[ Hei lets off a slow exhale, wondering how much of this distance between them is hers, how much is his. She'd thought he was dead, mourned him, lived for months and months devoid of anticipation or hope that he'd return. And now he's come back, unlooked-for, and of course she wants to know about his life, so she doesn't feel so confused and uninformed and out of her depth. ]
[ But he senses the fear in his own reticence. He doesn't want, he realizes, to talk about the Enterprise. Wants that time to be as unrecalled and blurry as his days in kindergarten. It hadn't been unpleasant, with Chekov there. But he'd felt, as days passed, like his sanity was bleeding out of him. He hadn't liked the tepid surfaces, the imperfect stillness, the mechanical rumblings, the way the bridge would sing dissonantly around him. Everything seemed the wrong color, warped and glowing, and the odors of the place were sanitized and hellish. He'd felt that way a few times, in hospitals; he'd forgotten just how bad it could get, the cabin-fever that was like an internalized madness. The crew gave him cards for meals, fresh from the food synthesizer, four or fives times a day -- but nothing tastedreal. His stomach snatched at nourishment and always keened for more. Even when gorging on ice creams and bowls brimming with noodles, plump slabs of steak and dripping dumplings, he'd felt like something was missing. Had fantasized in weaker moments about thick breads piled with cheese and beef and fried onions. A stir-fry with everything. ]
[ He rubs her palm slowly with his thumb, before placing it down. The effort is palpable, to be firm but not cruel. ]
It ... didn't suit me as much as being here does. That's all I'll say.
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Date: 2014-12-06 03:34 am (UTC)[ But he senses the fear in his own reticence. He doesn't want, he realizes, to talk about the Enterprise. Wants that time to be as unrecalled and blurry as his days in kindergarten. It hadn't been unpleasant, with Chekov there. But he'd felt, as days passed, like his sanity was bleeding out of him. He hadn't liked the tepid surfaces, the imperfect stillness, the mechanical rumblings, the way the bridge would sing dissonantly around him. Everything seemed the wrong color, warped and glowing, and the odors of the place were sanitized and hellish. He'd felt that way a few times, in hospitals; he'd forgotten just how bad it could get, the cabin-fever that was like an internalized madness. The crew gave him cards for meals, fresh from the food synthesizer, four or fives times a day -- but nothing tastedreal. His stomach snatched at nourishment and always keened for more. Even when gorging on ice creams and bowls brimming with noodles, plump slabs of steak and dripping dumplings, he'd felt like something was missing. Had fantasized in weaker moments about thick breads piled with cheese and beef and fried onions. A stir-fry with everything. ]
[ He rubs her palm slowly with his thumb, before placing it down. The effort is palpable, to be firm but not cruel. ]
It ... didn't suit me as much as being here does. That's all I'll say.