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( he claps a hand to nate's shoulder. companionably, )

Adventurous fella like you, turnin' down the chance to try 'em all? It's like I ain't never known you t'all.

( he is aghast. aghast!! )

Reckon I'm gonna start with mulberry, though. That one sounds like it ain't too bad.

( honestly he is definitely a vanilla baby (in more ways than one) but, you know what? he's dead. why not live a little? so he negotiates a moment with the crab vendor and comes away with his ice cream, steppin' back so's nate can do the same. )

[ He watches him make his selection in mild amusement and wonders how many ice cream flavors exist in the mid-1940s, as the choice Gene ends up making is fairly tame. There's time enough for him to attempt to swallow a bite of butter and lobster flavored ice cream. ]

Gene. [ With all the affected sincerity Nate can muster, he places a gentle hand upon Gene's shoulder. ] I'm gonna try every one of these until I get sick. But I'm gonna start with pineapple cilantro.

[ Which is what he promptly breaks away to retrieve from the little vendor station, thanking the 'cream crab and digging his spoon in. It's a pale yellow, with little flecks of green. Not bad. Around half a mouthful: ]

So what'd you wanna talk about?

( he ain't never one to shy away from hard things. he's silent a brief spell, an' then, )

That fella Rafe, he's from your world, ain't he?

[ Nate chokes on his ice cream. ]

[ coughs ]

[ clears his throat ]

...yeah?

( that. sure is an interestin' sort of reaction. gene raises his eyebrows, reaches out to put a steady hand on nate's shoulder. )

Y'all right?

[ Apparently Rafe is making the rounds with all the swiftness and aplomb he's known for, in fancy people circles. Nate wrinkles up his face as he coughs again on a flake of cilantro. ]

Yeah, I'm good.

[ He sounds mildly strangled, but recovers quickly and puts on the most pointedly neutral face he can muster. ]

That's what you wanted to talk to me about? Rafe?

( he squeezes nate's shoulder briefly, an' then drops his hand away. his ice cream is drippin' on his hand an' he wipes at it idly with the kerchief he keeps in his back pocket. )

Yeah. ( his tone is soft as he wipes down his hands. ) I wagered on the odds of it bein' a conversation with some weight to it.

( if they were friends, nate would'a mentioned him by now. it's the nature of things. you don't keep someone from your same world secret unless there's a reason to the doin'. )

You couldn't have waited until I finished my ice cream?

[ His voice lilts up at the end, jokingly accusatory. Gene didn't mean anything untoward by it, he doesn't think, not in the cruel and unusual sense. It isn't his style to be willfully deceptive, even if Nate feels as though he's been lured out here by the promise of pineapple cilantro only to be blindsided by Rafe fucking Adler. ]

Why're you asking? You meet him?

Couple times.

( he drags his small plastic spoon along the edge of his ice cream dish to catch anything that's meltin' down. )

Clued in some when he started talkin' about pirates. ( there were too many similarities, an' gene ain't a fool. you look for the leylines between folk, you're sure to find 'em plain. ) But I kept your name outta my mouth.

( it's as gentle a reassurance as he can go on an' offer. he doesn't know the story. doesn't need to, either, but he does want nate to know that he'd played his cards close enough to his chest. he likes rafe, that's a choice he's made on his own. but he's worldly enough to understand that nate an' rafe likely ain't keen on each otehr. )

[ Nate is already pinching the bridge of his nose by the time that second sentence makes it way out of Gene's mouth. He puts some distance between them and the vendor, not out of explicit upset but because he still doesn't entirely trust these spirits, ice cream be damned. By the time he's gathered himself to speak Nate is bordering on businesslike: not defensive, but simple and pat. ]

Yeah, he's from my world. We know each other.

[ There's an unspoken gratitude that Gene didn't bring up Nate's name in proximity, Christ knows how Rafe would have reacted. ]

I'm not surprised he talked about pirates. Rafe's been looking for Avery for fifteen years.

( he shifts himself when nate does, attenuated to what he's sayin' an' all the things he ain't. discomfort an' tension come off him in waves fit to blacken a sky if they had one that were anything but lightless to start.

gene reaches out an' touches his elbow. soft, then falls away. )

I don't need the details. Just, ah... how separate I ought to keep any mention of the both of you in each other's company.

Well.

[ Well. ]

He's the reason I'm dead, so I don't think he'll be super stoked to hear me brought up in conversation.

( ah.

he's got a coin in his pocket that feels heavier, suddenly. funny, how his own death was the easiest to accept — but when he looks at someone like nathan, who's got so much to offer the world, bein' reminded of his death hits him just to hurt. some lights shine brighter than others, an' the world dims when they're snuffed out. his mouth tugs down at one corner, an' he gives his head a soft little shake as if tryin' to dispel it some. )

You think he's plannin' on bein' dangerous to folks here?

[ Nate suddenly wishes he weren't standing here like some kind of goober holding ice cream for an otherwise serious conversation. He inhales slowly, measured, taking the time to exhale again, scrunching his face up in thought. ]

No.

[ He's had a lot of time to think about what Five said, words that rattle around in his head every time he and Rafe are in proximity. Do you think he might hurt your friends, or does it bother you that he's getting close to them after what he's done to you and your brother? Because one of those things is for them to deal with, and one of those things is for you to deal with.

It bothered him then. Still does, to an extent. Nate knows it's his own damn problem, that people can handle themselves, that it isn't envy so much as concern. Maybe fear. He doesn't have the words yet to really articulate the sensation in a way that's academically satisfying and comprehensible in layman's terms. He almost sounds defeated when he says: ]

He's pretty much only homicidal around me and my brother.

( 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.

[ 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.

( 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.

[ 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.

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