Yup, Amos is completely on board with her. The world was a mess; something caused a lot of people to die. In her case, a plague; in his, catastrophic rocks. End result probably about the same. He was fine with it. Got off the mudball. Was en route back to his crew. Couple of months added on to his final trip back to Earth, but other than that not a whole lot of harm or foul.
Except then Nadine continues, and Amos feels. Fuck if he knows. Nothing, at first. He gets that the lack of people was upsetting for her; probably wouldn't be bringing it up otherwise. Only there's no way for him to relate to her on that front. It's just descriptions of places. Doesn't really mean anything. He'd tell her as much, let her know they process things differently — that he processes things differently from most people — but.
Something churns in him at the idea of a house full of dead kids. Even if it was just from disease, natural causes, nobody really at fault, nothing to be done about it. Amos swallows thickly, that thing in his throat he can feel building up — not from anything Nadine said, just from being in prison, being away from his people, no idea no direction powerless — making itself all the more known to him. It's a different kind of discomfort. There isn't anything to actually do about it but wait for it to pass.
His voice is hoarse when he speaks again.
"That's good," Amos forces the words out. Swallows again, makes an attempt to clear his throat, a kind of faint... not a growl, but not not a growl coming out. He's got his voice back under control after that. "That you were able to help him. That's good."
Can't help but wonder what he'd have done, if he'd come across a kid while trekking along with Peaches. Just thankful it didn't happen. Thankful that kid had a Nadine. That there are people like Nadine.
no subject
Except then Nadine continues, and Amos feels. Fuck if he knows. Nothing, at first. He gets that the lack of people was upsetting for her; probably wouldn't be bringing it up otherwise. Only there's no way for him to relate to her on that front. It's just descriptions of places. Doesn't really mean anything. He'd tell her as much, let her know they process things differently — that he processes things differently from most people — but.
Something churns in him at the idea of a house full of dead kids. Even if it was just from disease, natural causes, nobody really at fault, nothing to be done about it. Amos swallows thickly, that thing in his throat he can feel building up — not from anything Nadine said, just from being in prison, being away from his people, no idea no direction powerless — making itself all the more known to him. It's a different kind of discomfort. There isn't anything to actually do about it but wait for it to pass.
His voice is hoarse when he speaks again.
"That's good," Amos forces the words out. Swallows again, makes an attempt to clear his throat, a kind of faint... not a growl, but not not a growl coming out. He's got his voice back under control after that. "That you were able to help him. That's good."
Can't help but wonder what he'd have done, if he'd come across a kid while trekking along with Peaches. Just thankful it didn't happen. Thankful that kid had a Nadine. That there are people like Nadine.