[It sounds far more defensive than he means it in this charged and too-quiet space. Nothing settles easy in air like this. He can't even hold himself upright when shrinking back seems so much more ideal (though how much of that is injuries, he isn't saying).]
...You don't need to thank me. For this, or anything else.
[But he might just hold onto the sound of it anyway. For posterity. Knowing it can and has been said.
He starts to turn for the door, and pauses, one hand poised near the controls. Even with the opening and the urge to take it rising, he lingers.]
Are you-- [No, she's not doing alright. No one here is.] How are you holding up?
[Safer. Maybe too much so, but it's not a sentiment he can shake. Not knowing that she'd been on the Outpost and not here where everyone belonged (in a manner of speaking, at least).]
no subject
[It sounds far more defensive than he means it in this charged and too-quiet space. Nothing settles easy in air like this. He can't even hold himself upright when shrinking back seems so much more ideal (though how much of that is injuries, he isn't saying).]
...You don't need to thank me. For this, or anything else.
[But he might just hold onto the sound of it anyway. For posterity. Knowing it can and has been said.
He starts to turn for the door, and pauses, one hand poised near the controls. Even with the opening and the urge to take it rising, he lingers.]
Are you-- [No, she's not doing alright. No one here is.] How are you holding up?
[Safer. Maybe too much so, but it's not a sentiment he can shake. Not knowing that she'd been on the Outpost and not here where everyone belonged (in a manner of speaking, at least).]