handleyourshit | Duplicity Inbox

This is Rosita. I'll hit you back when I can.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

"Understandable." He's smirking though and finally admits, "He's afraid to connect to people but he's going to be one of ours, isn't he? I'm excited for him."

"He thinks he doesn't need anyone because he's had the luxury of doing that," she agrees. It's different from actually not needing anyone.

"But I think the fact that he actually said, word for word, that I was the only one he could stomach means that yes. He's probably one of ours."

"You're turning into me," he teases. "Just watch, soon you'll be bringing home all the refugees."

"No the fuck I won't," she snorts.

"And no the fuck I'm not. I just failed to discourage this one from following me back."

"He never wanted to follow anyone home until he met you," he retorts with a smirk. "Soon you'll be networking communities and breaking into libraries just like me."

"Well, have you met me?" she teases, that flippant brand of cocky arrogance she wraps around her like a shield sometimes.

Then she asks, much more seriously: "Is that what you want?"

"No. Then I'd be obsolete." He smiles at her, nudges her foot with his. "I like you being careful about who we bring in. I haven't been wrong about anyone yet, but no one is right all the time. I'll make a mistake one of these days, and you'll catch it."

"It's not about right or wrong," she answers, because while they both know there is such a thing, it's not like she's going to rub his face in it if they make a mistake together; he certainly hasn't rubbed hers in the ones she's made.

"It's about what goal we're working towards and how we're doing it. You said you wanted me to lead."

"And I do. I feel safe with you calling those shots." He trusts her to make decisions he balks at.

Her brow furrows for a moment, wanting to evade again like she has been so far - exacerbated, even, by the fact that they're adjusting at such wildly different rates, and that he has surrounded himself with people he can rely on while she has only him and those he's introduced.

But she physically shakes it off, and instead says, "That's what I'm asking. What shots are you hoping to see me call? What would you like to see?"

It's different here, where the leader doesn't have to worry about walls and the dead. "The ones you've been making. How we fix this place up, the sort of bases we fortify. What caches to focus on."

"I'm recreating Alexandria and Hilltop here," she points out.

She's not ashamed of it, she doesn't think she was wrong, but she remembers her conversation with Vrenille.

"That's what you want to do, too?"

"Yeah. I do." Exactly that. Whatever problems they'd had in the communities, he believes in them and the good they did.

She smiles then, but it's sad.

"But I'm the only one that can live here. Unless everything goes to shit."

And she's all for preparing for that likelihood, especially given the things that happened last year, the things that happened last month.

"We're more spread out, but the principle is the same. Broken Hollow is as much a part of the community as Creekside. So is the Manor." He looks down, though. "I like having my own place but I miss having people sometimes. I'd live here more if I could. Or at least closer."

"I know."

It's a problem she doesn't have a solution to - and one she chafes at, after years of being beholden to no one she doesn't care for unless she chooses to be.

"I'm just thinking we might have to adjust. Adapt to this place as it is." A beat. "After the shortest exit tunnel is secure, I want to shift K to something else for a while. Vrenille's working on portals for the rest."

"Where do you need help?" K will do it, Jesus knows. He'll do it without complaint, but Jesus wants it to be something K can enjoy. Something in the daylight, something around the plants.

"I think working on the fields," she answers, because she's been thinking about it. She wants him to enjoy it too, and in this case it's also useful.

"With you. Planting and harvesting, and when to do what."

"He'll probably like it so much I could tell him it's a date," Jesus chuckles.

"How you handle your love life is not up to me," she teases, although she does kind of agree from what she's seen.

Which: "Are you going to invite him to stay here?"

"Yeah. I think he's earned a place with us. I think maybe he needs to know it, though." That he's welcome with them.

"What's that mean?" she asks.

The man puts in work out here. He showed up in the woods. That's enough for her when paired with the way Jesus goes stupid about him from time to time.

"I don't think he knows how much I want him around. Or that he's more than a workhorse around here." It's hard for K to get his head around being more than a machine, he thinks.

"So tell him."

She's not sure which one is the problem at this point, Jesus not saying anything or K not understanding.

"If that doesn't work, use the rooms to show him."