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[darkov]

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latest status update 3/6/2018

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[darkov]

[even if sat down to think about it properly, Martin would never be able to explain how he can exist in two incongruent states like this, both recoiling from any shred of kindness but also so terribly desperate for it as to have no idea what to do with it when it's gotten. there's too much deeply groomed in him from the lifetime of paradoxes -- where being raised in a family unit also meant being promptly separated from members drawn too close. the pack unity was vital to survive...but deep bonds of familial love were often deemed a dangerous red flag for stability out in the field.

after all, a heart starved can still strive and claw forward in hopes of more, but how can a good weapon function when its heart's been broken?

Martin's mouth opens and closes wordlessly, at a loss for what to say. and isn't saying something at all what's made such a mess in the first place? he shouldn't have said so. Rex is only unhappy because he spoke up.

the weight on his shoulders is heavy, but not heavy enough. he should just push him into the ground, way underground. leave him there.

unpleasant pieces of him sure are vindicated by the hard-to-look-at expression drawn on Rex's face. see? this is what happens. he knew he'd mess up, but still wishes he didn't.]

I'm sorry. [it's a little croak, forced out past a tight knot in his throat.] I don't know. I-I'm sorry. I didn't think. About. A-anything, I don't know.

[ct_7567]

Sounds to me like you thought too much.

[ It's a difficult thing to comprehend. All his life, Rex has only had one purpose in life. It's a purpose he's good at. It's a purpose he likes. It's simple, settling down in the life of a soldier, and to be a good soldier is all he's ever strived for, all he's ever wanted. To find happiness in anything other than his duty and those he was expected to fight beside almost feels like a betrayal of everything he's stood for up until this point. To be able to conceive of any other kind of life feels as though it's only mere steps away from treason.

And his first month here, not so long ago, it didn't feel as though this was a place he would ever be able to find any measure of contentment in, everything so distant, so strange, torn from everything he's ever held dear. In many ways, that truth has held. He is a stranger here in a foreign land, grasping at the familiar, struggling to do what he thinks is right. But he knows with as much certainty as he knows his duty that he's happy here. The focus of his life had once been so large, spanning the galaxy and planets and millions of lives, all working as a single machine to something greater. Here, the axis on which his life rests has honed in on just a scant few individuals, though with as much intensity as ever.

It has been honed in on Martin who, despite their many trials, makes him happy. He loves Martin as dearly as he's loved anyone. Looking down at his miserable face now, feeling the knot in his gut grow at the idea of Martin fleeing from them, he's not sure how he ever managed to deny that much, even to himself. His hands slide down from Martin's shoulders to his upper arms, unsure as to how to communicate Martin's importance to him, unsure whether or not he should. ]

If you were to leave like that, I would stop at nothing until I found you again. I don't want you doing this again, Martin. Not now, not ever. [ He's silent for a moment, searching for the right words. ]

I want you living with me. Not out of obligation, nor out of duty. Because you are wanted, by more than just me.

[ He told Ahsoka, once, not to get attached to him. His life will be a short, fleeting thing and if it's not cut short by violence, it will be cut short through his accelerated aging. A part of him knows that he is not doing right by Martin by allowing him such attachments. Another part of him doesn't care. ]

Do you want to come back?

[darkov]

[what is he supposed to do about this? in Olvoski, being housed and protected was an obligation -- a part of a job for a greater cause, an effort to keep monsters at bay and the number of weapons high. being cared for was a burden -- for his father, who died for it; for his mother, who lost Peter for it; for his sister, who lost them both for it. the others, too, in other ways...Alex, losing the safety net Peter had been...that was all on Martin -- he ruined all that. what good did caring for him do?

Rex stands to get nothing good out of looking after him. after all, what's happened since? attacks, break-ins, a death? he swung a door on his head once. he blasted his gut-problems out to an entire network of strangers. he wound up getting him roped into becoming temporary youth league soccer referee, just out of bumbling.

the bad things blind Martin to a lot of the quiet and good there is, because any of that good? his heart convinces him that it's all secret and stolen. feeling safe is just a consequence of being in the way, and being praised only the result of not bumbling too much for a moment. it's all been at Rex's expense -- this person who never needed to look out for him at all; he could've just let him get plowed over by that truck that night.

instead, he says Martin has value, and that he want him to stay. to not ever try and vanish. those are the kinds of things he's desperate to hear and believe, because as sad as he may be? he still wants to be wanted.

Peter wanted him. he'd said so. Darkovs don't lie.

Rex doesn't lie either, does he?]

Yes, sir. [he gulps, his expression tormented by the effort it's taking to not crumble into tears.] Yes, please. Sir.

[ct_7567]

Right. Then it's settled.

[ Rex looks at the crumpled, awful expression on Martin's face, and he raises one hand to cup the back of his neck, heel of his hand resting along Martin's jawline, before he finally lets his hands fall back to his sides. He'd spent all day hiking to get here but that hardly means anything to someone like Rex. He's used to these sorts of treks lasting entire days, weeks if he's unlucky, and a single day's work is hardly worth mentioning.

Somehow, he feels exhausted anyway. Maybe they don't give civvies enough credit. This is so much more difficult than he had expected it to be. ]

I'll speak with Akira. We leave first thing tomorrow.

[ Which would be a lovely way to end things if not for one extra tidbit - minutes later, Rex suddenly sits up straight, halfway through a ration, and swears. ]

I forgot to feed the kriffing fish.