cactusy | IC contact for lastvoyages

... Sure.

[She's kind of curious, and Malcolm already psychoanalyzes her. Why not?]

[ Oh, good. He wasn't sure what he'd do if she had said no. ]

You lost someone close, recently. You're mourning, holding silent vigil.

[Whatever she'd been expecting, it sure as hell hadn't been that. She stares at him, naked surprise on her face, and it's a moment before she can make her mouth form words to respond.]

... What?

[That can't be right. She's not mourning. She should be mourning, but she can't, and that's the entire problem; she can't do sadness or upset or grief the way she's supposed to.

But then how does he know?]

[ His mouth twists into an apologetic smile before dropping again, as he tries to figure out how to continue. ]

It was someone you loved. You're frustrated, because you feel like you can't...honor them.

[Loved.

She blinks a few times, her gaze flicking up towards the ceiling.]

How--

[She clears her throat, then tries again.]

How do you know.

I told you earlier that you're quiet to me. That's true, but it's more than that. In all the ways that I see people, you are...muffled.

So when I'm with you, I see the things I'd see in other people, but indistinctly. It's like there's a barrier between it and me, but- if I let my imagination go, there's a heart under there, broken and bleeding.

[ He shakes his head, at a bit of a loss. ]

I'm not actually sure what it was that clued that part of my mind in. It's tougher to know when I'm dealing with people I interact with, and not a case file full of evidence.

I can't--

[She pauses, and shakes her head slightly. Her voice is a little ragged, and there's an unusual burning sensation behind her eyes, though they're completely dry.]

I can't feel anything. It doesn't feel like there's anything there. No breaks, just. Emptiness.

[ Winston readjusts to try and lay his head over one of her arms or hands, if possible. He curls up a little on her lap. Will takes a deep breath and decides to try and make his case. ]

I think...that might more an issue with communication, from one part of you to another. You're different than the sociopaths I'd sometimes encounter. There is something there in you, from everything I can tell. But it has a hard time finding its way out.

Just think she deserves better. That's all. When it was me who was gone--

[Another quick shake of her head. She settles her hand on Winston's back, fingers splayed, lightly stroking the fur.]

She deserves someone to cry for her, or. Something.

[ Will only has a sad smile in response to that, because he knows how it feels to be in that position. Abigail deserved so much better than him and Hannibal, but the two of them were what she got. And when she was gone, Will didn't even properly acknowledge her death for months.

But maybe there's something in being able to so viscerally understand the feeling. ]

Could you tell me about her?

[ That would be Something. ]

She was, uh--

[Instinct leads her to think of concrete facts first: she was thirty-seven, she was tall, she had long brown hair that she pretended she didn't spend time carefully styling even though she totally did. But she knows that's not the kind of thing he's asking about.]

She was really annoying.

[Great job, Shaw. Excellent first choice of things to say.]

She loved computers; she was great with them. She was one of the most brilliant people I've ever met. One of the most chaotic, too. She was fearless. When she set her mind on something, she wouldn't let anything stand in her way.

[ He would've taken concrete facts just fine, too. This is honestly more for Shaw than it is for him, although he is curious. The 'annoying' thing being called out first gets a small chuckle, and Will listens to the rest with a bit of a smile. ]

Did you dislike her at first? Or did you two match up on that whole 'fearless' thing right away?

Hated her.

[But she smiles a little, so. Clearly that opinion has not lasted.]

But she thought I was cool, so she wouldn't leave me alone.

Ah. Hence the 'not letting anything stand in the way'.

[ He looks fond and his eyes focus on something in the middle distance. ]

How did she win you over?

I don't know.

[Which isn't exactly true, but to be honest, she's never sat down and actually thought through how it happened. She didn't even fully realize it had happened until Decima took her prisoner.]

She... tried to understand me. She liked me for who I was; she never made me feel like I was broken.

[Even though, objectively, she figures she sort of is.]

She loved me a lot.

[And she still doesn't quite know what to do with that, beyond putting herself through hell to make sure that Root doesn't stay dead.]

She saw you, and valued what she saw.

[ He nods. He knows how important it is to be understood- even just to have someone who was willing to try. ]

And you valued her. Even if it's not in the accepted or normal way.

What was her name?

[Her eyes fall shut again, for just a second.]

Root.

Root.

[ He thinks of a tree, first, but immediately pushes that aside. His eyes slide to Shaw's arms and the tattoos around her wrist. ]

The computer term? Root...drive?

[Ah, he gets it. She lifts her wrist, giving him a better look at the slash marks.]

Pretty sure she picked it because of a computer's root user - the person who's got all the power and control and can run circles around everybody else on the system. This symbol's for the root directory, though. It's the highest-level directory that holds together everything under it, and keeps it organized and safe.

[Pause.]

It's how thinking about her makes me feel.

[ He smiles, faint but there, as he examines the slash marks. ]

Is she your Deal? Bringing her back?

Mmhm.

[She rubs a thumb over one of the marks - a new habit she's developed.]

Things kinda suck without her around.

Yeah.

[ He says it like he knows, letting out a small sigh. ]

That's a good Deal. I hope I can meet her someday.

Do you-- can you-- I mean, am I really--

[The words sputter out on their own before she even fully realizes what she's trying to say.

She wants to hear him tell her that she loves Root again.]

Really....?

[ He trails off. He knows what she wants, he's just trying to connect it to what she's saying. It's a habit he had to develop early, one of his misguided attempts to not creep people out.

He punctuates it with a smile. ]

You really love her. You are capable of that. And you really miss her.

Even without my condition, I know that you came here, doing work you yourself don't think you're suited for, under an unknown intelligence that you have every reason to mistrust, just to try and bring her back. You wouldn't go to such lengths, if there was nothing there.

[The weird burning in her eyes turns into a weird wetness, though it's not enough to actually well up and fall onto her face. She presses the pad of her thumb to her left eye anyway, feeling it.]

Okay.

[She murmurs, looking at Winston instead of at Will.]

Thanks.

IC contact for lastvoyages

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