( alright, so she'd been the first to cross her own line in the sand when it came to the f word. friends, like an endearment; friends like a death sentence. if clarke grapples with her last statement, she can reason that she didn't actually mean to include herself in that category, that it'd been meant as a broad statement meant to encompass anyone else on the entire planet krouse may be worried about
but she'd said what she said.
and now has to sit here in abject, dumbstruck silence as he rattles off sentiments that may as well slipped off her own tongue. what had she told natsuno all that time ago, recline on the roof of a summer camp cabin in horrifically short shorts and accompanied by his trusted flamethrower? i end up hurting a lot of my friends. and i don't want to add you to that list. and she'd meant that, she'd tried, but best intentions don't hold a flame to consequences and in the end they'd both been stuck in prison stripes and doomed to be auctioned off at the next port. natsuno had stood beside her despite it all, to his detriment. he'd stand beside her if it meant his permeant, un-resurrectable death if it came to it, and that's a heavy burden on already tired shoulders — to add krouse into the mix might just topple her.
but he'd sat with her in the woods. he'd given her his gun. he'd gritted his teeth through unmedicated field surgery instead of asking her to venture back out in search of a healer. he'd kept her name off the network. he'd warned her. he'd never questioned, always just managed to understand...
it is remarkably hard, to tear yourself away from what seems like something you'd want. but that is what leaders do, time and time again. at some point during her listening, clarke's mouth had slipped open; a sliver of teeth and the dark of her mouth on display for several long moments before she realizes and pulls up her lower lip. krouse hits her with the wild idea that she doesn't actually deserve the consequences of her own actions, and it takes another moment to properly formulate an acceptable response. )
I'm not a very good friend, either. But there's got to be a middle ground somewhere, right? ( this time when she smiles at him, there's none of that pinched reservation around the edges; it's a real smile, if not tired and resigned when it reaches up to brighten her irises and accentuate the bruise like bags beneath them. and clarke offers out a hand to shake. ) Maybe we can just call each other allies.
( with vested interest. because be it mutated monsters, lisa wilbourn, or whatever else echo deigns to throw at them, she'd never leave him out to dry either. )
no subject
but she'd said what she said.
and now has to sit here in abject, dumbstruck silence as he rattles off sentiments that may as well slipped off her own tongue. what had she told natsuno all that time ago, recline on the roof of a summer camp cabin in horrifically short shorts and accompanied by his trusted flamethrower? i end up hurting a lot of my friends. and i don't want to add you to that list. and she'd meant that, she'd tried, but best intentions don't hold a flame to consequences and in the end they'd both been stuck in prison stripes and doomed to be auctioned off at the next port. natsuno had stood beside her despite it all, to his detriment. he'd stand beside her if it meant his permeant, un-resurrectable death if it came to it, and that's a heavy burden on already tired shoulders — to add krouse into the mix might just topple her.
but he'd sat with her in the woods. he'd given her his gun. he'd gritted his teeth through unmedicated field surgery instead of asking her to venture back out in search of a healer. he'd kept her name off the network. he'd warned her. he'd never questioned, always just managed to understand...
it is remarkably hard, to tear yourself away from what seems like something you'd want. but that is what leaders do, time and time again. at some point during her listening, clarke's mouth had slipped open; a sliver of teeth and the dark of her mouth on display for several long moments before she realizes and pulls up her lower lip. krouse hits her with the wild idea that she doesn't actually deserve the consequences of her own actions, and it takes another moment to properly formulate an acceptable response. )
I'm not a very good friend, either. But there's got to be a middle ground somewhere, right? ( this time when she smiles at him, there's none of that pinched reservation around the edges; it's a real smile, if not tired and resigned when it reaches up to brighten her irises and accentuate the bruise like bags beneath them. and clarke offers out a hand to shake. ) Maybe we can just call each other allies.
( with vested interest. because be it mutated monsters, lisa wilbourn, or whatever else echo deigns to throw at them, she'd never leave him out to dry either. )