wrecked_egg | IC Voicemail:

Still recovering, still mad. Which would explain why she isn't here, if she's death tolling; Shiro's room is way down on 7, and that's a long way to go for someone still on wobbly legs. Explains the lack of a call, too. She doesn't know Yara that well, has seen her around and on the network, but that's it. They don't know each other. And she and Steve...well, they have a history. It's not all great, but he was good to her, back when she first got to the barge. They'd been friends, once. The breach had reminded her of that, maybe a little uncomfortably.

Still, despite that recent memory, it's been a very long time since they actually agreed on anything, which is why it might be a surprise to Steve when Shiro just nods. "You're right. Consequences are--important. It's hard remembering that sometimes, when death doesn't stick. But it's not right. What do you think should happen? If not death, if not locking him up?" How do you punish someone in a place like the barge? How do you make them recognize consequences, or accept them? It's a valid question, and she's looking for an honest answer.

Steve never quite knows what to do with breach feelings, or where to put them. Sometimes they bleed into reality, and sometimes they don't, but the memories certainly do for a while afterward, and he isn't quite sure what to do with them, other than maybe hope they might give the two of them some common ground they haven't had for real, on the Barge, in a while.

And, in fact, he almost looks dumbfounded for a split second, when Shiro agrees with him right off the bat. He was winding up for an unpleasant argument, and now he doesn't have it.

Not that he's necessarily complaining. He deflates a little, but only in the way of someone who's found out he won't have to sprint up the side of a mountain, but still has to hike it. "I don't know," he has to admit, after a moment of silence. "That's sort of where you come in, isn't it? I barely know Ardyn. You know him better, you might have an idea of what he needs to learn, here."

He pauses again, and then; "I still think it should be... at least a little uncomfortable. If you want my opinion." He looks at her carefully, but she had just asked it. "I don't think it should be coddling. Murder is serious - nevermind that the victim can get back up, here. The consequences should reflect that."

It is kind of a let-down, in a way. There's still a mountain. She still has no idea what to do about Ardyn, and she has no idea what to do about Steve, and the fact that she misses being able to just talk to him, and not have every conversation be a potential field of landmines. She was never very good at talking, but she's gotten better at it. Just not better enough to know how to address things like this.

Something uncomfortable, Steve says. Something Ardyn needs to learn. She knows what that is, or she has an idea, she thinks, but she doesn't know how you teach something like that. She doesn't know if it's something you can teach.

"It's--hard. To come up with stuff that isn't...the wrong kind of thing. Or that--he doesn't already know," she says, and the words are more careful than they might normally be. Ardyn's past is his own to share. It's not her story to tell. "But you're right. It should be something serious." A pause, then, as she thinks. "I probably shouldn't just--offer to let Yara stab him back. Right?" It'd be fair, but she doesn't think it would fix anything in the long run.

He doesn't mean to be a minefield, it just... it just falls out that way. He's never been able to let things go, and he doesn't really think he can change that. The most he can do is try to make it easier by leaving people alone - and it's what she had wanted, the last time they spoke (outside of a breach, at least). And now he can't, because this is important. More important than comfort. Sometimes you've just gotta do that uncomfortable thing, and he knows it.

"Yeah," he agrees, quietly - earnestly. "It is. And, I mean, maybe you won't get it right. I'm just asking that you try," because turning her back, turning a blind eye, is so much worse than messing it up. He believes that with everything he has. It's why a part of him is still not - will never be - sorry for trying to change things. He can be sorry for a lot, but he's not sorry he said No to being a part of the way things were.

He does laugh softly, then - but it's a desperate sound, because, "No. That's not - that's not what fixes this. That's what keeps this going. And I will not let her demote herself because of this. Or anything. I won't."

His voice and his eyes are harder now, because that's a line he will not let anyone cross. Yara asked him not to, and he wouldn't have let her, even if she'd tried. She'd have had to go through him first.

It isn't what she'd wanted, not really. She'd wanted him to listen, and to talk to her, and he'd heard what he wanted to hear instead. She hadn't had the tools to have this conversation then. She hadn't known how to say what she was feeling or why it bothered her so much. She still doesn't have the most refined tools for it, but she's getting better every day. And it means something, him coming to her like this, for someone in specific instead of the barge as a whole, something personal instead of some grand vague ideal. She gets the personal and specific.

"I always try," she tells him, and there's a quieter note in her voice as she answers. "Even if I mess up." They had that much in common. There's a reason they were friends to begin with. "But that doesn't mean I shouldn't ask other people for advice, or help first. Maybe they have answers that are better than mine. And it's--Yara got hurt. She should get a chance to say what she wants." Because choice is important. That's the part she thinks that maybe they don't define the same way.

"She won't get demoted. There's a reason she's still a warden, and a reason she's your warden, I think." She refuses to let Steve's harder voice or looks derail her, only looks back at him, frank.

"She will if she gets angry and tears your inmate to shreds," Steve says quietly. "There's a part of her that wants to."

He won't say more, won't say that Yara expressly asked him to take all her weapons away, to make sure she couldn't exact revenge. He knows she wants to, and part of him can't even blame her, despite the fact that no. He won't let her.

But, "Fine," he says - not an angry huff, but an agreement. "Then talk to her, ask what she thinks. She might have some ideas and maybe you should consider them. But I don't know anything about what happened, other than he stabbed her in the back, and that is exactly the kind of thing I'm supposed to make sure people aren't doing to her."

So, naturally, he feels responsible, and guilty, and it's at least a part of why he's here, before Yara can even get out of bed. Well - maybe she can now, breaches mess everything up. That's beside the point.

"I always saw wardens as... commanding officers, a little. When an inmate does something, it's up to the warden to take responsibility." Shiro seems like she agrees, at least. And he's grateful for that, because one more fight is something neither of them needs. "That's what you accept, when you accept a job here. You don't get paid for nothing."

"What do you mean, that's what you're supposed to stop people doing?" Shiro's willing to let a lot of what he says pass without comment, willing to let his comments about Yara maybe getting demoted pass without talking about how she's already made a choice if Steve is here and not her, but that one throws her a little.

And then there's what he says at the end, and she doesn't disagree with the part about a commanding officer and responsibility--she's not responsible for making Ardyn's choices, but she does need to be aware of the consequences--but it's the last bit she feels the need to clarify. "I'm not doing this to get paid," she says, and her voice is a little quieter. "I didn't ask the Admiral for anything when I stayed. I just wanted a chance to help people, and to not--leave some others. The only reason I asked for anything was because Ardyn told me he'd only try and graduate if I asked for something just for myself, not for anyone else."

"I'm supposed to watch her back. I'm supposed to keep her from getting killed." And to him, that definitely doesn't just start when she gets home. It started the second he swore it to her. "It's not my business who she spends time with - but it is my business when they hurt her. I swore an oath to protect her." Fat lot of good he's done, doing that.

"Then if you're doing it for him, it's even more important that you do it for him," Steve says. Yeah, maybe he's pleased she genuinely wants to help people. But if that's the case, and he believes her... it makes stepping in and being that authority all the more vital. "You won't help him by being too soft. You won't help him by letting him get in his own way, either. Why does he care what you get out of it?"

The oath part again kind of makes her want to say something, but this isn't about her and what she thinks Steve should maybe do or think about. Once, maybe, she'd let herself get sidetracked, but not now. Especially not when she can focus on the second part, which she does have an answer for. "The same reason he killed Yara, I think," she says, and a little quieter becomes even more. "Because he does care, and I think that scares him a lot. It scared me for a really long time, and he's had even longer to think about it. When you care, people can hurt you even more. They know how to hurt you. So you hurt them first." She says the words like she knows intimately, like she's lived them. Because she has, and she's still paying for that, and will be for a very long time to come.

"The people you care about will always hurt you," Steve says softly. He kind of figures that's not a lesson Shiro or Ardyn need to learn. It's just a fact. He just... can't fathom hurting them back, not when the thing you want is the opposite of that. But what he would do - has done - is not the issue here, either. This is about helping Ardyn. And how handling this right could do that.

"How did you learn to do something else?"

There are two kinds of people, she thinks. She's been both of them, still is, in a way. There's the person who'll do anything to keep from being hurt, even if it means hurting others first, and the person who would rather be hurt themselves, take that pain rather than share it with others. You have to learn how to balance. She thinks for a while about Steve's question, glancing over in the living room to check in on Bucky and Kuro and Goosifer.

"It...took a while. To learn that there were people who would love me, no matter what I was, or what I'd done. And longer to learn that loving someone doesn't mean you have to agree with them, or that them loving you doesn't mean they can't be mad at you. It took time. And people who didn't let me have what I wanted, to be alone. I don't know if that's going to work for Ardyn, but he's been like this for a long time. It's gonna take a while. But I can't force him to make that choice to let people love him. You can't ever force that."

"I'm not asking him to change overnight," Steve concedes. "But I am asking you to at least... try something, and stick with it. Maybe what worked for you will work for him, and that's why you're his warden. Or maybe you're his warden because you'll be willing to try something else if that doesn't work. I don't know," he blows out a breath, "but I just - I need to know you won't forget or belittle what he did. You need to talk to him. Make sure he knows you know what happened. Make sure he knows it's on your mind."

Maybe that's all she does, and... he can't force her to do more. But sweeping it under the rug seems like the absolute worst thing anyone can do. It's akin to complacency, in his mind.

"I won't." There's a certainty in her tone, a feeling that for the first time in a very long time, she and Steve are on the same page. "Even if death doesn't last, that doesn't make it right. The pain is still real. All the feelings--being afraid--that's still real, too. I think when that stops mattering, it's--worse." So she will talk to him. It may take a while to find the words, but she will.

"I'll message Yara too. So she can have a say in what happens. I won't let Ardyn die for her, but she should get to say her part."

"I think so, too," he says quietly, looking mollified; almost grateful. Death and pain have to mean something, because when they mean nothing, that's when you've truly lost everything.

"He shouldn't die for her," he adds, because she's right on that count, too. "Neither of them deserves that." Even though he knows there's a part of Yara that wants him dead, even if it would get her demoted. And even though there's a part of Steve that wants him dead, too. That part is savage and angry and petty and he can't let it be the part that Yara or Bucky sees. It's the part he's pretty sure Sam was worried about. It's the part he has to be better than.

"But they both deserve for this situation to mean something. That's all I'm asking."

So, "Thank you. For letting me talk to you."

IC Voicemail:

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject