Day 048: I Hate You
Summary: Hector and Lionel bromance.
Date: 18 July 2016
Related: Directly follows Pop Culture Healing
Hector Lionel 

Hector and Lionel's Shared Bunkroom
It's a really boring bunkroom.
48 Days After Landing

Hector is clearly a bit cranky about the conversation that just transpired. As soon as they make it back to their shared bunk space, he's going immediately for his stash of booze. He flops down on his bed, kicks off his shoes, sighs, but then doesn't drink. He just kind of glares at the wall like it kicked his puppy.

Lionel is swaggering on in behind Hector — well, as much as his injured leg lets him swagger. He drops heavily onto his own side of the room, easing off his boots and beginning to strip out of his guards jacket. He hangs it up on the hook at the edge of his bed, and then looks at Hector. "You're lookin' mighty grouchy, my friend… you aren't letting those kids bug you, are you?"

Hector grunts softly. "Is that how it's gonna be now? If you're not a shit hot fighter or willing to risk your life, you're a coward not worthy of respect?" Those words seem to make him thirsty, because he finally gets around to swigging the swill.

"Cm'on, I don't think that's it at all… I mean, I'm going to beat the shit out of Grey for playing that guilt card. He's acting like his goddamn dad." Then he sighs, wriggling his toes in his newly repaired socks. He looks thoughtful, head dipped slightly. He watches Hector drink, and somehow refrains from grasping for the bottle. "I think they were trying to wrangle you into helping, but not thinking about how shit-assed stupid they sound."

"What, basically twisting the guilt knife? Telling me I'm a horrible person for not wanting to go up to the doorstep of people who kidnapped a bunch of kids and turned Grounders into monsters?" Hector swigs, burps a little, then draws in a deep breath. "Goddamn kids."

Lionel shakes his head slightly, stretching out on his bunk. He stares at the ceiling for a long moment, and then looks at Hector with a tilt of his head. "They wanted you to help, but they don't know how to ask beyond trying to negotiate for it…" He scratches a bit at his chest. "But, I mean… if I was in there… you'd come for me, right?"

"Would I? No," says Hector. He rolls over on to his side so he can look at his friend. "Because I sincerely believe I'd be a liability out there. The only guns I've ever had in my hand were broken ones. I can throw an OK punch. I did shitty in Earth Skills. If there was someone with some engineering knowledge who could set the explosives and could also take care of themselves out there? I'd want them to go. Not because I was afraid, but because I wouldn't be the right man for the job. This community - " he points to the ground. "- needs more than soldiers to survive. Which means people like me need to not take stupid risks in the name of heroism."

Lionel arches his brows when Hector is brutally honest. "Okay… not the answer I expected." He looks back at the ceiling, but he listens to Hector's explanation. He looks thoughtful at each point he offers, and hten nods slightly. Then he looks over at Hector. "And what if no one else was going to come get me?" Then he shakes his head slightly, and huffs out a breath. "Well, you might not be scared, but I'm scared shitless." He continues to scratch at his chest. "You know… the worst I had to do as a guard was break up a fucking rave, and make some arrests… break up a fight…" He looks over at Hector now, his expression honest. "Never really faced… death before… not knowingly."

"Someone's always going to come get you, Lionel. You owe too many people favours for them to let you die." Hector means that in a fond way. He listens to what his friend has to say and then hands the bottle over. "I guess I always just took it for granted that you were made of tougher stuff than me."

Hector's words are met with a small grin, but not exactly the most genuine of grins. He takes the bottle, tapping his finger on it before he takes a swig. Then he shakes his head a bit. "I'm not all that tough, man… I just know that I gotta do this."

Hector watches Lionel sip. He hesitates a moment before saying, "Do you think I'm a coward?"

Lionel takes another swallow, and then hands back the bottle. "I think you've never had an opportunity to be brave before, man… I don't think you're a coward, but I think you might gotta be honest with yourself if you're scared or not… because, shit… I'm terrified down here."

"Can't I be scared and also legitimately think I'd be a liability?" Hector eyes the bottle and takes in a breath through his nose. "If someone attacked me out there, I couldn't defend myself. What am I gonna do? Punch at a guy in body armor with a rifle? Throw witty quips at a mad cannibal? And that means the people who can fight gotta save my ass, and maybe get themselves killed in the process." He pauses a moment, then shakes his head. "I don't want that on me."

"Of course you can," Lionel says, threading his fingers behind his head. "But, I think you're putting yourself in a very tiny box if you think you're a liability. Because, you can learn how not to be." He looks over at his friend now, eyes searching Hector's expression. "H… I think a big thing to remember, too… is you don't gotta go slay the Reapers to be brave… or go rescue me like I'm your damsel either." He does start to grin slightly at that. "I would make a very good looking damsel though… and you would be striking in shining armor."

"I'm not a liability in general," says Hector. He huffs softly. "Just in the fighty department. I'm not saying I couldn't learn, but I'm not going to learn in time for this mission." He clucks his tongue and shakes his head. "Nah, you're too lippy to be a proper damsel. You'd probably complain about how late I was and why didn't I bring any booze."

"Yeah, I would… and wonder why the birds braided my hair." Lionel offers Hector a small grin again before he shakes his head slightly. "You ever want to learn to protect or defend yourself, I'll teach you, H… I'll let you wave around a shock baton." He scratches at the side of his nose then. "But… I think that these kids gotta try to remember that we are here for them, too… they got this mentality like… I don't know… like if we're not on their side, we're against them… which is stupid."

"I mean, I spent some time in the Skybox. All you have in there is time to stew about how adults are assholes. So I sort of get it, but…" Hector grunts. "Some of them are a bit high and mighty just because they didn't die."

"Tell me fucking about it…" Lionel shakes his head. "I still got to thump Grey… little shit. He doesn't need to be puffin' out his chest like that." Then he sighs heavily, looking back at the ceiling. "I forget sometimes that you're a dirty delinquent too."

"Hah! How could you possibly forget that? Clearly I am," says Hector. He extends his arms and then swings his legs over the side of his bunk so he's sitting upright. "Clearly I am not a shining paragon of Ark society."

Lionel snorts. "Who is?" He looks over at Hector when he sits up, angling his head a bit to stare up at him. "I mean, seriously… I can't think of a single person. You know… besides me. I'm perfect."

Hector just gives Lionel A Look (TM). "Yeah? If you're so perfect, why don't you run for Chancellor?" He swigs deeper from the bottle of swill, then reluctantly passes it over. He's drank it a little too fast - it's easy to tell. He's looking a little glassy-eyed already.,

"Fuck that shit," Lionel snorts. "I'm not stupid enough to be a Chancellor… I hear there's paperwork… and I can barely get cadets to file my AAR's for me." He then looks over at Hector fully, catching that glassy-eyed look. He laughs, swinging himself up. He stands up, takes the bottle, and drops heavily beside Hector. "You need to slow down. You're getting old." He caps the bottle, after taking another nip himself.

"So old, so rickety." Hector goes still, then leans against his friend. Not quite head on shoulder, but not far from it. "Don't die out there, OK? You're the only person in this shithole who understands me. And I don't think I'm gonna find a new BFF out among the Groundlings."

Lionel easily throws his arm around Hector's shoulders, giving the man a good squeeze. He nods slowly to his concerns, and starts to smile. "I won't die." He hopes. "I'll even come back in one piece." Maybe. He barely shrugs his shoulder, not wanting to upset Hector's lean. "Besides… if I'm not here… you might end up making friends with Kane… can't have the Chancellor one-upping me."

Hector actually snort-laughs. "Kane. Kane wishes there was still an airlock just so he could float me if need be." He grunts and closes his eyes for a minute. Juuust a minute, mind. That lean isn't getting heavier and heavier or anything.

"I hear the Grounders do this cutting thing… I think I would prefer an airlock…" Lionel is a good person to lean on. He lets Hector sink on in, his arm not leaving his friend's shoulder. Only when he's sure the man's eyes aren't going to open again does he slowly extracate himself, starting to lean him back into his pillow.

"Nurfh," says Hector. It's a wordless complaint. He allows himself to be dropped down, but before Lionel can go too far, he says, "How you been sleeping anyway? I can't tell." His eyes are closed, but he's clearly still conscious.

Lionel grins broadly, still seated on Hector's bed. He folds his fingers together, elbows leaning on his knees. He shrugs his shoulders a bit. "It's… goddamn quiet down here… and, don't know… keep waking up to thinking someone is going to slit my throat in my sleep." He looks down at Hector. "So… not great."

"I fall asleep fine, but then halfway through the night I just feel…weird. Like someone picked up my bed and moved it. Then I wake up, hear crickets, don't feel the hum of machinery…for a second, I don't know where I am." Hector's quiet a moment, then he adds, "Sometimes I have nightmares about the crash."

"Ooh, nocturnal relocation… that would be evil," Lionel says. He then breathes in through his teeth and nods sharply. "Yeah… me too…" He slides up closer to Hector so he can give the man's shoulder a deep squeeze. "But you always wake up… remember where you are… that you're alive." There is some forced chipperness there, because even Lionel isn't convinced he's happy with those things.

"Alive, and where the wild things are," murmurs Hector sleepily. "Wild humans as well as wild animals. And the ones who are closest to our level of civilization have been mutated into monsters, morally if not physically." He opens one eye, then the other at the shoulder squeeze. "Don't be stupid out there, OK? Don't let those kids and their swagger get to you. If they wanna run off and be heroic idiots, let them. You be the smart hero."

"Didn't you have that picture book?" Lionel asks, but he notices how his friend seems to be getting sleepy. Then he offers a small smile when Hector looks up at him. "Hey, hey… this is me we're talking about." Which means all of Hector's points are valid. He gives Hector a lopsided smile. "I'll be smart, Hector… promise." He then slowly starts to drop down onto the floor beside Hector's bed, leaning his shoulders against the bed. "Just going to sit here… so you know where you are when you wake up."

Hector reaches out and paws Lionel on the side of the head. "Don't be an idiot, I'm not three. Besides, if I do have nightmares, you'll get woken up by the pathetic whimpering," he drawls. It's part jest, part self-jab.

Lionel accepts the pawing with a slight recoil and swat at Hector's hand. He grins up toward him. "Yeah, well… this way, it will be super easy for me to crawl into your bed when I wake up from my own nightmares. Win, win." He then scooches forward, grabs his own pillow, and then scooches back, and tucks it behind his head. "Now, go to sleep, or I start singing ABBA."

"I hate you," says Hector, but in a way that it somehow implies the exact opposite. And then an extra blanket thumps on Lionel from above. "Don't go bitching to me if your back is sore tomorrow, or some creepy spider bit you."

"No, you don't… you're actually really disappointed I didn't ask if you wanted to be the little spoon or the big spoon." He grins at Hector, taking the thump of the blanket without complaint. Lionel starts to shake it out, throwing it over his legs. He freezes then, looking around at the floor. "… Spider?"

"I'm clearly the big spoon, that's why," murmurs Hector. And then, "Yeah, of course. Why do you think human beings started building their beds off the floor to begin with? Creepy crawlies. And we are in the middle of a forest." How can someone be so wry when they're only half awake?

"I hate you," Lionel says. Then he continues shaking out the blanket, glowering a bit. "If I see a spider, I don't care if you're the big spoon or the little…" He then casts a scowl at Hector.

Hector's eyes are closed, but he just grins. "Sleep well, Lionheart. Don't let the floor bugs bite."

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