driftfleet | Mingle McMingleface

He glances out from over his book, and immediately his demeanor is one of uncertainty and grim — well, something. After all, she had seen some pretty screwed up stuff. He sits up and slides a bookmark into the novel. "Oh — hey. What're you doing here? Visiting someone?" Usually that's why people are wandering through a ship, anyway. That or curiosity. He hasn't intruded on all the ships yet, but boy, sometimes he gets the itch.

... How the hell is he gonna talk to her about all that?

Not talking about any of it seems like a fabulous choice, now that he's thinking about it.

She offers him the tea, tilting her head a little with a soft hey in response. The memories were as sharp as they had been and flicker though her mind as she watches him for a moment.

"At the moment, I'm visiting you," Merlan says, her tone gentle. "I'm also your new security officer." She pauses just for a moment to push a lock of hair behind her ear, the movement a little jerky, hesitant.

God, she felt incredibly awkward.

"Ah...mmn, you're doing alright, then?"

"Uh — Yeah, no, yeah, I'm... I'm doing good, actually. Welcome to the Bloodsport."

A pause, as he tries to figure out... how to address the situation at hand. Because he knows and she knows and they know just how fucked up that whole mess was. Aah. Alright. He carefully sets the book down (borrowed from Bucky, thanks Bucky) and looks up at her with some uncertainty.

"I've dealt with worse, so... I mean, I'm just sorry about — all of that."

He gets a slight smile at the welcome more of one at the fact that he's doing well. For her part, Merlan is accepting, the memories she'd been shown weren't going anywhere anytime soon but she half shakes her head. He's dealt with worse?

Good lord.

"Don't worry yourself over sorries," she says with a soft sigh, leaning her head back from where she'd been sitting. "You've had a far rougher time of it than I've had. I hid in courses of study, degrees, and threw myself into the fray only when Australia's balance seemed off for the most part. It's all screwed up. We both know that much."

He bites his lip, sitting uncertain as ever. Did she know who he was? Did she have a clue of the crap that went down, like Tracy did? He sure the hell hopes not, but he knows that's more a selfish thought than anything else. Just because he's starting to come to terms with what happened doesn't make it any easier a pill to hide under the cushions. Maybe she's just confused about this random freak with the awful memories.

"... Yeah. Screwed up's a way to put it."

He holds the tea carefully, not quite giving it any attention yet.

"It was still all — y'know. Not something I'd want people to see." His lips twitch, nearly a morbid smile, but he manages to keep it at bay. Besides, it'd just come out depressing anyway. Like a tacked on mouth. "It's like watching a trainwreck."

"I'd imagine not," Merlan says in a soft murmur. A train wreck. "For me," she says very quietly, "it was like watching someone you wanted desperately to help and being utterly unable to lift a finger."

Her eyes stung at the swell of helplessness that came rushing back and she shivered, pressing herself against the bench further to try and hide the response. It was all she had thought then and all that she thought now. But it was a memory and there was no assistance she could offer.

"I still wish I could help, however ridiculous that sounds."

He smiles, though it's terribly forced.

"It's okay. I mean, I'll be okay. Just got to kick it in the ass and keep moving, right?"

It's not remotely healthy, and a therapist would have a field day with his head, but.

He's... alive. He's learned to not be upset at that fact. Re-learned how to enjoy living, too, even if it took a lot of reflection and friendly help and looking in the mirror to remind himself he's not — he's not on the same level as the things that have used and abused his body.

He tries.

"It's good to just... try to put one foot in front of the other. If you have any questions, um. You saw some nasty stuff in there, so I would answer them as best I can, if you wanted. No guilt needed."

"Sam?" Merlan shifts so she can glance up at him.

"It's okay for it to not be okay. It doesn't ever have to be. Putting one foot in front of the other is a good thing but letting yourself rest and really deal with the traumas you've had to face is better." Her brow knits. "I guess the only question I have is if I can help you do that."

Edited 2017-08-12 04:47 (UTC)

Sam looks at her for a moment, smiling sheepishly.

"... I know. That is, I know in theory. In practice... it's a little harder."

He plucks at his bangs, thoughtful.

"... I'll try to be not okay, sometimes. For my sanity."

She can't help but echo when he smiles and lowers her gaze for a half second but meets his eyes once more when she finds her words.

"Sadly, it's always a little harder when it goes from abstract to action," Merlan says in a quiet voice that says she knows that very well. There's a long appraising look before she nods.

"When you're not okay, no matter the hour, I have a bottle of whisky with your name on it, Sam. It comes with a complimentary judgement free drinking partner. For your sanity."

She offers up a smile.

"I, ah, may not be clergy," Merlan says with a soft laugh, "but I'm here, you know?"

He laughs in return, just as soft. Perhaps not as genuine as a gut-laugh, but it's something.

"I got it. Free drinks. I think I can live with that."

A pause.

"Thanks."

There's a soft mm as she nods.

"You're welcome, Sam. I'll let you get back to your book. I suppose I ought to get back to memorising the ship's layout. Then some tea, probably."

She works her way standing, rolling the kinks from her shoulders and lifts a hand in farewell. Maybe it was a bit awkward but it was better than she'd thought it would go.

"See you around," she says with a slight wrinkle of her nose.

He gives a flash of a smile, nods, and waggles the book in his hand, the tea in the other.

"I'll see you around, Merlan."

Mingle McMingleface

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