ukan | IC CONTACT

B prowls back and offers Lark one of the spoons. They can both eat out of the same container. It'll be just like during the war when dishes were scarce. "Still out. Thank god he missed all that." He can just imagine what those fear spaces would do to Steve, and what Steve would have said or done if he'd seen the state they left B in. He's glad, for once, Steve is in a goddamn coma.

As he settles down next to Lark, he adds, "And I can try to keep an eye on Daniel and Elias, if you want. I've been teaching Daniel some self-defense. So he probably trusts me a little."

He nods; he trusts B to pick up on Elias in particular.

"Daniel tortured my inmate. It's why Trevor broke his nose. But since Daniel is human, that's as far as Trevor will go with it." Which is sort of bewildering to Lark, whose instinct is to take an arm when he's owed a hand.

"Lark. Being tortured under those fear things was not the fault of the person stuck running them," B says with a frown. "It was as much a hell for them as anyone who wandered in."

"Logically I know that. And you know that, and everyone else should know that. But you throw that much pain in, and logic fails."

B sighs and drags a hand down his face, then starts dipping into the soup. Food makes most things better. "Just making sure you're not applauding your inmate for punching him, is all."

Well, not applauding. "It's settled between them. It's a very wolf-like way of handling things, it's probably why I can't bring myself to be outraged. That or...all of this." Fuck, his head hurts. He enjoys the soup and it does help that much, at least. "I'm invested in Daniel continuing to be alive and whole. I just don't trust myself with him right now."

"Yeah, okay, that's fair." B can give him that. He hadn't wound up in Daniel's fear-space, himself, or he might feel differently himself. Maybe not about his guilt or need to be punished, but at least about wanting to be around him. "I'm probably lucky I don't have any idea who was behind the two worst ones I got stuck in."

"I go back and forth. Sometimes I want to know what they all were, who was where." He shakes his head, stirs the soup slowly. "Sometimes I hope I never figure it out. I have no idea how to help anyone else process this, I lucked out with an inmate who isn't traumatized."

"Did he just not wind up in any that affected him?" B asks, a little surprised. He guesses maybe Trevor isn't the type to be afraid of war or killing people or being used, he supposes. Still seems unfair that anybody escaped having anything affect them. "Or did he avoid going into any?"

He, on the other hand, definitely has a traumatized inmate. Temporary inmate, but still. And he's got a ton of shit of his own simmering in the background.

Maybe like Lark does.

"He was only in Daniel's, as far as I know." A disbelieving shake of his head. "He might just be in shock or denial. I'm going to keep an eye on him."

Soon. When he can figure out how to keep himself steady.

"How are you feeling, B? honestly."

"Like shit," B shrugs. "What did you expect? One of those things made me kill Steve six times. And Natasha twice. And Sam once. Another told me very clearly that I'm fooling myself if I think I can ever help anyone without hurting them, instead. I didn't manage to get a damn person out of their own private hells, despite ducking into eight of them." So he thinks that one with Sweeney was probably right.

He rests his chin on his hand, elbow on his knee, and gives Lark a sober look. "Your turn."

His expression falls. He's not angry; he can't even let himself feel hurt. Just guilt. An endless stretch of it, threatening to knock aside every careful plan he's made.

"I failed. And people were hurt because of it. You, Alec. Jon. I came here determined not to let anyone fall through the cracks, and I didn't even try with Elias." All right; there is some deep pain under the guilt. "I had to kill Jon to stop all of it."

Just like he'd killed Steve to stop the mutiny.

B's not mad at him for asking. Mostly he's trying to blow by it as quickly as possible, so Lark has the information but he doesn't have to fuckin' talk about it.

He winces at the last. "That had to suck. Did Jon...?" Was it willing, or a sneak attack, or did he have to fight the poor guy? B admittedly doesn't know Jon very well, but he has a hard time imagining Jon fighting Lark over stopping that kind of awfulness, especially after his message about it.

Lark tries to answer but only ends up shaking his head slightly. "He showed me how to do it. Weeks ago." Which says a lot.

"Jesus. That doesn't make it any easier, I bet." Well, maybe a little easier, but not much. At least in a real fight, you can say you really had to do it, but if someone's just baring their throat to you for you to kill them you know they aren't going to hold it against you later.

B scoots over an inch and loops his arm around Lark's shoulders, pulling him in for a hug. "I'm sorry, Lark."

Lark doesn't get hugged often. Most of his affection outside of Alec comes when he's a wolf.

But he needs this, more than he realized, because when B puts his arm around him he leans against him hard. "I can't regret doing it." And he doesn't. But he'll never be glad for it.

Clearly this is a situation B needs to rectify. Now that he's mostly over his problems with touch, he loves hugs. (This may or may not change post timeskip... we'll see.) "I know. I don't regret that you did it, either, god. But it was still hard." He rubs at Lark's shoulder warmly. "There anything I can do?"

Besides bringing soup and hugging him, that is. Because he's already doing that.

"Help me make sure it never happens again." It's the only thing that could make any of this better. If this is the last time he ever has to kill someone he loves, then he can live with it.

"However I can," B promises. If that means Lark calls him in to do the mercy killing, so be it. If it means keeping tabs on people, he's already said he can do that. "Just point me at whatever you need me to do to prevent shit like that."

"I'll keep you in the loop." He already does with most things, but it's an old, root deep habit to keep his plans to himself. Even Alec doesn't know all of them.

"If you keep me in the loop on everything, I'd probably get lost pretty quick," B says with a bit of a smile, only about half-serious. "I know your brain is a lot busier than mine."

He grins a bit; fair. "Seems to be getting me into trouble. ...Again."

"Yeah, I saw that." B gives him another squeeze, then a little push off him. "Eat your dinner. You'll think more clearly. And maybe I'll steal your communicator for a while so you can sleep without being stupid about it."

"Those are fighting words, B," he smirks, but he hesitates and then actually does hand his communicator over. "I'll come get this after I sleep."

B accepts it with a look somewhere between surprised and amused. "That was a lot easier than I expected," he admits, but he pockets the device inside his jacket. "I promise I won't play any pranks with it. Pretend I'm you or whatever."

He's joking, but it's still the truth, he's not going to or anything.

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