[ Not as completely at odds as she thinks. At least not in Hei's world. Always on the run, always caught up in battles, in a violent struggle for survival, has limited his scope for grieving. In many ways, it's impossible. In his career, there were no funerals for fallen comrades, no burials, no eulogies, no opportunities to sit by himself and reminisce. Just an emptiness that sprung up in the midst of his unstoppable momentum, a void so terrifying and hungry it swallowed him whole. ]
[ The only thing that saved him from being paralyzed by it, being killed, was his rage. A rage that became the superstructure of his entire life, so icy-hot and steely that the sane could barely begin to imagine it. And that rage was only the first step. Then something even harder came, something that could live with the grief, the fury, the limitations. ]
[ Grieving -- uninterrupted, profound -- is a relaxation. A luxury that not every warrior in the field can afford. ]
[ She settles in close, their knees kissing, and Hei can feel the indelible imprint of her warmth, even through the layers of clothes. He shifts, as if he's sliding off his chair, even though he isn't. ]
They wanted to jettison me, actually. [ He was regarded -- at least at first -- as a dangerous barnacle clinging to the ship. The crew were slow to warm up to him, and he to them; mostly he'd stayed out of the way, keeping company with Chekov when the boy was off-duty. ] Their Captain was convinced I was a spy.
no subject
[ The only thing that saved him from being paralyzed by it, being killed, was his rage. A rage that became the superstructure of his entire life, so icy-hot and steely that the sane could barely begin to imagine it. And that rage was only the first step. Then something even harder came, something that could live with the grief, the fury, the limitations. ]
[ Grieving -- uninterrupted, profound -- is a relaxation. A luxury that not every warrior in the field can afford. ]
[ She settles in close, their knees kissing, and Hei can feel the indelible imprint of her warmth, even through the layers of clothes. He shifts, as if he's sliding off his chair, even though he isn't. ]
They wanted to jettison me, actually. [ He was regarded -- at least at first -- as a dangerous barnacle clinging to the ship. The crew were slow to warm up to him, and he to them; mostly he'd stayed out of the way, keeping company with Chekov when the boy was off-duty. ] Their Captain was convinced I was a spy.