goodweather | IC INBOX ( SAIL )

It isn't. It's unusual conversation, but it isn't surprising at all.

Phil has no literal, concrete reason to think himself expendable in the same way SecUnit does. He's never thought himself that way. He has thought that there would be no great loss if he simply stopped, or that he was all done and ready to go, and there was nothing he was doing that wasn't replaceable anyway.

Unfortunately, there is a truth: it matters only if you want it to. It is very difficult when you don't. It is deeply frustrating when you don't, and other people do.

"It's dickish to do without permission to anything that can be asked a question and make a choice, flat. Even if they figured that somebody wouldn't mind."

Phil taps on the table. "With permission, not so much. I guess. But they'd still have to deal with all the other people who suddenly have something cut out from their lives--cut by choice."

Murderbot's face gives nothing away, until that last sentence, and then it grimaces. It's an ugly, pained grimace, one that's at least part wince.

Because it cut itself out of the lives of the only humans it can remember caring about it, as surely as if by death, when it ran away from them. It removed itself from their lives by choice, and without much of a goodbye (okay, yes, Mensah got a novella worth of justification for its choice, but that wasn't enough, that can't have been enough for its favorite human).

"The people on this ship are sentimental. They would care. A lot."

“They would,” he agrees. “Unfortunately.”

(“I would’ve followed you. You have to know that I would’ve.”)

“People don’t get to have the last say in what we do with our lives. I only know of two exceptions to this. First is when it can’t be helped. Second is when it hurts other people. Cutting yourself out when other people want you there is the second.”

A beat. “After that, I guess it’s just about how much that matters to you. If it’s bigger than the… the cost of sticking around.”

"I don't know. It's impossible to know what that cost will be, before it is."

It glances around for a moment, as if considering trying to wedge itself into a chair despite being in its bulky armor, because standing over Phil while it talks is getting just a little weird.

"I don't know how to be cared about."

"It takes practice. Like everything does."

Some people are a practiced hand at it from birth. The rest of them aren't so lucky.

"I think a place to start is... letting people help. Even when you think it's unnecessary or undeserved. It doesn't hurt anybody and it makes them feel better. Anything that's both of those things is never a waste of time or energy."

He's a guy lucky enough to have gotten to know so many people that even relatively obscured motions like that usually read well, so Phil does pick up on the slightly awkward gesture about their current placement. Yeah, that is kind of weird, huh.

"We can move somewhere else, if you want to."

"I don't know where else to go. I need to be in the armor to be ready in case someone needs help. I'm on duty now. I'm always on duty now, unless I'm recharging. We're in a crisis, and I'm built for those."

Is it a good idea for someone in its current mental state to be on active duty? Who knows, but it's better to be needed, isn't it?

It's probably not better, but it is nice to be needed (though usefulness is not a stable bridge to meaningfulness). It's great to be of service. And... if this is providing familiarity and stability to SecUnit, Phil doesn't know if he can or should try to discourage it, especially given what's been going on.

He does, of course, also notice how it addresses his second concern and nothing he'd said before that.

"Well, I appreciate your help. Really. It's... I'm not used to handling things like this." No matter how many times he's been through it. He stands, sighing. "I'm gonna go get a drink."

It's more of an excuse to put them back on even footing than it is to actually drink, but he honestly could use one anyway. It's not five o'clock yet but he thinks he gets a pass. As he goes to the bar, he says, "What else did you wanna talk about?"

Not dismissed, not just yet.

"I'm not sure I had anything else. I just. Sort of. Wanted to say something. To someone."

Its gaze follows Phil as he moves, head turning to indicate where it's looking. Face still hidden, as it prefers.

"And I'm glad you did," he says, turning to look at SecUnit while he gets himself a glass. And he means it. He can't imagine this is something so ordinary or natural for something like it. "Really. And I'm glad that you see me as someone you trust enough to talk about this kind of stuff. That's, you know, who I try to be."

Try. He's just glad that whatever he's doing, it seems to be working.

He takes a sip from his new whiskey. "If... there really is nothing else, and you have a job to do, then I won't hold you back. But I'm always here if you want to talk again. You know where to find me."

And a little grin. "That's me saying I care."

"Thank you for translating. I would not have been able to tell."

There's zero sarcasm there.

"I care about you, too. How are your feathers growing in? I can't preen while in armor, but I can maybe make time."

Phil recognizes the lack of sarcasm and is just a little bit surprised, since it was partially a joke--but it was meant to be as informative as it was taken, too. There's a part of him that sees Murderbot as childlike in some ways. Not in irresponsibility, or loudness, or lack of coordination, or snottiness--but just like a kid, it's only been acting in this messy world and living a messy life for... well, he can't assume for very long.

And like a parent or a teacher, he's doing his best to give that space to learn.

And that offer is so sweet of it. He extends his ripped wing. "Slowly, but well. All of Dr. Watson's--Joan's, I mean, all those stitches have come out. The pins are mostly grown in. I'm not sure I'll be able to fly until the next month or two."

He folds it back in. "Reaching around's still hard, so... yeah, you can let me know when you have a moment. Don't worry about it if you don't."

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