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[ukan]

This is Lark Tennant, leave a message.

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[epistemological]

That has him sitting up a little, and Sasha, sensing the seriousness, decides to retreat to her spot in the bedroom. Jon, however, is focused on Lark, enough that Lark might feel the extra eyes a little more than usual.

"If there's a question you want me to ask you, Lark, I- that's very much within the bounds of things I'm comfortable with."

[ukan]

There is guess usual, constant wariness about giving away any information about himself. It's present even with Alec.

But there is also a small hope of relief.

"Walk me through how this works."

[epistemological]

Jon nods, and looks Lark up and down.

"It's relatively simple: in this case, you tell me what question you want me to ask. I ask it... without holding back on my abilities. You'll feel it, the difference, when I do that. And you'll feel compelled to answer, perhaps even in ways you didn't realize you knew."

He turns a hand.

"You can't give me answers you don't have. But if it's in there, I can pull it out. It just might not be... pleasant. Especially if something in you fights me. But if it works... it works."

[ukan]

"Unpleasant usually comes before growth," Lark notes, searching his own mind to be sure this is what he wants to do.

The risks are worth it, it doesn't take him long to decide.

"Ask me about the mutiny."

[epistemological]

He breathes in deep, breathes out slow. Then he looks at Lark with an unnerving amount of focus, with more eyes than just the two on his face, and the air will wobble with the force of it.

He's so much stronger than he was before. Even this has a potency to it he never intends.

"Tell me about the mutiny."

[ukan]

Even the man who knows Lark best knows so little about Lark's life before the moment they met. Even when Lark wants to talk about himself, it fails in the face of letting people talk to him instead. He doesn't mind; he has ugly swaths of history in him that are easy to judge, and he'd rather learn about someone else than rehash his own life.

But Jon. Jon says that and the ancient, iron grip he's always had on his introspection eases. It isn't terrifying like he'd thought it would be. If Jon had simply dropped this on him without Lark's permission he would be panicking, but he wants this. It is simply a relief, a touch of cool water on skin that has been too long in the sun.

"Steve saved my life. The first moment I met him it was like with you; an instant connection I'd never had before. Someone whose opinions were so unlike mine and so honest that I could trust them. He was the first warden I ever believed in.

"And I repaid him by manipulating his view of the Admiral. He denies it to this day, but I spent a year pushing a view on him to make him hate this place as much as I did."

He wants to say more. The words want to tumble out but he pauses, watching Jon.

[epistemological]

Jon’s always very careful with what he Asks, which is why he’s glad he Knows there’s more.

”What aren’t you saying?”

He’ll pull a little more, less like yanking a chain and more like tugging at a rotted tooth.

[ukan]

This hurts, like he knew it would. Like he wanted it to, because if it didn't it would mean he no longer felt guilt over it.

"There were only two people I would have compromised for. And I threw them both aside to go at the Admiral. Not to get out of the Barge anymore, like I keep telling people it was." A sharp breath through his teeth like there's a knife in his side. "Because I was curious. That's all. I shattered the two most important relationships I've ever had because I wanted to see what was behind a curtain."

[epistemological]

Shit.

There’s been so many moments where the two of them have just… understood one another and this is the most painful, and fitting, of them all. He knows and he Knows and Christ, his heart bleeds with how much he understands that. He’s here, now, with a bite mark on his leg, barely human anymore and starving to hear people’s traumatic experiences fresh from their mouths because He Had To Know.

Hearing Lark admit to that same hunger is heartbreaking. And it’s why he asks just one more question.

Quietly.

Gently.

”Why did you need to know?”

[ukan]

He closes his eyes. This is such a complicated answer with such a simple core to it. It's the reason Lark is alive at all.

"Because I needed to know how the Admiral does it. What he is. What the power really is. What he gets from us."

But that's just the surface, specific to this situation. The why applies to everything Lark has ever done.

"If I can't know something a part of me stays behind with it, always.. I am always gnawing on it no matter what else I do. Breaking my teeth on it if I have to, until I figure it out."

[epistemological]

Jon has an itch, but he doesn't know if it's his itch... or something else. He can't trust himself, not with this, which is why he reins in his power before he asks another question.

"...do you want me to tug here, Lark? We can. But only if you want to."

[ukan]

He doesn't know what he needs to say, only that there is still a sense that his feet haven't found solid ground. As much as he wants to push away from this, to go back to trying to ignore it the way one might ignore a broken toe, he can't.

"Yes."

[epistemological]

"All right."

Which is when he breathes out and that feeling, those eyes on him, are almost overwhelming. The feeling of the air is charged, electric, like sparks could fly off of nothing any minute.

"Why do you need to figure it out, Lark? Tell me."

[ukan]

"Because." This does hurt. This hurts in such a physical way it reminds him of when his sternum cracks to rearrange itself to become a wolf's, and it has nothing to do with Jon pulling it out of him.

"Because no matter what I do I can never set it right. If I can't control whatever it is in me that puts curiosity ahead of everything, I will lose everything. And even if I control it I can't help them, I can't repair it."

[epistemological]

"Do you know what that thing is?"

No power behind it. There's something to be said for letting people come to their own conclusions. And maybe, hopefully, Lark's heard a few things that might help him.

[ukan]

"No." A slow, shaky breath. "So I blame it on instinct. Everything I don't understand and can't control about myself, I blame on instinct, because I know how to combat that. Except it doesn't work against this...whatever it is."

[epistemological]

"...do you want to know if that's what it is?" And he's watching Lark, trying to get a gauge of how he's doing, whether he's doing any real damage. This is a little more in depth than he'd thought at first, but he won't give up now. Lark had helped him, had helped him so many times. He could hardly fail him.

[ukan]

He wouldn't have guessed that he would hesitate if given the chance to know something about himself that has been hidden. But he does, because Jon hadn't been exaggerating when he said this was hard. Painful.

He nods anyway. "I need to know." A need, like he'd told Jon. An inescapable need to know whatever secrets are in his reach.

[epistemological]

"All right."

So very gentle.

He breathes in deep and slow and breathe out and he's going to pull in earnest now, knows how deep this is and knows just as well that Lark needs it. Like his own teeth in soft muscle, he tears.

"What is it that makes you need to know, Lark?"

[ukan]

"Because it's the only thing that makes life." Not life worth living; that's too subjective. "I refuse to be stagnant. I refuse to stop. Knowledge makes change and change makes life evolve and I refuse to stand aside and not be part of it."

[epistemological]

And Jon lets go of it, lets his head drop back as his eyes close, all of them.

"...well," he says after a minute or two, sounding a little mindblown, "there you- there you go."

[ukan]

What Lark feels is a flood of relief, as sudden and all-cleansing as the sort of flash floods that roar through the canyons in the desert.

"Shit," he says, marveling.

[epistemological]

"...I feel it would be a bit tasteless to ask for a cigarette, but the thought crossed my mind."

But he can't help that he's... well, he's smiling a little. He can see that Lark is better for this, for knowing this, that he helped. Those moments feel so few and far between.

[ukan]

Lark laughs. "Then I won't ask if it was good for you, too." He glances Jon over. "And it seems superfluous to ask if you're okay but I will anyway."

[epistemological]

"It didn't- I didn't get anything from that in the- in that way," he admits with a softer sort of smile. "It doesn't really like being helpful. But... I was able to help someone I- someone I care about. A great deal."

He will wave off anything more exact than that.

"There's something to be said for the more, uh, holistic benefits, I guess."