He relaxes, slightly, as they resume their meal. Every time the door opens,
every sound a little over the average bustle of the room - he pauses. But
he tries not to tense up.
By the time he's cleared his plate, he's very close to thinking that he's
succeeded, that this is somehow under control - and then someone drops a
plate, and when it shatters he's on his feet so fast it almost flips the
table.
His face blanches, and then the shame washes in, making his cheeks hot.
Rhys wants - desperately - to tell Elijah that he told him so.
But that would be tacky.
Instead he goes to take the other man's hand in his own, metal fingers seeking out flesh.
"It's okay. You're okay."
He doesn't suggest leaving, although he'll be quick to follow if the other man makes for the door. Obviously he's not the adjudicator of how Elijah deals with this.
"I know I'm okay, you don't need to patronize me," he says, too sharply,
snatching his hand back. "I'm also well aware that this proves your point."
But he relaxes, and sinks back into his seat, slowly. His stomach churns,
but he's confident enough that he'll keep everything down that he doesn't
move to leave.
"It's fine." Rhys's tone is still a little flat, but it softens up a little, "It's hard, right? You're pushing yourself, and trying to just... to feel better. It's gotta be frustrating."
Rhys confesses, gaze dropping to the table in front of him,
"It was different, I think. Anyone showing weakness at Hyperion would have been asking for a knife in the back, and on Pandora-- nowhere was ever safe, and we never stopped moving. If something awful happened somewhere, the chances are that you'll never see that place again, or something just as awful would just happen at the next place you landed, and then you'd have to run from that and smack face first into a brave new thing that also completely sucks."
He offers Elijah an apologetic shrug.
"It's different here. There's-- nothing to do but sit with those feelings. Reflect."
The word weakness drops right into the pit of his stomach like a stone,
and he challenges himself not to take it personally. He isn't wrong,
after all - what is it when you can't bring yourself to tolerate being
somewhere for the length of time it takes to eat a meal? Weakness.
Obviously.
Not even for a second does it cross Rhys's mind that this answer might suggest anything preferable about being traumatized in a place where you can never show it on pain of death, than to being traumatized on the Barge where you can just have a breakdown about it like a normal person.
Which means he completely misses the weight of his words, as they hit Elijah.
"I actually think-- what you're doing. Unpacking it, facing it. I know it has to be harder than that."
"I think-- that's part of why it's tough." He answers softly, "I landed here with a bunch of-- stuff already in place, in my brain, to just keep going when people are trying to kill me. I'm really glad you never needed that back home, but-- it sucks having to figure it out."
Rhys reaches across to pick up Elijah's plate. There's still kind of a lot of food there, and he remembers acutely how much weight Elijah lost last time.
"Should we bring this back to your cabin? You might wake up hungry later..."
Re: Spam
Date: 2019-12-01 09:55 pm (UTC)"Thank you."
He relaxes, slightly, as they resume their meal. Every time the door opens, every sound a little over the average bustle of the room - he pauses. But he tries not to tense up.
By the time he's cleared his plate, he's very close to thinking that he's succeeded, that this is somehow under control - and then someone drops a plate, and when it shatters he's on his feet so fast it almost flips the table.
His face blanches, and then the shame washes in, making his cheeks hot.
Re: Spam
Date: 2019-12-02 06:40 am (UTC)But that would be tacky.
Instead he goes to take the other man's hand in his own, metal fingers seeking out flesh.
"It's okay. You're okay."
He doesn't suggest leaving, although he'll be quick to follow if the other man makes for the door. Obviously he's not the adjudicator of how Elijah deals with this.
Re: Spam
Date: 2019-12-02 10:50 am (UTC)"I know I'm okay, you don't need to patronize me," he says, too sharply, snatching his hand back. "I'm also well aware that this proves your point."
But he relaxes, and sinks back into his seat, slowly. His stomach churns, but he's confident enough that he'll keep everything down that he doesn't move to leave.
Re: Spam
Date: 2019-12-02 03:31 pm (UTC)The apology is a little bit short in return, and his chest tightens a bit when Elijah sits back down.
Are they just going to stay here out of spite, now?
Rhys glances at his plate, but it was already empty, and his appetite is pretty much gone now. He pushes it away one handed.
"I'm ready to go whenever you are."
Re: Spam
Date: 2019-12-02 08:39 pm (UTC)For a moment he does nothing, just sits with his....hurt. At being snapped at.
Unexpected.
"...I apologize," he says, quiet and sincere, voice low.
Re: Spam
Date: 2019-12-02 09:10 pm (UTC)Re: Spam
Date: 2019-12-02 10:12 pm (UTC)"Yes, it is."
He finishes his water.
"Your life has been much more... eventful than mine. You've never experienced anything like this?"
Spam
Date: 2019-12-02 11:37 pm (UTC)Rhys confesses, gaze dropping to the table in front of him,
"It was different, I think. Anyone showing weakness at Hyperion would have been asking for a knife in the back, and on Pandora-- nowhere was ever safe, and we never stopped moving. If something awful happened somewhere, the chances are that you'll never see that place again, or something just as awful would just happen at the next place you landed, and then you'd have to run from that and smack face first into a brave new thing that also completely sucks."
He offers Elijah an apologetic shrug.
"It's different here. There's-- nothing to do but sit with those feelings. Reflect."
Re: Spam
Date: 2019-12-03 08:16 am (UTC)The word weakness drops right into the pit of his stomach like a stone, and he challenges himself not to take it personally. He isn't wrong, after all - what is it when you can't bring yourself to tolerate being somewhere for the length of time it takes to eat a meal? Weakness. Obviously.
"...Of course. You're right."
Re: Spam
Date: 2019-12-05 08:26 pm (UTC)Which means he completely misses the weight of his words, as they hit Elijah.
"I actually think-- what you're doing. Unpacking it, facing it. I know it has to be harder than that."
Re: Spam
Date: 2019-12-05 08:33 pm (UTC)"I have no frame of reference," he says quietly. "Of course."
He looks down at his plate. He hasn't finished his meal, but his appetite has drained.
"...I should go."
Re: Spam
Date: 2019-12-05 09:00 pm (UTC)Rhys reaches across to pick up Elijah's plate. There's still kind of a lot of food there, and he remembers acutely how much weight Elijah lost last time.
"Should we bring this back to your cabin? You might wake up hungry later..."
Re: Spam
Date: 2019-12-05 09:37 pm (UTC)Elijah shakes his head minutely.
"I have some shelf-stable items in storage if I get hungry. This won't be any good once it gets cold."
But he hears what isn't being said.
"I'm taking better care of myself, Rhys."
Re: Spam
Date: 2019-12-05 10:08 pm (UTC)He puts the plate down again, between them, looking down a little.
"I just-- I didn't know how to help, last time. I-- obviously still don't know how to help."
And he always feels like he's making it worse somehow.
Re: Spam
Date: 2019-12-05 10:16 pm (UTC)"Rhys, I'm not asking you to help me."
He pushes his chair back, rises to his feet.
"It's honestly more than enough that you're tolerating me while I try to help myself."