The abruptness of the his outburst with everything he had let haunt them for the course of 'this kind of' year pouring out hit Verity like a truck, so to speak.
"Ratchet-"
Her throat seized and the name she, the empathy and shock in her voice broke over her lips like glass. Verity takes a wobbling step back, knees shivering witH one leg balanced on a twisted ankle, and her hands drawn up close to her own chest, squeezing them together tight enough that her knuckles were bloodless. It's a miracle she can look him in the eye; she hates when her eyes string. Heart beating against her ribs like a songbird raging against its cage. Taking the wheel over her own difficult to navigate emotions, but when it was someone else. Someone else, she-
-wants everyone to think she's tough and independent, but you wonder sometimes.
Like ice freezing in the hard fissures of these fronts they put, ripping them open wider over time and eroding them away from the inside. She knew that act and the consequences of it better than the back of her hand. She swallows what feels like a mouthful of sand and steps forward again.
"It's okay to be scared."
People have been telling her for years, and it was shame she never bothered to bend an ear in the right direction until now when someone else needed to hear it.
"It's okay to be scared."
Verity didn't apologize - it wasn't her place to, and neither did she press for details. Not yet. Instead she hobbled over and mindful of the gap between Ratchet and the table slowly leaned against his arm. The best she could do in the way of a hug when the one breaking open in front of her was thirty something feet and made of metal.
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"Ratchet-"
Her throat seized and the name she, the empathy and shock in her voice broke over her lips like glass. Verity takes a wobbling step back, knees shivering witH one leg balanced on a twisted ankle, and her hands drawn up close to her own chest, squeezing them together tight enough that her knuckles were bloodless. It's a miracle she can look him in the eye; she hates when her eyes string. Heart beating against her ribs like a songbird raging against its cage. Taking the wheel over her own difficult to navigate emotions, but when it was someone else. Someone else, she-
-wants everyone to think she's tough and independent, but you wonder sometimes.
Like ice freezing in the hard fissures of these fronts they put, ripping them open wider over time and eroding them away from the inside. She knew that act and the consequences of it better than the back of her hand. She swallows what feels like a mouthful of sand and steps forward again.
"It's okay to be scared."
People have been telling her for years, and it was shame she never bothered to bend an ear in the right direction until now when someone else needed to hear it.
"It's okay to be scared."
Verity didn't apologize - it wasn't her place to, and neither did she press for details. Not yet. Instead she hobbled over and mindful of the gap between Ratchet and the table slowly leaned against his arm. The best she could do in the way of a hug when the one breaking open in front of her was thirty something feet and made of metal.