. [ Is the most genuine reply she can offer him. Because she does think so, and she always is, in the end, regardless of how long it takes her to get there. For as much as she's complained about her life and what's happened in it, the unfairness of it all, Claire is proud of what it's made her. Resilient. Strong. A fighter. She's thankful for that much. ] It would be helpful if we weren't voting on how to deal with another threat on top of all of this. And if I could walk into a room by myself without feeling like the room actually hates me.
[ The honest answer is what he's hoping for, anyway, of course. He's not sure he'd believe her if she said any of those other options, and the fact that she manages I think so makes him feel more confident that she actually will be okay. ]
The voting is interesting, isn't it. [ Mild. Severus thinks it's progress, but doesn't have much faith in it. ] What do you mean, the room actually hates you?
I think regardless of what we do, we're going to end up in trouble. We don't know enough about what they're capable of or what they've got in their arsenal to be the aggressors. We can't just sit back and do nothing. Rock and a hard place.
[ Claire shrugs one shoulder and flattens her mouth out into a thin line. Her voice is about as mild as his, her faith lacking as well. After a while on this ship, expecting the worst to happen is just second nature. ]
The room stuff, it's not - you know when you walk into a room full of people and you can just tell by the way the air is that they were just talking trash about you? When I'm alone, it's like I just walked into that room. Only no one is in the room and it's not so much like people were talking about me behind my back as much as it is they're really, really pissed at me. I don't know if it's like that for everyone else.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
q_q
(At some point he becomes peripherally aware of how hard he's gripping pressed steel, of how his knuckles are whiter than they should be, but he doesn't move.)
He lets her talk and doesn't interrupt, taking in what she's saying. The more dominant analytical part of him commits it to memory and takes highlighted notes about what to fit in where, what may need further elaboration, what should be investigated and pressed at. It helps him keep his shit together listening.
That's all it helps with. ]
Look at you. [ Quietly. His voice is rougher than he thought it'd be. ] Dealing with all that, remembering and believing and not breaking down. Look how bloody good you are at this and not terrible at all.
mO.Om
Emotional outbursts at sixteen were probably healthier than bottling at nineteen, though. Or however old she is now. After being lost in the dark and surfacing this disorienting amount of time later, Claire can't actually say with certainty where on the time line she is.
Like it matters anyway.]
I'm not. [ Her voice is a little more bitter than she would like or intend and still thick with the frustrated threat of a dam falling down somewhere, but she at least sounds a little less resigned. ] I mean, yeah. If you need someone to keep it together after being harassed by a psycho killer, I'm your girl. [ Thumbs to chest, then she folds her arms again. ] It's all second verse, same as the first. The only reason I'm not - I'm used to this. This is my life, but now in space. That doesn't mean I know how to do anything any better than anyone else just based on experience, or that I'm actually good at it. I think Darcy is handling whatever she saw down there better. [ Not to discredit Darcy as a strong girl, but Claire tends to think of herself as the unbreakable one and everyone else as fragile teacups that need to be handled delicately. ] Not dealing with it, pushing people away, keeping my distance. I can come up with whatever reason sounds good or makes sense, but I told you like months ago that you didn't get to do that, and now I'm doing it and I know I'm doing it. But I'm not trying to do anything differently, and it shouldn't be like that.
no subject
[ No, obviously. And Claire hasn't even fucked anything up. She's just gone a little quiet, and... she's allowed. ]
I looked for you. [ In a more subdued tone. ] I'm not angry. I wasn't.
no subject
[ Claire hops up on the counter, curling her fingers to the underside of the counter, letting her heels scrape against metallic paneling and watching them while hunching in on herself a little. When neither of them are saying anything, she's struck by how quiet it is on this floor. Distinctly, she doesn't feel any oppressive hatred creeping around like someone left the gas on, which makes it easier for her to look at him squarely. ]
Okay. [ On some level, she'd already known that he wasn't angry, but there's a difference in suspecting it and actually hearing it. No take backs. ] I don't want things to be weird and awkward between us anymore, but. What do you want?
[ This is probably very similar to a conversation that she should have had with Gretchen and never had the care or consideration to do. ]
no subject
He wasn't pissed at her. He's still not. It doesn't mean she's more harsh, it's just-- he knows he's worse, he understands that behavior response for what it is. If she gets mad at him for doing it, well, she's closer to a normal person than he is. Her reactions are probably more appropriate. His are always going to be skewed, whether that means getting disproportionately angry or disproportionately not angry.
She hops up on the counter and he pushes away so that he can face her, stretching out his hands only briefly.
What the hell does he want?
Severus slides his scarf off of where it's perched on his shoulder and reaches out to loop it around Claire's. Not close or touchy just-- there. ]
I'm terrible at wanting anything, [ he says quietly. She knows what. ] I want to not be an arsehole about everything. I want you to tell me if you need me around or if I should fuck off.
no subject
Eventually the flesh of her cheek finds its way between her teeth again, not so hard this time, and Claire nods. ]
You haven't been an asshole about this. [ Being terrible at wanting anything doesn't make him any less deserving of it, regardless of how bad or good he is at it in its entirety or what it is that he wants. She decides to be upfront anyway. ] I don't need you around. That doesn't mean I want you to fuck off. I do want you around. I always want you around, even when it's awkward.
no subject
(At least that means there's no ego to be bruised, or anything weird like that.) ]
Then.. we're on the same page.
[ Maybe? Apparently? ]
no subject
[ This accompanied by a nod that starts at her head and works its way down through her neck and into her shoulders, almost a shrug. Her hands drop from the scarf to slip underneath her thighs, pressed flat between her jeans and the counter. ]
Your feet will probably suffer a lot less abuse, at least.
[ Claire gestures toward the one she had trod on in the hallway just a little while ago with the pointed tip of her own toe. ]
no subject
[ So, you know. It's fine even if she keeps trodding on him, probably. ]
.. Are you going to be all right?
[ Slowly approached, but blunt. She knows he's not good at gentle emotional diplomacy. Might as well get it out point-blank. ]
no subject
I think so. [ Is the most genuine reply she can offer him. Because she does think so, and she always is, in the end, regardless of how long it takes her to get there. For as much as she's complained about her life and what's happened in it, the unfairness of it all, Claire is proud of what it's made her. Resilient. Strong. A fighter. She's thankful for that much. ] It would be helpful if we weren't voting on how to deal with another threat on top of all of this. And if I could walk into a room by myself without feeling like the room actually hates me.
no subject
The voting is interesting, isn't it. [ Mild. Severus thinks it's progress, but doesn't have much faith in it. ] What do you mean, the room actually hates you?
no subject
[ Claire shrugs one shoulder and flattens her mouth out into a thin line. Her voice is about as mild as his, her faith lacking as well. After a while on this ship, expecting the worst to happen is just second nature. ]
The room stuff, it's not - you know when you walk into a room full of people and you can just tell by the way the air is that they were just talking trash about you? When I'm alone, it's like I just walked into that room. Only no one is in the room and it's not so much like people were talking about me behind my back as much as it is they're really, really pissed at me. I don't know if it's like that for everyone else.