What Maine sees isn't normal. Not to him. He remembers Wash as a rookie: eager, awkward, and made of fire and steel beneath all that naiveté. The man sitting in front of him looks like he's been bludgeoned by life. Like he's half-ready to crawl out of his own skin.
Shit, Wash won't even make eye contact. What the fuck happened?
Maine grunts an objection: it's not how Wash normally looks. He sees the other man staring at his throat. Wonders why Wash is looking there, of all places. He tilts his head and lowers it slightly, trying to catch Wash's eye. Trying to read his friend's expression so he can figure out what the fuck is wrong.
Because there is something wrong. That much is obvious. But, without a clear enemy to take out, Maine's not sure what to do. He doesn't know what he needs to protect Wash from.
Another person might ask questions. 'How are you? What's wrong?' Things like that. Maine finds that they tend to stick on his tongue. He's never been good at emotional shit. Never been good at talking, either. Taking action is much easier.
no subject
Shit, Wash won't even make eye contact. What the fuck happened?
Maine grunts an objection: it's not how Wash normally looks. He sees the other man staring at his throat. Wonders why Wash is looking there, of all places. He tilts his head and lowers it slightly, trying to catch Wash's eye. Trying to read his friend's expression so he can figure out what the fuck is wrong.
Because there is something wrong. That much is obvious. But, without a clear enemy to take out, Maine's not sure what to do. He doesn't know what he needs to protect Wash from.
Another person might ask questions. 'How are you? What's wrong?' Things like that. Maine finds that they tend to stick on his tongue. He's never been good at emotional shit. Never been good at talking, either. Taking action is much easier.