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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.

[There's only a blink at her words. A blankness that's carefully in place to keep his thoughts to himself. He understands weakness. Too well. He's seen what it can do, how it can be used. Hell, he's used it. Though in interrogations it's usually physical weaknesses. Pain. But it's the mental stuff that really gets people to sing.

It's dangerous. Showing people weaknesses. Admitting to them. It's the ultimate trust that it won't be turned against them. But then there are just some things that they just can't hide. She tries. He tries.

But he's told her. He's told her about his Nana, about Tuck. About Joe. And she's told him. The dedication to her team back home.

Maybe that is enough. Maybe they've shared enough. Maybe they're just fine the way they are right now.]

Yeah, So, you want me to quit asking? [It's not dismissive, it's not angry. It's him being thoughtful. For the moment, for now, as he plucks grass from under his fingers. If this is where she wants them? This distance? But he can keep his secrets and she can keep the gap.]

[Ringer remains a steady presence, mostly still and continuously watching him. She's searching his expression, peering into his eyes and through them down into the best she can guess at his thoughts. It's all guesses, but Ringer knows people pretty well and she can guess at what's running through his mind. Her walls are so thick that trying to get through the deepest layer is more effort than it's worth for most people. She knows that.

She also knows that FDR is more persistent than most, that he enjoys a challenge, and especially that he takes pride in achieving things that other people can't. FDR likes her, but he also likes the game and she's not entirely sure how much of his desire to get to know her is one versus the other. She doesn't care, so long as he's trustworthy.]

I won't decide for you. [Ringer's hand moves to an empty space near her shoulder, then falls away when she realizes. It's an automatic habit, to reach for the rifle that should be there, the one she relied on for comfort before this place.] I've already agreed to try. The more I trust you, the more I'll let you in. It's your decision how close you want to be.

[There's a snort. And here she is saying he's got a way of avoiding answering questions. But he'll take that for what he assumes it is. She wants to let someone in. Everyone does. For all his own trust issues, the idea of being able to trust someone as much as he wants to be trusted? That's important. It's kind of a necessity in keeping sane.]

Yeah, fine. But can you sit down? [The hovering above while he sits and talks feels too much like an interrogation. Makes him feel like he's giving up.]

I met Juliett when I first arrived. She bought me a suit. We started sleeping together. She's a good contact. It's because of her that I'm able to get a new house built. [And that's all true, parts he can tell her.]

But I'm not sleeping with her anymore. Because...because there's this thing. With Whiskey. We've kind of been seeing eachother? [And he shakes his head at how uncertain that sounds.] We're dating. And while we figure out what that means I kind of cut off all my other fu-...sex partners.

We've kind of been doing that since...the clones? Yeah, so not all that long. A few weeks. And then during the riots after he got shot and those sniper videos came out, I took some stims so I could stay awake and help hunt them down. And then I took some more when my apartment was destroyed. I couldn't-couldn't sleep in the barracks with a bunch of people I didn't know. [But he's got a feeling Ringer understands that.] So Juliett offered me a condo to stay in so I could sleep. And last night I crashed. Chem-flush. One really strange not-lecture from Whiskey later, and here I am.

[There. That's everything that's going through his head right now. And he gives her a curious look. What is she going to do with that?]

Edited 2015-02-13 14:24 (UTC)

[She scowls at his snort and resists rolling her eyes. Trust FDR to take it like a joke. Ringer's eyes glance about looking for the best seating option, willing to fulfill his request because there's no reason not to. Finding nothing better, she moves forward and takes a seat beside him on the stump, turning to look at him. When her knee bumps his, she moves it away.

The girl is half expecting a lecture when, instead, FDR opens up to her. She watches him with intentional neutrality, though it's clear she's listening and invested in hearing the stories he's telling her. About Juliett, who seems to shroud everyone involved with her in some level of secrecy; about his penchant for having sex with whoever is willing; about Whiskey being the one to break through that - she almost envies him -; about the resorting to drugs and the inevitable crash and his issues with the barracks and it's all way more than Ringer actually expected.

And she knows he hasn't told other people about this, knows that there is a unique trust in their relationship that he doesn't share with a handful of others. Which makes her uncomfortable in a way she won't deny kind of wanting.

Ringer's silent, looking out at the trees around them and taking some time to think. She's never been good at people and even worse at letting them in. If anyone deserves it at this point, it's him, but she's not sure she even knows how to go about it.]

I met Alpha when I accused him of being responsible for Thor's disappearance. We talked about things people don't talk about. He could have had me arrested. Instead, he respected me and helped me. I earned my positions, but I know he'll answer my questions honestly. He's my boss, but he's also a friend. We keep the two separate when it matters. [That lines has been blurring more lately, but they're still careful. Ringer will always treat him as a superior when anyone else is present. Her only concern in that regard is respecting him and that he maintains the respect of his people.]

He reminds me of Razor sometimes. [She admits after a pause, glancing at FDR. Then her gaze moves out again.] Alpha doesn't know about Razor. The partial similarity complicates things, but I'm not into him.

[Another pause. When Ringer speaks again, there's a clear shift in her demeanor. Her speech is extremely slow and deliberate at first, clearly difficult for her to talk about.] When The Others came, they changed everything. I adapted. I made friends, knowing we were doomed, but- [She stops, starts again.] Razor killed Teacup. He shot a child because he knew it was the only way to set me free, to sever the tie between Vosch and me so I didn't have to serve. He died for it. He knew he would. He died to save me.

[A beat.] That's the last thing I remember before waking up here. Teacup and Razor dying so I could continue to fight. I don't know if Zombie's alive, or the rest of the Squad. I have no idea how to get back to them. Worse, I don't know who the enemy is here. I adapted to a society without money, without vanity, without entitlement, without hope. Then I was kidnapped here.

[Ringer allows a pregnant pause to settle in, time for FDR to soak in what she's saying and to read between the lines of everything she's not: how angry she is at being here, how difficult it is for her to function in this society, how afraid she is of anyone she lets in being killed, and all the rest of it.

She finally turns to look at him, tacking on an after thought that she's almost afraid to speak aloud. Ringer feels like she's Going Dorothy all over again.] There's a piece in the back of my mind that wonders: what if Vosch won? What if this is The Others' ship, or where they bring people back to? You could be a manipulation, the same as Razor was.

Edited (typo; also sorry for tldr) 2015-02-13 18:58 (UTC)

[Razor. It's actually the name he knows the least about. But he can still remember their conversation- he had promised her he would- but he remembered Razor. Swimmer. Blond. Thoughtful. Always thinking, she had said. But there was a lot she hadn't told him, painful things she had left out. He hadn't asked. That had been their arrangement, to share memories they wanted to remember. If it wasn't something she wanted to talk about, wasn't something she wanted to remember, then he hadn't bothered trying to hear it.

Now he can understand though. Why he was the last person she listed. Why she had stopped and paused and swallowed when talking about him.

Asshole.

He understood weaknesses. That's what friends and bonds were. But he also knew they were important. As much as they were weaknesses, they were strength. They gave people a reason to keep going. Something to fight for. To protect. And in the really good friendship, they could even help. Like Tuck. Tuck who everyone knew was his best friend, his family, someone he loved unconditionally, his biggest weakness. But also his greatest asset. Because they were a team. They could work together, they watched eachother's back. They made sure they couldn't be used against eachother.

So it made Ringer's story even harder to accept. That someone would shoot a young girl to motivate Ringer to keep going? He didn't know what happened, how the man died, but he partially hoped Ringer was the one that ended it. It was cruel motivation.

But then she grew up in a cruel world. He knew that. He had seen glimpses of it. And she was away from that. She could have something better here, but she was...she had lost a lot in order for her to keep going in her own world. He could understand. To not keep going, to not try to get back and fight, it would make that girl's life, Razor's life, worth nothing. And that wasn't the kind of girl Ringer was. She was all responsibility, all noble intentions, all purpose.

His first instinct is to pull her close. But sometimes these things need to be thought out, cold and calculated without the distraction of a body, sometimes an arm over the shoulder isn't a welcomed feeling. So he gives her her space.]

I guess, you don't know. Not really. But this is kind of a far fetched story for a manipulation, isn't it? I mean, if this is all fake, someone did a really detailed job in making it believable.

[It's an unconscious action, but he starts drumming on his knee with his fingers because he's trying to understand her mentality, and a part of him is sure he gets it. And there's not much he can say, is there?]

I won't die just because you trust me, Ringer. I can take care of myself. I'll protect myself. And I'll protect you. That's what having a partner is. Someone you can trust to watch your back, someone who's back you try to watch, and someone that at the end of the day, you hope can watch their own back some too. So whatever danger comes of it...I'm here for you.

[That's the only thing he can promise, that he can honestly say that doesn't sound like encouraging rattling.]

[Ringer watches FDR. She's pretty sure he doesn't understand the situation with Razor. Of course, she's not sure she doesn't either. He loved her; he betrayed her; he loved her still; he set her free. It's why things with Alpha were complicated. She could feel those emotions lingering. That she still loved Razor meant sometimes she maybe cared too much about her boss, the one who she knew didn't care so strongly for her. They were on the same page so long as she kept those feelings in check, at least.

But she doubts that any of this is worth explaining, that FDR understands enough to feel included without having to admit to such vulnerabilities. It's a selfish choice and she feels like she's failing at opening up as she set out to do, but some around are far too raw.

Ringer's trying. Why FDR is pushing so hard is something she can't understand - what benefit is there to him? But she wants it, she knows that. Some part of her craves and needs it in a way she would never have thought possible before her Squad and before Razor. So she's trying.

She's quiet when he is. After he speaks, she reaches out to set a hand on his drumming fingers, to stop the monotonous noise and help settle him. He likes touch and it doesn't bother her so much to engage in controlled contact. This is hard for both of them.

She doesn't address his remark about this being a trap. Vosch would ensure it was so elaborate, more interested in breaking her mind and spirit than in placating or destroying her. As if Razor wasn't cruel enough of a trap.]

I didn't really have friends before the Arrival. Then I spent almost a year with my Squad, all day every day. Months with Razor. [She pauses, trying to think how to explain.] I don't know how to rely on someone who I only see sporadically. How can I watch your back when I don't know where you are most of the time?

[She could open up more. They both could. But for now? These little steps when they learn bits and pieces of each other are enough. It's like putting a puzzle together, slowly revealing the kind of people they both are.

Maybe the end picture isn't worth seeing. But what he knows now. Well, it helps. Helps him understand why she gets so angry about simple things. Why she demands the things she does. In all reality, she's opened up more than him. And he appreciates it. It's something he's always craved. Information on people, about people. It makes him feel safer in general. Having some sort of understanding about the people around him. About the people he's come to care about it some form or fashion. And Ringer has made that short list, outside Leo, has probably become one of the people he feels most protective over.

So those words, those questions. He understands. Him and Tuck had been inseparable for days. She's used to the same dependent type of relationships. And suddenly he can't help but think that she must be lonely.]

We'll just have to count on each other to do so when the chips are down. You know...you know if you call, I'll come. [And there's a pause as he remembers a bit of her conversation with Alpha.] And I'll answer. And I can...I can expect the same from you. [There hasn't been a reason to ask that of her yet, but he's got a feeling that she would try.

And that's it. That's as far as he'll push today. As far as he'll let her push.]

[Ringer withdraws her hand when FDR has settled. While he craves information and being the one with power in the relationship, she longs only for connection of any sincere kind. It's difficult to make connections with how little she trusts anyone and how bad she is with people in general. Those few who manage to persevere through it are usually the ones worth having. She hopes.

The girl is more lonely than she even recognizes in herself, let alone is willing to admit. Asking for that kind of help or support is something she's never done, never been able to do, and being in this place with more friends than she's used to doesn't make that any easier. FDR imposing himself on her as often as he does is its own kind of caring gesture to her, even though she might not always appreciate it at the time.]

I know. [She agrees.] And I'll do the same.

[A pause.] Thanks.

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