[He's lost track of time in the thick of things, his mental rhythm all gone. But... all the hesitation in the world means nothing, and the conversation he'd had only highlights that.
If nothing else, Connor deserves an explanation. The android can decide where he stands thereafter.
That thought is heavy in his chest.]
Sorry it's been... I guess just this long. Heard from Falco you've been gone a while. He's worried, but I figure you probably needed space.
It doesn't help to be al I'm sorry, I should have kno You don't deserve what I'm about to hurt you w
[It's strange to finally hear from both Hank and Ethan on the same day. Maybe people had started talking about the fact he hadn't been around. Maybe nine days is just how long it takes for the people you thought were the closest to you to notice that you're missing.
Connor has no real reason to say no, though. He's a little hurt, sure, but this is better than Ethan not contacting him at all. He sends back a single word.]
[Connor tucks his phone into his pocket and heads towards the generators as promised. He gets there just before Ethan, and when he sees the other man he can't really bring himself to smile. It's been harder to do, lately.
His shirt has a tear in the shoulder and his jeans are dirty. He's been skulking around abandoned buildings for the past week, after all. His hair is a little out of place, but his skin is cleaner than would be expected given the state of his clothes. Like he washed recently, but couldn't find a new outfit.
The look he gives Ethan is a loaded one. He's confused and hurt about why it took so long to contact him, and curious about how much he knows. He's also slightly concerned at the state Ethan appears to be in.]
[There aren't going to be a lot of smiles in this meeting. He's already expecting it to go badly, but...
Abel wasn't wrong. He can't just hide from this. Can't pretend it's better if he's just... not there.
Seeing Connor only reinforces it. He should have contacted him earlier, should have... at least given him something to chew on, in the end of things. He hadn't expected, and that's his fault, -60 to just immediately turn around to go after him. Washed, but not clean. He's really been taking this avoidance thing seriously, hasn't he?
Ethan's lower lip pulls between his teeth when he approaches, a recent habit of his as he chews on the potential words. The reality? He's going to stumble. He's not the best at talking, and neither is Connor. Not really. The lack of sound still isn't helping matters.]
Connor. I- [Oh, he's already starting to struggle, the intent of possible arguments mixing with how to even greet someone. There's no lie in his expression, for all there is a multitude of emotions.] I'm glad to see you. [What he manages is a thin smile, and he reaches out to brush his hair back-- pauses. Guiltily curls his fingers, like he doesn't think he's allowed, after everything.]
I'm sorry. You don't deserve to have waited this long for me to talk to you, and I'm still struggling through how to even... explain.
[He hates how his voice sounds, thin and hesitant. He should have used her voice, but that wouldn't be fair either. There's no winning here, and he's already preparing for all of it.]
[It's nice to see Ethan too, but bitterness keeps him from expressing as much. For now he just leans against a wall, folds his arms around himself like it could keep him from feeling anything more than he already does. A distinct purple brand is noticeable on his left hand, two S shapes back to back.
He assumes Ethan means he needs to explain why he didn't contact him. And Connor just shakes his head, stares at a spot on the ground because it's easier than looking at Ethan.]
I thought you had forgotten about me.
[Or that he didn't care as much as Connor had assumed he did. Whatever had happened between them, maybe it was just... hormones. At least, on Ethan's end. Humans have many partners, some based around nothing but the need to reproduce. The want to feel good. Maybe that's all it was. Connor was just an easy target. Connor was... a fool, probably.]
[Ethan's eyes land on that mark, and it's only been a day since that... Long-winded conversation that brought him here.
It might actually, somehow, be the worst time to bring that up. That's cool, that's fine. His brows furrow, but he doesn't ask. Not yet.]
No-- of course not.
[Confusion colours his tone, as if he can't figure out how or why Connor thought that. Because... He can't figure out those facts. Logic takes a long time to slot into place when he's actively so different from most people.]
I hadn't realised it would-- sorry. [He cuts himself off there. No excuses. He'll have enough explaining to do in a minute.
For now, he cuts through his own discomfort in what he doesn't deserve to reach out and place a hand on Connor's arm, gentle and still unsure. He can't help that, so much. This is like to go downhill in a hurry.]
I was just... Scared, I guess. [Oh, he hates that. The way it sticks in his throat and trembles on his voice, feels like it tears him to shreds. He doesn't deserve to be scared in the first place--]
It's... That's not why I wanted to talk, though. And I'm not sure that you'll-- want to. Talk about it. After. But if it was that easy, I wouldn't have been a coward this long. If you didn't mean that much. [Yeah, he can't look at Connor now. It's a mixed bag - on one hand, there's no flashes of memory. On the other...
He struggles again for words, pulling his hand back to tug at his glove. There's no rhythm to his movements today, something off about them all, clumsy. He doesn't notice.]
... Falco. Doesn't blame you. You know. [He starts there, with the thing he's wanted to say for days.] He misses you. I don't know if... you knew that.
... And you shouldn't... Put the blame on him. [It's different than he should say it, he's sure. He doesn't talk about things because he's bad at it.] I was the one who called him for help.
[He can barely breathe, expression... Guilty, apologetic. Tense, waiting. He'll clarify if Connor doesn't put it together, but he suspects he will.]
[Connor seems like he softens a little at the touch, because it's easy to believe in the moment that Ethan is sorry.]
I know he doesn't blame me. But he should. I shot him.
[He's running with the assumption that Falco told Ethan everything. But he doesn't get to ask, because what Ethan says next makes him freeze, tensing up.]
You...?
[He pulls away from Ethan as if burned, and any indication that he was willing to hear him out fairly is gone as quickly as it came.]
But you- how did you know? Why would you help that Connor?
[No, there must be a reason. Ethan must have gotten confused. Something isn't adding up here.]
[That was Falco's doing, he doesn't say. He understands, more than most, how that can feel... But that's a conversation neither here nor there.
Besides, there's the reaction he expected. Connor recoils, and Ethan's fingers curl in. He braces for the probable onslaught, because this isn't...]
Different... Reasons. Those have different reasons. [It's by way of explanation, as he decides which way to go about it.]
... I've been... Working with him, on the network. For a while. So we had things in place to communicate. I wanted to... Give him a reason to stop, because force doesn't work. [only the network, of course, but he won't be surprised if Connor takes it wrong. If he supposes the two are connecting in the same way as he and Connor had before - true, after all, in the most basic sense.]
... I helped him because of how he... Sounded. [Like he'd given up. He lost everything, and it was finally easier to just stop. Like Ethan himself had--] Because I didn't think he'd turn around in the span of half an hour to just...
... That was an oversight, I should have contacted you. But I didn't want you to just keep going like that. It was selfish, but the thought of you just... [He bites his lip, the first of the memories popping up. How much satisfaction did Connor feel, when he did it?]
... I don't know what you were thinking at the time, but I have an.. an idea. How it may have felt like it was his fault, that you just had to-- do it. Because he made you.
[It's so loud, in his ears. A smooth, calm speech, declaring anything that happens your own fault. Hubris. His heartbeat picks up and he ignores it. There's too much to do.
Well, that assumes Connor lets the conversation go on. He's not going to be so much as trying to avoid him, anymore.]
[The longer Ethan speaks, the more he wants to shut him up. Working with -60? All this time? He'd never put it together. How could he have? Nothing hinted towards it. He's desperately scanning his memories for any sign of it, but they'd both kept it quiet.
Which proves only one thing, in Connor's mind: Ethan knew Connor couldn't find out, and -60 cared enough, for some reason, to keep it secret. He doubts he actually cared about Ethan, but Ethan clearly cared about -60. Enough to choose him over Connor, anyway. And that stings.
More feverish conclusions jump to mind, backed mostly by mounting emotional distress and not much logic. Was Ethan just tricking him for -60's sake? Or was he playing them both until he decided who he wanted to support? Was -60 simply more useful, in the end? His LED blinks red. He looks hurt, but he also looks angry. He blinks away a haze of purple, fights the urge to lunge, and steps away from Ethan.]
So he meant more to you, in the end.
[He must have done, because he chose -60's welfare over Connor's. He ruined almost a month of careful planning.]
[He had an inkling of the possibility of this. Of Connor taking it hurtling out of the stratosphere, no matter what he said. He had prepared for something like it.
Whatever he'd prepared for, it isn't what Connor says. That... Stings. No, not stings. It worms its way down through him, and Ethan's not avoiding Connor's face anymore.]
What?
[Dumbfounded, he just... Stares. Was that what-- he tries to cycle back through his words. Was it how it sounded? The idea is predictably ludicrous in his own mind, but words have a way of twisting...]
It isn't him I did it for. He wasn't the reason I talked to the Admin. You don't--
[He bites his lip. He just has to explain. Fingers twitch, and he wants to offer his hand, to plead for connection to explain. But he doesn't.
His shoulders slump. This is probably what he deserves.]
I don't really have anything to say for working with him on the network. That was a mutual agreement, one that afforded some measure of safety and progress.
[In most ways, it's still that. He's angry for -60's situation, but it's a separate thing altogether.]
... I helped him because I would have done the same thing in your shoes, Connor. I'm not... The right choice for the job, but I couldn't watch you do the same thing I almost did.
[It sounds absolutely backwards, but there's honesty there.]
I don't... Expect it to make sense. And I won't ask forgiveness. But I'd rather be an enemy than see you change that much.
And I am sorry for not telling you sooner, for what that matters.
It doesn't matter at all! Because for however sorry you were, you weren't sorry enough to tell me!
[He has to try to bring himself back to a more rational mindset, he tells himself. But it's so hard. It's so much easier to let his emotions sweep him away.]
You helped him because you understood why I did it? That makes no sense!
[He hisses the words. His gaze is ice cold, and his eyes narrow.]
And the party was... what, did he blow you off before so you thought you'd try me instead? I was just a backup, right? And I fell for it, too. You must have thought me such an idiot-
[He wants to just bury his face in his hands. His... chest hurts. His thoughts are so scrambled. He can't think clearly. Why? He's better than this. He turns his back on Ethan, trying to compose himself because his stress levels are so dangerously high right now, and he's starting to overheat. Even he realises he might not be making complete sense at this point, but too much has happened in too short a time. He's getting all the different possibilities jumbled in a way he never has before.]
[How many times had he thought about it? Of saying something, just making it clear, so that Connor knew? But... he's a man of contracts. They're everything and nothing.
And there's no point in explaining.
Connor's gaze, his words, they rip through the resolve he wants to have, leave him just as cold as ever. It would be so easy to back out. To step away with his explanation done. No more information is needed, technically, to convey what he wanted to talk about.
What would she say in this situation? If he were to talk to her again, after all this time?
If he admitted he wanted to run, to--
He takes a breath, bites his lip in the quiet space between.
This is about making his decision. Something about not locking everything away. It's bullshit, but it's sentimental bullshit that... actually means something.
Words aren't going to get him anywhere. Why does he always try to use them in the first fucking place?]
... Connor. [One thing. Just one thing. If it doesn't work-- it doesn't work. If it makes things worse, he'll accept that.
He doesn't expect it to fix things, not at this point. But maybe-- if he'll listen for just one second, maybe it'll make him think.]
[He almost doesn't. He almost walks away because he knows he's at a dangerous stress level here. But he turns, slowly, watching Ethan. Eyes full of hurt more than anything. He regrets his outburst now, embarrassed both that he came to that conclusion and that he was obviously so bothered by it.]
What?
[There's no cold edge to his voice anymore, as if it melted away with his growing emotional exhaustion. He sounds tired. He wants to go curl up somewhere and go into standby mode for a few days. His LED is still red, skin hot to the touch.]
[It takes everything he has to move, in the face of that. He hates it. Hates hates hates seeing that hurt look on his face. Hates that it's his fault, that it was going to be this way no matter what.]
... You are an idiot, but that's what I like about you.
[It's softer, without venom, and it's on the heels of him leaning forward, cold fingers hooking against too-hot skin. Lips pressing to lips, firm and sure, and for that moment maybe he's thankful he's always so cold. It's worrisome, and still... when he pulls away, or if he's pushed away, he exhales a sigh.]
You have every right to be mad at me. I made this choice. I chose to hurt you, and I knew it would.
I know... I don't make a lot of sense. But I'll wait to try and explain until you're ready. If you're ever ready.
[His fingers curl back against his palms. That's it. Is it enough?
[The kiss makes him freeze in place, and he doesn't return it. It just hurts more. Ethan seems to be sincere, with no obvious tells that he's lying, but it makes it harder to do what he needs to do. Or... what he thinks he needs to do, anyway.
Which is to push Ethan back; not hard, but firmly enough to make his position clear. He's not going to accept that. Not right now. Ethan lost his right to be close to him when he chose to be close to -60, instead. When he chose to betray him.
He listens to what Ethan has to say, but doesn't answer. Instead he just backs up, before starting to leave. He's not sure there's anything else to be said.]
[The acceptance, in the end, isn't what Ethan's looking for. He doesn't deserve that - he knows he doesn't. He said as much. Connor was going through enough, without his... everything.
He chose this, and in choosing it, he also chose to go through this. The lack of acceptance is... a relief, almost.
A reminder that this is where he belongs.
No answer is better than more denial, after all. Inhaling and exhaling a shaking breath, Ethan shifts to watch Connor go, lips curling wryly at the sight of it. If Connor thinks this conversation is over, it's over.
... He wants to go home.
Not the House, but home. Where he's useful, where... his actions are known and understood. Where he can be alone, working toward a goal that's going to sink him into the depths of hatred without endangering everyone around him.
It'd be easier. Here, all he has are numb fingers, a wandering head, and no earthly idea what he's doing or how, beyond 'apparently just fucking things up for people he cares about'.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
plasticasshole) wrote2017-08-31 11:41 pm
7/9, ???? Sometime after Hank finds Connor
If nothing else, Connor deserves an explanation. The android can decide where he stands thereafter.
That thought is heavy in his chest.]
Sorry it's been... I guess just this long. Heard from Falco you've been gone a while.
He's worried, but I figure you probably needed space.It doesn't help to be alI'm sorry, I should have knoYou don't deserve what I'm about to hurt you wCan we talk somewhere?
pretend it's in text font
Connor has no real reason to say no, though. He's a little hurt, sure, but this is better than Ethan not contacting him at all. He sends back a single word.]
Where?
what do u mean it's not
Where, though?]
Near the generators?
I'm not doing well in places where it's quiet.[What's going on with him doesn't matter, he decides, like a fool. It's out of the way and away from prying eyes, regardless.
Well, other than the ones that are always on him. He's almost decided he doesn't care about those, anymore.]
no subject
[Connor tucks his phone into his pocket and heads towards the generators as promised. He gets there just before Ethan, and when he sees the other man he can't really bring himself to smile. It's been harder to do, lately.
His shirt has a tear in the shoulder and his jeans are dirty. He's been skulking around abandoned buildings for the past week, after all. His hair is a little out of place, but his skin is cleaner than would be expected given the state of his clothes. Like he washed recently, but couldn't find a new outfit.
The look he gives Ethan is a loaded one. He's confused and hurt about why it took so long to contact him, and curious about how much he knows. He's also slightly concerned at the state Ethan appears to be in.]
no subject
Abel wasn't wrong. He can't just hide from this. Can't pretend it's better if he's just... not there.
Seeing Connor only reinforces it. He should have contacted him earlier, should have... at least given him something to chew on, in the end of things. He hadn't expected, and that's his fault, -60 to just immediately turn around to go after him. Washed, but not clean. He's really been taking this avoidance thing seriously, hasn't he?
Ethan's lower lip pulls between his teeth when he approaches, a recent habit of his as he chews on the potential words. The reality? He's going to stumble. He's not the best at talking, and neither is Connor. Not really. The lack of sound still isn't helping matters.]
Connor. I- [Oh, he's already starting to struggle, the intent of possible arguments mixing with how to even greet someone. There's no lie in his expression, for all there is a multitude of emotions.] I'm glad to see you. [What he manages is a thin smile, and he reaches out to brush his hair back-- pauses. Guiltily curls his fingers, like he doesn't think he's allowed, after everything.]
I'm sorry. You don't deserve to have waited this long for me to talk to you, and I'm still struggling through how to even... explain.
[He hates how his voice sounds, thin and hesitant. He should have used her voice, but that wouldn't be fair either. There's no winning here, and he's already preparing for all of it.]
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He assumes Ethan means he needs to explain why he didn't contact him. And Connor just shakes his head, stares at a spot on the ground because it's easier than looking at Ethan.]
I thought you had forgotten about me.
[Or that he didn't care as much as Connor had assumed he did. Whatever had happened between them, maybe it was just... hormones. At least, on Ethan's end. Humans have many partners, some based around nothing but the need to reproduce. The want to feel good. Maybe that's all it was. Connor was just an easy target. Connor was... a fool, probably.]
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It might actually, somehow, be the worst time to bring that up. That's cool, that's fine. His brows furrow, but he doesn't ask. Not yet.]
No-- of course not.
[Confusion colours his tone, as if he can't figure out how or why Connor thought that. Because... He can't figure out those facts. Logic takes a long time to slot into place when he's actively so different from most people.]
I hadn't realised it would-- sorry. [He cuts himself off there. No excuses. He'll have enough explaining to do in a minute.
For now, he cuts through his own discomfort in what he doesn't deserve to reach out and place a hand on Connor's arm, gentle and still unsure. He can't help that, so much. This is like to go downhill in a hurry.]
I was just... Scared, I guess. [Oh, he hates that. The way it sticks in his throat and trembles on his voice, feels like it tears him to shreds. He doesn't deserve to be scared in the first place--]
It's... That's not why I wanted to talk, though. And I'm not sure that you'll-- want to. Talk about it. After. But if it was that easy, I wouldn't have been a coward this long. If you didn't mean that much. [Yeah, he can't look at Connor now. It's a mixed bag - on one hand, there's no flashes of memory. On the other...
He struggles again for words, pulling his hand back to tug at his glove. There's no rhythm to his movements today, something off about them all, clumsy. He doesn't notice.]
... Falco. Doesn't blame you. You know. [He starts there, with the thing he's wanted to say for days.] He misses you. I don't know if... you knew that.
... And you shouldn't... Put the blame on him. [It's different than he should say it, he's sure. He doesn't talk about things because he's bad at it.] I was the one who called him for help.
[He can barely breathe, expression... Guilty, apologetic. Tense, waiting. He'll clarify if Connor doesn't put it together, but he suspects he will.]
no subject
I know he doesn't blame me. But he should. I shot him.
[He's running with the assumption that Falco told Ethan everything. But he doesn't get to ask, because what Ethan says next makes him freeze, tensing up.]
You...?
[He pulls away from Ethan as if burned, and any indication that he was willing to hear him out fairly is gone as quickly as it came.]
But you- how did you know? Why would you help that Connor?
[No, there must be a reason. Ethan must have gotten confused. Something isn't adding up here.]
Cw: mention of suicidal ideation
Besides, there's the reaction he expected. Connor recoils, and Ethan's fingers curl in. He braces for the probable onslaught, because this isn't...]
Different... Reasons. Those have different reasons. [It's by way of explanation, as he decides which way to go about it.]
... I've been... Working with him, on the network. For a while. So we had things in place to communicate. I wanted to... Give him a reason to stop, because force doesn't work. [only the network, of course, but he won't be surprised if Connor takes it wrong. If he supposes the two are connecting in the same way as he and Connor had before - true, after all, in the most basic sense.]
... I helped him because of how he... Sounded. [Like he'd given up. He lost everything, and it was finally easier to just stop. Like Ethan himself had--] Because I didn't think he'd turn around in the span of half an hour to just...
... That was an oversight, I should have contacted you. But I didn't want you to just keep going like that. It was selfish, but the thought of you just... [He bites his lip, the first of the memories popping up. How much satisfaction did Connor feel, when he did it?]
... I don't know what you were thinking at the time, but I have an.. an idea. How it may have felt like it was his fault, that you just had to-- do it. Because he made you.
[It's so loud, in his ears. A smooth, calm speech, declaring anything that happens your own fault. Hubris. His heartbeat picks up and he ignores it. There's too much to do.
Well, that assumes Connor lets the conversation go on. He's not going to be so much as trying to avoid him, anymore.]
no subject
Which proves only one thing, in Connor's mind: Ethan knew Connor couldn't find out, and -60 cared enough, for some reason, to keep it secret. He doubts he actually cared about Ethan, but Ethan clearly cared about -60. Enough to choose him over Connor, anyway. And that stings.
More feverish conclusions jump to mind, backed mostly by mounting emotional distress and not much logic. Was Ethan just tricking him for -60's sake? Or was he playing them both until he decided who he wanted to support? Was -60 simply more useful, in the end? His LED blinks red. He looks hurt, but he also looks angry. He blinks away a haze of purple, fights the urge to lunge, and steps away from Ethan.]
So he meant more to you, in the end.
[He must have done, because he chose -60's welfare over Connor's. He ruined almost a month of careful planning.]
no subject
Whatever he'd prepared for, it isn't what Connor says. That... Stings. No, not stings. It worms its way down through him, and Ethan's not avoiding Connor's face anymore.]
What?
[Dumbfounded, he just... Stares. Was that what-- he tries to cycle back through his words. Was it how it sounded? The idea is predictably ludicrous in his own mind, but words have a way of twisting...]
It isn't him I did it for. He wasn't the reason I talked to the Admin. You don't--
[He bites his lip. He just has to explain. Fingers twitch, and he wants to offer his hand, to plead for connection to explain. But he doesn't.
His shoulders slump. This is probably what he deserves.]
I don't really have anything to say for working with him on the network. That was a mutual agreement, one that afforded some measure of safety and progress.
[In most ways, it's still that. He's angry for -60's situation, but it's a separate thing altogether.]
... I helped him because I would have done the same thing in your shoes, Connor. I'm not... The right choice for the job, but I couldn't watch you do the same thing I almost did.
[It sounds absolutely backwards, but there's honesty there.]
I don't... Expect it to make sense. And I won't ask forgiveness. But I'd rather be an enemy than see you change that much.
And I am sorry for not telling you sooner, for what that matters.
no subject
[He has to try to bring himself back to a more rational mindset, he tells himself. But it's so hard. It's so much easier to let his emotions sweep him away.]
You helped him because you understood why I did it? That makes no sense!
[He hisses the words. His gaze is ice cold, and his eyes narrow.]
And the party was... what, did he blow you off before so you thought you'd try me instead? I was just a backup, right? And I fell for it, too. You must have thought me such an idiot-
[He wants to just bury his face in his hands. His... chest hurts. His thoughts are so scrambled. He can't think clearly. Why? He's better than this. He turns his back on Ethan, trying to compose himself because his stress levels are so dangerously high right now, and he's starting to overheat. Even he realises he might not be making complete sense at this point, but too much has happened in too short a time. He's getting all the different possibilities jumbled in a way he never has before.]
no subject
And there's no point in explaining.
Connor's gaze, his words, they rip through the resolve he wants to have, leave him just as cold as ever. It would be so easy to back out. To step away with his explanation done. No more information is needed, technically, to convey what he wanted to talk about.
What would she say in this situation? If he were to talk to her again, after all this time?
If he admitted he wanted to run, to--
He takes a breath, bites his lip in the quiet space between.
This is about making his decision. Something about not locking everything away. It's bullshit, but it's sentimental bullshit that... actually means something.
Words aren't going to get him anywhere. Why does he always try to use them in the first fucking place?]
... Connor. [One thing. Just one thing. If it doesn't work-- it doesn't work. If it makes things worse, he'll accept that.
He doesn't expect it to fix things, not at this point. But maybe-- if he'll listen for just one second, maybe it'll make him think.]
Look at me. Just for a minute.
no subject
What?
[There's no cold edge to his voice anymore, as if it melted away with his growing emotional exhaustion. He sounds tired. He wants to go curl up somewhere and go into standby mode for a few days. His LED is still red, skin hot to the touch.]
no subject
... You are an idiot, but that's what I like about you.
[It's softer, without venom, and it's on the heels of him leaning forward, cold fingers hooking against too-hot skin. Lips pressing to lips, firm and sure, and for that moment maybe he's thankful he's always so cold. It's worrisome, and still... when he pulls away, or if he's pushed away, he exhales a sigh.]
You have every right to be mad at me. I made this choice. I chose to hurt you, and I knew it would.
I know... I don't make a lot of sense. But I'll wait to try and explain until you're ready. If you're ever ready.
[His fingers curl back against his palms. That's it. Is it enough?
It has to be, he supposes.]
no subject
Which is to push Ethan back; not hard, but firmly enough to make his position clear. He's not going to accept that. Not right now. Ethan lost his right to be close to him when he chose to be close to -60, instead. When he chose to betray him.
He listens to what Ethan has to say, but doesn't answer. Instead he just backs up, before starting to leave. He's not sure there's anything else to be said.]
no subject
He chose this, and in choosing it, he also chose to go through this. The lack of acceptance is... a relief, almost.
A reminder that this is where he belongs.
No answer is better than more denial, after all. Inhaling and exhaling a shaking breath, Ethan shifts to watch Connor go, lips curling wryly at the sight of it. If Connor thinks this conversation is over, it's over.
... He wants to go home.
Not the House, but home. Where he's useful, where... his actions are known and understood. Where he can be alone, working toward a goal that's going to sink him into the depths of hatred without endangering everyone around him.
It'd be easier. Here, all he has are numb fingers, a wandering head, and no earthly idea what he's doing or how, beyond 'apparently just fucking things up for people he cares about'.]