station72 | mental link

[ Her options are at this point, are brood up how much she wants to kill Damon and Elena, or get on with work. She didn't do so well at brooding, though her mind is still so new, so sharp and edged and not kept inside of herself. But in this case, a fire trying to find new kindling to keep itself going. Her own impatience and frustration are evident. But when isn't she anyway - ]

( I was informed when I arrived that we need to be ... ascertaining particular pieces of information.

Have we begun such? If not, should we not begin planning to reconnoitre? )

[ She has already plans, but even so, if it's already been done - well, she's happy to be told if it means she doesn't have to go chasing her own tail. ]

( And does anyone know how to use these - light books - that has the time to show me? It keeps flashing at me and I cannot make it stop. I think it wants something. )

[ The data pad, she means the data pad, she's grouchy at it for not! giving her! the things! she wants! Being a grandma in space is a trial. ]

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Hey, you should hear the guys when I tell them they've got morning training drills. It's almost as bad.

[Almost. They're not actually children. But they're family all the same. As much as Pidge is. And, as long as they're sharing, there's no harm in offering up the missing three faces. Yellow, Red and Blue.]

[It does hurt, thinking about them. How they're not here. It feels incomplete, like pieces that won't ever fall back into place.]

... you all right? Being so far from them.

[ To that - she laughs. Because what else she can do, her fingers flicking away the thought. Are you alright? Her aches slow and bitter in her lungs. A pain, so all the way through, it is like she was cut, that day, that laying there, pained and breathing in a moment where there was simply nothing else. A different kind of battle. To have her son, or to die. That in the moment she held him, there would be nothing else but knowing her arms would always be empty without him. ]

The first thing a mother learns when she loves her children, from the day you bring them into the world, half of you will always be missing. It is an old ache. I am well adjusted.

[ She shakes her head, looking at her work. ] I know I raised them to be strong, in the face of everything. I must take solace in that.

[ What she cannot, will not talk about, is just how long two of them have been dead, all that is left to her, now, is Devi. She will not waver, she is braver than anyone should ever have to be. ]

[He doesn't know what to say there. He's no one's parent. Even if what the five of them have carved out for themselves in the Castle is as close to a family as they'll get. Being here without them still stings some days. Days when he either holds a little tighter to Sam's hand, or hangs in Pidge's shadow a little more intently than usual.]

I'm sorry.

[It doesn't feel like it's enough, but, it's all he can think of. He reaches out, and almost sets a hand on her shoulder. Almost. It falls back at the last moment, because that feels like overstepping something.]

I... don't know how that feels. But if you need to let loose a little... I'll listen.

[ To that she says nothing. Talking at length of such matters isn't something she will ever do. How could she, especially now? When it was mixed with such horror, such pain, such misery? He would feel it - feel it all. That part of her that is still a woman staring into a pyre, asking if it would finally end this feeling if she simply stepped into the flames like Sita. ]

You are a good man. [ It's said not dismissive, but decisively. She appreciates the offer, but it is nothing she will ever be inclined to follow through on. Not with him - not with anyone. ] Come, would you like to see how I do this? This is twice you show me how to do something like this. I must give you something in return.

You're the first person besides Sam and Pidge not to say that like it's a bad thing.

[There's some kind of dry, tired amusement in the statement. As much as the names invoke a lot of fond thoughts -- no way to hide it. He doesn't even try to anymore. But it's honest he's used to hearing that said like it's a flaw.]

[A shake of his head, but he's not saying no.]

Hey, I'll give it a shot. Can't be any worse than putting me in the kitchen.

Perhaps only a rare thing.

[ But they have been over that - how she is bitter, and he is earnest, and here they both were. With her sewing in old habits, and him trying things. If this is to be their pattern, she does not mind it at all as she pushes to sit up straight, at last she pushes her veil further back. the fall of her undone hair, thick with the smell of smoke the way she had dried it a life time ago, falling over her shoulder. ]

It is called chain stitches. The first you'll we all learn. [ She leans across to begin to show him. Holding up the thin, metal hook, and the material she holds stiff between her fingers and shows him how she puts the needle through wraps the thread underneath, then pulls it up to make a loop, that she repeats the same stitch, to hook the previous one too. ] Think you have?

A rare, double-sided thing, huh?

[It comes out more lighthearted than it sounded in his head. Before he settles in, watching her work. Attempting to absorb it as she demonstrates. Maybe this is something that would be up Pidge's alley. Or Hunk's. They both work with tech, with machines and engineering. It looks like it needs the same kind of precision.]

I'll give it a try. If you don't mind?

[If she doesn't mind him accidentally pulling it wrong, he means.]

By all means.

[ After all, nothing he could do that she could not undo with enough time. No more than something to fill her time whilst she thought. So for now, she holds it up to him, the fabric in one hand, the needle in the other. ]

mental link | day: 006

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