whatmatters | ♖ IC inbox [SANCTUM]

I'm going home after we talk. "Home." [She adds some air quotes at the repeat of the word. Nothing is home anymore, even back in her own world. The closest she can come is being around the people she cares about, the ones who care about her. That's why she stayed elsewhere.]

I stayed on base during the riots, then with a friend. Where were you? [She gives him a pointed look. Ringer doesn't owe him any answers and, while she'll give the ones she feels like, the lack of reciprocation is noted.]

[There's an understanding nod. Home. Yeah. He gets it. He was never emotionally attached to any location. A bed was a bed. But after his place in D4 got trashed, he definitely felt a little violated.]

I was working. [And she reads into the fact that he didn't stay anywhere during the riots, that he didn't stop, well, then there's not much he can do about it. He could lie. But he doesn't feel like lying. Not right now. Not to Ringer. Evasive however, well, it's hard to kill every old habit immediately.] My place got trashed, hole where one of my walls used to be. So I'm staying at a friend's extra place until my house is built.

[She listens and accepts his answers. FDR's working himself too hard and now he's staying with a friend. As fucked up as they might both be, at least they seem to be pretty good at taking care of themselves when it really matters. That's worth enough that she's not going to worry too much. Ringer has spent enough of her life already mothering her own father; she doesn't need friends that require the same.]

With Whiskey? [He has other friends, she has no doubt, but the vague comments she caught while half delirious make her wonder at FDR's and Whiskey's relationship. It's a subtle way of asking for details without overt prying.]

With Whiske-no. [and he shook his head, a little surprised to hear that question come from Ringer.] He's got a house full of people I've never met. Not exactly the ideal sleeping environment. a friend in District One, Juliett. She's got an empty place she's letting me stay.

[There, now it's fair game for him to ask, right?] Are you staying with Alpha?

[Ringer makes a face at his mention of Juliett. She can't help it. Last she heard, the woman was being taken in by Compliance. And it was Alpha telling her about it, her boss who had a too-sad cadence in his voice for his relationship with the other Callsign to be strictly professional. She suppresses the surprised and slightly disapproving expression away, replaced with only mild surprise at his question.]

I was. [A beat.] Are you spying on me?

[Well, that's an interesting face.] What? What'd she do to you?

And no. I mean-I wasn't trying to. It's just that outside the hospital room, I heard you guys talking. [But that's not really what's important there.] Are you and him-you know- a thing?

She had her memory tampered with. Compliance. [She replies flatly, just in case FDR happens to be unaware. Though Ringer can't really imagine that he doesn't know. But it does push her out into a new space of needing information, where privacy be damned. It sounds nothing like jealousy, instead almost clinical.] What's your relationship with her?

[To the latter, she sighs a little and she can feel her face heating up at his question. Ringer turns her head away from him, an unconscious gesture to hide her embarrassment, even knowing he's likely already seen.] 'A thing?' Are you twelve?

Edited 2015-02-06 03:42 (UTC)

[Several times. But he wonders which one she's talking about. Recently? She didn't mention recently. Or had she? It had been a rough night.] She's one of the first people I met here. Set me up with clothes. Just gave me the loan I needed to build my house. [Because he can't tell her that she's his employer, even if he wanted to.]

[And there's a snort at her response. The lack of an actual answer, but that blush is pointing in a particular direction that has his eyes narrowing in suspicion. And that's something to discuss. But when she throws out an age...well that's something else that's been eating at him.] No. Are you seventeen?

Be careful. [She knows that response. Like Cassie talking about Evan, or Zombie with Nugget, there's a certain stubbornness that comes with familiarity. The tree branch to cling to on the cliff of unbearable truths, a salvation that it's not right to deny even if she wanted him to. Which she doesn't. Ringer's only worried for his well being for now.

At the latter, she looks to him again, blush subsiding. She doesn't like where this is going.] We're not 'a thing.' Yes, I'm seventeen. Does it matter?

[There's a nod. Comments and other information bit back. He understands the warning though. Until...yesterday, she had pinged pretty hard on his danger radar too. Now he at least knew why.]

No? Ringer, you conversation with him didn't really seem--like an employer and employee. [Not that he can talk really, about that particular kind of relationship now, but still.] And I'm just-look, you're one of the most mature women I've met in a while-most of the time. But, he's a lot older and...and you need to be careful too, okay?

[Ringer's almost as worried about FDR's relationship with Juliett because of Alpha's relationship with the woman as she is about the Compliance aspect. It's enough for her to make a mental note to ask Alpha about their relationship later. Maybe he'll even tell her.

FDR's reply to her own situation with Alpha is met with a flat stare. That's all she's willing to offer for his thoughts and worries. She doesn't like that he was eavesdropping on her, doesn't like that he's now apparently judging her for her age, and that he seems to be skirting the line between being a concerned friend and thinking he has a say over what she does in her life.

A moment after he finishes, she finally replies.] Are you done?

[She'll give him a moment to say yes if he wants.] I trust him as much as I trust you, but he knows more about this place. That's all it is.

[Okay. Okay, if she's making that face at him then things are getting a little out of hand. He's not used to seeing that on anyone's face except Tuck. And Tuck usually gave into him. But this isn't Tuck. It's a woman. A teenage one at that. He's out of his depths here. So he'll...drop it.

He's got other ways of making sure she's okay around Alpha.]

Yeah. Done.

[And well. Okay. Once again he doesn't know what to say about that. So. He'll. Just. move on.] You still thinking about quitting?

[Ringer gives him another look, genuinely surprised he didn't push the subject. She appreciates that, really, but there's a small part of her that would rather explain than have to deal with this conversation - or same facsimile thereof - at a later date. Too bad she doesn't believe in exposition without the questions to prompt it.

At his question, she shakes her head.] No. I hate everything about this place, but I don't know what else I'd do here. I want to go home to fight an un-winnable war with whichever of my friends aren't already dead. I don't want to go soft or get comfortable or enjoy my time.

Edited (dialog (tweaking order)) 2015-02-10 05:24 (UTC)

That's- [Another argument he knows he won't win. He's tried time and time again to get her to accept the fact that a little bit of enjoyment isn't a bad thing. The closest he's got to convincing her of that is the weekly pool game. That'll just have to be good enough.]

If you need help. If you can't depend on your partner? Can't get Alpha to answer your calls? Ringer, call me. You don't have to be alone. [Yeah, it's hard to forget everything he heard through that hospital door.] I'll have some free time on my hands.

[Because she may be staying on, but he's got plans to quit the army.]

[If she can't rely on her partner. Alpha's her partner half the time now. The other half is the same partner she had when the crowd separated them and she was shot. Ringer holds zero blame for the man; the situation was unavoidable. She had no qualms depending on him even now, like she depends on Alpha. But the sentiment does remind her of something.

She's about to ask when his remark about being alone catches her off guard. The girl can't even begin to express how deeply and profoundly alone she feels right now. She'd closed herself off for years, but then Razor had taken all of that and cast it aside and, thanks to the 12th System, they were one and the same and she'd been whole. To go from that to this place, where even her friends are gone.. Well, the only reason she hasn't done something stupid like kill herself or drown herself in alcohol are because those aren't really options for her.

She pauses, grimacing, and it's obvious she's holding something back. Rather than give in to her weakness, however, she opts for a diversion. It's too hard to trust FDR when she suspects he's made the same offer to half the dome.]

Why do you have an advanced med kit? [It's the memory of being shot and relying on him that spurs the recollection; he told her to ask again when they were somewhere private and safe.] And why will you have free time?

[She may not hold any blame. But he does. Partners don't leave eachother. They don't get swept up in the crowd. They work together. For all the rough patches he was having with Tuck, he knew the man would have his back, would tell him to duck when a gun was pointed his way. And he'd do the same. Always. That's how partners work.

It's unrealistic maybe, based on television shows like CHiPs and other buddy cop shows, based on his own almost dependent relationship on his partner, but that's how he expects it to be. It's what he's offering Ringer. Something he hasn't offered anyone else. Not like this. He's offered a different kind of partnership to Whiskey. And that's it.

Friends, yes. To a few people. but not partners.

And this. That question. It'd be an immediate lie to anyone else. And that fact makes him move with a little too much energy. Need to know basis, was the order. This isn't a need to know basis. But he wants to tell her.]

Got a new job. That I can't talk about. Being a soldier in the army? Just isn't really my thing.

[Ringer likes to pretend that she can remain detached, that she picks up friends and cares about them, but that she's more capable of remaining robotic in dealing with situations than anyone expects. It's mostly bullshit. The truth is that the walls she's built help hide that fact from the outside world, but sometimes little things, like FDR's honesty right now, wiggle through and remind her how much it hurts to be alone.

Thanks to a childhood of pretending, she's able to hide that pain, to simply raise an eyebrow in response to his admission.] Is it a good thing or are you in trouble?

No trouble. [And he moves a few steps forward, reaches out to pat her shoulder before sitting down on a nearby stump.]

Things are...they're okay. For being here. For everything that's happened. [And a lot had happened. Fights and hurt feelings, and missing people, and a destroyed apartment, and an injured friend, an injured...boyfriend date thing. Getting a little strung out on stims. But, he feels okay right now. Having people that care, Juliett, Whiskey, Ringer. Others. That makes things okay. Honestly.]

Worry about you, though.

[She watches him. It's a little reassuring. Given his history as a spy, she assumes he's probably doing something like that here, another thing he can't talk about and has to hide away. Ringer wonders if he enjoys his secrets more than he lets on. Why else would someone place themselves in the same position? It's a question she poses to herself as much as one she applies to him.

He looks a little like shit compared to his normal self, but she gets the feeling that's another thing he doesn't want to talk about. Like his relationship to Whiskey. Like his relationship to Juliett. Like everything else. Ringer wants to ask him to come stay with her, to admit she's falling apart, but how can she when he keeps more secrets than she does. It feels too much like Razor and she's not sure she can deal with another betrayal. In fact, maybe it's time she calls him out on that.]

You have a gift for talking about yourself without admitting to anything.

[He glances up at her, thoughtful for just a brief moment. Then he shrugged. She's right. Generally. But he's told her more than he's told anyone. It's not much in the large scope of things, but to him it means something.]

And you're good at keeping people at arm's length. [and he gives her a look before holding a hand out to her. Like their night in the hospital bed, a moment where she gave in, where he was able to take care of her, to relax for a minute.]

What do we do about it?

[Ringer drops her eyes to his hand, then follows his arm back to look at FDR again. She doesn't move.]

You tell me everything and I let you in. [She shrugs, as if it's obvious. The way she looks away after says that she knows just how unlikely it is to actually happen.]

[That? That's a steep order. And he takes his extended hand to roll through his hair. As he considers what she's demanding from him.]

Some of it isn't my secret to tell, Ringer. [Because he can't explain what Juliett really is to him, what he really does for her. Until just the evening before he only knew his boss as a a figure in full armor. He can't betray her trust when he just got it. He doesn't want to betray anyone's trust.

He so rarely deserves it, but when he does, he's going to cling to it, dammit.] But the ones that are just mine? I'll tell you those. That's the best I can offer.

[She knows it's a tall order. The tallest, really. It's not something she would ever reasonably ask of anyone, because it's too much. She's not that kind of girl. So when he offers, her gaze snaps back to look at him, surprised and a little suspicious that FDR seems so willing to tell her so much so easily.]

Everything involving someone else could be considered their secret. [There's the skepticism. Then the surprise.] It's not an exchange. If you're serious and you really want to try, I will too. But you have to start. I can't-

[Ringer swallows and looks away again.] I can't let you in if I don't trust you.

It is too. [It always is with Ringer. It's always an exchange. A promise not to flirt. Not to make things sexual. To be friends. To answer when she calls. Help her when she needs it.

And it's never enough. She demands more. Always demanding more. And he's not sure why he gives in. He'd walked away from less. He doesn't need someone that wants to turn him inside out and see everything. He doesn't need the negativity. And the seriousness. And the temper tantrums.

So she makes no sense. There's no real reason to any of this. Except that he's seen glimpses of the girl that needs someone. Of the girl that needs a little fun. And he can be that. And he wants to be.]

But this is it. Ringer. I can't constantly keep proving to you that I'm someone you can depend on. At some point you're either going to have to just trust me, or this? This won't ever work.

[She turns to look at him again, listening to what he's saying. Then she shakes her head. He makes it seem like it's all on her, like she's the one making him jump through more and more hoops. For her, the criteria has never changed. He's the one wanting more and more and she's just telling him how to get it. It's only because she knows herself well that she can state the terms so plainly.]

There are different kinds of trust. Like I trusted Poundcake with my life, because he was the second best shot in the squad after me and he never gave any of us a reason to doubt him. But I would never expect to trust an eight-year-old mute with my life story or what makes me weak.

I used to tell Teacup bad thoughts get us killed. I still believe that, even though it's more complicated than either of us would admit to at the time. She was killed because I admitted that she was my weakness. [Ringer searches his face, wondering if he understands what that means. He knows more than anyone how much Teacup meant to her.]

I trust you with my life. I trust you to come when I call- I've already proven that. I trust you to keep your word and to be my friend. I trust you more than anyone else here. You always want more, FDR.

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