ataraxionlogs | out flew the web and floated wide

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out flew the web and floated wide

CHARACTERS: Roy Walker [

fallasleep] and anyone who wants to visit him
LOCATION: Medbay
WARNINGS: Suicidal thoughts, depression. The usual with Roy.
SUMMARY: Roy wakes up when he doesn't want to wake up. People visit him.
NOTES: Takes place from 14 Aug to the end of the month. Please put the date down when tagging in, thanks!

[ His eyes are open and he feels cold and he doesn't want either. His throat and chest and stomach ache. Some might think that is a good thing. But pain means he's alive, and that's what Roy doesn't want. He sees the medbay again. He sees his own fingers, curling by his side, and both seem the deepest cruelty anyone can inflict on him.

Roy understands why he lives, though. He hasn't hidden himself well enough. He was too eager. He didn't try his very best to find what he needed. The painkillers should have been stronger. Maybe he should have taken the acid instead of the iodine. Maybe he should have asked for stronger alcohol. Maybe he should have just taken a scalpel instead of... Maybe, maybe, maybe. A thousand of them and no way that he can fix it.

(But he was so desperate. He is still desperate. He will have to try again, as soon as possible. He knows that.)

He stares in front of him. Straight ahead. No matter the sounds, no matter who looks. He simply stares emptily.

His throat hurts. (There's a part of himself that's happy about that.) He can't speak, though he still has his tablet by his side. ]

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[ Mutant. It's a word that keeps coming up. Roy likes trying to look at words in his mind; to try to figure out their meanings by the weight on them on his tongue, the shape of them pressing on the sides of his mouth.

But he can't, for 'mutant'. It is too alien. (He thinks about circus freaks, of women with long beards and twins who are joined together by their bodies and men with big bellies and curved spines who look pregnant- but those aren't mutants, are they?)

He has to ask. ]

Are they all like you, mutants?

[ those aren't mutants, but the association is still not entirely incorrect and anderson turns her face into his shoulder and pushes down the thoughts of mutie and go die.

she's heard it said to others more often than herself; she doesn't look like a mutant and her mutation is one she can easily hide, but that makes her no less a mutant and she's not hiding. ] No.

[ letting out a breath slowly. ] Most of them are nothing like me. Malformed, three legs or three eyes or organs in the wrong places and incapable of living. Some are stronger than a normal and some, like me, have psychic abilities.

[ Malformed, three legs or three eyes or organs in the wrong places and incapable of living, she says, and Roy thinks he has never seen those. Of course he hasn't - they're likely to have been born dead, aren't they? Or even if they weren't, they would've been killed - if not by their own parents, then by someone else.

He closes his eyes and lets out a breath that's almost like a laugh. ]

You're lucky to have been born in your world. [ He pauses, looking at her and strokes his fingers through her hair. ] If you were born in mine, you would've been dead.

[ many of them are born dead or born alive only to die soon after, incapable of sustaining themselves and living off their own power -- and medicine has made huge advancements, but no one cares enough for mutants to want to keep them alive. ]

I'm not easy to kill.

[ but he's probably right, and the words come out almost regretful because she knows this from experience. some of those experiences are ones she'd rather not have. ]

[ Neither is he. Roy smiles, a bitter creature, barely acceptable as an expression on a person's face. ]

That's not really a good thing.

[ Her, him- what does it matter, who he's really referring to? She'll know anyway, even if he doesn't. (And that's reliance, isn't it?) ]

I think it is.

[ but then one fundamental difference between the two of them is that anderson doesn't want to die, that she will always cling to life with both hands and hold on and try to make the best of it, whereas roy wants to die.

and she thinks it is a good thing that he isn't quick to die, too, because she wants him alive, too. she'd hate to lose him. ]

[ She doesn't have to say it; he knows already, that she wants him to live. It's obvious when she came to him. If Roy is the type to laugh at the world when it is mocking him, he would have.

(But he isn't. Might make his life easier if he is. Might make his life easier if he is a lot of things he isn't.) ]

Can you imagine a reason to want to die?

[ He knows that she can feel what he does. But that question- it's a different thing.

Maybe he's seeking some sort of perverse connection. It's the only kind he can manage, these days. ]

[ for a moment, anderson stills. it would be unfair to give him a superficial or blithe answer, and so she thinks about it-- can she imagine a reason to want to die? ]

Yes.

[ she hopes it will never come to that, doesn't think it will ever come to that, but if she honestly thought that there was nothing she could do to make a difference, not even the slightest difference to even just one person? she thinks then she might want to die. ]

[ He smiles - a cruel, sharp-edged thing. ]

You can't leave it there. Tell me.

[ a sigh, against his collarbone. ]

If I could not make any kind of difference, if all chances of that were taken away from me in some way. Maybe then.

[ Making a difference. Roy snorts- (but his hand continues to cart through Anderson's hair). ]

You'll never want to die, then. It's easy to make a difference in someone's life.

Killing them is making a difference, isn't it?

I want to make a positive difference. [ killing someone-- she doesn't think that's positive except in rare cases. they're going to have to agree to disagree on that one. ]

[ He blinks, cocking his head at her. ]

If that's the case, why aren't you already dead? There's no way anyone can make a positive difference on this ship.

[ It's plain pragmatism. He's heard that those who were alive before being brought here will be sent back without their memories. Nothing they experience here will last, really - so what's the point?

(Simple: there isn't one.) ]

Of course there is.

[ she made a difference when he called her that time, when she helped him in and out of the pods with the jump. she's making a difference in noah's life, teaching him how to defend himself. there are plenty of ways to make a difference, here. ]

We won't remember you, you know. [ He says, meeting her eyes, staring at her with his lips pressed into a line.

Then he relaxes a little. Exhales hard between his teeth. ]

At least, that's what I've heard.

But while you're here, you will. [ with a slight shrug, barely there. it isn't about being remembered, it is about knowing that she's made someone's life better, if only just for a while, if only here. ]

Is that's all that'll make you happy? [ Almost accusingly. ]

Is that it?

[ is that all that will make her happy? no, it's far from it and there are a million things that she would change if she could, but there is no point in fighting what absolutely cannot be changed and there is every point in fighting for change where it is possible.

is that all? no, but-- ] It's enough.

[ enough for her not to want to die. enough for her to think that there is some point to this. it's far from the best, but it's enough and it's a basis from which to depart, from which to try for more.

is she happy? maybe not, but she's happy enough and that's really all anyone can ask for, isn't it? ]

[ He can see those emotions flashing across her face, her thoughts suddenly transparent to him. The idea that her own happiness isn't entirely necessary. That she needs a purpose more. And Roy blinks, wondering if he has had it backwards- that he was trying to look for happiness when he should be trying to find purpose instead.

But what purpose does a man like him have? What purpose can a cripple have, now?

He turns away. ]

You're unbelievable. [ Softly. ]

[ purpose and happiness are necessarily intertwined for her. if she has no purpose, if there is no point to her existence, if she cannot make a difference -- she doesn't think she could be happy under those circumstances. conversely, as long as she has a purpose, her own happiness will follow and isn't constantly required.

a cripple can have plenty of purpose. especially here, with technology more advanced than in his time, purpose does not translate to physical prowess. ]

I don't know about that. [ said on an exhale, not quite a sigh. ]

[ He doesn't want to think about the possibility of having a purpose. It's easier, so much easier, to believe that he has none, so it's perfectly fine for him to die. That there's nothing more than that.

So- ]

I don't know what you mean.

[ there is more than that and she doesn't want him to die; partly because she cares for him and partly simply because there is more for him. just because he cannot walk does not mean he doesn't have a purpose.

he made a difference in her life; he is making a difference right now, helping her. doesn't that count for anything? ]

Why is it so unbelievable to you?

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out flew the web and floated wide

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