{ inbox } hadriel

[nonscriptum]

This is Nate, you know what to do. I'll get back to you.

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[preseance]

( that's a lot to parse. an' it's a lot to take, an' gene knows he's going to have to sit down at some point by his lonesome an' suss things out thereon. but for the time bein', it's a friend of his that's hurtin'.

he sort of steers the both of them to a bench an' gestures for nate to take a seat before he follows suit. )

Well... I'll be honest, you're a fella here too, an' that don't reassure me much. I'd just as soon not have you hurt.

[nonscriptum]

[ Nate lets himself be led even in the uncomfortable silence, unsure as to what exactly is running through Gene's mind. He doesn't doubt the impression Rafe made was a charming one, he's always had that air when he's not stabbing a Panamanian warden in the lungs just between the ribs, when he's not curb-stomping Sam's face into the dirt. Rafe Adler knows how to work rooms in ways Nate will never be able to, has an ease of comportment to him that can't be imitated. He's good at what he does, and can't be faulted for that.

Seating himself, Nate sets his half-empty cup of ice cream aside, appetite lost. Or maybe it's just the ration chocolate kicking in.

He tries not to look so startled when Gene continues, wondering for a split-second if he's talking to someone else. Nate actively looks behind him, over his own shoulder, before turning back slowly, eyebrows climbing toward his hairline. ]

...Genie, [ Too familiar? He's already committed, leaning in with an arm propped on the back of the bench. ] I know you haven't known me very long, but I can assure you I'm no stranger to getting hurt.

[preseance]

( the name should be a scar. but kyna's been peeling back the tissue and it's healin' clean. grief chokes him, but he swallows it down. nate's earned it, an' reggie wouldn't hardly mind the man musclin' in on his territory anyhow.

he settles on somethin' like a smile, just turned up faint at one edge. there's a sadness to it he can't shake, but it's real. )

Oh, trust me, Nathan, that ain't escaped my notice. That you're accustomed to all manner of violence bein' done you ain't hardly a secret.

( he wears it in every line'a his body. that casual acceptance of pain. )

But just because you can take somethin' sure don't mean y'should have to.

[nonscriptum]

[ It's a practical sort of reason, the one that Gene gives him. The kind of thing Nate has most definitely told others, if hypocritically, and the kind of thing that folks have absolutely told him. Burdens are easier carried with two or more people, a fact of which he is abundantly aware, but it doesn't keep him from wanting to protect them from himself or what tends to follow him.

They're dead, but that doesn't mean they can't die. That they can't be hurt. His tolerance for it is stronger than so many people's, it seems stupid to pass it on when he's capable of wielding it himself. ]

...look, I appreciate the gesture.

[ Something he tries to convey with the utmost sincerity, taking a patient breath, exhaling slowly. ]

But it's my problem. I can handle it. I'm not trying to be brave, or stupid, but his beef is with me. I don't want that to extend to anyone else.