shipmaster | (no subject)

[ Miles hesitates a fraction of a beat. ]

You've seen the results yourself, haven't you? All the results are fine. I'm recovering quite well.

Good.. I'm glad. [He lets out a long breath.]

Are you staying long?

[ That's the million Betan dollar question isn't it. Miles himself doesn't know the answer to that. He folds his hands in his lap, looking down at the floor. ]

Cordelia wants me to stay until I have my head sorted out. That seems wise enough.

[ This time, he doesn't even notice the slip of the tongue he's made. ]

[It's less of a slip and more of a gulf. There'd always been a gap, a certain inability to communicate that lingered well into adulthood. Left them with grand gestures but so few simple, common words. Like love. Or proud. Or need.

And nothing for how to address THIS. He didn't even know the emotion it brought up, too complicated to term it to one word.]

She often is. Wise, that is.

[The feeling that there should be words here, something to push the right way, stir the right thing... But nothing came. He simply settled for:]

... In the mean time, get some rest.

[ The feeling of wrongness that settles over him at that is stark. Not at their odd, clouded relationship - that much is normal - but at that strange look he observes on Aral's face. On his father's face. On -

He swallows thickly, looking back down again. ]

If I rest any more the bed may swallow me up. I was hoping to visit the stables.

[ And he abruptly realizes that this is the last thing he wants to do to try and remember. If at the end of this he still feels alien ... then he's going to quietly find the next ship out and disappear. ]

That is a good idea. [The Count's face warms slightly. A hope in contrast to Miles' sinking feelings.]

Fat Ninny's in the VIP stall at the moment. Roic can help with the tack. [Not said, but powerfully loud anyway was the "if you've forgotten."]

[ He kind of has. Realizing that fact makes him pale slightly more. ]

All right. I'll pay him a visit then. He likely remembers better than I do.

Belike.

[He sinks back into the small mountain of pillows that had been set up around him for the recovery just. To gather himself again.]

Miles. [Another hesitation, this one longer.] If this does mean beginning over, that's welcome too.

So you know.

[ Miles takes in a sharp little breath at that. Start over? The thought is simultaneously comforting and terrifying. From what he remembers of Aral, he expects the man means it. But... ]

Isn't it a little late for that? [ He stares steadily ahead, seeing nothing. ] It can't possibly be easy on you two either.

[That catches an ironic smile.]

I've never been in it for easy.

Well - no, but --

[ Miles looks at Aral's chest rather bluntly. ]

You need to recover too. I know Cordelia didn't send me in here to make your life more difficult.

I'll let the physicians worry about it. They'd be bored otherwise.

How could they be with both of us convalescing?

[That gets answered by a straight out grumble.]

Hmph. They could find a better to do that than be underfoot.

[ Miles snorts at that. Not unsympathetic, oh no ... ]

Then get better quicker, and spite the bastards for keeping you in bed.

[Possibly because they are AMAZING patients the same way.]

You sound like your mother.

Did she say the same thing? Then maybe we have a point, you know.

[This is a decidedly disgruntled sound. One of his square hands waves through the air, dismissing the sentiment entirely.]

... I'll trade you a day's rest for two of yours.

....

You hardly fight fair.

[By which he means, yes.]

[ Miles smiles genuinely at that. For the first time since he came in the room. ]

If I fought fair, I wouldn't be here right now.

[He snorts. The smile was in his eyes, if not his expression.]

That's the truth.

...

Go on, ahead. But I'm holding you to that.

The same to you.

[ If he doesn't decide to escape after all. Miles slowly gets up, then, and turns to head for the door. ]

[The turned back did give him enough of a guard to settle back. Damn too-small heart... it was clearly the reason why the sight of Miles walking out the door made him so tired.]

[ Clearly. Miles' back recedes into the hallway, and then disappears entirely. Next - and last - is the stables.

He heads out into the fresh air after a moment's pause, soaking in a much-needed burst of warmth. It hadn't gone as bad as he'd thought, but he still feels terribly strung out all the same. Later he's going to have a headache, he's sure of it ... A flick of his wristcomm brings up Bel's line. ]

I'm all done. Meet me at the stables when you're ready.