[ Space, this time, and he used to love them. Hate them for how inaccurate the science could be but one wormhole, one nuke, and a brain scrambling to remind him of the same? He'd tried to stick it out, felt that vice like grip in his chest and bailed; wrapped up as he is in trying to breathe through it (like he had to learn, like J walked him through forever ago and now it comes with the double whammy of anxiety and grief which is a fun combination let him tell you), arms braced on the nearbye counter, it takes him half a second to realize that he's being spoken to.
He straightens even though it lights up a fissure of pain in his left shoulder, hand trembling, right reaching up to rub it as he shrugs like he hadn't been (still isn't) trying to breathe through a bone deep need to curl up and never move again. ] Not really my thing. Too much shitty science. As an engineer I find it offensive.
no subject
He straightens even though it lights up a fissure of pain in his left shoulder, hand trembling, right reaching up to rub it as he shrugs like he hadn't been (still isn't) trying to breathe through a bone deep need to curl up and never move again. ] Not really my thing. Too much shitty science. As an engineer I find it offensive.