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[lifetothefullest]

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[notathreat]

[Ellie glances up, returns the smile and shrugs slightly.]

I still think you're right. But I think that we all kinda start out that way. We just... reach a breaking point, I think. When you just can't do it anymore. Or maybe you can't do it the same way.

Like-

I don't know, Lance. Everybody was really fucked up, coming back from the Aerie. Hating who they were. Who they had to be. What happened to them.

[Ellie pauses again, then reaches up to rub at the fingers that aren't real, the seam between robotics and skin, where all of her scars stop.]

I came back and-

That place at its worst was better than anything I'd ever had, by light years. I was better. A lot better.

[lifetothefullest]

[Lance had hoped Ellie might feel like she could open up a little, but he hadn't really expected her to and so it's a surprise--a good surprise--when she starts talking. He's quiet as she does so, watching her enough to show that he's paying attention, but still trying not to make her feel scrutinized and allowing his gaze to drop when he nods at some of her words.

There are multiple facets to what she's said, multiple ways to interpret her words and multiple issues that seem to be underlying them. He doesn't know her well enough yet to be completely sure of which to approach first, or exactly how to do so, but intuition gives him a place to start and he does his best from there.]

I think that sometimes there's a misunderstanding of what optimism looks like, because it's seen through the lens of an 'average' person. For them, optimism might mean believing the best will happen, or that they'll get something they desire or things will fall into place just as they want them to.

But for a person who's had to fight every day just to survive, something that others might see as a given--choosing to trust someone, hoping that they get through a day without being hurt, even just convincing themselves there's something worth getting out of bed for--is just as optimistic as believing the best will happen.

[He isn't arguing with her assessment about there being a breaking point, at least not exactly. But there's a subtle value in reframing things, in not looking at them in terms of a 'normal' person versus a 'broken' one, with 'normal' being the default. Both are just people, and neither are so firmly set into their categories as many are often led to believe.

Although he's been watching the river as he spoke, he turns his attention back to Ellie again, no longer talking in vague terms but in direct ones.]

Who you you were in the Aerie isn't better than who you are now. Maybe there are things about that version of you that you liked more, and that's okay, but there's nothing wrong with who you are here. Especially not when you consider what you've had to face just to make it this far.

[notathreat]

[The way that Lance frames things seems generous towards her, assuming quite a bit of good faith, optimistic. It isn't that she feels that he doesn't understand, or even that he's wrong. She can objectively see how he's correct. Even when it comes to her, and her actions.

What she doesn't believe in or trust is herself, and her own judgment, because it's been so skewed for so long. But she doesn't know how to begin to explain that.]

There's having fucked up things happen to you, and then there's... becoming the fucked up things that happen to other people, and not knowing how to not be?

[It sounds stupid when she says it, but Ellie doesn't know anything about the cycle of violence, or the patterns of trauma that repeat through families. All she knows are the things she's seen and experienced.]

[lifetothefullest]

Caring is the first part of that, and you're already there.

[It doesn't sound stupid, and not just because he's a psychologist who does know how all of this works, but because he's had to live it. He had the chance to start working on all of this much earlier than she did, but it was still a long and difficult process.]

No one reacts in exactly the same way to the things that happen to them, and I'm sure you know that, but I'm saying it because those differences mean that who you become--or avoid becoming--depends on who you are, and how what's happened in your life affects you.

[He doesn't want to get too professional about this, because he's definitely not giving her professional advice, he just isn't totally sure how else to put it. It's a weird line to find, and he's not sure how successful he's being, but he's trying.]

It can be really hard to figure that out alone, but at the same time you're the person who knows yourself best. Therefore it's a balancing act of trusting someone else, but also trusting yourself, and success doesn't happen in days or weeks or even months, sometimes. But it's something you can do, especially if you're able to ask for help as you go through it.

[notathreat]

[Ellie falls silent again, chewing over his words, and worrying her thumb over the stone again. It has her skin feeling raw, and she stares down at it, lets it roll to settle into the palm of her hand.

She looks slowly from the stone she's holding down to the small, neatly stacked pile that Lance has completed between them. She can feel her pulse in her fingertips, and she swallows down a lump in her throat.

Ellie reaches out and adds the stone to it, balancing it there.

Silence falls again between them, something tenuous on the back of her tongue.]

You're a criminal profiler, right?

[lifetothefullest]

[He watches her balance the rock, careful not to disturb it, letting it perch there on top. The question she asks isn't one he would've predicted, though he has some idea of where it might be going.]

Yeah. Or was, anyway.

[notathreat]

[Ellie's lips twitch as if she wants to smile but can't quite muster it. The things people were carry through with them, even through the technicalities. She pauses again, trying to figure out how to frame the question that she wants to ask.

It's messier than she thought, and in trying to think of the question, it frames things out for her. Some of the questions are too horrible to ask, and she's not sure she wants the answers.

She starts and stops.]

... what did you think, when you met me?

[lifetothefullest]

[He's quiet as she chooses her words, distracting himself by looking for a piece of grass that will work as a very annoying whistle. He'll save actually being that obnoxious for after the conversation, though, when something to lighten the mood might be appreciated.

When Ellie does finally choose her question, Lance returns his attention to her.]

I thought you were someone who had been through a lot.

[He could say more, but he's not sure just yet if she'd actually want to hear it; people don't always want to be read, even when they ask to be, and that may not really be the point of this question anyway.]

[notathreat]

[It's accurate, and it feels like a safe answer. It's easy to tell that even by looking at her skin, her scars. The way she holds herself. But it hadn't fully been what she'd been asking.

Ellie pulls her legs up a bit, hooks her hands under her knees, and looks out at the water.]

That's a safe guess for almost everybody here.

[She turns, resting her temple on her knee, looking at Lance.]

You are, too. Someone who's been through a lot.

[It's flat, when she says it. Just an observation. And maybe it's callous, laying it out so plainly, letting him know the extent of what she's picked up about him. For Ellie, being seen is hard, and for Lance, it's being heard.]

There's stuff that you can train somebody how to do, and then there's stuff that you just get. Because you've been there.

[lifetothefullest]

[He'd known that he wasn't being particularly subtle. Part of the reason, aside from the ethics of offering counseling, that he'd maintained so much professional distance in Hadriel is that it gave him something to hide behind; it had worked at home, too, at least for his friends who didn't know any better. He could project a particular image, and control what made it through that image, when he could stay a step removed from his words and actions.

It's been a risk, here, to allow that to drop. For the most part, that risk hasn't been worth it; there have been so many experiences that have reignited that little voice that tells him how he knows better than this, that he should've expected things to go badly, and he has no one to blame but himself.

But there have been parts that have been worth it. One of those is just not having to hide so much all the time, and because of that, he can talk to people more genuinely. That's what he's allowed to happen here, and so he'd known the risk in that was that she might notice he's speaking from experience, but that risk feels worth it if it means she might believe in what he's saying.

So he lets out a long, quiet sigh, though he still manages a faint smile when he looks back at her and echoes her words from earlier--]

Am I that obvious?

[But it's a joke, entirely rhetorical, and he soon continues more seriously.]

It's different, for everyone; what they've been through, how they've dealt with it, what's best for them in moving forward. But there's always a way forward, no matter how impossible it might be to see it from where you are.

[And he's allowing, with that statement and hers before it, for it to be clear that he isn't saying that just because he's observed others go through it.]

[notathreat]

[Lance's callback earns a snort of something that edges on laughter, a little bit of a light in her eyes. Talking it out with him is- different. Somehow. It's the most comfortable she's been during a conversation like this. She doesn't feel like she's going to crack down the middle.

It feels more like a Lance thing than a therapist thing, but what does she know?]

Only if you know what to look for.

[That much is devastatingly true.]

... you really think that? That there's a way forward for everybody?

[lifetothefullest]

[At her response he gives a faint hint of a laugh himself, more just a breath, but there's a small smile to go with it. At her questions he nods, gaze going distant for a moment before he turns his attention toward her again.]

If they want to take to take it, yes. It can be really difficult, and they might not be able to find it alone, but it's there.

[notathreat]

[Ellie sobers as she looks at him, at that distance in his eyes. She doesn't know him, really know him, to be able to put a pin in it. To fully understand what put it there. But like she said to Lance earlier, there's some things you just get, because you've been there.

She gets it.

Ellie watches him, letting herself ache. She wants to say no, there's things that are unforgiveable. There's things that are too awful to ever come back from. That she knows just how terrible a human being can be. It's something she wants to believe, but it comes with terrifying implications.]

I don't know what's more fucked up.

[Her voice is soft, almost young. A little lost.]

Believing in that, or not believing in it.

[lifetothefullest]

[He's quiet at that response for a few moments, allowing it to hang between them as he decides how he wants to reply. He isn't, of course, sure of the reason--or reasons--for her hesitation, but that there's something keeping her from believing in the possibility is incredibly clear.

And so, after the short silence, he beings quietly--]

There was a case we had, a few years ago. A girl--I think she was sixteen or so--was the only witness to a murder, and was suspected of being the killer. She was Deaf, and so until a child advocate who knew sign language was found, it was difficult to communicate with her; all we knew was that she was traumatized and afraid of everyone, and because of that she wouldn't cooperate in the investigation.

[And that had been completely understandable. Lance remembers how angry he and Brennan had gotten with each other over this case and how Brennan was approaching it, both of them relating too personally to different aspects of it to be able to stay objective.]

We eventually found out that her name was Amy, and she had been running away from an abusive home. The murder had actually been self defense; Amy's parents had sent the man after her, and she'd stabbed him to protect herself. To make things worse, Amy's 'parents' had actually kidnapped her when she was little; her real name was Samantha.

[He sighs quietly; this story is a mess, and so many parts of it are difficult to think about both due to empathy for Samantha and because of experiences of his own. But there's a point here, and he's getting to it.]

We were able to reunite Samantha with her parents, who had never given up looking for her, and in only a few days a situation she never thought she'd escape turned into a new life. Although she had killed someone, and she carried that guilt with her, she'd just been doing what she had to do.

[And although he doesn't know Ellie's story, he has a feeling there may be some similarities in what she might've experienced.]

[notathreat]

[Ellie is silent as she listens, and a little while after, looking out at the water trickling by into white noise. It feels strange, alien, to listen to that story, and it takes her a bit of thinking on it to figure out why it makes her so uncomfortable.

She picks at her fingers, stops again when she realizes that she wants to pry off the prosthetics. That's not helping.]

Back in my world, the only people I knew who hadn't killed somebody were kids. And even some of them had to, when there was nobody else to pick up the gun.

[It's a fact of life, for her. She doesn't say it with a cast of horror, but she also doesn't look at Lance's face.]

Everyone understands self defense, because everyone's been there. Probably a lot of times.

Me, I haven't kept count.

[Ellie shrugs, just a small movement of her shoulders.]

That's... not the stuff that bothers me, though. Or maybe it bothers me because it doesn't bother me anymore.

[lifetothefullest]

[Her response gives him more insight into her situation, the scale of it, how it affects not just her but the society she's a part of. So with that information filed away, he quietly thinks over her words, deciding which part to address first.]

People are very adaptable.

[He says it quietly, and it's something she surely already knows, but--]

It's natural to become desensitized, even when you feel like you shouldn't be, and that isn't a moral failing.

[He decides not to add just yet that it's also common not to actually be desensitized, but to have compartmentalized so strongly that the end result is similar, but due to repressing the response rather than no longer feeling it.]

But aside from that, what does bother you?

[Because even with the allowance that she might be bothered by the lack of feeling about it, it seems like there was another issue on her mind entirely.]

[notathreat]

[Ellie just keeps dancing around it, wanting to tell him, but dreading it too. Lance has done everything to make her comfortable, to assure her that he will understand whatever it is. But there's a difference between telling him, and telling Nathan.

She's... appreciated being close to him. She doesn't want that to change. But either he finds out from her, or at some point, he's going to end up in his head, or get a flash of something she'll have to explain. At some point, he'll probably watch her fight, or kill. And he'll see how easily she does it. It feels inevitable.

It helps, that he calls her out on it. Pinning her down so gently that it doesn't feel like she's trapped.

Lance makes it her choice, gives her the power here, and it sucks. She works her jaw, looks out at the river.]

Because it wasn't all self defense.

Because I'm the kind of person that you'd be hunting down, back home.

[lifetothefullest]

[The admission isn't entirely surprising; if he'd had to guess about what was bothering her instead of being able to just ask her, that would've been one of his top choices. So he doesn't visibly react much, just nodding once, before asking one of the obvious follow-up questions.]

What was the reason?

[Because he may be law enforcement, and he may have an incredibly strong personal moral system, but he's also not someone who thinks in black and white. Especially not when it comes to another world, a different society, and a completely different set of rules and understandings and choices that have to be made. ]

[notathreat]

[Ellie runs her tongue along her lower lip, bites down on it, releases it. This part always makes her stomach turn over. Where to begin? What's important? How to explain? It seems completely impossible. Insurmountable.

What was it, really? The core of it? She tries to ignore the itching in her skin, but the details spin out endlessly, overwhelming.]

You remember, in the Aerie, back when I had my turn in the Quarry? There was a man in there with me, named Joel?

[lifetothefullest]

[He's in no rush, and will wait as long as she needs to decide how to start. That she's willing to explain at all is a major thing in itself.]

Sort of, yeah. I remember what you told me here, too.

[About Joel's arrival, and that he was dead. That she was there when it happened.]

[notathreat]

[So much, packed into so little.]

Yeah. The Aerie thing was close to what actually happened. But it was from when I was fourteen, to when I was nineteen. And he was all I had, for a long time.

[Ellie glances down at her nails, at the scars on her hands. When she says the words, it's like she's forcing them out. Detaching herself from them, even if that's impossible.]

A group hunted him down, and tortured him to death.

[I was there, she'd told Lance. When it happened. She doesn't bother pointing that out a second time, and doesn't bother saying what they did to her.]

[lifetothefullest]

[What she says it horrifying, but unfortunately not too surprising either. From what she'd described of her world, and from what he knows of her, this makes a very sad sort of sense.]

I'm sorry you had to go through that.

[Seeing what happened to Joel, and then whatever occurred beyond that. He won't mention the latter unless she wants to explain, and instead asks generally--]

What happened then?

[The question is more 'what did you do?' than anything else, but he doesn't want to put it that way; it's too accusatory, and he doesn't mean it like that. This just must tie in with what she said earlier, about it not being self-defense, and he'd rather let her explain than make guesses.]

[notathreat]

[Ellie shrugs, not to shrug off Lance's sympathy so much as... well, she doesn't know. She doesn't know how to accept it. It happened. It's not something that she can forget.

She's alluded to what happened after, and Lance can probably put it together, but it's more than that. She has to walk through it in her head, pull at the tangled threads of it. Not to pick at a wound, but to make sense of it.]

... Joel's brother Tommy was there too. He... tried. To talk me out of it. Kept watching me while we healed up, and after the funeral.

[Guilt aches across her chest, catches in her throat.]

I told him that if it had been us, Joel would have been halfway to Seattle by then. Chasing after them. That I was going whether he helped me or not. He begged me for just one more day, and he took off that night.

[Ellie grimaces. She's never told this part of the story- not to anyone. That Tommy wouldn't have left, if she hadn't thrown it in his face. If she hadn't turned her rage and grief on him. She may not have blamed him for it outright, but Tommy had been there, and he blamed himself.]

I don't know if he thought I wouldn't find a way to fucking go after him, or what.

[lifetothefullest]

[This is coming together more and more, though he's trying not to make any judgements either way until he has the whole story. So he just nods, listening, and he has a lot of questions but this isn't the time to ask them. Instead, he just offers--]

Those are understandable feelings to have. As for Tommy, he probably knew what you'd do, but hoped he'd have enough of a head start to be done with everything by the time you caught up to him.

[He's guessing, with very little information about Tommy, but the way she's talking about him this seems like the likely explanation.]

[notathreat]

Maybe. Maybe he thought we'd be slowed down because we'd have to steal guns and a horse, or go on foot. Maybe he thought Maria actually would chain me up, like he asked.

[It's a grim sort of humor, but Ellie doesn't bother trying to smile. She's being completely serious about that part.]

We were only a day or two behind him, and they had a good start on all of us. We kept finding the places he'd camped... and there were eight of the fuckers to deal with.