"It's fine, I'm used to running on empty," she replies, easy. Rules for me and rules for thee. She lets him pull her in; it feels good for a moment to just lean into him, a hand falling over his. "It's the rest of these idiots I'll have to keep an eye on, burning through all their reserves."
He rubs her shoulder a little, then pulls away so they can go on ahead to
the Enclosure. "Startin' to act like you're their mama. Takin' care of your
brood."
"Oh please," she replies, crossing the room to pick up her bag and cram a few things into it. A beer, a can of beans, two spoons. "They're just lucky it's the one thing I have a mess of experience with, and if they want to act stupid about it, it's their lesson to learn."
God knows she did. But it does feel nice, knowing it won't be as hard of a lesson. Here, they've had warning.
"People here don't like to listen to others, but it's not easy to hear you
might be runnin' outta food soon. Hell, I'm listening - ain't got any place
to hunt or forage or anything."
"We're low on options," she agrees. The Enclosure won't do shit when it vanishes from your belly; she has to push away the mental image of herself eating food that won't make a difference just for the sake of fulfilling some animal need. Unsettling. "Hopefully people keep it together just long enough to make it to port. Otherwise..."
He looks at her as they walk, a small, proud smile showing through. "Is
that right? They ain't wrong. You been takin' care of people. Helpin' out.
Ain't you?"
Anyone can do that, she could say, and she’s tempted to, but that gets filed away too. It’s not the point.
“Yeah,” she replies, favouring it. “It just feels so undramatic. In movies there’s always this big moment, people swear they’re going to be different, like it’s this big life and death thing. I’m just waiting for everything to explode in my face.”
See where she comes out in the wreckage. That’s been her whole life, anyway.
This feels like a big conversation to be having, but Arthur is nothing if
not calm. He can look outwardly relaxed while being aware that this might
be a moment - like so many that they've had.
"I don't know that I did, until the Admiral came and asked me to join up.
What would explode in your face?"
"So did I - and a lot of the heinous shit I did, I did just because I
didn't care enough. But I started to care."
He shrugs, and takes the few steps down to the Enclosure's door. "Weren't a
big moment for me. But sometimes I had a choice between stealing or giving,
and I started to choose giving. I started to see that it was a
choice, most of the time."
"I don't reckon he thinks I'm gonna do everything right after I get back,"
he says, before holding up a finger - he needs to set the scene. He picks a
favorite of theirs, the plains of New Hanover, the strange, jutting rocks
creating enough interest that it's not just an endless plain. The horses
are waiting for them when he opens the door.
"You think every warden makes every decision the right way, all the time?
You think I do that, now?"
Fresh air. The world may still be bigger and more open than she likes, but the smell of fresh air still feels wonderful, each and every time. (A little balance to dealing with horses; eighteen months later, Tess still maintains they stink.)
“I don’t mean in general,” she replies. “I mean, when we go get Abigail back, when you face Dutch… you’re solid?”
What’s to say she won’t lose her head, out in the real world, beyond the sterile and controlled environment of the barge?
He climbs onto the horse and turns it to look at her as he replies. "Yeah.
Yeah - I guess I don't even think about it. We get her back, we get John
back - and Dutch..."
He trails off and looks out, towards Valentine. "Maybe what I needed was
distance from him. He don't control me the way he used to."
He grins at the sight of her mounting that easily. Good girl. He doesn't
respond for a good few minutes while they start riding, until he raises his
voice enough to be heard over the hoofbeats.
"I'll tell him he was like a father to me, and that he was a damn fool to
throw what we all had together away. And that I'm ready to go my own way,
and not his."
He looks at her, almost hoping to hear if that sounds good enough.
That feels like a pressing concern; her plans for the future have included helping him for a long time, and they should, given everything he's done for her, and all the ways he's supported her.
Testing out her own graduation with a potential gunfight feels dicy. The idea of seeing Arthur harmed after settling her own future feels even worse.
He snorts and shakes his head. "He's too much of a coward. Ain't we always
do the killin' for him? He might take up his gun, but he won't dare shoot
me. And I won't try to shoot him, neither."
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He rubs her shoulder a little, then pulls away so they can go on ahead to the Enclosure. "Startin' to act like you're their mama. Takin' care of your brood."
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"Oh please," she replies, crossing the room to pick up her bag and cram a few things into it. A beer, a can of beans, two spoons. "They're just lucky it's the one thing I have a mess of experience with, and if they want to act stupid about it, it's their lesson to learn."
God knows she did. But it does feel nice, knowing it won't be as hard of a lesson. Here, they've had warning.
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He pulls a bar of chocolate out of his belt and shows her - they have dessert, too.
"I thought everyone reacted pretty well to your lesson. You do got authority."
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“I was expecting it to blow up in my face.”
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"People here don't like to listen to others, but it's not easy to hear you might be runnin' outta food soon. Hell, I'm listening - ain't got any place to hunt or forage or anything."
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He shakes his head. "Can't really think about that, can you? People dyin', bein' brought back to life after that?"
Jesus Christ, that's bleak. "Best not focus on the worst case."
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She touches his arm briefly as she passes him to head to the Enclosure.
“You know, it’s funny,” she remarks. “Three people in the last week have said I’m acting like a warden. What does that even mean?”
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He looks at her as they walk, a small, proud smile showing through. "Is that right? They ain't wrong. You been takin' care of people. Helpin' out. Ain't you?"
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“Yeah,” she replies, favouring it. “It just feels so undramatic. In movies there’s always this big moment, people swear they’re going to be different, like it’s this big life and death thing. I’m just waiting for everything to explode in my face.”
See where she comes out in the wreckage. That’s been her whole life, anyway.
“How did you know you were a good enough person?”
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This feels like a big conversation to be having, but Arthur is nothing if not calm. He can look outwardly relaxed while being aware that this might be a moment - like so many that they've had.
"I don't know that I did, until the Admiral came and asked me to join up. What would explode in your face?"
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Not all of it was to survive, but some of it was.
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"So did I - and a lot of the heinous shit I did, I did just because I didn't care enough. But I started to care."
He shrugs, and takes the few steps down to the Enclosure's door. "Weren't a big moment for me. But sometimes I had a choice between stealing or giving, and I started to choose giving. I started to see that it was a choice, most of the time."
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“You think the Admiral knows you’re going to go back to your life after this and make all the right choices?”
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"I don't reckon he thinks I'm gonna do everything right after I get back," he says, before holding up a finger - he needs to set the scene. He picks a favorite of theirs, the plains of New Hanover, the strange, jutting rocks creating enough interest that it's not just an endless plain. The horses are waiting for them when he opens the door.
"You think every warden makes every decision the right way, all the time? You think I do that, now?"
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“I don’t mean in general,” she replies. “I mean, when we go get Abigail back, when you face Dutch… you’re solid?”
What’s to say she won’t lose her head, out in the real world, beyond the sterile and controlled environment of the barge?
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He climbs onto the horse and turns it to look at her as he replies. "Yeah. Yeah - I guess I don't even think about it. We get her back, we get John back - and Dutch..."
He trails off and looks out, towards Valentine. "Maybe what I needed was distance from him. He don't control me the way he used to."
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“Distance makes some things clearer.” Time, too. “What are you going to tell him?”
Unspoken: Do you have to kill him?
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He grins at the sight of her mounting that easily. Good girl. He doesn't respond for a good few minutes while they start riding, until he raises his voice enough to be heard over the hoofbeats.
"I'll tell him he was like a father to me, and that he was a damn fool to throw what we all had together away. And that I'm ready to go my own way, and not his."
He looks at her, almost hoping to hear if that sounds good enough.
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“As you should,” she agrees. “And he can go fuck himself if he doesn’t like it, but… do you think he’s going to take that well?”
She wouldn’t have. Not for an instant.
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"He won't take it well," he predicts. "And right he shouldn't. He ruined it for himself, but he can't accept that. I doubt he ever will."
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That feels like a pressing concern; her plans for the future have included helping him for a long time, and they should, given everything he's done for her, and all the ways he's supported her.
Testing out her own graduation with a potential gunfight feels dicy. The idea of seeing Arthur harmed after settling her own future feels even worse.
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He snorts and shakes his head. "He's too much of a coward. Ain't we always do the killin' for him? He might take up his gun, but he won't dare shoot me. And I won't try to shoot him, neither."
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"That's good, at least," she replies. "And Micah?"
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