maskormenacelogs | OCTOBER CATCH-ALL

It's fine. Everyone's thinking it. There's just not much point in thinking about something that might never happen, y'know? He might still come back and remember. They all might.

[And, by now, 'all' is a pretty broad category, for both him and Kaidan. Jaime's lucky; none of his friends were actually murdered. Well, not that he knows of. He's gotten a good deal more suspicious about port-outs now that he knows that Gogo's lack of response wasn't from something mundane, but because she had actually been kidnapped.

But he'd checked for Ken, all over the place. If he hasn't just been ported out, then he's somewhere Jaime can't sense. He rubs at the back of his neck/]

Um... I still wanna take a rain check on lunch, if that's okay with you. I don't think I'm gonna be great company.

Okay, I just --

[ He shook his head, and shifted on the seat, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose, like he was trying to fight off a headache that had started to press onto his temples, before he shook his head, and nodded. ]

It's no problem. Just... let me know, okay? I don't mind rescheduling.

[ Honestly, he didn't think he was much better company, but... ]

For what it's worth, I'm... I'm sorry. I know that's not much, but... [ He shook his head. ]

It's okay! Seriously. This one is nobody's fault, not even the government's; it's just that nobody knows how it works, so no one can fix it, either.

[People are working on it, but it's a slow process. How do you make a Porter? And more importantly, how do you make one that can connect to what must be thousands of dimensions? There are people from all over here, but there must be so, so many more. It's not only impossible to build, but it seems impossible to control too.

Jaime's always been about talking about problems to other people, but more and more, the problems he can think of are ones that have no present solution. Jaime's always been the sort who wants to take direct action about whatever it is that's bugging him, but as that's become further and further out of his reach... well, what's the point in talking about it, really? It's not about the way he feels about it, and it's not about doing something to change it. It's a discussion with no end, and one with no answer.]

All we gotta do is deal with it.

[It's not quite saying that they have to keep a stiff upper lip, but after that first shock of someone leaving and in the wake of the hole they leave behind, there's not much to do besides keep on trucking -- and to keep whatever memories you have of them.]

Yeah, that's... all we can do, right?

[ He shook his head, his smile half-weak like he was trying to figure out how to say the right thing. ]

I don't know who has it worse. The people who lose this, or those of us who are left behind.

[ Sometimes, they came back, and they remembered everything, but then again, the people left behind still had that trauma -- if it could be called that. The memory of hurt still left and the one that lingered. Each time, they saw more and more of it, and had anyone ever shut off completely? Had anyone ever sat back and said that they had too much? ]

You'll get through it, I know you will. It just... it's awful that we have to go through this experience.

There's never been any question of getting through it, [Jaime says, smile a little rueful.] But... seriously, are you kidding me with that stuff about who has it worse? I think we have it better, every time.

[He's spoken to people who say that what they find here in this place isn't worth it, who say that the friendships that they've made here result in nothing after having spent too much time suffering loss after loss. Jaime may have lost plenty of people by now, but he's determined never to reach that point, even if he's here for years and years. Even if he never meets some of these people again in his life, his life is better - if not somewhat more painful - for having met them. He'd bet money on it.]

I mean... it sucks. It sucks a lot, but when it comes down to it, I'd rather remember than anything else. I'm just happy I got to meet all -- you know. All the people who aren't here anymore.

Yeah, me too. Even if they're gone, we keep a piece of them alive, right?

Alive here, I mean. I'm sure most of them go back and live perfectly normal lives, and everything's fine.

[ Oh, who was he kidding? From what he'd seen, nobody really went off and faded back into obscurity. They were all from places and lives that had something happening, right? He honestly doubted that anyone would go back home and have a normal, run of the mill life. It just didn't happen. Not here. ]

But I...I think you're right? We're pretty lucky, all things considered. We get to meat so many people, do so many things. we're fortunate, showing up here. Even if sometimes I wish I could go home just to...finish things.

[Jaime stiffens, just a little. It's not as if he'd want Kaidan to not be able to finish what he's started - especially since that's what he wants - but saying it out loud like that feels like it's just going to jinx things. Maybe it would be better for Kaidan to go home, even if he's facing down a battle that seems unwinnable, but Jaime doesn't want him to leave. Jaime wouldn't want him to leave even if he was going home to happiness; selfishly, he wants Kaidan to stay right here with him, up until they can figure out the Porter for good.

Maybe that's not the way he should feel, but it's the way things are. He doesn't really want any of his friends to leave.]

Yeah... I mean, I get it. Of course you'd want to see things through. But you're going back to something as normal as pretty much everyone else here.

[He looks down at his feet again, a little intently.]

I guess most of us want to go home eventually.

[But if he had the choice? If he could go back home right this second, see his parents again, give his sister a big hug, and run off to find Brenda and Paco, would he? It feels like a betrayal thinking that way, but he wouldn't. He knows he wouldn't. There's too much to finish here.]

Yeah, I guess? I don't know, I've just --

[ He laced his fingers together, and leaned against the wall. Back here, it reeked of smoke, but he'd been in seedier places before. Cigarettes weren't any worse than Red Sand, or any of the other things that he'd had to deal with in the Marines. And that was it, wasn't it? He just didn't know how to handle this normal, normal world, as backwater as Earth was, it was better in his future than before, like now.

And as much as he hated galactic politics? He missed the damn stars. Of flying out and doing, of doing all those big things he'd dreamed about after coming home from Jump Zero, the things that made him feel alive, and worthwhile, and less like a killer, and more someone who was fighting for what they believed in. Being a biotic had never been easy, but in the Alliance he felt more welcomed than anywhere else he'd been. Still the Other, but one that was respected, and admired, and the Alliance was slowly changing minds, bit by bit. Not everyone thought he was all that different.

And then he came here, where he was an Import, a fancy way of boxing up what he'd been before, and he didn't know how to start from square one. Better people than he had done what they needed to get biotics out from under the "killing machine" label, back when he'd been a teenager. But now he felt like he had to hold a place in that conversation, and he didn't know how to, other than to serve.

But home? He had a problem too, and it was bigger than just who people thought he was.

But in the same vein... ]

I don't hate it here? But when you have the end of the galaxy as you know it hanging over your head... it makes you want to get it over with. I don't know what will happen, nobody has -- and that makes it...worse?

If there was a damn sign, I'd be okay, you know?

[This is just making it worse, Jaime realizes. He feels his stomach churning as they talk about it, as he sees Kaidan leaning against the wall as if getting ready for one of their regular talks, like everything's normal, like the boy that Jaime considers family didn't just get ported out, like they're not discussing someone like Kaidan being ported out too. He has no idea what to call Kaidan, but losing him wouldn't be just like losing friends like Kay.

He still avoids looking Kaidan in the eye, just breathes out low and slow, as if that could ease the tension in his chest. It doesn't. This is the wrong time for this, and the wrong place, but Jaime feels like he can't say as much. It would be horribly selfish to tell Kaidan how much he'd prefer that everyone stay, at least until they could say goodbye instead of just leaving gaping holes in everyone's lives.]

Of course I get it, [he says, though his voice is tight, unwavering.] You need to see things through. Most people here have something they need to see through. And, most of the time, those things are about as great as what you're going back to.

[But they go back anyway. For duty. It's a trait he admires in others, but sometimes, it's a trait he loathes too.]

Yeah, but that's...

[ Not comforting, yeah.

Jaime isn't looking at him, and that's probably a sign that Kaidan's blundering more than helping. He knows he isn't helping, he can tell by the despondent look on Jaime's face, and the way he wouldn't meet his eyes, it was obvious. He very nearly even uttered a soft sorry, but he didn't, and instead shook his head, looking up at the sky. ]

Your friend's been here for a while, right? I notice...

It seems like if you make it past the first few months, chances are higher that he'll show back up again soon, you know?

I know it's not much, but... I've seen a lot of people leave and just come back like nothing happened. [ He shook his head. ] It's not much, but it's something to hope for, I guess.

[The smile Jaime offers Kaidan is thin, humourless, because this is about more than just Ken, even if he's the person at the front of his mind. Perhaps he wouldn't be saying this if he could look into the future to see that Kaidan too will lose someone important, but he's not thinking that far ahead. Sure, he knows factually the Kaidan is statistically likely to lose someone along the way, but it's not something he's actively thinking about now.]

It's what I usually tell people whenever this happens, [he admits.] And looking at the stats, they're all there, but it's no guarantee. I've known lots of people who've left after this long. And... well, they haven't come back either. I'm not saying I've lost hope or anything, but after enough of them go, it's stupid to just hope they'll come back for more than a month.

Yeah. You want to...be real about it.

[ He could get it. All the reassuring things they said, it was a line now. They all knew it, and they all knew it was true. They knew it wasn't going to be anything more than just words to make them reassured that they could come back, but the look on Kaidan's face said it all, mouth turned down, eyebrows knitted. He respected the hell out of Jaime for being honest enough with himself to admit that it was only a statistic. ]

There's nothing that can be said, is there? To make it better, I mean.

Not really.

[It's not a very productive thing to say to someone who is presumably trying to be comforting, but the thing is, Kaidan's kind of failing at providing any semblance of solace in the face of loss, and Jaime's not sure if anyone really could. There's a reason why he tends to keep to himself when it comes to this sort of thing. He talks about talking about your problems, sure, but sometimes that's just not as effective as it should be.

He huffs a sigh, just a little one.] It is what it is. Right now, we can't change it. You ever talk to anyone here who's been here for years? About what losing people all the time does?

A little, but not really. I haven't... met too many people who've been here for a long time.

[ But he'd heard about them, and he could imagine what it did to someone. He curled his arms around his knees, and his shoulders lifted, in a semi-aborted shrug while he contemplated the best way to say it. ]

I can't imagine it gets easier, but maybe we would learn to handle it better, after a while.

[Jaime shakes his head. It's not true. He's starting to realize that it's not true firsthand, because now that he's lost many, he's not sure how to handle it any better. It's less that they learn how to deal with it, and more that they're forced to figure out how to shoulder it as the weight grows instead of shrinking.

He doesn't voice that, though; it's far easier to lean on the examples of outsiders, of strangers that Kaidan doesn't know and probably won't ever get the opportunity to know. Ruka seems a little reclusive, after all.]

I'm not so sure about that. I have talked to someone like that, and she just... gave up. Said that the people she knew didn't matter 'cause she'll never see them again, and that anyone else she meets will just wind up disappearing anyway.

[It's clear from his tone that he doesn't agree. He just said that he didn't agree. But at the same time, he can understand why someone would want to give up after just one pain too many.]

I don't think she's right. But I don't think that people are supposed to live like this either.

Geeze...

[ He breathed it out, like a swear, and it practically was. He shook his head, his frown more pained than anything else, and he looked at Jaime with a wince on his face. He'd heard that before, and he opened his mouth, before he closed it again, and then opened it, blowing out, before he leaned back. ]

Some people do that, with loss.

I've seen soldiers do it. They stop caring about anyone, and just work "for the job". They don't care about anyone or anything, because they always blamed themselves when someone fell on the field.

Some people just... they care a lot. More than they should, and then they get burned. [ A pause. ] Some people get like that, but... maybe they're the experts. Who is it?

I don't think I can say.

[Would Ruka care? Probably not. She's been pretty abrasive on the network, so maybe it's no surprise that she thinks that way, but he wants to preserve her privacy as much as possible. Jaime doesn't say much more for a moment, letting the analogy settle on his shoulders. They're not soldiers here, and they don't lose people falling in battle.

Jaime thinks that, in a way, that would be easier than losing people to the unknowable expanse of space and time, but he knows that's an awful way of looking at things. More than that, though, it's wrong. He thinks back to what Traci told him, how once he started losing people, he started going a little funny.

He hopes that's not already happening. Jaime drags a crate over with his foot and sits down on it lightly, knees pressed close together.]

Apparently I have some of that headed my way too, [he says, though he doesn't say it with much feeling, like it's just a statement of fact.] So what side are you on? How do you deal with it?

Some are harder than others.

[ He admitted, and looked up at the sky, like it had an easy way to answer it. There had been some deaths that were inevitable. Some that were regrettable, and some...

Well, maybe he shouldn't count Shepard. ]

Some...you try to honor their loss in some way. Keeping on with the mission, or... doing something they told you they wanted to do. It's...nice to make sure something still happens, despite their loss? [ His grimace tightened. ]

Some are...harder than others. Sometimes all you can do is mourn.

Which people just disappearing makes difficult, [Jaime concludes, shoulders sinking a little as he rests his chin on the heel of his hand. They're really stuck in a knotty mess here, stuck between wondering if they should mourn or have hope. He remembers thinking, way back when, that being here was sort of a way of making things even with his family, stranding him from them for as long as they had lost him. Now that a year's passed, he's given up on the idea, but he can't help the irrational feeling that all this is just some weird sort of karma.

It's something he's not uncomfortable voicing, but he is uncomfortable swinging the conversation around right back to himself and his own thoughts and feelings when Kaidan's talking about something that's obviously so deeply personal to him, so deeply personal to anyone who's had to mourn time and time again.]

I'm sorry you've had to go through all that in the first place, though.

Hey, it's not like I didn't know the score going into it.

[ His laugh was a touch weary, but he knew what he'd signed up for. ] I signed up because I wanted to serve, but I knew going in that I wasn't going to go without losing anyone. My dad was in the military too, before he retired.

[ Retired to have Kaidan, actually. And retired to being an orchard farmer, of all things. He knew it was a big change, but he couldn't help but be a bit envious of that life. He didn't think he was ever going to get that, especially with the Spectre position he'd found now. ]

I feel worse for us here. I mean, some of us...we didn't ask for that kind of loss. It's harder to accept. The people who showed up here didn't ask for it either, but...

Now we all have to live with it.

Nobody asks for it. For some people, it just happens, whether they're expecting it or not.

[Kaidan's mentioned that his dad was in the military before, but it only hammers in how similar he and Kaidan are. He could have wound up a lot like Kaidan, if he were born in the same circumstances, but that's not exactly a bad thing. They've just been instilled with the same ideals, is all, and hey, maybe that has a lot to do with the way they were raised.

Eventually Jaime shrugs and says what's lingered in his mind for some time now.] I mean... my parents hadda go through that. Wait for someone without getting any closure on what actually happened, I mean. It's like this place is one big way of showing me the other side of things.

Yeah, it's... I think...

[ He sighed, and looked up at the sky, looping his fingers behind his head while he thought about what to say. Thankfully, he knew he could, with Jaime. He didn't have to feel rushed, or like the silence was a bad thing. Jaime was as careful and as thoughtful as Kaidan was, and it was nice, slowing down with his words, and his thoughts. To really deliberate over it. ]

I think this place is pretty good at that. Showing you something you never thought you'd see otherwise?

It's like... life gets turned a little funny, gives us different perspectives.

[For a moment, all Jaime can do is nod along. He's not egotistical enough to think that everyone's comings and goings have anything to do with him, but it does feel earned, in a way, that he should learn what his family had to learn, that he has to get a taste of the independence and loneliness so many of his friends have felt, when he's never felt anything of the sort before.

Maybe it will help the people here grow in the long run, but losing people like this is nothing short of cruelty, though that too feels somewhat earned. He never thought about the situation long enough to say goodbye, and now...

He shakes it off.]

So what's your new perspective, then?

That... maybe we need to take things for what they are. Like...gifts? For getting to know the people we have, and to learn from them.

[ He shook his head. It sound canned, even to him. Cheesy, but he didn't know how to explain it otherwise. He scrunched his face up. ]

Or rather...

I guess... it makes me see things from a non-military perspective. I've been doing things so long in the military that I sometimes forget how...the other side works. It's...different.

[That's sort of what Jaime suspected. Being in the military for as long as Kaidan has changes you, for better or for worse, and this has been an awful long time to be what is essentially an enforced civilian. The lack of structure in his life must be so strange, he thinks.]

Different, but not in a good way?

[The pause before he said different certainly makes Jaime wonder.]

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