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#Litae'sGrace – August 6, 2018
Elena goes quiet as Shane speaks, her gaze focusing on the beer label as her thumb runs across it. Not that she can really feel the texture. Rather than responding she takes another swig from the structurally compromised bottle, her attention turning out across the dimly lit bar after the beer is lowered again. She swallows again as she feels a lump in her throat, blinking several times. "Yeah... fucked is right. I don't-....
mierda. " She sucks on her lips, letting the taste of blood distract her. An uneasy snort follows before she shakes her head. Her hand has withdrawn from the bottle, grabbing the edge of the table between her thumb and the knuckles of her curled up, cybernetic hand.
Shane falls silent, merely focusing on taking a long drink from his beer. As the back room opens up and a krogan steps out- simply making his rounds to ensure there's no trouble for him to break up- Shane's eyes turn to him, brow furrowing. He seems to lose track of the conversation for a moment and has to silently remind himself to speak. "...Came out here for a vacation." he explains as he watches the bouncer. "Attend my friend's
wedding. Relax. Drink too much. Sleep in. Can't say I was expecting all-... this." He pointedly tears his gaze away from the krogan when it looks his way, taking another swig from his bottle. "Wonder how he's holding up..." he mutters aloud, his mind turning to Jason for the moment.
Elena lets out a quiet 'hmh' as she listens to Shane, once again grabbing her beer and tilting it to look down the neck of the bottle again. "Yeah..." she mutters, although the final comment causes her to speak up again: "He and his got home in one piece... got to see his wife again, yeah? Lotta people-... lotta people weren't that lucky..." she says, taking another long swig from her beer not long after going silent, as her mind
Shane's gaze once more turns to the krogan as he stomps through the bar- a single trip around the counter before returning to the backdoor- as he sets his beer back down on the table. Elena's words about Jason and his team making it out bring a certain comfort. At least at first. It's not until she finishes that it seems to settle in what she's getting at. What she had been hinting at earlier. "You lost people?" he finally asks
softly, the words coming out almost more as a statement than a question. It was pretty obvious to begin with given her interaction with Sam. Still, he knows better than to push too hard when it comes to something like that. So he lets it linger, leaving it in her hands to decide whether or not to talk about it.
Elena watches the krogan disappear through the back door, keeping her gaze out on the bar as she nods in response, chewing absently on her lip as she watches the patrons, and then the screens above the bar. She doesn't elaborate right away, but as the silence starts to strech on she speaks: "People I'm with... it's a small crew. They ain't soldiers. They-..." She shakes her head as she trails off. "Lost two. Ship's a whole lot
emptier." she settles on, rotating her bottle a little before taking a slow sip, still looking out across the bar.
Shane rotates his bottle in place against the table, studying it absently as Elena speaks. "Were you close?" he asks. It's not a question that really needs an answer. Small ship. Chances are high that they were tight knit. Especially given the fact that she's cooped up in a dive bar drowning her sorrows. Just an invitation to keep talking.
Elena snorts quietly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth for a moment. Of course they had been. Well... James had been. Losing him had shook everyone. And Lucy... She ponders her reply silently for a moment before sighing. "You don't gotta do that. It's-... doesn't matter." she says with a shake of her head. Her gaze falls to her beer as she tilts it again, letting different parts of the bottom touch the table as
she turns it in place. "Talking doesn't fix shit." She lifts her thankfully-still-intact bottle and looks it over. "Drinking might..." she mutters with a hollow snicker before raising it to her lips and emptying the remainder of the contents.
Shane forces his smirk into place, giving a short snicker of his own. "Maybe. Maybe not." he says with a shrug. "But if that's what you want? I'll keep the rounds coming all night. Elena." he says with a glance to her, putting some goofy Spanish flair on her name. But he doesn't push. He opened the door. Whether or not she wants to step through is up to her. The truth is just that different people handle loss in different ways.
Some talk. Some cry. Some drink. Some... run off on their own to walk through the cold. It wasn't his place- especially wasn't his place, someone who is little more than a stranger from a one-night stand- to ask her to spill her guts. But drinks? Drinks he can handle.