[ He doesn't nudge her back this time, just reaches for his long-forgotten glass. Taking a drink only delays the inevitable, but Sam's always been a fan of that, where he can manage it. ]
Lotta people in my line of work? They ain't exactly what you'd call good people.
[Kyna sits up fully, sucks in a sharp breath as she studies the scars. Before she can think better of it, she reaches out, fingers brushing against them lightly.]
[ His stomach tenses as he takes a hard bretah in, eyes on her fingertips. Surprise comes through his skin, along with a guarded sort of sure, go ahead.
It occurs to him that he can hardly feel it. The nerves over there never did heal up right. ]
Fulla questions. [ This time, his laugh's a little rueful. Dropping his shirt, he shifts a little where he's sitting, trying to get comfortable. Ish. ] It was for the Avery thing, actually. You remember that prison?
[ Hard to forget, he's hoping. ]
We go in, pretend we're prisoners, so we can get at the old part of the grounds--there was a lead we were tracking down, long story. [ Mostly, the details of the Dismas cross probably aren't going to be that interesting to her. ] Somebody, and I ain't gonna say who, but it wasn't me or Nathan, made it so we had to get outta there real damn quick. [ He's restraining himself from saying Rafe shanked our only ally in the entire goddamn prison for Kyna's sake, mostly. ] Prison guards got me in the back on our way out.
[ Which is to say, yep, there's definitely another pocked triangle on his back. He swallows the rest of his liquor. ]
They thought I was dead. Probably should be--[ better me than Nathan, but she'll want to know what that means ]--but I know who gave a damn about whether I was or not, and it wasn't Rafe Adler. We ain't exactly on the best of terms these days.
[ For related but different reasons! Don't worry about it! ]
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[Come on, Sam, don't leave her hanging.]
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Eh, guns were involved.
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What's the deal with you guys?
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Lotta people in my line of work? They ain't exactly what you'd call good people.
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[Apparently she's not going to let this one go.]
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Shifting a little, he pulls up his shirt. Underneath, along with the all-I-did-in-prison-was-situps abs, are three bullet wounds in a nebulously triangular shape. ]
He didn't put 'em in me, but he sure as hell didn't stick around and make sure I wasn't dead after.
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Okay, I need more detail than that.
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It occurs to him that he can hardly feel it. The nerves over there never did heal up right. ]
What d'you wanna know?
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[ Hard to forget, he's hoping. ]
We go in, pretend we're prisoners, so we can get at the old part of the grounds--there was a lead we were tracking down, long story. [ Mostly, the details of the Dismas cross probably aren't going to be that interesting to her. ] Somebody, and I ain't gonna say who, but it wasn't me or Nathan, made it so we had to get outta there real damn quick. [ He's restraining himself from saying Rafe shanked our only ally in the entire goddamn prison for Kyna's sake, mostly. ] Prison guards got me in the back on our way out.
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[That's... a lot to take in, and Sam taught her enough that she knows how much damage a bullet actually does to a person. It's not like the movies.]
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[ Which is to say, yep, there's definitely another pocked triangle on his back. He swallows the rest of his liquor. ]
They thought I was dead. Probably should be--[ better me than Nathan, but she'll want to know what that means ]--but I know who gave a damn about whether I was or not, and it wasn't Rafe Adler. We ain't exactly on the best of terms these days.
[ For related but different reasons! Don't worry about it! ]
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How long ago was that?
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[ with a slight edge to his voice, like he's ready to get real defensive, real fast, if he has to. ]
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[There's no need to get defensive. Kyna's voice is soft, and the only thing in her expression is empathy.]
I'm sorry. That's... Have you ever talked to anyone about this before?
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[ Who else would he tell? Talking about it to her's making him strangely uneasy as it is, that edginess still present in him. ]
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You know, that's exactly what I'd say to someone if I didn't want to talk about how I felt.
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Because it usually ends up helping me once I suck up how scared I am.
[She nudges him again gently, trying to lighten the mood a bit.]
Look, I'm just saying... That shit is awful. I'm sorry you had to deal with it, you know?
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