hostileterritory | TLV Inbox

Oh...yeah? I could try and fix that. [He latches on to that instead of the question, rolling onto his side to blankly stare at his communicator, mind wandering to what he could do to fix that.

It wouldn't fix his fuck up, wouldn't bring Caleb back, but it was something.]

Doors open, I'll see you in a bit?

He gives the door a light knock before he opens it, even though Hanna implied a Come Right In. It's polite to knock anyway.

David eases the door shut behind him, and something aches when he sees the way Hanna is lying there staring at his communicator. Distant, like a sore muscle days after a bruise.

"Hey," says gently. "You look like hell."

Hanna sits up a little when David opens the door, resting on his elbow. The smile that comes is definitely forced for the other man's benefit, though it is nice to see him.

Deep breath in, "Eh, I've been worse. It's-" He's used to it. Fumbling the catch, dropping the ball and falling flat on his face. But this was important, and two people that he cared about he'd let down. Conrad he couldn't express how sorry he was, but...David was here, and he could do that.

"I'm sorry."

The ache is back. It doesn't leave, this time, instead making it feel like there's pressure inside of the vacant space in his chest.

"C'mere." He jerks his chin toward the door, more invitation than order. He steps forward and offers Hanna one hand, gesturing for him to get up. "Let's get some air."

"I-" He almost says no, feels like just sitting alone in his room for a bit even if he'd asked him to come over, but why deny David? Hanna might feel horrible about what happened, but he's sure that he feels worse. He's not going to let him down more.

He takes his hand, shoving his communicator in his pocket before glancing around to find his shoes, "Gimme a sec."

Slipping the tired old vans on, Hanna shrugs on his jacket and he's ready to go, looking small and tired next to the taller man.

He leads the way, quietly, with the occasional glance to make sure Hanna is keeping up. Every once in a while David's hand drifts to the small of Hanna's back, a reminder to himself that Hanna is real as much as a guiding touch into the elevator, out onto the deck.

David stops at the rail. After a moment, he says, "Why do you think it was your fault, what happened?"

Hanna walks silently, hands in his pockets. He's usually not so quiet, but he feels a little sick, thinking about it, what David might want to say. Whether it's just to yell at him, or try and absolve him of his guilt, he doesn't know which one would be worse.

He stops next to him, folding his arms as he leans against the rail, not glancing up when the other man asks his question, just staring out into the abyss of stars.

"I tried, and I failed. If I hadn't tried, then I wouldn't have failed, but it was worth it to try." It was always worth it to try. "Someone has to take the blame for it."

Edited 2024-11-28 21:23 (UTC)

He gives him a long, long look, brows twitched together into a frown.

"And if you hadn't tried?"

"Then there'd be something wrong with me." Because he can't imagine ever seeing something like the Narrenschiff, Caleb and Conrad, and not wanting to help.

He pauses, nods, leans forward with both hands gripping the rail.

"You'll have to help me out here, I'm not the best with math and things like that. If you hadn't tried, there'd be something wrong with you. But you did try. And you failed. So there's-- something wrong with you? It's your fault."

Edited 2025-01-02 06:32 (UTC)

There is a soft snort, Hanna shaking his head. "You say that like I am." But he'll try and explain it, he supposes.

"Nothing wrong with trying. Something wrong with failing miserably and I dunno if you've noticed but everything I touch seems to just fall apart. If I didn't know any better I'd say I'm cursed, but I've fucking checked and I know I'm not. So the problem left is me."

David shifts his weight so he can look at Hanna. Can't help thinking how quickly he would wash out of basic training. He doubts Hanna is the type to enlist, like, ever, but still. The physicality of it would probably kick the redhead's ass.

But that said--

"Funny thing about failing is you haven't until you stop trying."

Like he has, David realizes. Like he has, letting himself slip into the dark again. Letting himself slip into the dark in the first place. That's an odd thought.

"You've tried to help people and it hasn't gone the way you wanted. But you keep trying to help people. You won't give it up." A pause. "I've killed almost everyone I know, and I'll probably kill more people who don't deserve it."

David frowns, a thought nibbling its way up from the depths, not quite clear enough to pin down yet. He makes a little hand gesture that he hopes buys him a moment to figure it out.

"I'll kill more, and I'm not even trying to fight it. So of the two of us, which one actually has something wrong with them? You're the one who hasn't given up on caring."

Hanna isn't sure that he believes that. He's fucked up so many times only to get back up again, but that was because-

"I did stop. I stopped trying for a while, actually. But the only thing that got me was nothing, and what good is it, being alive If you give nothing and get nothing?" If that was all he was doing, he should have just listened to her, stopped fighting to stay alive and let himself bleed out on that kitchen floor.

Pulling himself up to sit on the railing, tangling his legs between the bars so he doesn't fall, he can catch David's eyes easier, not at all shying away from his violent confessions. He works with vampires, the paranormal tends to give you some tolerance for violence even if he wasn't well equipped to handle it himself.

"Took alienating myself from anyone who could and would have helped me to come to that conclusion. A social murder suicide if you'll excuse the comparison, I know it doesn't quite match up. But I get it. I just got to the part where I needed to shoot myself and couldnt do it. All that came to mind was 'What a god damn waste.' But just cause I'm still here doesnt win me any fucking awards. Ive gotten people killed because I couldnt keep shit under control. I lost you Caleb, and this is the what, third time I've completely let down Conrad? Trying isn't good enough, and it never will be without some follow through that matters."

David frowns. There's a logical thread there to pick at, to pull on, but it occurs to him that logic doesn't mean much if someone doesn't believe in it.

"Caleb was there because I killed him," he says, and it's hard to get the words out, hard less because of conditioning than the fact that they're true. He doesn't give context, can't, but there it is. "Could go back and forth all day about which of us has done worse by people. I'm not talking about winning awards or..."

There's a twinge of frustration, but not at Hanna. It's at how stupid he himself is, how hard it is to put things into words.

"Do you ask people to help you, with this stuff? Share the planning or the execution? Or do you just... try to solo the whole thing?"

"Yeah well from what I saw he forgave you for that. Or maybe you did." He wasn't exactly clear on whether he had to kill Caleb or whether Caleb had asked him to, but when you can't help yourself and are being driven by compulsion and instinct? He's got heaps of sympathy.

"If I do it myself it's better that way. No one else to blame but me." That and he's not the best at teamwork, not like that. He had barely started to get a chance to work that muscle again. A little hard to be used to sharing your stupid plans when there was no one around to bounce them off of.

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