[ There's no fucking way that door's the one that brought them here. There's no fucking way a convenient door embedded into the rock of a creepy tunnel over a running river goes anywhere good. Ian wasn't exactly a horror movie fan, but he caught a few - enough to pair it with his experience in this place and know that the first thing they ought to do is flip that door the fucking bird.
They have an out. They have a plan. If it fails, if there's no outlet, they can always double back. If that door seals up behind them like the one they came through? There's no going back, only deeper.
He allows himself to be maneuvered in a way that's starting to feel natural. Switching hands and rearranging them to allow himself to be led, giving up on any fight about Mace making himself a human shield in the event of danger. It pricks a little guilt into him, but when balancing the scales against the relief and security he's getting from it? It's not enough for him to protest.
He feels good. Mace, that is. Mace feels good to him, doing this, deciding small things for them and confidently executing them without even asking. It feels like it alleviates a little bit of the stress Ian's wearing in his muscles, in his mind, in his chest.
He glances over at the anecdote, eyebrows lifting. ]
They- your parents? Why? Can you even... do that? I thought it was like a... you get what you get kind of deal.
no subject
They have an out. They have a plan. If it fails, if there's no outlet, they can always double back. If that door seals up behind them like the one they came through? There's no going back, only deeper.
He allows himself to be maneuvered in a way that's starting to feel natural. Switching hands and rearranging them to allow himself to be led, giving up on any fight about Mace making himself a human shield in the event of danger. It pricks a little guilt into him, but when balancing the scales against the relief and security he's getting from it? It's not enough for him to protest.
He feels good. Mace, that is. Mace feels good to him, doing this, deciding small things for them and confidently executing them without even asking. It feels like it alleviates a little bit of the stress Ian's wearing in his muscles, in his mind, in his chest.
He glances over at the anecdote, eyebrows lifting. ]
They- your parents? Why? Can you even... do that? I thought it was like a... you get what you get kind of deal.