[ 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! ]
[ The fact that she doesn't back down from things, even when he'd really like her to, is one of the things about Kyna that he likes. But goddamn, does he want her to back off of this one. There's a brief pause, Sam looking at his glass like he's thinking of filling it again, and then-- ]
Let's talk about something else. Or do something else, I don't care.
[ Anything but having to say Thanks, you're right, it sucked. He's tempted to leave--she got her woes off her chest, they did what he came here to do. It's mostly pride that keeps him from getting up and stalking off. ]
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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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Let's talk about something else. Or do something else, I don't care.
[ Anything but having to say Thanks, you're right, it sucked. He's tempted to leave--she got her woes off her chest, they did what he came here to do. It's mostly pride that keeps him from getting up and stalking off. ]
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