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» WHO? Alex, Amos, Naomi, Bobbie, Prax
» WHEN? Day 8 and catchall for may
» WHERE? Wandering around the Station
» WHAT? The crew of the Roci goes hunting for their missing members
» WARNINGS? Alex is going to get stuck in a door and there might be some violence initiated to try to get him out. Also: Catchall for other Roci crew threads.

It felt a hell of a lot better, to have the three of them all together. Amos had a few days alone, and Alex was all too glad that hadn't been him. He'd only had a day to wonder how the hell he got there and where the rest of his crew was, before he found Amos. Then a couple days later they'd found Naomi. He was confident, now, that it was only a matter of time before they found the others - Holden and Prax. The cap and the plant guy. Alex hadn't even noticed when Prax had officially become someone he counted as crew. As family. It didn't matter. He was, now. And that meant that Alex was just as keen on finding him as he was on finding Holden.

He wanted to find the Roci, too, but he didn't have a hell of a lot of hope, for that one. Whoever or whatever had brought them here didn't seem too eager to give them a way out. He hated it - hated the idea that he was separated from her, that he didn't know where she was or who had her - but right now Holden and Prax were more important. Once they were all together, they could work on getting the ship back.

They'd started with the top floor and worked their way down. No door was left unopened (when they would open at all), no proverbial stone unturned. Despite the fact that they'd gone through a few floors, now, Alex was undeterred. They could still find them. And even if they didn't, that didn't mean they weren't on the station. Apollo's image had made it clear there was a hell of a lot more to this place than they had access to. So maybe they were being held somewhere else. But that didn't mean they weren't gonna try.

"Alright, I'll take this row," He said amiably, as if calling sides in a game of foot ball, walking towards a row of doors. He tried to open the first one, locked, and went for the next. "Anyone want to lay bets for what sort of person we accidentally walk in on, next?"

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[ It sure was cliffnotes, but luckily Alex had been mixed up in this shit for long enough now that he could still follow it. He frowned, looking down into his drink, aimlessly fiddling with the ring on his finger while he considered it.]

The Razorback. God damn. [ He nearly pulled the ring off, but slid it back on and reached for the bottle once she was done with it, instead.]

No wonder we picked you up. Must've been like seein' a ghost.

[Whatever she was going to say in response gets sidetracked when she sees exactly what he's fiddling with.]

What's with the ring?

[ The question sidetracks him, too, and he looks up with genuine confusion for a few seconds. ]

What? [ Then he registers where her eyes are and looks down. ]

Oh. Right. [ He waves his hand a bit. ] Wedding ring.

Edited (i can spell shut up) 2018-05-23 01:25 (UTC)

Oh. I've never seen you wearing it before.

[Which is... weird.]

[ He gave her a hard look for a few seconds, the alcohol in his system not letting that sink in very fast, his brow furrowed.

Slowly, though, it registered.

He doubted very much that it was because he'd lost it.

He looked back down at his hand, flexing his fingers and then curling them again, before grabbing his glass and tipping back his drink.

There was only one reason he would stop wearing it. And he had the sinking feeling he knew exactly what it was.

He couldn't help the low huff as he set down his empty glass, halfway between a laugh and a scoff.]

Yeah. Well.

Guess I finally manned up and reached out.

[Alright, she's clearly stepped in something here. She hesitates, not sure if she should drop it or give him the chance to talk if he wants.

Shit. Well, here goes nothing.]

What do you mean, reached out?

[ The weight of it all made his shoulders slump a little towards his glass, as if the gravity on him was separate to the rest of the station. He didn't look up at Bobbie, instead just fiddling with the empty glass, the ring on his finger glinting with light whenever he turned his hand.

God damn it.

He wasn't sure he wanted to talk about it, but at the same time, he needed to. He couldn't talk to Amos about it - the guy loved to be flippant as all hell about his marriage anyway. Naomi was out, he could hear the disapproving sighs from here. Prax - Prax didn't need to know what a failure of a father he was.

So, there was Bobbie, who he both knew and didn't know, even though she knew him. Knew things about him, about his life, that he didn't even know yet.

He let out a hard breath. ]

They thought I was dead. When we got picked up by the Donnager, they scanned our IDs and I got pinged as Martian Navy. Discharged, but Navy all the same. So I was on the roster, when it blew.

[He shoved his glass around with his fingers, scraping it against the bar.]

... Never called home. Figured - they hadn't seen me in five years. Thought it might be a mercy, just thinkin' I was dead. And with everythin' going on, there was a pretty high chance I'd end up that way anyway.

[Bobbie doesn't sigh disapprovingly or brush him off. It sounds like a terrible idea, and she's pretty sure you're not supposed to let your wife think you're dead, but she isn't married. She has no idea what their relationship was like. She finds she can't really judge him for it, so instead, she grabs the bottle and fills his glass again. Maybe she should leave well enough alone, but she doesn't quite understand his logic.]

Why'd you think that would be better?

[ He doesn't reply right away, watching the liquid pour into his glass at that strange angle that station rotation gave it, then watched it slosh around in the glass for a few seconds.

Then he raised the glass to his lips, pausing before it actually touched them. ]

Better to be a dead hero than a living failure, am I right?

[ He tipped back the shot. ]

[Bobbie studies him for a moment, then fills her own glass, though she doesn't drink. Of all the answers she was expecting, that certainly wasn't one of them.]

A failure, huh? I don't think I got that memo, sailor.

Yeah, well.

[He reached for the bottle again. He'd lost count of what number this was. Five? Six? Seven? Whatever, he'd sleep it off later.]

Pilotin' the Roci's the first time I ever felt like I was in the right place. Like everything just - god damn clicked. I spent twenty years in the Navy tryin' to feel like I was meant to be there, but every time I was up here I wanted to be home and every time I was home...

[He poured out the shot, shaking his head.]

Then I finished my twenty, ended up full time back under a dome. Wife, kid, shoulda been the perfect life. Only it wasn't. Couldn't stand not being up here. Spent every damn night dreamin' about it. Even when I was there I wasn't there.

[He raised his glass and took a drink - not the whole thing this time, at least.]

... So I left. Went to go fly in the belt.

Don't know how else you'd spin that, Gunny. I was never the man they needed me to be. But hell, I didn't even know what the hell kind of man I was.

But I do now.

[A few months ago, Bobbie wouldn't have had any idea what he meant. The marines did click for her instantly, and she would have joined up even if it hadn't been compulsory. Now, though, after the leaders she trusted betrayed her, she thinks she has a bit of a better idea.]

That doesn't sound like failing, it sounds like you were trying to force yourself to live a life you didn't want.

[Until he couldn't stand it anymore, at least.]

So what kind of man are you?

I thought I wanted it. [He paused, still staring into his drink.]

No- I did want it. But wantin' somethin' and bein' fit for it ain't the same thing.

[He raised his glass, downing the rest of his drink.]

I'm the god damn pilot of the gunship Rocinante, that's what I am. And a better pilot than they ever let me believe I was. That's where I'm supposed to be.

[ He looked down at his ring, using his thumb to slide it up his finger. ]

Just ain't really possible to be both.

[She watches him do it, twirling the glass between her hands on the bar.]

That's what you want more than anything else, huh?

[It's pretty obvious, and honestly, she agrees with him. It is where he belongs.]

If you didn't tell me, I never would have guessed you didn't always know that.

That's what I want more than anything else.

[It had taken him a long, long time to learn that - but he knew it now.

At the latter, though, he finally turned his head to look at her for the first time she'd mentioned the ring, holding the empty glass in his hand as he considered her. ]

But no ring, right? [ Maybe that's why she saw it so clearly. Maybe Talissa had cut the cord and he'd finally been able to let go and be himself - for whatever that was worth. ]

[She nods.]

I'm sorry.

[And, okay, she'll be real with him.]

I'm not going to lie to you and say I don't think it was stupid for you not to say anything to her, and I don't know what happened, but...

[Bobbie shrugs, still studying him as she twirls her glass again.]

It's better that she knows what you really want, yeah?

[ His eyes fell back to his glass, to his hands, to the ring. Apparently it was possible to feel both relieved and miserable at the same time. What a wonderful set of feelings.

He didn't answer for a long minute, before finally he let go of the glass and pulled the ring off - shoving it into his breast pocket. He considered, for a few seconds, handing it to Bobbie and asking her to keep it for him for a while, but he couldn't. Couldn't quite let that last thread go. But he wasn't going to be able to look at it for a while, either. ]

Right.

[ He poured himself another drink. ]

Now we just need to find the damn Roci.

[ Because he was going to go a bit nuts being station side for too long - even if the station wasn't trying to kill them, too. ]

[Finding the Roci would be a hell of a feat, but Bobbie gets the idea that he's less concerned about the ship and more concerned about deflecting. Instinctively, she reaches over to squeeze his shoulder, voice a bit softer.]

Hey, you okay? You know you can always try to fix things when we get back.

[The touch surprised him, and he looked up at her, blinking. He loved his crew, and, despite whatever Amos claimed, he knew they loved him. But they weren't exactly a physically affectionate bunch. Amos rough housed, sometimes, and Naomi had kissed his cheek once (and blew his mind in the process), but for the most part they all kept themselves to themselves.

Maybe he was just drunk, so things were taking on more significance than they might have otherwise.

He pushed a smile to his face, and though it didn't quite reach his eyes, he tried to make it reassuring. ]

Nah, I'm alright, Gunny. That whole thing's been broken a lot longer than this, and it ain't gonna get fixed. [ That was why death had seemed a simpler story, at the time. ]

For right now, I think I'm just gonna get very drunk. This stuff is almost startin' to taste good."

[Damn, she feels terrible for him. Whatever hand he had in screwing up his marriage aside, it's clear he's heartbroken, and he's doing a terrible job of covering it up. The crew of the Roci is starting to grow on her in general, but she has a particular soft spot for Alex, and she knows it.]

I'm sorry I, uh... Broke it to you that way.

[Clumsily, she means.]

Do you want some company?

Ain't your fault.

[ And it wasn't. He was actually a little touched, that she'd notice something as small as the presence of a ring. ... Alright, on second thought, he wasn't gonna think too deeply about that.

In answer to her second question, he leaned over with the bottle to top off her glass.]

How many before we start singin' the anthem?

[She raises her glass to clink it against his.]

That depends. How deep are you already?

[ Their glasses clicked and then he took a drink, before looking at it with a studious frown, as if he was trying to count in his head.]

Was a couple in before you showed up, then I lost count. Six? Seven?

[ Enough that even if he stopped drinking now, he was just going to get more drunk as the time went on. ]

But hell, bein' drunks a hell of a lot better than hypoxic.

[She snorts.]

Keeping the bar high, huh? If you puke, aim away from me.

[ He gave her a little faux salute and a smile he didn't really feel. ]

Yes, sir.

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