empathicfault | IC Inbox

The section before that was a bigger thrall for me. It was empty; blank. Like the helmet, but more. I would have been tempted to actually spend some time there if I hadn't had a mission.

[She takes another bite, almost by rote, but she's clearly distracted.]

Anything I can do next time to help? I could, uh-- I dunno, livestream for you.

[ Will snorts with a laugh, but then stops- and with a small shake of his head: ] Yeah, actually.

It...helped a lot when you started checking in more. I could...also possibly just call you more often. But I didn't want to interrupt a fight just to ease my anxiety.

Trust me, I fight and talk all the time at home; that's a Tuesday for me. Talking and climbing waterfalls might've been harder, but we could've made it work.

[ Will nods, looking slightly sheepish as he does so. ]

In that case...? Yeah. That would be helpful. But I don't think the concern's going to hit again unless we fall outside the Barge's resurrection abilities.

...or Hannibal shows up, but that's sort of a five-alarm fire situation, anyway.

Maybe it won't hit again, but I like contingency plans. Steps we can both take. That, uh--

[She pauses, and Bear paws at her leg, making a faint smile briefly cross her face.]

That's something I'm working on, when I can feel myself not thinking clearly. Or... thinking too much.

["Thinking too much": her way of describing the way her brain will sometimes go into high alert at the slightest provocation, picking apart anything and everything for hidden tells of unreality.]

[ He knows exactly what she might be overthinking about, so he doesn't address it. ]

Contingency plans are good to have. Especially considering how often compromised we are here.

And...I've done the 'livestreaming' thing with Malcolm a couple of times. It helps, when things feel dicey.

Okay. Deal. Because I can't promise to never be in danger again. I--

[The road to the left is straight, wide, clear, and well-lit; the road to the right is narrow and dim, and snarled with brambles and thorns. She hovers, then takes a tentative step down the easy path, not wanting to drag him into the weeds of the hard one when she's not sure how important it is to this particular conversation. If those thorns and brambles belonged to him, she wouldn't hesitate to dive right in, but they don't. These ones are all hers.]

This doesn't have to be a one-and-done, either; we can keep workshopping this. The way you keep associating me with the FBI for some reason or another - I don't think that's a bad thing. It makes things chafe with us, and then it gives us stuff to dig into.

[A pause.]

I don't think you've ever been careless - really careless - in your life. I think both of us have had a lot of experience with circumstances that were way too big for us to control on our own, and we haven't taken to it in the same way.

[ Will nods, thoughtfully, as she mentioned him associating her with the FBI. He doesn't know if that's merely because those were mostly the only people he knew or if there was something else to it, but it warranted thinking about.

Then he looks up and catches her eyes and his head tilts to the side, thoughts swirling in a different direction. He stares down at her hands. ]

Oh, yeah...? What different ways have we taken it?

I surrendered to it. Embraced it, even. The ISA got to use me as an questioning tool, killing people for the greater good, and in exchange I didn't have to deal with any of the messy complexities related to my job. It was a symbiotic relationship that I appreciated.

Well...until they tried to kill you. I imagine.

But yes. I was used as a tool, too. I railed against it- quietly, at first. And then...it really felt like the writing was on the wall, early on. But I tried to trust the system.

[ He doesn't even have words for how badly that failed him, he realizes. ]

Maybe the big difference is that you eventually found a system you could actually trust.

I also never railed, and never had to try to force myself to trust. Falling into line was natural for me. You aren't like that.

I'm not. I'm not a leader, but I'm sure as hell not a follower. Not a soldier.

When I have other people's feelings and motivations in my head, I have to hold onto my autonomy as hard as I can. I have to fight for it or else I'll be subsumed. I learned that before I was even out of elementary school.

I know. It's not my personal experience, but I do get that. And I also get that I'm the biggest parallel to the FBI that this place has. I appreciate that you don't fight me every step of the way here because of that.

Yeah, well-- I made the decision on my own, that I trusted you. It wasn't exactly an easy decision to make, even if I did make it early on.

And while we disagree sometimes, you haven't failed me yet. [ He smiles slightly. ] So welcome to that extremely exclusive club.

You haven't failed me, either.

[She sounds a little discomforted saying that, because it's loaded language - and she knows that's exactly how Jack Crawford would have phrased it, either directly or by implication.]

Even when I've been disappointed or aggravated, I, uh-- I've never thought of it as you failing. But I disagree that I haven't failed you. I'm not letting myself off the hook for that sword curse thing.

Not when you were literally cursed?

[ Will raises his eyebrows, but there's a small smile on his lips. ]

You were- and are- dealing with trauma. I know that doesn't excuse everything, but consider that it's hard to know how that'll manifest in you, with how you interpret emotions. You have to navigate a lot of it alone.

Yeah. You're not wrong.

But the second I start using that as an excuse to not do right by you, I've failed you even more. I came here to do a job, and you didn't sign up for a defective warden.

[ He looks down. He rolls his tongue over his teeth, indicating some deeper thought. ]

So...in that case, the best thing you can do is to keep working on processing that trauma, right?

Mmm. I'm still working with Sheehan, even though he's quitting the counseling office.

[ Will nods. ]

Glad he's not giving all of it up. You gonna try art therapy at all?

[The absolutely befuddled look that she gives him is probably answer enough, but--]

Art therapy? Me?

[ Will grins, briefly. He knows. But still... ]

Hey, it could get you more in touch with your emotions. Or you could find sketching objects relaxing. You never know. I didn't think it'd do anything for me, either. And now...

[ Well, he won't go into it, but they've both seen his cabin (and the wealth of paints in it) lately. ]

[Yeah, that skeptical look isn't fading; sorry, Will.]

I can't picture it. I was never any good at art class when I was a kid - none of my stuff ever came out looking like it was supposed to.

It's not about being good with it. It's more about engaging a different sense than you usually use, while you're processing feelings. Or in your case, maybe teasing out their meaning. The more you engage it, the easier it is to look at topics you have difficulty engaging with, using different perspectives.

So I could see it either being really helpful for you or doing absolutely nothing at all, with no in-between.

[ He doesn't really have a horse in this race. He's just musing, honestly. ]

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