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[ K catches the continued rubbing in his peripheral vision but doesn't comment. Instead, Royce will find himself being handed a bowl of the soy sauce mixture and a spoon. ] Stir that together, please. [ Not a difficult task, but it'll keep his hands occupied. And then K returns to the kitchen to check the heating pan. ]

Protecting me from the paranoid doctor? [ Not bothering to mask his amusement. Yes, he's picked up on John's paranoia too. ] Is he prejudiced against— AIs, androids?

[ Oh. Okay, he can do that. He concentrates on mixing, just an idle movement to keep his hands busy. He appreciates it - it's more subtle than what Alfie does, which is to just reach over to take Royce's hands and hold them. ]

You don't need protecting, you're not a fainting maiden. [ Royce says, glancing up at him. ] I don't know if he is or not. He seemed to like Winter fine. I just know he can be difficult to deal with.

And by difficult I mean nosy. Can't mind his own business to save his life.

[ He just isn't going to mention the fact he's felt close to fainting because of the headaches a time or two; he appreciates that Royce doesn't consider him weak. ]

Oh. He actually treated my hand before. After he'd burned it. [ Which had been unexpectedly nice, but he still isn't sure he really wants Dr. Watson examining him. Maybe if they knew each other better. ] I think he was too distracted at the time to pry much, it's when he was a... gun. [ A Weapon, specifically. Or something like that. ]

Mm, the only thing that stops the nosiness is guilt. [ Royce says wryly. ] If he ever gets too into your business, bring up the fact that he burned you. He'll stop.

He's not a bad man. Not the worst I've ever met. Just an annoying one. [ This is a good distraction, actually. ]

It wasn't his fault. He warned me it might happen. [ And he's still secretly pleased it did happen — according to Watson's explanation, it's essentially confirmation he has a soul. Sort of. A soul wave length, at least, one that doesn't align with Watson's. ]

I know how he feels about you wishing for the memories. [ He'd seen the bulletin board, like he'd said. ] But he'd still help you, wouldn't he? If you needed it. [ The sort of help best given by a licensed doctor, that is. ]

He would. He has. [ Royce sighs. ] Like I said. He's decent enough that for the most part, he won't let you die even if he disagrees with you.

He's just preachy. I lost interest in hearing someone lecture me for survival when they don't know the circumstances years and years ago.

[ That's reassuring to know — that Watson, and of course Alfie, would be willing to help Royce. Maybe Renart and Monty too. Whether Royce will accept the help is another matter, but at least he has the option.

Once everything's ready to go, K takes back the bowl from him and begins the actual stir-frying process, alternating between adding ingredients and mixing it all together with the sort of relaxed ease that suggests he's done this a lot. ]

Preachy about more than just the memories? [ He pauses briefly, considering whether or not to share some of what's still been bothering him about the Libra Station business; it pertains to Watson, and another Norfinbury transplant. Maybe Royce will understand. ] He seemed to care more about the... digital copies of humans, than anything else. [ And Watson was hardly alone there. Even Alfie had seemed to, unless he was simply being argumentative for argument's sake. And that leads him to: ]

And Dr. Strange with his brilliant suggestion that I had already been attempting to do from day one. Sought help on the bulletin board, which went ignored. But suddenly everyone cares when he brings it up. [ There's a faint but definite note of anger in his voice, but mostly he just sounds weary. He's so used to being treated that way it probably isn't worth being upset over. ]

[ Royce keeps his eyes on the stir frying process, trying not to get too lost in his own thoughts, trying not to leave K here in the present. He thinks over what he wants to say for a moment, leaning against the counter - he'd wandered in when K had taken the bowl back from him, reluctant to be entirely on his own in the other room. ]

Men who call themselves heroes and saviors tend to surround themselves with cheerleaders who kiss their feet.

I don't have an explanation for you as far as either of them go. But if it helps, I think it is because more people know Stephen because he's nosy and in people's business, not because of any sort of dislike for androids or you. People run in packs. They only respond to what is familiar to them.

Maybe. I've noticed people from Norfinbury prefer to stick together in general. And I understand why, after what you've all been through together. [ It's said thoughtfully and not as a condemnation. He's considering Royce's words. He also tends to err on the side of assuming his emotions aren't real or valid, which makes dismissing his own feelings easier. After a moment his shoulders slump a little in acceptance. ] You're probably right.

[ The meal preparation is quick; within a few minutes he's dividing it all between two plates. Fetching a couple forks, he offers one of the plates to Royce. ]

Wine? [ He guesses, already reaching for the Montemorcey ~~assuming Royce has sent some over by now~~. ]

[ He takes the plate offered to him, looking down at it for a long moment. He'll also accept the offer of wine, because of course he's delivered it over here. While K is grabbing it, Royce speaks up again. ]

I might be right, or I might be wrong. Either way, I hope you don't take that as invalidation. [ He says, glancing up at K. ] I would've been upset if my idea had been taken and popularized by someone else. If you felt upset, my intention was to make you feel better, not tell you that you shouldn't.

It's all right. I didn't take it that way. I think your insight's more likely to be correct, you know them all much better than I do. [ And not for a lack of trying. But K doesn't assume everyone's robophobic, it's more likely down to clashing personalities — well, what passes for a personality in his case. He didn't exactly come programmed with one, and sometimes it's made painfully apparent, like with his struggle to form genuine, close friendships.

The wine and a wine glass are set on the coffee table for Royce, a glass of water for himself, and then he returns to his place on the couch. It's more comfortable than the kitchen table. ]

I appreciate hearing your opinions.

[ But he's still probably going to hide behind logic to ignore his feelings, because it's always been safer that way. ]

Not that much better. [ Royce argues under his breath, almost petulant. Either way, he follows K to the living room, and sits on the floor in front of the coffee table. He takes the wine, glances between it and K's glass of water, and then sets it down to grab his plate instead.

At least he's distracted. ]

I appreciate hearing yours. [ Royce says, firmly. ]

[ Royce setting his wine down gets a curious look. Maybe K should've poured himself a glass? It hadn't occurred to him that drinking alone might be awkward.

The distraction does seem good. But at the same time, especially considering their current conversation, he wants Royce to feel comfortable coming to him, too, if he ever wants help. Or to talk about those difficult memories. K had meant what he'd said before — he cares. He'd like to be someone Royce feels he can rely on. ]

Do your hands often bother you?

[ He asks at length. Do the memories often bother Royce, he means. ]

[ Royce takes a bite of his food - it's good, and it makes him feel a little better to have something in his stomach. Soothes the anxiety a bit. He's quiet for a moment, focusing on just the plate in front of him for a moment, and then he answers. ]

Not often, but more than I'd like. There's nothing there. No scars. But I can remember them. Around my fingers and on my tongue, too. [ He plays with his food a bit, still looking down. He trusts K enough to tell him, because he's told K things like this before - K has been good about it, respectful. ] There are things I've been unable to do because those things remind me of losing limbs. That bothers me.

[ Don't mind K going to get another wine glass while he listens. It's only a moment before he's back and pouring both of them some wine, hoping his instincts were correct as he nudges Royce's glass closer to him.

There's the urge to ask for specifics about what Royce has been unable to do, but he always tries to keep that "you ask a lot of questions" remark in mind. There are ways to converse without making it sound like an interrogation. His inexperience just makes it hard, sometimes. ]

I hope playing the piano isn't unpleasant for you. [ Because it involves a whole lot of concentrated focus on his fingers. ] It's okay if you want to hold off on lessons for a while. When I first noticed Alfie's hands... [ The inexplicable shaking after wishing for the memories. ] He was clear about not needing my help. I won't take it personally if you decline, too, but — I'd like you to know the offer's there, if I can help in any way.

Edited 2019-05-09 09:36 (UTC)

[ Royce looks confused for a second when K stands up - but he gets it quick enough. K's instinct was right; Royce wasn't comfortable drinking alone, so when K grabs his own, he feels a little less like a lush. He takes the glass, sipping at it carefully. ]

The piano is fine. It's a reminder that I have all of my fingers. [ He says wryly. As for the offer of help, Royce pauses, and then: ] I won't decline, necessarily, but - I don't know that there's much you can do about it directly. It's a fear that I have to overcome myself.

[ He swirls the wine in his glass absently. ] Hunting has really been the only obstacle I've faced. And it's not even the hunting that bothers me, it's the skinning the animals after.

[ When Royce finally has some of the wine, K's privately rather pleased that he must've guessed correctly. He's learning.

At least it's a gentle sort-of-rejection of his offer. He can appreciate that, even if it's disappointing. Far preferable to taking offense. ]

And doing the skinning for you wouldn't help? [ Maybe a little avoidance wouldn't exactly be a bad thing right now. ]

[ He looks uncomfortable at the idea. ]

I - appreciate where the thought is coming from. [ Royce says, haltingly. ] You want to help. And it would be helpful, but it - it would make me feel like a child. Useless and humiliated, to not be able to do something that I've never had a problem with before.

[ He rubs at the bridge of his nose, and then takes another sip of wine. ]

You can help in other ways, if you really find the need to. The piano lessons help. Doing the things I can't do, for me - I just. [ He's embarrassed. That's mostly what it is. ]

[ Now K's regretting already showing his hand, since it means he can't get away with delivering butchered meat to Royce or Alfie under the pretense of having too much and not wanting it to spoil. Well, he still could, but he hardly wants to make Royce feel worse about his situation. ]

Accepting help when it's needed isn't a weakness. [ He idly comments as he sits back, trying some of the stir-fry now himself. It's not weakness, it's survival as far as he's concerned. But he does understand it's different for people who've been socialised to think and act certain ways, particularly when it comes to masculinity and all the many unhealthy ways it's expressed. The insecurities of emotionally fragile human men are not fun to be on the receiving end of, something he knows from experience. ]

Would you mind company when you hunt, or just— when you do the skinning? I wouldn't get in your way or do it for you. [ He'd just... be there. ] Like on the space station. Being reminded of where you were and what was going on seemed to help you. [ He adds, quieter, hoping it won't embarrass Royce. There's no reason to be embarrassed. ]

[ There's no getting past the embarrassment - he was a hardened killer in Elan, he's dismembered what feels like hundreds of people, and it never fucked him up this badly before. But there's something that's different about living through the attempt of having someone do it to you. Something different about laying in a cell, forgetting who you are, missing limbs and being unable to speak - it was the worst of Manzant, compressed into four days. Another sip of wine, and then he puts the glass down to massage at his fingers again. He's starting to look slightly humiliated, sinking down slightly. ]

I -- [ He starts, and then stops. A beat, as he clears his throat, looking down at his bowl. ] If you really want to be there, I suppose I don't mind.

[ He knows K wants to help. He doesn't want to discourage that, he doesn't want to make K feel bad, but it's like making his way through a minefield. One wrong step, and it'll end up with K feeling as if his help is being pushed away because he's not human. That isn't the case. Royce just isn't sure how to put it clearly. ]

I know you don't believe me, but just being around and distracting me from it, or letting me talk about it - that helps plenty.

[ The reaction makes him furrow his brow as he watches Royce with obvious concern, but he isn't convinced his offer was the wrong direction to take this. Maybe he's just the wrong one making the offer. Maybe it needs to come from someone Royce is close with, someone he actually trusts.

He's quiet for a long moment, before eventually looking away, staring down at his lap instead and absently picking at his food. ]

I can believe it helps. It helps me, too. I'm sorry I've made you uncomfortable.

You can tell me "no," it's all right. You basically already did. [ He adds with a brief glance toward Royce. ] I realise... it should be someone you're more comfortable with, if anyone accompanies you. Alfie isn't bothered by the skinning, is he? [ He'd be the obvious first choice for Royce, K assumes. ] And I'm sure Renart wouldn't be. Or Gabriel — he still shares his meat with me, so I know he isn't bothered. [ And K knows they're close. He's glad for it, even if part of him is also a little sad assuming he'll never be that for Royce — someone to trust. Royce presumably already has enough people who could help him, it isn't like he even needs another. ]

Edited 2019-05-13 10:15 (UTC)

[ Royce shakes his head, abruptly. ]

I don't want anybody there with me. [ He says, finally. He looks down at his fingers. ] I don't want Alfie there, or Renart, or Gabriel. It's embarrassing. [ His voice gets unsteadier, here. ] It has nothing to do with who I'm comfortable with. I don't need anybody looking at me like I'm --

[ He stops, and takes his wine again. ] It needs to stop happening. I will make it stop happening, and then it won't be an issue.

[ ... Oh. Of course. That makes sense. A matter of — pride, then. He's back to watching Royce for another long moment before he responds. ]

What happened in that corridor of the Libra Station plays out in my dreams most nights. [ He says quietly. ] Each moment stretched out so the details become magnified. Inescapable. [ And he opts to keep those details to himself. It's unfortunate for a whole host of reasons, not least of which being that his bad nights have also been costing Connor his rest. But he isn't sharing this to make Royce feel worse, more as a reminder. These problems won't make K suddenly treat or look at him differently. ]

Embarrassing. [ He's smiling faintly as he glances down. It isn't funny. It's more — a relief, that it isn't something worse. Embarrassment can be dealt with. ] I think you'll survive that, if you have to. It does need to stop happening. And if I can directly help with that, or make it easier in any way, I'd still like to.

[ Possibly counteract how guilty and helpless the memories and dreams make him feel, too. But mainly for Royce's sake. ]

[ He's surprised, actually - he glances up at K with a confused look when K mentions he's had dreams about what happened in the Libra Station. He would've thought - well, he would've thought that would be nothing, for someone like K. It's kind of nice, in a way. Horrible, yes, and Royce wouldn't want him to continue having the dreams, but - it affected K. ]

... Yeah, okay. [ He says finally, taking a sip of wine. He holds the glass in both hands, staring down into it. ] If you have any suggestions on how to make it stop happening, I'm all ears.

[ He shifts, frowning down into his glass. Quieter: ] I'm sorry you have dreams about the Station.

[ Nightmares aren't a new phenomenon and at least he knows how to handle them. With how much he's been forced to repress in his short life, it isn't surprising when something haunts his subconscious mind like this. And as long as he doesn't have to submit to any baseline tests again... ]

Short of having Zephyr remove the memories, keep facing them, I guess. [ Because obviously Royce shouldn't just give into the fear and give up hunting altogether. ] I know you don't want anybody with you, but I'd like to be. At least once. See how it goes. [ If it doesn't actually help Royce or if his presence makes everything worse, that'll be that. K won't ask to accompany him hunting again. Leaning back, he keeps his eyes down as he eats but his smile will probably give him away. ]

You said being distracted from it helps. What kind of distractions? [ Aside from piano lessons, of course. And it isn't just meant as teasing. ]

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