driftfleet | may mingle (blameless!)

That poor exercise equipment. [he leans over to take it, then leans back out of the way] I wonder if they realize that only makes us more curious. Not that we can get back over there.

I doubt they care. They aren't the most hands-on captors. [Compared to their other hosts, who were involved in just about everything they did.]

No, they aren't. Though honestly, I think I prefer that for now. [at least until he's settled and fully discovered what he's limited in doing]

It's definitely less... taxing.

That's an understatement.

[On the other hand, he had a very clear idea of what the Echoes wanted from him. What they expected, what they delivered. Where he stood in the balance of power (which was far down the ladder). Here, he can't get a good sense of the Atroma, not from second-hand information and one frustrating audio message. His displeasure shows on his face, as he starts work unscrewing the second table leg.]

I'll have been here for three months, soon.

[it's still strange, to know Erik was here an entire month before he and Charles arrived, when he'd seen the man mere hours before. Like it had been any other day.

But here - a month has felt like a month. Not like Kyriakos, where time had moved in such a way that it felt as though he'd been there longer than just the couple of months he actually spent there. He can't help but think about that when Erik speaks up, and there's the faint sound of metal creaking as he closes his hand around the edge of the counter]

That's three months too long, I think.

I agree. [It frustrates him to be stuck out here in limbo, when they have things they need to do at home. Their world needs them. Their people. Maybe Erik hadn't yet decided what to do, himself, only knowing that he wasn't going to walk the exact same path he was on when he left Washington. Everything here is a diversion from that, a distraction. He's grateful for people he knows, for other mutants, to be here with him. Remind him of what's at stake.

But it's not enough. Raven arriving had hit him like a dash of cold water, reminding him of what he was meant to be doing.]

I'll even take leaving this moon as a positive, right now.

[he huffs a little] No kidding.

[and not the ways he's used to, hiding in a mansion or his dorm when things were quiet. He has a routine, here, albeit a shaky one - and sometimes it bothers him, because it doesn't feel right. And that isn't even taking into account his obligations back home.

But he looks down at Erik and . . . his tone is just a bit tentative, like he's skirting the bigger issue. It isn't hard to guess at what it is, but sometimes he isn't sure where he stands with Erik when it comes to these things. But - he can't help but put out the offer to talk, like he's done before]

I was wondering what was bothering you when I sent you those messages.

[Erik holds up the second table leg to Hank, casting him a look at the question. He didn't think this was a bridge Hank would want to cross, or even observe from a distance.]

Why do you think something was bothering me?

[He doesn't think anything in his text messages indicated that. They were short and to the point.]

[he leans forward again to take the leg, setting it on the counter beside him. And does his best not to shrink back from the look, either. Sure, he doesn't want to be anywhere near the bridge, but -

Erik was his friend, too]

They were very - short.

[a very long pause. He's going to say it]

And I'm not going to pretend that I didn't see what happened.

[okay, sort of say it]

You weren't asking questions that needed long answers. [Really, how is that hard to understand?

If Hank thought Erik was going to open up without a fight, he was dead wrong. If Erik doesn't want to say it himself, he's going to make the other man work for it.] See what, Hank.

True. Maybe I'm more used to people who - I don't know, like messaging like that.

[nngh. He shifts, nervous about bringing up the topic - bringing up her, when the last time they spoke about her, they'd gotten into an argument about it. And - he won't lie, the thought of attempting another discussion with that on his mind makes him want to forget trying all together. In a distant part of his mind, he can't help but be amazed that they're all connected so closely to a single person, all for different reasons]

You and Raven.

[there, he worked for it]

[There's a tense moment where he just holds Hank's gaze, eyes narrowing. So he has the nerve to bring it up. Bold, for Hank. And absolutely not his place. He hasn't even discussed it with Charles, not really. He'd said barely enough with his posture and attitude to get across that there was a problem, that he was having difficulty with it. Looking at it head on is enough to make his chest constrict with a million feelings.

So while he's distantly impressed that Hank even wants to try this, he's not willing to go there.]

It happened. That's all there is to it.

[it takes every ounce of willpower not to look away, not to abandon this conversation all together for something far safer. And he can't help but be thankful he's under the serum's effects - with it comes a strict need to keep himself in check, at least emotionally, which . . . hopefully, will help direct this terrible conversation away from any emotional outbursts. From either of them.

But he does huff at the answer and lean back after a moment, bracing his hands on the counter behind him]

So I saw. [until he couldn't watch the feed anymore.

. . . this was more difficult than he thought. He blows out a sigh and finally looks away]

I don't know why I'm bringing this up. I'm worried, okay? —about you, before you - assume things.

[He has to remind himself that it's not worry about what he's going to do. They're past that.]

There isn't anything I want to say, Hank.

Then don't. I'm not going to make you. [as if he could make Erik talk in the first place] Just - listen to what I have to say instead.

What's happened between the two of you is none of my business, and I'm not - trying to make it otherwise. [he wants to make that clear, that he won't step in where he doesn't belong] And you - know how I feel about her, and that I'm not - all that great at being . . . unbiased.

But if you - eventually want to talk it out - then the offer's there. If you want to dance around it and just blow of steam? That's fine, too. [a pause, and he makes a noise] Hell, if you want to blow of steam and take it out another way, I know a blue guy who can take a couple of punches.

[he runs a hand through his hair and glances down at Erik] What I'm trying to say is - don't stubborn your way through - whatever you want to call this alone. I know I'm your very last choice when it comes to this - especially this, but - you're still my friend. And I'm still going to offer that, regardless.

[He settles back on his heels and gives Hank his full attention, instead of working on the screws. What they are... Hank and himself, it's always been a tough one to categorise. They had hardly been friends before Kyriakos, even before Cuba. Afterwards, definitely not. Things changed, when they were in that other place. Once someone has dragged your corpse out of a room voluntarily, you have to admit a certain affection for them.

Erik remains silent and still, giving little indication of what he thinks of this speech. Other than that he's listening intently to every word of it. No, this isn't something he wants to talk about with Hank. As much as they can both claim it's none of his business, there's a bit of a lie in that. The four of them are all each others' business. It's been that way for a long time. Eventually, he just sighs, some tension dropping from his shoulders.]

You're wrong. [A beat.] You're not my last choice.

[he's half-expecting Erik to tell him off, to mind his own business, any number of things that aren't what he actually says. He can't help but expect the worst, given the subject at hand and how complicated it is - for all of them.

So it takes him a moment to actually - process what Erik says. And Hank being Hank, blurts out the first thing that comes to mind]

I'm not?

No. [His choices in these matters are limited. Erik has friends, friendly acquaintances... he has Charles. Very few are ones he would talk to about anything deeper than the surface. And maybe he's just realising this for the first time, but Hank is one of those few. Out of circumstance, definitely. Hank has seen him at his worst, more than once. They argue and they fight and as people, they don't exactly gel.

Somehow, though, they have tried to make it work. It took a while to notice, longer to admit. And despite his other faults, Erik has been trying with people. It's not an easy thing for him.

Looking back to the screwdriver in his hands, he continues, giving Hank a reprieve.]

There aren't that many people I count as friends, Hank. You are, though. This still isn't something I can talk about with you.

[later on, he's going to reflect back on this conversation and be amazed that they aren't screaming at each other. That they discussed this calmly, without anyone's temper getting the better of them - and that Erik actually acknowledged something they've never spoken about until now.

But - he said what he wanted to. He put the offer out there, and Erik listened. It doesn't matter whether he takes it or not, and - he feels like that got across]

That's fair. [he takes off his glasses to clean them, needing to fiddle with something] And - like I said, talking's optional.

[a pause, and he pretends like his glasses are suddenly the most interesting thing in the room] I'm glad you count me as - that.

I try not to spar on the ships. It's a bit hazardous for me. [Or rather, for him to do it. Especially now, when he's highly strung. He turns back to the table, beginning work on the third leg.]

[he makes a considering noise, putting his glasses back on] Mm, they're a bit too small for it. [mildly, and with the hopes that Erik picks up on the joking tone] And I'd hate to throw you and break something important.

Yes, that would be unfortunate. [He gets it... this time.]

[there is a god]

Maybe on the next stop, then.

may mingle (blameless!)

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