[It’s well-employed, that scientific skepticism. Just casually enough stated to question Markus’ borderline martyr-like stance without actually questioning it. Observation, utilized in a way that allows Markus to reply, or to let it slide off of his shoulders like a thing ignored.
He finds he can’t do the latter, not completely. That Fitz has unwound so much of himself before him, that should allow him at least the same in return — if even by a small amount. His shoulder jostles a little with the friendly gesture, his grin tilting lopsided.]
Unsustainable? Maybe not. But sometimes it isn’t a matter of sustainability, only necessity that you keep pushing forward for reasons that are beyond yourself.
[But even so, the offer does not go unnoticed nor under appreciated.]
That being said, I know that I can rely on you. And I appreciate it more than you know.
[ Their pace evens and steadies, more at ease in the aftermath. In some ways, Markus gives the answer that Fitz anticipates. Fitz has known better (or perhaps equally good) and worse men in the style of Markus, built to rise above their contemporaries and stand with pride for something greater. And Fitz, while not in that league of heroes, fights as if he’s running out of time, every hour stolen from the spectre in his head.
Not sustainable. Necessary.
Repaying all of his vulnerability and concessions with one admission of his own, Markus gives a fraction, enough for the moment. Then he turns the conversation back on Fitz, terming him a known quantity, proven to be reliable despite all the evidence to the contrary. It makes his chest ache. People here as warm as his team, their specific configuration of atoms and memory only possible in this multiversal hub, and destined to blink out of this reality, by force or by choice.
We don’t need a martyr, he thinks, and forces the words to stay in his throat. Maybe they do. Maybe they will. The best causes always have one. If the time comes, if it’s necessary — ]
I know enough. [ His mouth curves, smile slight and sad. There nonetheless, persisting. ] You’re good at saying it. Showing it. [ He looks askance at Markus. ] And it means a lot. When it’s you.
[ clearing his throat, then. That’s enough sincerity for one day, isn’t it? ]
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no subject
He finds he can’t do the latter, not completely. That Fitz has unwound so much of himself before him, that should allow him at least the same in return — if even by a small amount. His shoulder jostles a little with the friendly gesture, his grin tilting lopsided.]
Unsustainable? Maybe not. But sometimes it isn’t a matter of sustainability, only necessity that you keep pushing forward for reasons that are beyond yourself.
[But even so, the offer does not go unnoticed nor under appreciated.]
That being said, I know that I can rely on you. And I appreciate it more than you know.
no subject
Not sustainable. Necessary.
Repaying all of his vulnerability and concessions with one admission of his own, Markus gives a fraction, enough for the moment. Then he turns the conversation back on Fitz, terming him a known quantity, proven to be reliable despite all the evidence to the contrary. It makes his chest ache. People here as warm as his team, their specific configuration of atoms and memory only possible in this multiversal hub, and destined to blink out of this reality, by force or by choice.
We don’t need a martyr, he thinks, and forces the words to stay in his throat. Maybe they do. Maybe they will. The best causes always have one. If the time comes, if it’s necessary — ]
I know enough. [ His mouth curves, smile slight and sad. There nonetheless, persisting. ] You’re good at saying it. Showing it. [ He looks askance at Markus. ] And it means a lot. When it’s you.
[ clearing his throat, then. That’s enough sincerity for one day, isn’t it? ]