sciencelizard | « [IC Inbox- Hadriel]

[His hand drops down, clacking against the table surface as he braces the butt of a bony palm against one supraorbital ridge, knotting it down with the screwing shut of one eyesocket.]

Turns out...we ain't so good at talkin' about things. Guess I just got so used to there not bein' a real point in talkin' about things that I figured - why bother, right?

[Why even try.]

[They're both creatures of habit. Motions they both make to calm themselves, old coping mechanisms, failsafes now outdated but with no replacement. Aren't used to other people understanding. Aren't used to even having the option of reaching out.]

Heh, y-yeah. I spent... so long in the lab, not being able to tell anyone, I guess I just... there weren't, uhm, p-people to reach out to, you know?

There should'a been.

[That's on him, ain't it? Seems like a lotta things are, these days, but who's he to tussle with that notion? Makes sense. There should've been people to reach out to. If he'd been there, if he'd given a damn, if he'd tried, just for the cursory nature of it.

He could've. Should have.]

...there's no excuse. For me. For not checkin' up on you.

[She's... actually a little taken aback. That time was so cemented as loneliness, as hiding, it... seems entirely foreign that there was ever an option of someone else being there.]

I mean, I didn't... r-really make myself approachable, you know? You had no reason to think anything was, uhm, wrong. It wasn't your business.

C'mon, Alph. [She makes excuses for him, like he don't do a good enough job of that on his own. A faint laugh, utterly devoid of humor, and he can't quite look her in the eye.]

If I'd checked in, maybe I'd know somethin' was up. Sent a text. Called.

Done something.

Well, I mean, still, I... I should've said something. I kept the doors locked. Didn't a-answer my phone.

[Of course she'll make excuses. She'll make excuses for everyone but herself. What happened down there was uniquely her fault, wasn't it? No one could have pulled her out of that.]

It's not like you could've... I d-don't know. Done some amazing magic and fixed all of it, even if you knew.

Yeah.

[Not like he could'a fixed it. Not like he could'a undone whatever it is she...the things she was so scared of everyone knowing that her double had to be the one to yank the coverlet off the big reveal. Not like hearin' it from her had made any of it better, more bearable.

Wouldn't've made a difference.

But if it was before...before things went to hell, before the anomaly slammed into their lives and spun a recursion so tangled he could never find it in him to unpack it, that would'a changed things, it would'a ensured that their t₀ was better than it was.

No point in fretting over what you can't change. Not now.]

I got no clue what I could'a done. [But he could have at least tried, couldn't he?] But if somethin' happens here, you can at least...you can tell me about it.

['Cause he's just such a fucking well-adjusted rock of sensitivity and capability. Right?]

[She doesn't know how to explain to him what those words mean to her. Alphys pretends she's good at being alone- she's done it so much, she's pushed forward so far, gotten so much done by herself. But she's not. She never has been. She thrives on the encouragement of friends, the comfort of strangers, a smile at a crucial moment, an outstretched hand. All she ever needed was someone else.

But to hear he wants to try too... it's indescribable. The most valuable thing he's ever said.]

You t-too. I mean, if you need it, I...

I appreciate it. Really. And I want to... I want to be m-more open with you, too.

[As if she isn't also an emotional disaster.]

[Look at the two of 'em, right? Regular champions of not saying anything to each other, and not knowing how to broach topics of discussion. As if either of 'em have any kind of reliable metric for how a healthy discussion is meant to work.]

Well, uh...let's work on that.

[It's not much, but it's something. It's the barest effort. The bare minimum of decency.]

I'll - work on that.

We both can.

[She doesn't know how to approach this. Knows he doesn't either. But they're trying. They've both said they're willing to try. That's a step, however small. She lets the silence hang for a few moments, looking towards the counter.]

Uh, well, I made... one p-pancake. If you want it. I guess there's more batter to put stuff in 'em, if we uh, wanted to.

[Seems...pretty characteristic of both of 'em, actually. A meandering conversation full of regrets without any solutions presenting themselves, and a single sad pancake between the pair of 'em.

He'd laugh, but just now, that'd seem like a cruelty.]

Heh. Well, uh...I'll call that a win. 'S good enough, yeah?

[It probably represents them pretty well. They're... bad at solutions. Bad at fixing.

Maybe can get better. Even one pancake is more than no pancakes, right?]

Yeah. I t-think so.

... Thanks again. For talking to me, uh, about this.

...thanks for, uh. For listening.

[The least he can do is talk and listen after dumping all that shit on her shoulders the night prior. He's already full of regrets as far as everything else is concerned.

But at least he ain't screwed this up too much. Yet.]

Of course.

[The least she can do is listen when he comes to her for help. She already wishes she could've done better.

It'll have to be close enough.]

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