[ He's gone somewhere else, she can tell just from the barest shift in his expression. Is that what she looked like? It's a little unnerving. Somewhere just beyond her attention, the Sans-who-isn't laughs, loud and derisive.
But that's all right. Miles can't hear him. Whatever he's seeing now, it's just the two of them in this room. She just wishes, rather desperately, that she knew what to say. She squeezes his hand. ]
Do you-- Do you ever lose track of what's real? [ And is that even a question she should have asked? She wishes she knew how to be like him, how to tug him back from whatever edge he's listing towards. ]
[ miles isn't so far gone that a squeeze of his hand doesn't bring him back to the moment, and he blinks out of the memory up at lara. he opens his mouth to answer but he hovers in silence a moment instead, closing his mouth to frown slightly in thought. ]
Sometimes, in a sense. Maybe -- maybe not so much what's real and not real so much as what's real in context. What's real right now.
[ he's rambling again without even realizing it -- he often doesn't -- but this time he looks more in danger of getting lost in thought than in memory. this is about the point in the conversation where he ought to be shutting his mouth and changing the subject, but he's been increasingly lost on this topic in particular. and today has just been so damn exhausting -- he doesn't quite have the energy to remember to check himself where he should. ]
It can get hard to remember, under the right -- wrong circumstances. It's a parallel process, keeping track, and when the tracks run too close together... [ he waves a hand vaguely and tilts his head up at lara, tapping a finger lightly to his temple. ] It's all about context, y'see. Context keeps you grounded. It's easy to lose track when you lose your context.
[ He's lost her entierly, though she does try to follow along. He's looking at her at least, that's... Probably a start. She is entierly out of her depth here, but she forges ahead anyway. ]
I don't understand... What do you mean by context?
Context is everything. It determines how you act and when, the words you use, who you are -- you can't just exist in a vacuum. It's impossible. And it's so easy to lose track of who you're supposed to be when you're neither here nor there...
[ miles lets himself trail off as he realizes where he's going with this, and he coughs, embarrassed. dammit, he's supposed to be helping her here. he lets out a self-conscious laugh. ]
Sorry, I've lost you. I don't usually wear my crazy on my sleeve like that. [ he gives her a rueful smile with a touch of well-worn self-deprecation. ] Don't worry about it.
[ he glances back at his desk where he assumes not-sans still is, seeing nothing, but not without understanding. he clasps lara's hand a little tighter. ]
Anyway -- you can stay here as long as you like. If you like. I mean -- I'm not going to make you stay, but if you need... [ anything? ] If you need to, you can hang out in here. I don't mind.
[ She smiles, a ghost of the ones she gave him last night, but still there. ]
You're my friend. I'm afraid worrying about you comes with the territory. [ She's said it already, but it bears repeating, because being a friend to her means.. So many things. More than she knows how to put into words. Not-Sans voice pushes at her mind, but the words don't break through. Lara lifts their joined hands and presses a soft, dry kiss to the back of Miles'. A confirmation and a promise of all the things she can't put into words (Like he wants that from some crazy chick). ]
[ ah, that smile -- he'd like to bring it out of her in full again, watch her face bloom with warmth like it had last night. it teases a faint echo of his own smile, his chest swelling a little at the chaste press of her lips to the back of his hand. oh, he's well-versed in hearing the unspoken. ]
Likewise. I've resigned myself to it.
[ he gives her a wry little smile, a quirk of the lips. he returns the gesture, lifting her hand to his lips to press a light kiss to the backs of her knuckles. but he wasn't expecting that entreaty from her, that honest desire to know -- most people don't. largely because when miles is crazy in other people's direction, they tend to steer away, which is fair. there's a moment of muted surprise on his face before he blinks it away with a little twinge in his chest, because he knows he's said too much now. dammit. but that someone else to know...
he wonders if lara would like admiral naismith. ]
I don't know how much I can really say about it, but -- I'll try. [ there's no lie in those words. he'll tell her everything he can without giving himself away any more than he already has. he smiles just faintly. ] Thank you, Lara.
[ She nods, understanding. If she notices his surprise, she doesn't say anything. Given the amount of times Miles has unwittingly plunged feet first into the tangled mess of Lara's own mad grief and trauma, she wants to do something to ease a little of the weight of his own. ]
You're welcome.
[ From Miles' desk comes Not-Sans' derisive snort. Neurotics build castles in the sky, psychotics live in them, psychiatrists collect the rent. Lara resists the urge to pull a face at him, but the desk still gets a slight frown. ]
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no subject
But that's all right. Miles can't hear him. Whatever he's seeing now, it's just the two of them in this room. She just wishes, rather desperately, that she knew what to say. She squeezes his hand. ]
Do you-- Do you ever lose track of what's real? [ And is that even a question she should have asked? She wishes she knew how to be like him, how to tug him back from whatever edge he's listing towards. ]
no subject
Sometimes, in a sense. Maybe -- maybe not so much what's real and not real so much as what's real in context. What's real right now.
[ he's rambling again without even realizing it -- he often doesn't -- but this time he looks more in danger of getting lost in thought than in memory. this is about the point in the conversation where he ought to be shutting his mouth and changing the subject, but he's been increasingly lost on this topic in particular. and today has just been so damn exhausting -- he doesn't quite have the energy to remember to check himself where he should. ]
It can get hard to remember, under the right -- wrong circumstances. It's a parallel process, keeping track, and when the tracks run too close together... [ he waves a hand vaguely and tilts his head up at lara, tapping a finger lightly to his temple. ] It's all about context, y'see. Context keeps you grounded. It's easy to lose track when you lose your context.
no subject
I don't understand... What do you mean by context?
no subject
[ miles lets himself trail off as he realizes where he's going with this, and he coughs, embarrassed. dammit, he's supposed to be helping her here. he lets out a self-conscious laugh. ]
Sorry, I've lost you. I don't usually wear my crazy on my sleeve like that. [ he gives her a rueful smile with a touch of well-worn self-deprecation. ] Don't worry about it.
[ he glances back at his desk where he assumes not-sans still is, seeing nothing, but not without understanding. he clasps lara's hand a little tighter. ]
Anyway -- you can stay here as long as you like. If you like. I mean -- I'm not going to make you stay, but if you need... [ anything? ] If you need to, you can hang out in here. I don't mind.
no subject
You're my friend. I'm afraid worrying about you comes with the territory. [ She's said it already, but it bears repeating, because being a friend to her means.. So many things. More than she knows how to put into words. Not-Sans voice pushes at her mind, but the words don't break through. Lara lifts their joined hands and presses a soft, dry kiss to the back of Miles'. A confirmation and a promise of all the things she can't put into words (Like he wants that from some crazy chick). ]
Tell me later? Please. I want to understand.
no subject
Likewise. I've resigned myself to it.
[ he gives her a wry little smile, a quirk of the lips. he returns the gesture, lifting her hand to his lips to press a light kiss to the backs of her knuckles. but he wasn't expecting that entreaty from her, that honest desire to know -- most people don't. largely because when miles is crazy in other people's direction, they tend to steer away, which is fair. there's a moment of muted surprise on his face before he blinks it away with a little twinge in his chest, because he knows he's said too much now. dammit. but that someone else to know...
he wonders if lara would like admiral naismith. ]
I don't know how much I can really say about it, but -- I'll try. [ there's no lie in those words. he'll tell her everything he can without giving himself away any more than he already has. he smiles just faintly. ] Thank you, Lara.
no subject
You're welcome.
[ From Miles' desk comes Not-Sans' derisive snort. Neurotics build castles in the sky, psychotics live in them, psychiatrists collect the rent. Lara resists the urge to pull a face at him, but the desk still gets a slight frown. ]