[ York's pretty easygoing so the mention of whatever happened to end his career merely dims his smile a bit, and he picks up his drink and slams back a larger swallow. He's glad to be able to pass it off as being connected to his eye. That's an easier explanation than the truth. ]
[ Fry has to shake her head, has to take another drink. She doesn't understand it, especially on this ship. York is newer, she reminds herself. He hasn't been trapped in his own worst nightmare on this ship, hasn't nearly been brainwashed. ]
Sometimes being happy isn't the right response, either, [ she finally offers up, firmly not thinking about Owens, about the crash, about people disappearing to worlds that weren't necessarily any better. ]
[ York knows that a lot better than he'll admit here. There's too much he avoids thinking about. Carolina isn't here. He doesn't have the daily reminder of how he failed to save her, how she threw the symbol of their relationship back in his face. He's just as uncertain now as he was before whether or not she's alive, but here he doesn't have the guilt of thinking he should have gone back for, should still find a way to go back for her. There's no way he can do that from here.
Still, as those thoughts flash by, he looks away somewhere, his gaze momentarily distant and sadder. Just for an instant. Then he fixes his usual slight smile and looks back at her. ]
Yeah. I know that. But there's no use feeling bad about stuff you can't help.
[ Stuff you can't help. But things could have been different. She had tried to kill them all to save herself and Owens. They had thanked her for saving their lives, not knowing until Johns had told them, had screamed it into the night. Then almost all of them ended up dying anyway.
Without thinking, she rubs at the scar on her torso through her jumpsuit. ] Mmm. [ She can't change the past, but that doesn't make the guilt leave. ]
[ He's suddenly a lot more interested in his drink and he holds it up a moment before swallowing down the rest of it. If a person feels bad about things like what he's seen, there's more than one way to deal with, that's how he looks at it. Driving it away is more important then ever, with Delta gone. ]
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I did catch on to that, yeah.
I loved working out in space. It was, uh...
[ oh yeah, he's been avoiding telling people about exactly what happened to prevent that. ]
It's been a little while since I've had that. I missed it.
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[ Of course, she was just the docking pilot on Hunter-Gratzner... but still. ]
Did that change after your eye or before?
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[ York's pretty easygoing so the mention of whatever happened to end his career merely dims his smile a bit, and he picks up his drink and slams back a larger swallow. He's glad to be able to pass it off as being connected to his eye. That's an easier explanation than the truth. ]
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And now we're here.
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I make an effort to make it the right word. 'f I ever get depressed then something's wrong up in here, okay.
[ He gestures at his own head when he says this, and he's not joking. That's pretty clear. ]
Least that's how I see it.
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Sometimes being happy isn't the right response, either, [ she finally offers up, firmly not thinking about Owens, about the crash, about people disappearing to worlds that weren't necessarily any better. ]
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Still, as those thoughts flash by, he looks away somewhere, his gaze momentarily distant and sadder. Just for an instant. Then he fixes his usual slight smile and looks back at her. ]
Yeah. I know that. But there's no use feeling bad about stuff you can't help.
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Without thinking, she rubs at the scar on her torso through her jumpsuit. ] Mmm. [ She can't change the past, but that doesn't make the guilt leave. ]
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