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Entry tags:

action | OTA

Passengers: Waver & You
Location: Infirmary/Loading Bay
Date: Backdated to Feb. 14th. Happy Valentine's?
Summary: Post-outing scuffle fallout
Warnings: Just one big nerd feeling sorry for himself.

Infirmary

[A shoulder sprain, a cracked rib, head and neck contusions, and a rather burned right hand. All in all, it could have been a lot worse for Waver, and it’s not long before the autodoc has him patched up. He sleeps through the process, desperately in need of rest in a safe place. His dreams are vague but tense; trapped at the edge of a desert cliff, the ocean impossibly far below, a charging army on the horizon.

There’s the beeping of machinery alerting anyone nearby as Waver comes to, good as new. He doesn’t move at first, staring blankly at the sterile ceiling above, letting the reality rush back in. He doesn’t seem awake until he picks up his right arm to look at his hand, which he burned twice in the fight, using the fire as a catalyst for magic. He flexes his long fingers, now unblemished and whole, before laying his hand on his chest. It’s another moment until he sits up, eyes scanning the room. Part of him was hoping he was alone, so he didn’t have to talk yet. Luckily for him, he was not.]

I, ah. I guess I’m all better now.

–

Loading Bay Observatory

[Before he can retreat back to his room and hide for a while to ~~sulk~~ write a very long, very detailed report of the incident, Waver stops at the designated smoking area inside the loading bay. It was cold, but right now that’s what he felt like he needed. It had a way of making you feel awake. Alive.

He’s in there for a long time, blankly watching the equipment mindlessly roll back and forth. As you approach, he’s finishing up one cigarette, which he stubs out on a nearby railing, before immediately taking another from his pack. He lights it up with a spell, using two fingers not unlike an old car lighter, holding them to the end until it begins to smolder. He pokes sadly at his nearly empty packet, sighing deeply, a quick cloud of smoke emanating from him. Only two left after this.]

Not good.

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Nothing to apologize for. You didn't take yourself hostage. Most people would be overpowered by three violent inmates hell-bent on escape.

[ He shrugs. He gets it, though. The feeling of responsibility. ]

[He shakes his head, frowning. It seems to be his default expression, considering the deep lines he gets on his face when he does.]

Ridiculous that I thought I'd be okay with three of them. Absolute dangerous foolishness.

[He thought this port of call would be quiet enough, dull enough that he could manage it. Waver fiddles with the cigarette in his hand, rolling it back and forth.]

I can at least assure you all that it won't happen again.

We all make mistakes. [ Lucifer won’t deny that mistakes were made - that would just insult Waver’s intelligence on top of everything else. But he’s accepting, rather than angry, or upset, or mocking. ]

Hubris is a hell of a drug, sometimes.

[ Again, no accusation. Just a simple understanding. Speaking from experience. ]

[Waver grimaces, almost arguing that hubris remark, but he bites it back. It wasn't incorrect. Instead he takes a drag on the cigarette.]

I just... I wanted them to trust us. And now we've thrown them all in solitary. I've set the wardens countless steps backwards.

Don’t be ridiculous. [ Okay, that does get a scoff from Lucifer. He’s not unsympathetic but that’s taking things a little too far. ]

They made their choices, and now they’re experiencing the consequences. Would you rather we coddle them?

[ He raises an eyebrow at Waver. ]

When I lived on Earth, I helped solve murders. When we caught a murderer, they often had very understandable reasons for what they did. Some, I even felt sympathy for. Does that mean they should’ve not gone to jail? A murder is still a murder. They were still responsible for their own actions.

[Waver shakes his head. Respectfully disagree.]

They never got a trial. Never got due process. Some of them claim to not even know why they're here, and we can't tell them. They don't need to be coddled, I just wanted to... respect them. Be on their side.

[A deep sigh.]

Do you think... Maybe, we should ask the Navarch if we can see their files. How can I help someone come clean, when I don't know what it is they're coming clean from?

The universe doesn't generally operate on due process.

[ Lucifer shakes his head. ]

They all know why they're here. Those that claim not to - at worst, they're just lying, trying to gain your sympathy. At best, they honestly may not think they know, but it's buried under layers of denial and avoidance that wouldn't be helped by seeing their file. In those cases, you have to nudge them in the right direction, but you can't just give them the answer. Because that'll turn them defensive, let them dig in their heels. It has to be their realization.

[ He pauses a moment. ]

I don't have files for anyone I deal with in Hell. I let them tell me. It's often part of the process, coming to terms with what they did.

[Waver nods lightly, listening, but his gaze somewhere far away for a moment.]

Volk... He's going to be my temporary inmate. I honestly believe him when he says he doesn't know why he's here. But I do think that's denial. Maybe something that was traumatic enough that he just doesn't want to remember.

[Waver had dove into this job head first, agreeing right away to take Volk on his first day. Now here he was many days later, wondering if he'd been too hasty. Was he really ready to take on any inmate, though, after this?]

Patience is the key, then. [He smirks derisively at himself.] That means I'm in trouble.

Maybe. It's also possible he remembers everything well enough, and simply feels so guilty about it that he's got to convince himself it wasn't really him, or he was forced to do it, or if he hadn't, someone worse would have, or any of a dozen other justifications people make.

[ Lucifer waves a hand as he says all this. He's heard (and made) many of those justifications himself. ]

Your willingness to give the inmates the benefit of the doubt is admirable, but you can't let that blind you to their very real faults. They all have the ability to change, but they have to decide they want to change first. And that often means forcing them to confront those faults.

["They have to decide they want to change first." Now there's a familiar feeling. Perhaps they just needed the right motivation, just like he had.

No, not just like. That'd be bad.

Waver takes another drag, looking distant again.]

I easily could have ended up in their shoes here. [That's debatable, but that's also not the way he sees it.] But I once had someone in my life who helped me change for the better. I can't say where or who I'd be otherwise now. I hope that I can sum up even a modicum of the same effect on the inmates.

Edited (those tricky prepositions) 2022-02-19 04:14 (UTC)

I was in a similar place, for a long time. Worse, even. I also had people who helped me see a better way. But it was, ultimately, my choice.

[ Lucifer also looks thoughtful. ]

And those people were all perfectly willing to call me on my bullshit. That's part of helping someone - caring enough to push them.

Tough love, as they say. [Waver nods, that fleeting smile returning for just a moment.]

What I don't know is what to do with someone who seems to ... [He searches for a term that doesn't sound too harsh, but falls short.] ... lack humanity. [Strangely, Malekith almost seemed reasonable compared to Travis, and Malekith wasn't human in the slightest.] Reaching someone who doesn't want to be reached. Someone who's given up everything but emotions of self-preservation. I'd like to think everyone here has something in them that makes them candidates to graduate. But what if they just... don't? The Admiralty is power, but not infallible. Not every inmate might be cut out for this. What then?

[Waver the detective, the puzzle solver, always with never-ending questions.]

I think it's far too early to say that about any of the inmates. They're all different sorts of messed up. Some will be more challenging than others. Some may need to find just the right warden, the right set of circumstances.

[ Lucifer looks thoughtfully out into space for a moment. ]

If any of them are beyond helping, I suppose eventually the Navarch will make that call, and send them back to their fate. But I'd hope they'll all get a decent chance to change first.

[Waver nods. Lucifer was absolutely right. Another drag, and Waver looks at the quickly-dwindling cigarette bemusedly. He couldn't even break this bad habit - what does that say about his future job here?]

A good point. I suppose the question I should be asking isn't if the inmates are cut out for this, but if I'm cut out for being a warden.

[He'd been drafting a resignation letter in his head since the moment he woke up from the autodoc.]

Why, because some inmates beat you up?

[ Lucifer looks somewhat incredulous. ]

Let me ask you this: do you think you deserve less of a chance to prove yourself than those inmates?

[That frown deepens at that comments, with Waver closing his eyes.]

I do think that "don't get beaten up by the inmates" should probably rank rather high on the list of a warden's duties. A rule which I broke within my first week.

[Cigarette now finished, and Waver looks pretty put out about it. He stubs it out on the railing like he did his last one, but with maybe a little to much force on it this time.]

Not knowing what I'm doing is a detriment to both sides. I don't want to give up, I just-- I need time. Time to study, to practice. But they don't have time. Every day they sit here, they grow more listless, more destructive.

Our duty is to help them. Some of us may get a bit beaten up in the process.

[ Period. He shakes his head a little. Much like himself, Waver is here trying to take responsibility far beyond what he should. ]

If you wait until you're infallible to even try to help anyone, then you'll definitely never help. And by that logic, not a single one of us is qualified. So you made a mistake. We're all making mistakes, all the time. The difference between a warden and an inmate, the way I see it, is that when we make mistakes, we should be able to own them, and try to do better. That's how we set the example.

[Waver looks sullen, that inner emotional kid in him showing around the edges of that frown and now crossed arms. Intellectually, he knows this, it's his emotions that won't let it go. That won't let him stop feeling like a perpetual fuck up. When he answers, though, it's quiet, biting back but accepting. Trying very, very hard to be accepting.]

I... I know. I suppose my next step is what to do with the inmates in question. I know they're in solitary, and while I don't think it's necessarily the wrong idea on the part of the other wardens, I just really hate the idea.

[Solitary as a general concept didn't sit well with him.

Waver looks at Lucifer for a moment, trying to relax a bit. It's still hard to believe that so far, the person on the ship who's been the most helpful to him has been Lucifer. Lucifer.]

I, um. Appreciate the help. I get what you're saying. I really do. It's just harsnto not just keep playing out everything in my head trying to get it right. Hindsight is 20/20 and all that.

If you can think of some more fitting consequences, by all means. But they shouldn't just be let off without something. They're not being harmed, just separated from the others for a while because they clearly pose a threat.

[ Lucifer's tone is firm and straightforward. He interrogated Travis himself, and the only thing Travis wound up with was a few minor bruises. As far as he's concerned, that's getting off lightly.

But then he sighs. ]

I know the feeling. There was a time when I hated myself so thoroughly, I turned myself into a monster. Convinced I deserved nothing less. I'd gone from avoiding all responsibility to claiming far too much of it.

[Now there's a statement that hits a little too close to home. It almost felt pointed, and since he's been beating himself up for hours now internally, and it lands harder than it probably should.

Waver didn't feel like a monster, though. It was the opposite - a pushover, a failure. A mouse of a man.

He doesn't succeed in relaxing, shoulders tensing up again. His voice is quiet, stern. He gives Lucifer a nod before turning to leave the loading bay.]

I'll be sure to speak with them all, at some point. I'll have a report completed soon as well.

[He doesn't turn around, but he does hesitate for just a moment.]

...Thank you.

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