lifetothefullest | [IC Inbox]

If choosing to enlist meant that one was immune to the effects of what might happen to them, I wouldn't have a job.

[Or well, he would, but most likely it wouldn't be at the FBI. And the sorts of situations that agents--and those in the military--face are serious, but they don't seem to have the elements that he's heard Maketh and Hux describe as being normal.]

Do you remember what we spoke about when we had our session?

[About survival mechanisms.]

[He keeps talking. Maketh shivers. She doesn't--

Stop that. You promised.]

Yes. Why?

Coping mechanisms only form when they're needed. Acknowledging that there is a reason for them, and what that reason is, is essential to changing how you choose to react to situations which, if I understood correctly, is something you want to do.

[The question is more whether she's willing to put in the effort to do so, of if she'd rather keep falling back on what's easier.]

[Maketh hunches her shoulders. She hates this, feeling cornered. Stirring things up that she's already buried. But she promised, she gave Emily and Henry her word that she would try, and--

And this is part of it.

She shivers hard.]

I have to talk about it?

You don't have to do anything.

[Again, choices.

And he's not entirely sure this is the best place for continuing this conversation, either, but he's hesitant to set up another formal session. She has definitely not convinced him that it's safe to do so, and he has to draw hard boundaries in dealing with situations like this or he'll do exactly the same thing he's telling her not to regarding old patterns.]

[What I want is irrelevant.

She almost says it. The words are there. She's said them before.

Maketh watches Sweets for a long moment.]

I want to be better.

[She's not sure that's possible.]

[He's quiet for another several seconds, staring at her intently in return, searching for any trace of whether she's lying. He doesn't think so, but she doesn't have to be lying in order to not be being truthful.]

You have to be certain you truly mean that.

[And he's not agreeing to anything yet either.]

What I want has not--mattered overly much. In the past.

[It's said quite simply.]

I gave my word. To people who matter.

[It's all she has, really.]

Maybe that is not enough. Wanting a thing does not make it so.

[The is exactly the opposite of an encouraging answer, and Lance is tempted to end the conversation there. She's not getting it.

But he'll try just a little more, because it would be wrong to give up on her so easily.]

In this circumstance, what you want is the most important thing of all. It's up to you to decide whether you want to be a better person more than you want to do whatever seems most appealing at the time, and whatever is most familiar. You can't truly change just for other people, no matter how much you care about them.

[So doing this because she gave her word is not good enough.]

[Then, perhaps, it's too late to change herself. It's something that Maketh has suspected for a long time, that she's still too much of an Imperial to ever be anything else. The Empire no longer has a use for her, but the protocols remain. And loving someone as much as she loves Emily and Henry cannot change that.

Perhaps that's always been true.

Maketh closes her eyes. She's tired again.]

Your honesty is appreciated, Doctor Sweets.

Of course.

[He can feel the sense of resignation, and again it isn't a good sign. As much empathy as he feels, and as much as he wants to help her, this is past the point where he would've referred her to someone else if they were back in his world, and not having that option here makes everything more complicated.

He doesn't want to just give up on her, and leave her to deal with things on her own; it won't be good for her, or for anyone else. But despite how selfish and guilty he feels, he can't put himself at risk of serious physical or emotional harm like he had when he'd gone to speak with her at her apartment. And, considering she hasn't mentioned the incident once, he doesn't have any reason to think she regrets it enough for it not to happen again.

He hates having to say this, and he feels so guilty he's almost nauseous over it, but it isn't wrong to put his well-being first. It's one of those things he's had to learn logically, because he can't always remember and feel it emotionally.]

I don't think we should continue meeting, at least for the foreseeable future.

[His voice is calm, but almost eerily so, and his expression is very blank; he can't do this without withdrawing emotionally.]

You can still call me, whether in an emergency or if you need advice on a specific situation, but we'll speak over the phones.

[It's as much of a compromise as he can offer.]

I understand.

[She expected this. Truthfully she's been expecting it since the start. The only real surprise is that it took this long to play out. And why not? She's only insulted and threatened him since the beginning. Not so long ago she threw a knife at him. Called him weak.

It would have been easier if he'd just hit her in retaliation. That would be simple. And, perversely, Maketh thinks it would have hurt less.

She opens her eyes but doesn't look at him. No point.]

Is that all?

Unless you have anything else you'd like to say.

[But if not, he'll go back home and resume doing his best not to leave his apartment ever again.]

[Maketh watches him for a moment. Then:]

I am sorry. That is a thing you say in your word, yes? I could have hurt you.

[Could have killed him, truthfully. There's no avoiding that. Maketh rubs her face with a sigh. She's so tired.]

Apologies are--confusing. What does it matter if you mean it or not? They don't change anything.

[She is sorry, but doubts that means much to Sweets. Why would it?]

But you were fair to me and I was not.

I appreciate it.

[He means it, but not a lot at this point; the apology would've mattered a lot more if it'd been earlier in the conversation, instead of an afterthought with convenient timing.

He could leave it at that, but he feels like something she says is important to address before he does.]

Whether you mean it matters because it speaks to your intent. It's far easier to forgive someone for something they regret and you can feel confident they won't repeat.

[Which is not the case here, as far as he's concerned. Sure, she might feel bad--he can't quite tell even that, though--but not enough that he doesn't think she'd go right back to threats in the next volatile situation.]

I don't understand.

[She shakes her head a little.]

It doesn't matter. You should learn how to fight. Or move like you do. Get one of the Guards to teach you. Henry is good.

[Some part of him know she doesn't mean it how it comes out, but he's been struggling the entire conversation--and much longer than that--to keep a grip on and control over how stressed and upset he is and those comments just cause something to snap.

His eyes flash and darken, and although his voice doesn't raise the edge is clear in his tone.]

This isn't my fault.

[Whether he can fight or not--which he can, just not as well as some people and he tries to avoid resorting to it--doesn't have any bearing on what they're talking about. He's certainly not about to accept any insinuation that being unable to defend himself means it's okay to take advantage of that.]

[Oh. He's angry now.

Maketh tips her head to the side. She said the wrong thing again. She's not sure what it was. Suggesting Henry? Or that he ought to learn how to fight in the first place?]

I don't want you to die.

That's an incongruent sentiment coming from someone who threw a knife at me.

[This time his tone is cold; although he's definitely still angry he's rapidly regaining control of his temper, just not quickly enough to decide to stop speaking with her yet.]

[That is also true. Maketh shrugs.]

Ikagura is good as well.

[Lance suddenly feels a lot less guilty about refusing to meet with her any longer; sure, it won't be too long before he feels just as bad once again, but for now it's as if every emotion he has related to this conversation has simply shut off. That's typically not a good sign for his mental health, but he'll worry about that later when he's alone again.

He stares at her for a few more seconds and then just turns to leave without another word.]

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