station72 | [hatch log] pull plug, enter multiverse

Entry tags:

[hatch log] pull plug, enter multiverse

CHARACTERS: All
WHERE: The Station + Concordia
WHEN: DAY :025 - :026
SUMMARY: Somewhere deep in Station 72, a hatch happens; new hosts arrive on Concordia.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary.

YOU WAKE UP and in a very real sense you are born again. You’re not the same person you were the last time your eyes were open. You’ll never be that person again - well, except for you, Jessica Jones. You know how this part goes, don’t you?

You might not know it right away, though. What you do know is that you’re laying down in a place very different than you were before. The walls angle around you, claustrophobic, and they emit a gentle white light that’s faint enough not to hurt your freshly opened eyes. For a moment you feel fine even if you didn’t before you went under. Whatever injuries you might have had, whatever agony you may have been experiencing, whatever fear dogged your heels, they’re all gone. It’s quiet. When you’re conscious enough to take stock of anything beyond that, you realize that you’re wearing your own clothes and that there’s a faint pinch at the base of your skull - notable as the only discomfort you feel. Reach up, feel along the tube running from the base of your neck to the compartment’s back wall. It pulls free without much fuss.

Then it’s not so quiet anymore. There’s the sensation of something more, something louder, something both big and broad and something intimately near to you. There’s the realization that you aren’t alone, that you won’t ever be alone again. You belong here. This is as correct as the murmur of something like muffled voices in the back of your head is somehow familiar, or how the press of emotion that sweeps over you now doesn’t necessarily belong to you but doesn’t feel out of place either.

You can sit up - barely -, and shift out of the pod. There’s a ladder at your feet, and a little cubby just before it with anything you brought with you, as well as a set of crisp, loose-fitting white clothes; while your injuries are healed, whatever you’re wearing is in the exact state it was before. You can hear a sound in the back of your head, a faint buzzing, something like distant waves or the murmur of a party behind a door. Drop down the ladder to the floor of the Nesting Deck and you’ll find you’re not alone - and the those sounds in your head are louder. Other people’s thoughts swim up: some of them seem clear, most of them are a jumbled mess. Some of these people call to you - their voices are louder, their feelings more clear, they feel right. Further, there’s an awareness that there are others like you - not here, not close, but somewhere: an indelible tug at the back of your mind.

Welcome to Station 72. All new hosts will have one day aboard the Station before being whisked off to Concordia to join the others. Get to know the other new hosts, and ask the guardians of the Station - Prince and Cathaway -, any burning questions you might have. By the time the day has passed, Carata will arrive on the hangar to collect you.

MEANWHILE IN CONCORDIA Angel slips into a coma on :025 at almost at the exact same time that some Hosts become aware of missing pieces fitting into place. Those hosts with new brood members waking up on the station will feel somewhere more complete; you might want to let everyone know you’ll be getting new roommates soon.

Everyone might be putting themselves and their broods back together in the wake of the explosion that left the nest down one host and injected everyone with renewed motivation to either find the people responsible or make sure nothing like what happened at Royal Street ever happens again. Things are progressing on multiple fronts, but on DAY 26 there’s an option to put some of those efforts on the back burner...

     ON THE STATION, the new hosts are herded onto a sleek, black brick-shaped transport. Carata, a woman young enough to almost be called a girl, carefully makes sure everyone is seated and strapped in. She’s all gentle, easy smiles and cheerful responses to any questions posed to her. When everyone’s safely aboard, the ship’s landing platform descends through the floor of the hangar. It snaps into place in the airlock and for a moment there’s a beat of perfect stillness, a shiver of anticipation. Then the transport is flung through the shaft, ejected into the wild black of space. There’s a nauseating lurch in your belly as it bursts through the delicate shell of the multiverse and snaps into real space above the blue and yellow marble of the planet Opia. Somewhere, thousands of miles below in the city of Concordia, your brood is waiting for you.

     IN CONCORDIA
IN CONCORDIA, as dark falls, Nirad announces he’s going to fetch Carata and the new hosts from their landing. Anyone’s welcome to accompany him on the hour long drive to the stealth transport’s landing zone. The rented bus - manned by that same (now very stoic) android - takes everyone to the outskirts of the industrial block. They arrive at a different parking garage just as the stealth transport drops out of the sky, shivering into sight as it touches down. The hosts on the ship step down and then the stealth transport lifts back off the rooftop and wrinkles out of sight. It’s unclear how many more time they’ll be able to get away with this.

Get your meet and greets in and stretch your legs; you have a few minutes before everyone piles into the van and takes the long drive back to the Bearings Apartment block where the hosts have rented out the entirely of Level 13. New hosts will find there are rooms there that as of yet unclaimed, and they’re free to begin making this their home in whatever ways they please. Get familiar with your new comrades, explore the city, or maybe just take a well deserved breather. Officially speaking, nothing much happens until--

     EARLY ON DAY 27

A NEW WINDOW POPS UP IN YOUR EXTRANET PANEL...

((OOC Notes: This is the hatch log for all new and recently returning hosts; any threads on the Station should be closed to newly awakened hosts or Station-based NPCs; a top level for Cathaway and Prince will be going live shortly. Any threads on Concordia can be open to both new and old hosts! For anything happening beyond these calendar dates, feel free to create your own logs and posts.

If you have questions about the mission specifically, direct them to the most recent calendar post HERE. You can find a more detailed overview of the hatching process HERE; you might also want to take a glance at the MISSION CONCORDIA BRIEFING. For all other questions, please hit up either the FAQ or MOD CONTACT pages.))

NAVIGATION • SETTING • FAQ • MOD CONTACT • GLOSSARY

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What don't I fly?

[ His expression is warm and teasing, which just a hint of cockiness. If this was back home, especially before the Avengers, he would have left it at that. Switched the subject back to introductions, or to which room Shiro wanted, or anything to make the transition smooth. Leave the impression of a cocky flyboy, friendly and confident and nothing else.

But that'd been back when the EXO-7 project was top secret, and Sam couldn't let anyone know that he was anything other than a retired PJ. Now, he follows it up with a one-shouldered shrug.

And does his best to ignore the way he can feel how much Shiro misses it, or that it's the same way that Sam felt when he was retired. The same way he feels now, having to lay low on Concordia. ]

I've got my gear with me, actually. Can't really do an actual demonstration while we're here, but I can show you if you wanna see it.

[It's a little strange, how the subject of being able to fly -- of flying itself -- is able to settle his nerves. Because it's familiar and easy and he knows it. It's normal. Like he was before the world turned on its head.]

[What don't I fly?]

[Lance would have loved this conversation. And thrown himself in gleefully. The memory of their fateful, albeit awful, first ride in the Blue is as fresh as ever, while he shakes his head.]

I've just done ships and... a robot, now. If you can believe that.

[Like that's something less impressive than 'anything'.]

[He does miss it. He misses the feeling of being in that cockpit. The way things had just connected. Like an extension of yourself. Now it's like a missing limb.]

Sure. I wouldn't mind having a look.

Hell yeah, I can believe it. What kind of robot?

[ He'd explain why it's so easy for him to believe, but he figures Shiro can probably get it when Sam shows off a little, so he just starts heading towards his and Clint’s room.

He gives a light rap on the door before he opens it - it's a courtesy more than anything else, because he knows Clint'd feel him coming if he was in there. But it's habit, and when they're already deeper into this mind link thing than he thinks Clint would like, he's not going to get out of it.

But there's no response, so he nudges the door open and skirts around the blanket nest that's situated between the door and the bed. He comes up with something that looks a hell of a lot more like a high tech metal backpack than anything that you could pilot, but he still shoots Shiro a pleased smirk as he straps it on. ]

Hang back for a minute, all right?

[Deep breath... and... somehow he manages to get through this without grimacing. Because you can still be incredibly proud of your team and of what you've all accomplished while still realizing how bizarre it sounds.]

A smaller, lion-shaped robot that... ends up combining with four others. Into a bigger robot.

[He ends up shaking his head a bit, regardless. He's going to have to figure out a better way to say all of this.]

[He'll follow, though, at a reasonable distance, stepping into the room behind the other man. That... sure is a pile of blankets. On the ground. He can't help the slow look around, taking it all in before his attention falls back onto Sam.]

Right. That's reassuring.

Man, one of my friends back home goes by Ant-Man and can shrink and talk to ants. I got no room to judge someone who can not only individually pilot highly advanced technology, but can effectively combine specialized weaponry to work as a team.

[ Which might be overdoing it - for all he knows they could use their robots to perform aviation shows or something - but that's not the vibe he gets off Shiro. And seeing as the EXO-7 project could be summed up as “We strapped on metal wings and went flying,” Sam maybe knows something about bizarre sounding projects.

Hey, now, that blanket nest is not only extremely comfy, it also happens to be at the perfect vantage point to have an excellent view of the door, and be able to quickly move in on anyone unwanted who might come through it.

Not that he and Clint are paranoid. It's just that hanging out in Oceantanamo makes you a little… well, all right, maybe paranoid.

But he doesn't want to focus on that, either. So instead he chuckles, low and teasing. ]

I'm showing off here, it's not supposed to sound reassuring.

[ He rolls his shoulders a little, and just like that his wings are out, flaring up behind him. The room’s not wide enough for him to spread them all the way out, and even though they aren't really a part of him, there’s an itch as if they were. A longing to really stretch them out and take off, and he knows some of that trickles through the mental link before he pulls himself back. ]

... It might honestly be magic, if that... tells you anything.

[And means he's not a hero. Or... whatever he might have accidentally built up in the other man's head. That he didn't mean to. They all stumbled into that mess, and were all just trying to make it work. It's nothing that heroic -- not for him. For the others... yes.]

[For kids whose lives weren't already destroyed, it was.]

[He prods at the blankets with a toe, in case someone else is hiding in there. Who knows? He wouldn't be surprised at this point.]

[Only to look back up as the guy's backpack sprouts literal wings. And there's no way to deny the sudden spark of surprise and interest and oh my god that is so cool that makes him suddenly look like the twenty-something kid he is, for once.]

That's... that's amazing. And they work?

[How do they work? Do they flap? Are they articulated enough for that? How can they get lift when they're metal? How -- ]

[The questions cease at that feeling. A feeling which slams into him hard, despite being barely a trickle. And suddenly he's back in his own cockpit, flying blind over a barren world and trusting this massive being that's probably more magic than science to tell him when they need to pull up. When they need to adjust their position and for once everything is calm and still -- like nothing could possibly go wrong so long as his hands are on these controls and this presence wants him to steer its course.]

[He has to blink a few times before he can really... orient himself, pushing a hand through his hair.]

They're incredible.

[Nice save.]

Brother, I stopped trying to figure out what's magic and what's science years ago.

[ Somewhere around the time that people started coming back from the dead, though really, there's a dozen of other things that could do it. Point is, Shiro's probably gonna have a hard sell convincing Sam that he's not a hero.

And Sam can't help but light up a little at the reaction he gets out of Shiro getting a glimpse of the wings. Damn, but he looks a hell of a lot younger than Sam's first read, but that only convinces him that he'd been right about this guy having seen some shit. Almost reminds him of Steve, or hell, even Barnes, the fleeting moments that something happened to make him remember that despite everything, both of them are technically still in their twenties.

But any reply he might have to that is cut off when the feeling of missing flying spikes one of Shiro's own, a memory that suddenly Sam's caught up in, feeding off of.

You'd think Sam would know better, given the way he and Barnes had triggered each other when they first met on the station, got caught in a flashback loop until Sam had managed to jerk himself out of it. But that'd been the rough shit, the kind of stuff that Sam'd spent a long time working though. This is the good stuff, the kind that Sam spent almost as long working on bringing it back. He doesn't have the same experience in trying to cut it off.

And there's a part of him that doesn't want to. He knows it has to be bleeding through even more, the memory of using the wings, the feeling of warm air buffeting against him and the adrenaline rushing in his veins, the sheer sense of freedom and belonging that nothing else has ever come close to, not when he’s up in the air like this. When nothing can go wrong as long as he’s got his wings, because this? This is his world.

Sam doesn’t yank himself out of it so much as let it go, blinking back at Shiro as he sucks in a ragged breath and lets it out, nice and slow. ]

Yeah. You too.

[God he wishes it was here. Wishes he could sit in that cockpit again. Where everything felt sure and steady. Even when giant monsters appear out of nowhere, when they have to protect whole planets from the creatures' rampage.]

[It was like an extension of yourself after a while. Better than anything he'd ever flown before. Unlike anything he'd ever fly again. And he misses it. Sharply and strongly, like another missing limb. And maybe that's true, now. Maybe being cut off so completely from the Black Lion is going to feel like that for the rest of his time here.]

[But those thoughts are secondary to that memory. The clear and perfect instant where their minds were one unit. Where the ground dropped away under them, and nothing stood between them. Where suddenly, for a few moments, he wasn't the escaped prisoner or the science experiment or even the failed Garrison pilot. Where maybe Allura was right and they could do this.]

[This is his world... This is their element.]

[He wishes he could keep riding this memory and feeling for longer, but Sam pulling away makes it fall apart into fragments. He blinks. Eyes wide and startled. Breathing too fast.]

... you... did you do that...?

[ Those feelings keep trickling through - An extension of yourself, like missing a limb - and Sam really has to start pulling back now, before they end up feeding off each other more. Sam knows exactly what that's like, after he retired and they locked his wings up in a dusty bunker, after he managed to get them back only to have them literally ripped off him.

But Sam can already tell that Shiro's got more than enough of his own shit going on to deal with any of that, and now that he's come back to himself, he knows how to not let that through. Like he'd already known, it's easier with the bad stuff - easier to focus on a sea of clouds, on one of his warm and peaceful flights, white lit up with pinks and golds from the sun. Steady.

He doesn't want to slam up walls and cut himself off suddenly, because that usually comes with it's own kick. But he can sink back below that cloud layer, nice and easy, keeping his breathing slow and steady and calm. Never thought visualization and thought defusion would come in handy like this, but hell, whatever works. ]

We both did that. Haven't had it happen like that before, man, I got a lot more experience letting go of the not so awesome shit.

... so people do slip up.

[Somehow, that's a bit more reassuring. Like he's not the only one risking everyone else's mind. It's good to hear, even if it really doesn't bode well. He'd only worried about showing others what was kicking around in the back of his brain, not... whether or not they'd be dragged down with him.]

[Back home, every time he got lost in a flashback, he'd only ever endangered himself. And that was an acceptable risk, to him.]

[Here... if and when it happens, everyone around him might fall into the same pit. Literally and figuratively. And that can't happen. That's not something anyone should ever experience.]

How do you stop something like that? Keep it from spreading to the rest of the people here?

Yeah, we do. Everyone slips up sometimes.

[ Both in trying to figure out the mental links and in, well, everything else. Maybe Shiro hasn't exactly admitted to anything yet, but Sam can't help but think of him the same as he did when talking to a fellow vet back at the VA. Sam's only gotten flashes when they were connected, but he has a feeling there's a hell of a lot more than he knows there.

Especially when Shiro asks that. Sam rolls his shoulders a little, wings folding back in on themselves, and does what he always does when he gets that kind of question. He opens up, takes the first step towards making a safe place to share by offering up some of himself. ]

My first day here, someone had a flashback, and it triggered one of mine. It'd been a long time since I had one that intense, kind of knocked me useless for a minute. But I've learned how to deal with them, you know? Keep them from controlling my life. With a little practice, the shit I learned to help with them translates pretty well to keeping all this in check.

Do they?

[What if they're not supposed to? Allura had made that clear, the first day they took flight. He's the leader. He has to be in control. Everyone else is going to look to him for that assurance.]

[And if he can't give it...]

[He's folded up his arms. Shoulders hunched. Like that's supposed to help something here. Even if it won't really. He's got to do this. Got to be the one managing things -- no one else has that role.]

[But then Sam is talking, and his head jerks up like it's on a string. Staring at Sam like the man just started talking gibberish or some alien language he's yet to overhear. Just hearing that someone else has gone through the same thing... someone else had the same thing... That he's not the only one -- because what else could a flashback be but what he's experienced time and time again.]

You... you have them too?

Course they do. No one can ever be perfect, man. Hell, usually the people who try just end up fucking up more, because they're not prepared to adjust when they do slip up.

[ One thing Sam's never thought he could be was perfect, even back in his cocky, invincible days, but yeah, he knows what it's like to expect more of yourself, to believe you can't have any slip ups or back tracks. He likes to think he's better about that these days, if only because he can remind himself often that progress isn't a straight line.

Sam's chest tightens a little at the way Shiro's looking at him, and he swallows at that question. Definitely like one of the vets back at the VA, one of the ones who didn't know there was a word for what they were feeling, that they might not be the only one. That there might be something they could do about it.

He doesn't say any of that, though, he just nods. ]

Flashbacks, nightmares, the shit you don't remember and the shit you can't stop remembering even if you wish you couldn't? Yeah, I had them. Still do, they're just fewer and less overwhelming than they were a few years ago. I can pull myself out of them just about all the time now.

[ Sam takes in a deep breath and lets it out, projecting calm in a way he learned how to on his own, not through the mental link. He doesn't wanna spook the guy, so he's just gonna keep that locked down. ]

You're not alone, Shiro. I don't know what you've been through and I'm not gonna ask you to talk about it unless you think you're ready to share it with someone, but... you don't gotta be alone.

I don't think I can argue there.

[Because while he's always had to be in control, sometimes... it hurts. Sometimes it's so hard. But Allura made it clear. He has to be the leader. He has to have his brain in order, his exterior has to be pulled together.]

[But it's all falling apart the longer the reassurances go on. It's starting to crumble and there are cracks showing, raw and ragged like the scars all over his body that he doesn't remember bearing before. Oozing ugly images like blood.]

[He has never... heard someone talk so frankly about what keeps running through his mind. What keeps tearing his attention away from situations where it might be needed. He didn't even know it was something that happened to anyone else. To someone who hadn't been through what the Galra put him through.]

[... why did you think a monster like you ... broken and reformed ...]

[It's there in a flash and smashing into his chest like a physical blow, the way that voice had echoed through his head and squeezed out any trace of calm confidence. Because why did he think he was special, why did he think he had any hope of overcoming anything, why did--]

[You're not alone.]

[And he doesn't have to be.]

[The cracks widen with sharp stabs of some emotion he can't name, and he has no idea how much is screaming out of him. How much of anything he's bleeding everywhere. Not alone... it never even seemed possible. And suddenly his eyes ache with clouding moisture he doesn't remember having a chance, having time, or space to feel before.]

I ... I didn't know... I didn't think it -- I didn't know.

[ No matter how practiced Sam's gotten at regulating his own emotions and keeping himself from prying into people's heads, it's not perfect, and it's a hell of a lot harder to completely block someone else's. Especially when they're this intense, and especially when they resonate so deep in Sam. Shit, he's just glad Shiro's not in his brood right now, or he'd been feeling this even worse.

But he'd already learned to do this with Barnes, when his broodmate was cracking and bleeding all over him. He learned to take it in like a sponge, soak up the pain and fear and guilt and everything else and let it go. Keep himself from getting caught up without forcing his own calm out, without stifling what Shiro's feeling.

As shitty as it is, Sam knows that sometimes letting yourself feel it can be real fucking important. ]

I know. I didn't, either. Lot of people don't.

[ He takes a few steps forward, telegraphing his movements real damn clear, nice and slow. Because Shiro looks like he's about to cry - Sam can feel how close he is to crying - and there's no way in hell that Sam's not going to offer to be a shoulder for that. He reaches out, slow and easy, stopping short of touching the guy and letting his hand linger like an invitation. ]

Can I?

I didn't know -- I had -- I thought...

[I thought I could get over it. I thought it would go away. I thought I could live with it. I thought I thought I thought.]

[He doesn't realize he's repeating himself, either. Or how fast he's breathing. This revelation is something he wants so badly to seize on. To grab it and believe it.]

[But what if there's a reason he didn't know. What if he... what if he deserves to feel this way for things he's done? For everything he doesn't remember as 'the Champion'. Does he deserve to be 'not alone'?]

[Be in control at all times.]

[He's let them down. If he breaks down he lets them down. Doesn't he? Wouldn't he?]

[He's fighting so hard to keep it all in. It almost doesn't register that Sam is moving, until there's a hand reached out. It's not in danger of grasping The Arm so he doesn't do more than nod shakily, not quite processing the request beyond that it won't inadvertently hurt Sam somehow.]

[ Sam holds himself still, stance loose and open, as he does his best to ignore what Shiro's putting off. It ain't fair to be picking up on the guy's thoughts and emotions like this, even when Sam could probably do it pretty damn well without the mental link. Especially when he could do it without the mental link, actually.

Best he can do is keep on breathing, let Shiro sort through everything that's going on in his head, and keep himself a blank slate so he doesn't cause any kind of feedback loop.

When Shiro gives him a nod, Sam moves in the last few inches, curling his hand around the guy's shoulder - the nonmetal one - to pull him in for a hug. The second he touches Shiro, he's hit with a wave of exhaustion - goddamn when was the last time Shiro actually slept - but he pushes past it, because hell that only makes him more convinced that Shiro could really use some help. ]

You're not alone. You can let go a little, all right, just for a minute. I promise you the world ain't gonna end, that whatever you've got on your shoulders isn't gonna come crashing down, that no one's gonna know but you and me.

[Really use some help is probably an understatement. He doesn't remember the last time he slept well. Or longer than an hour or so. It's been too damn long, but there was never time, and when he did try...]

[When he did try, the dreams were impossible to ignore.]

[When he did try, he wishes he didn't.]

[But he's... honestly surprised when he's hugged. He wasn't expecting this, of all things. He'd expected another speech about how he had to be the level head. Be the one in control. It was his job. His role. He couldn't let anyone down again.]

[Instead, that's not what he hears. And it's... it throws him. He feels his resistance breaking down, and actually bows his head.]

[It's not really crying. He's still holding it back. If only because Pidge is here and she can't know. He can't let her down -- can't break where she can see or feel. But the repetition, the words you're not alone...]

[There are definitely tears.]

I didn't know.

[ At least if nothing else, Sam can be sure that Shiro's gonna come out of this feeling a hell of a lot more rested than he had before. Sam knows this kind of exhaustion, now that he's feeling it. It's the kind he had in the months after Riley's death, when sleep was a distant memory and every time he closed his eyes he was back in the desert with smoke and blood and char; the kind he had during his time in the Raft and the nights after.

Damn but Shiro needs help, probably more than what Sam can give, but he sure as hell is going to try anyway. It's never been in him to turn his back on someone like this.

His heart beats steady, chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, and he shifts just a little so his shoulder is right next to Shiro's bowed head, all but touching. An invitation, as he keeps his arms around him. ]

I got you, all right? It's okay, long as you need, keep going as long as you need and I'll be right here. Just let it go, you don't gotta be alone.

[He's... what does he say? What can he say? Anything that comes to mind is too little. Or too cliche or too... something. How does he thank a stranger for a reassurance he really never thought would ever come? It's like suddenly being offered the key to destroying the Galra forever.]

[Impossible. Unreal.]

[He doesn't really know how long he stands there, rigid, and trying everything not to completely give in to how much his emotions want to run wild and rip through him. The last time that happened, they lose valuable information. And it was all his fault.]

[A lot of things are his fault, aren't they?]

I... can't do that. [Even as he's focusing his best on breathing and stopping himself from crying here.] I can't -- let her hurt.

[ It doesn't surprise him that Shiro starts steeling himself back up, shutting down. Honestly, Sam kind of figures that the only reason he got him to open up that much was the sheer shock of not being alone, of hearing there might be a reason for what he was dealing with.

But that doesn't mean Sam's gonna drop it. ]

Brother, I can promise you right now that you being able to break down a little every now and then, when you need it, isn't gonna hurt anybody. Whatever you got going on up here- [ He taps the side of Shiro's temple, lightly. ] It's gonna come out. That's part of what the flashbacks and nightmares are, your brain trying to deal with it all.

[ He steps back a little so he can look at Shiro, hold gone loose. ]

If you want, if you'll let me, I can teach you how to cope with it. How to put yourself back together, how to recognize the signs and stop it before it gets bad. I can show you what works for me, what’s worked for others, and help you find what works for you.

It can't.

[He doesn't mean for it to come out harshly. But it's not the same -- it's not the same for everyone else as it is for him. Maybe... he really is alone.]

[He can't let it come out, because he has to be the one in control. He has to be the leader. There's... no way around that. No wiggle room.]

[When Sam moves away, so does he, forcing any trace of what just happened off his face. Throttling it back under wraps again. And, honestly, trying not to let it show how much he wants to jump at the offer. Latch onto it desperately.]

... It would be appreciated. Thank you.

[ Sam's eyebrows raise a little when Shiro says it can't, but the way he's trying to hide how desperate he is keeps Sam from saying too damn bad, it's gonna happen anyway.

Instead he gives Shiro's shoulder a squeeze, voice low but not exactly soft. ]

Why, because people are counting on you? Because if you break down it ain't just yourself you're putting in danger, it's a whole lot of other people? Because you can't let them see you like that, so you're just gonna keep going and keep going cause that's gotta be better, right?

[ He shakes his head. ]

Man, I know about can't, I've heard other people talk about it and I've felt it myself. It's always gonna come through. Best thing you can do is give it an outlet, like this. [ He gestures between them. ] Learn how to keep it from interfering, get better at managing it, but pushing it away or shoving it down isn't gonna do any good.

[He doesn't even know how to hide things at this point. Aside from just not thinking about them. Aggressively not thinking about them.]

[And he doesn't want to admit how right all of that is. How it's so true, it's unnerving. Part of him wants to open up and start spilling everything out. Tell him everything -- the lack of memory, the flashes, the way the others look at him when it happens, how he's already let them down enough --]

[But he flinches, and holds it back. Because he can't let someone see him like that.]

I didn't have any other choice. I've -- I've never had any other choice.

[ Shiro doesn't have to tell him that all of that hits home - Sam can see it in his face, in the way he flinches.

But he nods at what Shiro says, immediately and without hesitation. ]

No, you probably didn't. Whatever you've done up until now, it's been to survive the best way you can - and it sounds like to protect other people, to keep them surviving. I'm sure as hell never gonna fault you for doing what you needed to do.

[ Lord knows Sam pushed himself past what he should've before he was finally forced to admit he wasn't gonna be any good to anyone if he kept going like he was. He's still holding back on his own shit, for the most part, but a little bit of that trickles through - that others may live - before he lets out another breath. ]

But you got a choice now. I don't expect you to make it immediately, but it's here. You don't have to keep going like that, brother. Any time you feel like you're gonna break, I'm here. [ He gives a final squeeze before he lets go completely, fighting back exhaustion, but hell, at least Shiro should come out of this feeling it less. ] Just think about it. We can start with the other stuff, learning how to keep it from interfering with your life.

[hatch log] pull plug, enter multiverse

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