"Yeah, but not long before here." He closes his eyes, finally feeling a touch of weary resignation. "I killed him, Warren. Jon. And I killed Steve Rogers. And it saved the ship twice."
Warren nods and he'll walk around to Lark. He won't touch him; he just hovers his hand near him, an offer, but one Lark has to accept as he starts talking.
"Two actions. Two results. But. I'm assuming. The results aren't the problem here.
"What about that. choosing to do that. is hurting you?" Is killing you inside.
There's so much tearing him apart right now. Some things he can't even look at yet but he feels them there, adding weight, crushing him.
"Do you know how many people have come around to make sure I'm eating, that I'm getting up out of bed, that I know they're there for whatever i need?" Lark shakes his head in quiet, awed gratitude.
"My life was easier before I let myself have people. I could make solid, quick decisions to get what I wanted, and I never had to regret it. But now that I have a choice, to distance myself or not, I'm choosing to keep them. I like having friends. I like having a pack I trust and love. I'm going to maintain all of these relationships the best I can." A flicker of something profoundly pained crosses his expression. "And if I have to kill them--to kill you--someday to save the fucking ship, I'll still do it. And I'll just have to live with tasting your blood in my mouth no matter how I scrub at my teeth later."
"There was a speech I used to give," he starts off as he nods along to Lark's words. "About whiskey. Maxwell, Jacobi- they heard it so many times? They could give it themselves."
There's a fond smile as he thinks of both of them, at the way they'd react when they felt it coming in their bones.
"I'd talk about... how much I liked my scotch. Which is a lot. I like the taste. I like the smell. I like the feel of it in my hand. How... it was nice, at the end of the day. Made my life better. Just... a great cap off? to a long day of work.
"But... if it started to get in the way of my work, I could get rid of it and things would be... well, they'd be more or less fine. I'd be sad, but life would go on."
He looks down at Lark.
"Most people... they were whiskey. Maxwell and Jacobi... they were the exceptions. It's why they? Could enjoy the speech. The people I got rid of before? Whiskey. The people you got rid of before? Whiskey.
"The people you have now? That I have now? Air. Or. Water, if you want to stick to beverages. And you're right that it used to be easier? But. Not 'easier' to get anywhere sustainable. Quicker... but not quicker to get anywhere worth going. Nowhere worth staying.
"You died. I died. We died. Because we didn't let ourselves have enough air. Or water. I'll pick one eventually. Which one do you like?" But he doesn't let Lark answer before he goes on. "Because without those things. Every. second. feels like you're just staving off death. And not living at all. No matter what you tell yourself."
He leans a little closer.
"You didn't save the 'ship'. The 'ship' was fine. I was around. I was watching. The ship. The physical space? Ship. shape, in fact. You... saved the air slash water. You. saved what's important. And you did it by sacrificing some of it. The air closest to you. Which is why. it feels like you can't breathe."
Beat.
"There, I picked one."
He clears his throat.
"...which is why you need to let the rest of the air in."
Lark listens, his gaze on his half-empty bowl. He doesn't add anything, doesn't interrupt, and when Warren finishes he simply leans against him, a distinctly canine sort of embrace. "Okay." This is him, listening and trying.
Warren relaxes a little as he does, and his hands will settle lightly on Lark's shoulders, not so much rubbing as... petting, honestly. It's comfort for him too.
"Tell me about Jon. Or tell me what happened with Alec. Or we both go furry and curl up together for that. However you need me to be with you. I'm here."
"Yeah, it's around that corner, under the stairs." Lark heads up those stairs to his bedroom so he can put his clothes away before he turns. The cabin has been deep cleaned by Alec twice now in the past forty-eight hours, he's not going to get in trouble for wrecking it.
Warren will nod, then go where he was directed. He takes off his clothes, neatly folds them, then puts them in a position he can grab with his mouth before changing… and slipping out to put the clothes up on the chair. Then he’s trotting to the couch.
Lark hops up and pulls a blanket down with his teeth, digs it around into a suitable nest, and curls up. The relief in just being a wolf, being his most lethal form and being safe enough to just curl up with his brother, is profound.
[It's the first time he's able to relax and it's not a lot. He twitches at sounds, even ones as mundane as the blip of one of the koi surfacing in the pond in the next room. He doesn't quite sleep but he does doze, curled up against Warren.]
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"Two actions. Two results. But. I'm assuming. The results aren't the problem here.
"What about that. choosing to do that. is hurting you?" Is killing you inside.
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"Do you know how many people have come around to make sure I'm eating, that I'm getting up out of bed, that I know they're there for whatever i need?" Lark shakes his head in quiet, awed gratitude.
"My life was easier before I let myself have people. I could make solid, quick decisions to get what I wanted, and I never had to regret it. But now that I have a choice, to distance myself or not, I'm choosing to keep them. I like having friends. I like having a pack I trust and love. I'm going to maintain all of these relationships the best I can." A flicker of something profoundly pained crosses his expression. "And if I have to kill them--to kill you--someday to save the fucking ship, I'll still do it. And I'll just have to live with tasting your blood in my mouth no matter how I scrub at my teeth later."
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There's a fond smile as he thinks of both of them, at the way they'd react when they felt it coming in their bones.
"I'd talk about... how much I liked my scotch. Which is a lot. I like the taste. I like the smell. I like the feel of it in my hand. How... it was nice, at the end of the day. Made my life better. Just... a great cap off? to a long day of work.
"But... if it started to get in the way of my work, I could get rid of it and things would be... well, they'd be more or less fine. I'd be sad, but life would go on."
He looks down at Lark.
"Most people... they were whiskey. Maxwell and Jacobi... they were the exceptions. It's why they? Could enjoy the speech. The people I got rid of before? Whiskey. The people you got rid of before? Whiskey.
"The people you have now? That I have now? Air. Or. Water, if you want to stick to beverages. And you're right that it used to be easier? But. Not 'easier' to get anywhere sustainable. Quicker... but not quicker to get anywhere worth going. Nowhere worth staying.
"You died. I died. We died. Because we didn't let ourselves have enough air. Or water. I'll pick one eventually. Which one do you like?" But he doesn't let Lark answer before he goes on. "Because without those things. Every. second. feels like you're just staving off death. And not living at all. No matter what you tell yourself."
He leans a little closer.
"You didn't save the 'ship'. The 'ship' was fine. I was around. I was watching. The ship. The physical space? Ship. shape, in fact. You... saved the air slash water. You. saved what's important. And you did it by sacrificing some of it. The air closest to you. Which is why. it feels like you can't breathe."
Beat.
"There, I picked one."
He clears his throat.
"...which is why you need to let the rest of the air in."
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"Tell me about Jon. Or tell me what happened with Alec. Or we both go furry and curl up together for that. However you need me to be with you. I'm here."
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"Let's go with option c. Both of us on that couch over there."
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He'll give his shoulders a faint squeeze.
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He thinks Lark needs that. And he's safe with his brother. ]