Leah sucks in her lips, gaze turning back towards the TV in an effort at avoiding Halisi's gaze. She brings the warm cup of coffee in her hands up to her knees, resting it there for the moment, steam gently rising from the mug. It's painful yet comforting to talk about him so candidly, reflected in the sadness in the smile that Halisi's words drag out, but it's no less sincere. "...He was a better man than he gave himself credit
#Leah'sHouse – May 13, 2020
for." she adds softly, unable to keep her mind from shifting towards memories of the man in question. Memories tainted by everything that followed, but fond nonetheless. That afternoon on the roof. The kiss. The memory is enough for embarrassment to creep into her cheeks as if Halisi might know what she's thinking of despite the doctor having no knowledge of it. "He-... umm-..." she stammers, hesitating as she reaches up to
fuss with her hair for a moment as she sorts through her thoughts, "...he made me feel like I didn't need to hide my biotics from him." she continues. The thought causes the smile on her face to briefly grow before slipping away, green eyes lowering to her cup of coffee.
Halisi takes a sip from her cup, gaze lingering on the liquid inside afterwards, a somber, contemplative look on her face. Leah's final words cause her to let out a quiet sigh, looking over towards the woman next to her with the faintest hint of a frown on her face. "You... feel that way often?" she asks, the question softly spoken.
Leah draws a breath in upon hearing Halisi's question, holding it for a moment before letting it out through her nose, trailed by a quiet, humorless snort. "I'm thirty years old, Halisi." she says, propping a restrained smile back up in an attempt at downplaying the question. "I'm not saying they're right..." she clarifies, "...but I've been a biotic for long enough to know exactly what the galaxy thinks of me." She says it so
matter-of-factly, a lifetime of cruelty making her all too familiar with how people can react to what they don't understand. To what scares them. But Damien wasn't afraid of her. Maybe he should have been... It's a thought that she desperately tries to dispel before it can take hold. "To know when I need to keep a low profile..." she clarifies before giving a small, dismissive shrug of her shoulders, "...But I didn't need to
Halisi nods softly, the level-headed reply reigning in her concern a little, but leaving an underlying sadness over how inescapable she makes it sound. As things come back to Damien she looks down at the coffee again, buying time to figure out her next words with a sip from the cup. It's hard not to draw the connection, and when her gaze returns to Leah her frown is back. She hesitates, wondering whether what she has to say would be
overstepping. Making unwelcome assumptions. But in the end she feels the need to say it. "It wasn't-... what was done to you, it could have happened to any of us." Her voice is quiet, soft, threading carefully. But she believes it. "They're the dangerous ones. Not you."
Leah's gaze seems to sink lower as Halisi attempts to provide unwanted comfort. Her smile remains. Polite, but empty. It doesn't quite reach her green eyes. She offers a subdued nod of her head as she continues to study her coffee before finally taking a sip. "It could have..." she agrees as she settles her head back against the comfort of the couch's cushion before tilting her focus Halisi's way, "...but it didn't." The words are
punctuated by a small, dismissive shrug of her shoulders. She shifts uneasily, as if worried she needs to get out ahead of whatever Halisi might have to say in response. "And that's because-..." she trails off as she draws in a deep breath before confronting the uncomfortable truth: "...It's because I'm not like the rest of you." she says bluntly as she meets the doctor's gaze again.
Halisi 's frown deepens, mixing with surprise. "Leah, that's-..." she trails off, almost immediately losing steam in the face of Leah's bluntness. She seems a little stunned. "That's not-..." she falters again, reply fading into a quiet, helplessly frustrated noise as she tries to find the right way to voice her feelings on the matter.
Leah offers another little shrug, almost apologetic in nature. But she doesn't allow the doctor to drown in her attempt at squirming for the right thing to say. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing." she quickly clarifies as if attempting to alleviate any concerns Halisi might have, a crease forming along her forehead, "I'm not saying it's a good thing. I'm not saying it's-..." she sighs, "...anything. But I can't just ignore the
truth because it's uncomfortable or inconvenient, Halisi. And the truth is that they chose me because of what I am." she continues, rather than accepting the comfortable lie that it was all just random chance. Bad luck. Wrong place, wrong time. Could've been any one of them. "They chose me." she reiterates for emphasis, her facade slipping ever-so-slightly as her voice cracks and she swallows hard in an attempt at
Halisi swallows, her expression darkening. Her gaze falls away from Leah, staring over towards the corner where the Christmas tree is standing. Her frown is back in force, deepening, and there's an odd discomfort and frustration under it. Guilt? "Leah, they chose you because you were injured. Vulnerable." she suddenly cuts in, eyes snapping back to the woman next to her in the couch. Her voice is sharp, filled with barely restrained
emotion. "Because they could get to you." Deep breath. It doesn't help much. "For goodness sake, I worked in the same damn building as Decker! I-... I should have known something was wrong. I should have handled your surgery myself. If I'd paid better attention..."
Leah's expression allows a hint of frustration to slip in as Halisi once again tries to explain it away as bad luck. Many of them were injured. But they didn't choose Damien. They didn't choose Jason. Both went through serious surgeries around the same time as her and- if the goal was simply to reign in someone with access to Redrock intel- Jason would have been the obvious choice. Yet they chose her. But as she watches Halisi
struggle with her own role in everything- or, at least, her own percieved role in everything- her lips curl into a frown, furrowed brow only deepening. Putting some of the blame onto Halisi was never even in Leah's peripheral. A short silence passes once Halisi trails off, the muffled voices in the Christmas movie filling the otherwise quiet room momentarily. After a few moments her expression softens as she looks back to
Halisi, her own frustrations pushed aside in the face of her friend's struggles. "There was nothing you could have done about it." she offers softly. Shifting in place, she leans forward to set her coffee on the table before settling back onto the couch. Turning to better face Halisi, she brings one foot to the ground, the other leg folded under her. "They brought down the fucking Collectors, Halisi." she reminds
with a tired, humorless snort through her nose, as if it would've been futile to have tried to throw a wrench into their plans even if she had known what was going on, "Do you really think shuffling around the staff of a hospital on some forgotten Terminus planet was beyond their reach?" Her green eyes seek out Halisi's, sincerity flooding them as she attempts to alleviate the doctor of any undue guilt with a small tilt
Halisi shrinks a little in her seat when the focus shifts to her, looking uncomfortable with Leah's reassurance. She turns her mug a little, watching liquid inside shift until the final addition prompts her to meet Leah's gaze. "I do." she admits quietly, flashing a small, sad smile. A shrug accompanies the words, and she looks away again, towards the TV. "I certainly blame them too, mind you." she adds with a faint, hollow laugh. "But...
it's my responsibility to take care of all of you. And the fact is I failed to do that." she says, before looking back to Leah and adding "Maybe you're right." with a brief, stalling raise of a hand, as if sensing the potential for an upcoming protest. "Maybe it wouldn't have made any difference. But we'll never know, will we?"
Leah listens, familiarity in Halisi's confession to being pulled in two directions. Unable to keep from sharing the blame with Cerberus. It's a burden she knows all too well. Just as predicted, Leah opens her mouth to speak up before she's halted by Halisi's gesture, causing her to bite back on her words with a small frown. The doctor's question causes her gaze to lower to the space between them. "...No..." she sighs quietly,
Halisi draws in a deep breath as she looks back to the TV, before letting it out in a heavy sigh, as if purging the painful emotions that have accumulated from her system. She rolls her shoulders and sits up a bit straighter as her attention returns to Leah. The smile that she offers her is small and still tinged with traces of heavier emotions, but it's genuine and kind. "I don't mean to say how you should feel about your biotics, Leah."
she offers apologetically, trying to take the focus off of herself again. "That would be... well, very presumptuous, and hardly my place." she acknowledges with a slight widening of her smile, a bit of self-deprecating levity in her tone, although it sounds almost brittle. "I suppose I was just-... I hope you know that you have friends here that care about you." she settles on, fixing Leah with a serious look, hoping that her
sincerity comes through. The emotional weight of the last few minutes has left a shine in her silver eyes, reflecting the colorful Christmas lights that adorn the room in Tara's haphazard pattern.
Leah rests the side of her head lazily against the back cushion of the couch as Halisi speaks. Her green eyes share a similar shine despite her best efforts to keep her emotions in check. The lighthearted acknowledgement draws out a short snicker and she reaches an arm across herself, tucking her hand between her side and the couch. The sincere addition causes her smile to pull back into something a bit heavier. More sincere to
mirror Halisi's tone. She offers a small nod of her head in an attempt at dispelling the doctor's concerns. "...I do." she says, fragile smile widening ever so slightly. "It's-... ummm-..." she snickers in embarrassment as she reaches up with her free hand to brush her brangs out of her face, the low-effort paintjob of her nails- green and red alternating- flashing across her forehead as she does, "...taken me a little longer
to realize it than I'd like to admit but-..." she gives another nod, brow furrowing, "...I do." There's a burden that comes with being a biotic that's about more than just the power of her abilities. It's about understanding the world around her and the way it views her. It's about accepting it and keeping it from defining her. It's an unfair burden. Cruel. And lessons learned at a young age taught her that it's often a
lonely life. A life where people won't be willing to give her a first chance, let alone a second. But that's exactly what Redrock has done. At this point she's lost count, maybe she's on her third chance. She swallows at the tightness in her throat. "...Thank you." she says softly, the emotion that sneaks into her voice implying that it means more to her than she can possibly explain with words.