[ No, no, it's not -- Mako fights him without thinking, caught violently under the undertow of her nightmare. No, don't take her away, she has to be here, she can't leave him, she can't leave, and it's a culmination of all the things they've never addressed, no, please --
-- but then his voice cuts through to her and Mako is shaken awake, eyes wide and lost and for a moment she doesn't remember where she is, can't place it because Raleigh's there, Raleigh's face is hovering above hers and there is no water. There is no lifeboat, nothing to hold on to but him, the growing awareness of his presence inside her head, with her, he's here, locked in with her and she feels his concern bleed through, the thoughts and his confusion and she understands.
It's little more than a dream, but it leaves her devastated. It leaves her shaking and lost and Mako should have more control than this, she ought to because she's better than this, she can't be lost in this all over again. But it lingers, agonising and she wishes she could shake it off, this beast that sits heavy in her heart and threatens to suffocate her. Mako doesn't think before she surges up and crashes into him, her arms coming around him tighter than tight because she's angry with him, she loves him but she's angry with him -- don't leave me again, don't go where I can't follow, Raleigh. We fall together. ]
[The force of her anger hits him harder than her grip does, sends him reeling. When they first met, that was probably the most angry with him that he's ever been aware of and that wasn't even angry. That was just a distrust of him, born of wanting to be in the Jaeger herself and perhaps being a little petty about not being given the chance. And even then, she just didn't like him that much and to be fair, he didn't really care for her and her either and those faces that she kept making until she handed him his ass five minutes later on the floor and his entire world seemed to shift on its axis.
He hadn't felt anything like that since Yancy and she's the first person to ever invoke a good feeling in him in relation to his brother in over five years.
So now when her anger with him is so palpable and so poignant he can practically taste it, a bitter taste in the back of his throat. It doesn't compute, for Mako to be mad at him, not like this and Mako, he's sorry you're upset but you understand why, don't you? She'd been practically unconscious, there wasn't anything else for her to do and he wasn't going to be selfish and keep her around when he could have saved her life. So he did. He made the choice to ensure her safety when he wasn't sure if he was going to make it and he's not sorry actually for doing that.
[ It took the fight in the kwoon to forge the connection, and the Drift to cement it -- and Raleigh's right on all counts, of course; her whole life had been about the Jaegers, about kaiju and the PPDC, about proving herself and moving beyond the rest to become the brightest, the best, that being Stacker Pentecost's adopted daughter had absolutely nothing to do with her belonging within the PPDC.
She'd gotten to where she was on her own merit, and her impression of Raleigh, in the beginning, had been slightly less than favourable. She'd watched him, studied him, dedicated hours and hours to find candidates that suited his style, and yet.
But that was all before they'd come together, before they realised that they were drift-compatible, and it had been an incredible feeling when they came together, each molding against the other to form a perfect whole. Raleigh heals her in ways she hadn't thought she'd been broken, fills the imperfections -- together, they were strong, together, they could do anything, and it galls her that it had been the right call; she understands he had made the right call, but the heart and mind had always been too different things. The nightmare is still fresh in her mind, her anger doesn't abate, nor the power of her grief, the sense of loss that echoes so powerfully in her that she can't shake it, and she half fears that this is the dream.
Her fingers come to clench in his shirt, her face buried in his shoulder and she tries not to cry, remembering her desperation with a damning clarity. ] I held you, and you weren't breathing. [ Can you imagine how that feels? ]
[No. He doesn't know how it feels. Only has an idea of it because he has echos of her pain ringing around his head because they never found Yancy's body. He never had anything to say goodbye to and selfishly, he thinks that he would have rather have had a dead body to cling to and cry on than to have the ringing silence in his head that followed for weeks after that night.
But this isn't about him and Yancy, it's about him and Mako and he's never told anyone that he's pretty sure he actually died there for a little while before his brother's ghost or spirit or memory or whatever kicked his butt back to breathing. Because it makes him sound crazy. But that's what Raleigh remembers. There's not much he remembers after hitting the escape pod button but he remembers Yancy, Yancy hugging him and then pushing him away because nope. Not happening right now, kiddo. Love you but get the fuck back there.
Hasn't even told Mako because who knows, he's selfish and anything of Yancy is like precious gold to him. He can't say, yeah I'm pretty sure I died too to her, not when she's upset like this.]
Yeah, because you have a death grip. [Raleigh says instead, running a hand over the back of her head, trying to be soothing.]
[ He tries, and it helps, just a little. Reminds her that yeah, she probably really does have a terrible hold on people. She shifts, releases him with a quiet exhale, when wakefulness and rationality take the edge off something so primal, so reactionary.
Deep breaths, and with wakefulness comes quite the embarrassing realisation -- she'd basically woke him from sleep and freaked out all over him about a dream, that the thing, whatever he'd done, should be over and put behind them. Mako rubs at her eyes with the heel of her palm, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She's never been in such a position before, and when she grounds herself, allows the dregs of the nightmare to thin and dissipate, she finally says. ]
I know. [ As fine as he can ever be -- with untold damage and scars and all the he quietly carries. ] ...Sorry. You should go back to sleep.
[Okay, so fine is a relative term. He's not dying right now, he's not planning on dying any time soon. He's better now than he was a year ago, and that's something but he's accepted what burdens he has to carry. Is totally willing to take her demons on too because that's what co-pilots do and it's not like she doesn't have some of his own chasing her.
Don't be embarrassed, Mako, please, not around him. As for going back to sleep? Well he's up now and that means he's probably not getting back to sleep tonight.]
[ ...He's like a puppy, running on that little sleep and all that.
Mako settles back onto her pillows; and yeah, maybe Raleigh's on to something because she's probably not going back to sleep tonight, either. She's thoughtful, her gaze fixed on the uneven patches of the ceiling -- it's going to haunt her, she knows, the possibility that she'd come so close to losing him; but she knows better than to give in to it.
She turns on her side to face him, frowning faintly. ]
...It's difficult sometimes. For a few moments -- when you don't know which one is real.
[ Mako relaxes further when Raleigh settles, tugging the covers back up over the both of them as she contemplates the question. ]
It never came up. [ It's not like she could just dump that on him one day, could she?
Usually the dreams were tolerable, things she can take on her own -- and when it's not bad enough to rouse Raleigh from his sleep, she sweeps it under the rug and keeps it out of sight. ] And it was never this intense.
[His other arm settles around her waist easily, just another point of contact between them. He wants to say, since when does that matter but no, she has a point. It'd be kind of weird to have that dumped on him out of nowhere but no weirder than being woken up in the middle of the night by her and they're co-pilots. Nothing's off the table.]
Wish I could say those got better with time.
[Which she knows, the nightmares don't. Not when they're born of losing a co-pilot, for a few seconds or for forever, that kind of fear and loss doesn't go anywhere.]
[ Because Mako isn't an idealist, not in any sense of the word, and they both know better than to embrace the precious, precious lie that time could heal all wounds.
No, it doesn't go away. They've both lost family, they've both lost everything that could have mattered to them, and their wounds are things time cannot touch. Mako moves closer without thinking, seeking warmth, their connection. The weight of his arm is reassurance, and she exhales, her thoughts on him and Yancy, on what she'd seen in the Drift, and all that he had endured in silence.
Her hand brushes over the circuit burns on his bicep, the scars that would never go away.] You're not a very good liar.
[Raleigh laughs softly at that, because he knows he's a pretty shitty liar. It's something he's accepted about himself, never really considered to be anything like a fault. He just can't lie, doesn't like to lie, doesn't see the point in lying.
A thin thread of tension runs through him when she touches his scars, like it always does when anyone touches it or tries to, but he doesn't shake her hand off. She's probably the only one he would let do that.]
[ She knows. She likes that he's as honest as they come -- it's such a rare trait these days, and Mako appreciates it whenever it comes along. She pauses, aware of what it does to him, how her touch introduces that same flicker of tension; a visceral reminder of what happened that day in Anchorage.
She exhales, because nothing could compare to having a loved one die in his head, and presses her forehead to his chest. ] You're not alone. Not anymore.
[ She knows he knows that, but it never hurts to offer a reminder now and then. ]
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-- but then his voice cuts through to her and Mako is shaken awake, eyes wide and lost and for a moment she doesn't remember where she is, can't place it because Raleigh's there, Raleigh's face is hovering above hers and there is no water. There is no lifeboat, nothing to hold on to but him, the growing awareness of his presence inside her head, with her, he's here, locked in with her and she feels his concern bleed through, the thoughts and his confusion and she understands.
It's little more than a dream, but it leaves her devastated. It leaves her shaking and lost and Mako should have more control than this, she ought to because she's better than this, she can't be lost in this all over again. But it lingers, agonising and she wishes she could shake it off, this beast that sits heavy in her heart and threatens to suffocate her. Mako doesn't think before she surges up and crashes into him, her arms coming around him tighter than tight because she's angry with him, she loves him but she's angry with him -- don't leave me again, don't go where I can't follow, Raleigh. We fall together. ]
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He hadn't felt anything like that since Yancy and she's the first person to ever invoke a good feeling in him in relation to his brother in over five years.
So now when her anger with him is so palpable and so poignant he can practically taste it, a bitter taste in the back of his throat. It doesn't compute, for Mako to be mad at him, not like this and Mako, he's sorry you're upset but you understand why, don't you? She'd been practically unconscious, there wasn't anything else for her to do and he wasn't going to be selfish and keep her around when he could have saved her life. So he did. He made the choice to ensure her safety when he wasn't sure if he was going to make it and he's not sorry actually for doing that.
He'd do it again, given the chance.]
I had to, Mako.
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She'd gotten to where she was on her own merit, and her impression of Raleigh, in the beginning, had been slightly less than favourable. She'd watched him, studied him, dedicated hours and hours to find candidates that suited his style, and yet.
But that was all before they'd come together, before they realised that they were drift-compatible, and it had been an incredible feeling when they came together, each molding against the other to form a perfect whole. Raleigh heals her in ways she hadn't thought she'd been broken, fills the imperfections -- together, they were strong, together, they could do anything, and it galls her that it had been the right call; she understands he had made the right call, but the heart and mind had always been too different things. The nightmare is still fresh in her mind, her anger doesn't abate, nor the power of her grief, the sense of loss that echoes so powerfully in her that she can't shake it, and she half fears that this is the dream.
Her fingers come to clench in his shirt, her face buried in his shoulder and she tries not to cry, remembering her desperation with a damning clarity. ] I held you, and you weren't breathing. [ Can you imagine how that feels? ]
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But this isn't about him and Yancy, it's about him and Mako and he's never told anyone that he's pretty sure he actually died there for a little while before his brother's ghost or spirit or memory or whatever kicked his butt back to breathing. Because it makes him sound crazy. But that's what Raleigh remembers. There's not much he remembers after hitting the escape pod button but he remembers Yancy, Yancy hugging him and then pushing him away because nope. Not happening right now, kiddo. Love you but get the fuck back there.
Hasn't even told Mako because who knows, he's selfish and anything of Yancy is like precious gold to him. He can't say, yeah I'm pretty sure I died too to her, not when she's upset like this.]
Yeah, because you have a death grip. [Raleigh says instead, running a hand over the back of her head, trying to be soothing.]
I'm fine now though.
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Deep breaths, and with wakefulness comes quite the embarrassing realisation -- she'd basically woke him from sleep and freaked out all over him about a dream, that the thing, whatever he'd done, should be over and put behind them. Mako rubs at her eyes with the heel of her palm, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She's never been in such a position before, and when she grounds herself, allows the dregs of the nightmare to thin and dissipate, she finally says. ]
I know. [ As fine as he can ever be -- with untold damage and scars and all the he quietly carries. ] ...Sorry. You should go back to sleep.
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[Okay, so fine is a relative term. He's not dying right now, he's not planning on dying any time soon. He's better now than he was a year ago, and that's something but he's accepted what burdens he has to carry. Is totally willing to take her demons on too because that's what co-pilots do and it's not like she doesn't have some of his own chasing her.
Don't be embarrassed, Mako, please, not around him. As for going back to sleep? Well he's up now and that means he's probably not getting back to sleep tonight.]
Don't ever be sorry for that.
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Mako settles back onto her pillows; and yeah, maybe Raleigh's on to something because she's probably not going back to sleep tonight, either. She's thoughtful, her gaze fixed on the uneven patches of the ceiling -- it's going to haunt her, she knows, the possibility that she'd come so close to losing him; but she knows better than to give in to it.
She turns on her side to face him, frowning faintly. ]
...It's difficult sometimes. For a few moments -- when you don't know which one is real.
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Raleigh settles down a moment after she does, laying on his side towards her with his arm acting as a pillow even though there's already one there.]
How come you haven't told me about this before?
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It never came up. [ It's not like she could just dump that on him one day, could she?
Usually the dreams were tolerable, things she can take on her own -- and when it's not bad enough to rouse Raleigh from his sleep, she sweeps it under the rug and keeps it out of sight. ] And it was never this intense.
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Wish I could say those got better with time.
[Which she knows, the nightmares don't. Not when they're born of losing a co-pilot, for a few seconds or for forever, that kind of fear and loss doesn't go anywhere.]
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[ Because Mako isn't an idealist, not in any sense of the word, and they both know better than to embrace the precious, precious lie that time could heal all wounds.
No, it doesn't go away. They've both lost family, they've both lost everything that could have mattered to them, and their wounds are things time cannot touch. Mako moves closer without thinking, seeking warmth, their connection. The weight of his arm is reassurance, and she exhales, her thoughts on him and Yancy, on what she'd seen in the Drift, and all that he had endured in silence.
Her hand brushes over the circuit burns on his bicep, the scars that would never go away.] You're not a very good liar.
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A thin thread of tension runs through him when she touches his scars, like it always does when anyone touches it or tries to, but he doesn't shake her hand off. She's probably the only one he would let do that.]
You're too stubborn to believe it anyway.
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[ She knows. She likes that he's as honest as they come -- it's such a rare trait these days, and Mako appreciates it whenever it comes along. She pauses, aware of what it does to him, how her touch introduces that same flicker of tension; a visceral reminder of what happened that day in Anchorage.
She exhales, because nothing could compare to having a loved one die in his head, and presses her forehead to his chest. ] You're not alone. Not anymore.
[ She knows he knows that, but it never hurts to offer a reminder now and then. ]
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Raleigh dips his head down to press his lips against her hair for a moment.]
You're not either.
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It's time we got back to sleep. Long day tomorrow.