"Uh-" He shouldn't be surprised, should he, that Dorian asks. The Bull had practically offered, answering the way he had. He hadn't really meant to. Hadn't been thinking. He stares at the walls ahead of them, feels the stone against his skin, tries to figure out the right way to answer.
Is it shitty of him to be a little glad the honest answer is also the one that means he doesn't have to bring up any one specific memory? Maybe not. He can still drag it all up in one big ugly wad of crap and maybe Dorian will see the honesty in it all the same, won't think the Bull's trying to wiggle out of uncovering the same parts of himself that Dorian just did.
"You going to think less of me if I tell you I can't remember all their names? You kind of..." 'After year five it kind of starts to blend together' is the course his mouth's trying to run down, and his mind changes itself at the last minute. There's giving a genuine answer, and then there's going down a road that's going to end in a lot more detail than the answer really needs. Hopefully whatever it is he ends up saying instead will be enough.
"I don't know," is the 'whatever' that comes out. Maybe he's not dragging up the whole ugly wad of crap after all. At least, out loud. Who knows, maybe he did. Maybe implying it is enough. "I'm not saying having it happen in front of you is better, but it's... there's something there. You know for sure there's nothing else that you can do. They just don't come back one day, it slows that down. Gives some part of you something else to chew on."
He's quiet for a moment. Focuses on the pain that hasn't let up in his leg, the sound of the brace the Chargers gave him dragging across the stone, the bits of loose rock and dust under his hands. No sound of waves here, no smell of salt and old fish and that one particular kind of spice. Nothing but the dark and his mind still yelling at him about things that aren't worth yelling about, the musty, damp smell of a dark space gone too long without the open air and not being able to enjoy Dorian's ass just a couple feet in front of his face.
The Bull's not exactly safer here and now, but even with the darkspawn, he thinks maybe the company is better.
"You asked Red to look into it? She might be able to get something out of your contact that you can't." And then a little piece of his own crap, in case that makes this feel less like the Bull skipping out on an answer and more like the only answer he has to give: "Sometimes it... changes things a little, once you know for sure. Not every time, but sometimes."
no subject
Is it shitty of him to be a little glad the honest answer is also the one that means he doesn't have to bring up any one specific memory? Maybe not. He can still drag it all up in one big ugly wad of crap and maybe Dorian will see the honesty in it all the same, won't think the Bull's trying to wiggle out of uncovering the same parts of himself that Dorian just did.
"You going to think less of me if I tell you I can't remember all their names? You kind of..." 'After year five it kind of starts to blend together' is the course his mouth's trying to run down, and his mind changes itself at the last minute. There's giving a genuine answer, and then there's going down a road that's going to end in a lot more detail than the answer really needs. Hopefully whatever it is he ends up saying instead will be enough.
"I don't know," is the 'whatever' that comes out. Maybe he's not dragging up the whole ugly wad of crap after all. At least, out loud. Who knows, maybe he did. Maybe implying it is enough. "I'm not saying having it happen in front of you is better, but it's... there's something there. You know for sure there's nothing else that you can do. They just don't come back one day, it slows that down. Gives some part of you something else to chew on."
He's quiet for a moment. Focuses on the pain that hasn't let up in his leg, the sound of the brace the Chargers gave him dragging across the stone, the bits of loose rock and dust under his hands. No sound of waves here, no smell of salt and old fish and that one particular kind of spice. Nothing but the dark and his mind still yelling at him about things that aren't worth yelling about, the musty, damp smell of a dark space gone too long without the open air and not being able to enjoy Dorian's ass just a couple feet in front of his face.
The Bull's not exactly safer here and now, but even with the darkspawn, he thinks maybe the company is better.
"You asked Red to look into it? She might be able to get something out of your contact that you can't." And then a little piece of his own crap, in case that makes this feel less like the Bull skipping out on an answer and more like the only answer he has to give: "Sometimes it... changes things a little, once you know for sure. Not every time, but sometimes."