[ A smile, a bit of a sheepish one. It's a good way to break a bit of the tension, from before, and he can tell York is anxious. Wash is tense, too, and he gives him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder before he drops his hand, gesturing with a tip of his head as he moves towards some tables and chairs off to one side of the room. They should probably sit down, for this. ]
We're about five years apart, at least. [ Pulling up a chair for York before he draws one up for himself on the same side of the table, seating himself down. ] There's -- a lot that's happened, since then. A lot that's happened since you left.
[ A heavy exhale, with a bit of a tremor to it, resting one hand on the table. He's not quite meeting York's eye. He trusts York, he really does, completely and truly, but all this is just difficult to talk about, even so many years later, and there's things that York should know that he just. Doesn't know how to tell him. Not in a way that's -- graceful. Delicate.
Not in a way that won't hurt him. ]
It's a damned good thing you got out when you did. [ Wash starts of there, looking back up at York with a tired smile, trying to bring in some humor, some levity to start things off with. Break the ice, make it easier. ] If I could, I would've --
[ He would've been there. If he could, he would've been there, when everything was going to hell, when the breakout was happening, if he could he would've been there, too. He knew more than anyone else what was happening, what was really behind it all, and if he'd just been stronger if he hadn't been contained for his own safety if he'd fought it back, he would've been able to help them, would've been able to be a part of it instead of just watching and listening to his friends, his brothers, his sisters, watching them tear themselves apart while he did nothing --
A sharp breath. His fingers tense against the table. So much for levity. This was -- going to be harder than he imagined. ]
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[ A smile, a bit of a sheepish one. It's a good way to break a bit of the tension, from before, and he can tell York is anxious. Wash is tense, too, and he gives him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder before he drops his hand, gesturing with a tip of his head as he moves towards some tables and chairs off to one side of the room. They should probably sit down, for this. ]
We're about five years apart, at least. [ Pulling up a chair for York before he draws one up for himself on the same side of the table, seating himself down. ] There's -- a lot that's happened, since then. A lot that's happened since you left.
[ A heavy exhale, with a bit of a tremor to it, resting one hand on the table. He's not quite meeting York's eye. He trusts York, he really does, completely and truly, but all this is just difficult to talk about, even so many years later, and there's things that York should know that he just. Doesn't know how to tell him. Not in a way that's -- graceful. Delicate.
Not in a way that won't hurt him. ]
It's a damned good thing you got out when you did. [ Wash starts of there, looking back up at York with a tired smile, trying to bring in some humor, some levity to start things off with. Break the ice, make it easier. ] If I could, I would've --
[ He would've been there. If he could, he would've been there, when everything was going to hell, when the breakout was happening, if he could he would've been there, too. He knew more than anyone else what was happening, what was really behind it all, and if he'd just been stronger if he hadn't been contained for his own safety if he'd fought it back, he would've been able to help them, would've been able to be a part of it instead of just watching and listening to his friends, his brothers, his sisters, watching them tear themselves apart while he did nothing --
A sharp breath. His fingers tense against the table. So much for levity. This was -- going to be harder than he imagined. ]
-- I would've been with you, if I could.