[It's the uncharacteristic forfeit that reminds Alec that he was the one who drew that invisible line between them; on his end, he doesn't know what the point of all this is, he only knows that he's getting closer to Lark and closer to an edge he can't see the bottom of at equal, direct progress to one another. He doesn't think it's related, not really, or at least not at fault; but he does find himself wondering if he would be so desperate to be near Lark if everything else weren't happening as well. That, and he might have a cruel streak grooved down the center of his very soul, it might be one of the many, many scars he walked away from Manticore with that no one can actually see, but it doesn't mean he wants to force Lark to go through it... whatever this is brewing under his skin.
There's another long pause, while Alec in the darkened infirmary sets the communicator aside and stares at it on his desk, stares through it; he doesn't know if he's hoping it's a long enough delay that Lark will go back to whatever he was doing. Will fall asleep waiting, maybe, as unlikely as that is.]
[ He almost does, actually. The only reason he's still awake is that Lark is not sleeping well lately and so he fills his time with plans, projects, things he'll never really do but that keep his mind busy. ]
The harpy cuts aren't healing on other people.
[ And he's worried about Alec's. But it's too strange to say that, especially over text. ]
[Because Alec can't say for sure what all could happen, either, and because he's actually a lot more concerned about it than he's willing to admit to anyone at all, or overtly to even Lark:]
There's no sign of infection that I can recognize. I feel fine. They're more painful than a wound their size and depth should be for me, but they're not bleeding anymore and they're not getting worse.
I'm pretty sure they're going to scar, even when they do close.
[ And this time it's not a subconscious derailment, it's just that Lark has no way to make anything better for either of them. He asked and Alec told him, though, which is something and still feels new. ]
If I can help I want to help. You already know that y?
[Strangely, it helps. Opposition has always strengthened Alec, made him sharp and formidable where anything softer has just mired him down. He is at his best when he's proving something, even if it's as simple as his right - his ability - to have a pulse and an opinion.
It feels better knowing there's something to lose if he's not.]
[It's easy to say this; it's more honest than the earlier bantering had been. It's also making him very aware of how empty his own cabin is, which makes him count how many places he's going to have to move around between to keep people from asking why he never goes home.]
[He does not answer. He does not answer. He does. not. answer.
But he sits with it for a while convincing himself not to, and then convincing himself not to delete it, and in the end he has to turn the communicator completely off and shut it in a desk drawer, and remind himself that he's not helping anyone like this.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[ Private ]
There's another long pause, while Alec in the darkened infirmary sets the communicator aside and stares at it on his desk, stares through it; he doesn't know if he's hoping it's a long enough delay that Lark will go back to whatever he was doing. Will fall asleep waiting, maybe, as unlikely as that is.]
I just needed to know.
[ Private ]
The harpy cuts aren't healing on other people.
[ And he's worried about Alec's. But it's too strange to say that, especially over text. ]
[ Private ]
No, they're not. Mine either.
But they hurt less.
[ Private ]
Tell me if they get worse?
[ Private ]
[This isn't the separation, though; this is just Alec.
Alec, trying to be honest.]
[ Private ]
Okay. But if something serious happens and I find out secondhand I'll actually be angry.
[ Not frustrated angry, not worried angry, but wolf-instinct angry. ]
[ Private ]
[ Private ]
[ Maybe things like making it harder for the Admiral to resurrect them. ]
[ Private ]
There's no sign of infection that I can recognize. I feel fine. They're more painful than a wound their size and depth should be for me, but they're not bleeding anymore and they're not getting worse.
I'm pretty sure they're going to scar, even when they do close.
[ Private ]
[ And this time it's not a subconscious derailment, it's just that Lark has no way to make anything better for either of them. He asked and Alec told him, though, which is something and still feels new. ]
If I can help I want to help. You already know that y?
[ Private ]
I do, but there's nothing TO do. I can do a lot of things but I can't force my body to heal if it isn't.
I'm me. I'll be fine.
[ Private ]
So of course he says something vaguely threatening to get across what he really means.]
You'd better be.
[ Private ]
It feels better knowing there's something to lose if he's not.]
I'm always fine.
[ Private ]
[It's easy to say this; it's more honest than the earlier bantering had been. It's also making him very aware of how empty his own cabin is, which makes him count how many places he's going to have to move around between to keep people from asking why he never goes home.]
[ Private ]
[ Private ]
[ Private ]
Sighs.]
I'm going to stop replying. Thank you for answering me.
[ Private ]
[He believes Alec, which is subconsciously why he hadn't added until now:]
It's strange without you. I need space too. Doesn't mean I like it.
[ Private ]
But he sits with it for a while convincing himself not to, and then convincing himself not to delete it, and in the end he has to turn the communicator completely off and shut it in a desk drawer, and remind himself that he's not helping anyone like this.]