wentnuclear | [ reverie inbox ]

Better with girls?

[Raleigh please.]

Most people considered both of you the golden boys.

My record didn't mention the time we almost got booted from the program because we were fighting over a groupie?

[ He shrugs a little, the movement shifting her against him -- he hasn't let go. ]

I guess we both were. But Yancy more than me. Just... better.

[She shifts, trying to peek up at him.]

I haven't heard that story.

Well. It's not flattering. We used to hit the bars to pick up girls together... I thought this one was interested in me, but Yancy got the date and didn't tell me. I saw them through the drift during a simulation and got pissed, and it sort of spiraled. Brought up all these other issues we had with each other. We were heading into active duty but Pentecost said if we kept fighting we were out.

I'm surprised he didn't report it.

[Mako hums quietly, not quite sure what to say to that. It's... not exactly flattering, he's right.]

...Maybe he was giving you a second chance.

[ Sorry, Mako. He's not proud of it at all, but it's the truth. ]

He did. And we got over it, obviously. Nothing like that ever happened again.

[Mako just nods against him.]

I still don't think that makes him better than you.

I mean, I can't exactly prove it, here. Can't pull up report cards or drift to show you that he won our spars, anything like that. But I can tell you that's what happened, and that Yancy was the one who always came out on top.

...until I made the wrong call.

[That's not entirely the point she's trying to make. She doesn't care about grades or sparring records or anything else, just Raleigh. Who he is. But none of that seems as important when he finishes his thought. Mako pulls away to look up at him, arms still looped around his middle, her voice quiet.]

Raleigh, that wasn't your fault.

[ His original point was that she only knows who he is now. Not then -- he was someone totally different. ]

I know. I know, and we've had this conversation before. Sorry.

It's okay.

[She doesn't mind talking about it as much as he needs to. No one has ever survived what Raleigh did, and Mako knows she's the only one who can come close to getting it, considering she's been in his head. It's the least she can do.]

You don't believe me, do you?

...I want to? I believe that you believe it. It's just hard to change what I feel.

[Mako nods, tightening her grip on him.]

I don't think he would want you to blame yourself.

I know. That I do believe, and it helps too. Like you.

[That makes the color rise right to her cheeks, but she smiles.]

You help me, too. I'm glad you became my copilot.

I do?

[ He's not sure quite how... he tries to be a steady presence for her, knowing she's still in pain. But she hasn't really talked about it. ]

[It throws her off. She blinks up at him, wondering how it hasn't been obvious.]

Of course. I've never been able to... to talk to anyone as easily as you.

[ Raleigh's brow furrows slightly, and he rubs his hand between her shoulders, considering that. ]

We haven't really, though. Talked about you. I know it's hard to figure out where to start, but I'd listen if you wanted to.

[She frowns, gaze dropping. He's right—she's really not sure where to start.]

I miss him.

Do you draw him too?

Yes. I draw all of them.

[ Of course she does. He didn't actually expect a different answer, but it still makes him smile at her. ]

Can I see?

[Well this... might be awkward. There are a lot of pictures of him in there. She hesitates, then nods, untangling herself from him to grab her sketchbook and hand it over.

It's mostly drawings of the station and notes, but Raleigh dominates the portraits. They're little sketches of him, clearly drawn when he was doing something else and not fully paying attention, but there are other people, too—the Wei Tang brothers, Sasha and Aleksis, Chuck, and then some he won't recognize, like her parents and Tamsin. And, of course, Pentecost.]

[ Raleigh takes the sketchbook, stepping over to sit on the bed and go through it. She can join him, obviously.

The book seems to be split in function -- more like a journal on some pages with her notes, those sketches of the station and occasionally the people they've met here. Then pages of just straight art, those all people from home. Well. And him. Obviously he falls into that category too, but there are. A lot of him. He's not entirely certain what to make of that, and so just lets his mouth quirk up wryly. ]

We clearly need to find you some more interesting people to look at.

[ He stops flipping at a larger sketch of Pentecost, one where he looks a little less proper than usual. Despite technically having known the older man for years, Raleigh never had much opportunity to see him smile. Somehow, in the sketch, it reaches his eyes. ]

You're a great artist, you know.

[It's a little nerve-wracking, having him go through it while she's sitting right next to him. It's an intensely personal thing, and maybe that shouldn't be so strange considering he's been in her head, but it is. She's flustered, and it gets worse the more sketches of himself he passes.]

You are interesting.

[It comes out automatically, and then she feels stupid and just clams up, at least until he compliments her.]

...Thank you.

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