goneawaycomms | Agent South Dakota

Her jaw flexes a little and she sighs, giving him a withering look. Despite that, she doesn't snap, or yell, just sounds almost... tired. "Well, we'd never have fucking found out, would we? You know, seeing as I was never going to get one."

It's not as if she hasn't thought about it. Command claimed they'd rate her for implantation if she did what they wanted, but she knows now that it was almost certainly just another lie. She probably always knew, if she were honest with herself.

But even then, she can't imagine how it'd be any different. They're just computer programs, right? It couldn't make that much difference overall, right?

"I know. I'm just saying."

York shrugs again, trying to resign himself to going back to spotting, but he can't. He's curious.

"Why do you still want one so badly? After everything."

South rolls her eyes and huffs a sigh, giving up entirely on the set she was part way through. She drags a hand through her hair and looks away from York, debating on just getting up and leaving, but she doesn't move.

"It's the fucking principle of the fucking thing," she says. "For fucking years I was strung along on the promise of a stupid AI. You think I'm the kind of person who just fuckin' gives up on something after that?"

What she doesn't say, what she may not even be able to say, is that giving up, after everything, turns everything she did to get here into even more of a mistake than it already was. Lying to North for so long, letting him die... it was all over these stupid AI, one way or another.

York is quiet for a long moment. That sounded honest. Maybe not the whole truth, but... a lot of it.

"No. But I don't think it's giving up. I think it's accepting that what they did to us was fucked. What they did to the Alpha was fucked. But it happened, it's done, and all we can do is pick up the pieces and try to find a way to be whole again."

He doesn't know if he ever will, without Delta, but he doesn't want to turn this into another play. This is just them, telling the truth.

South snorts quietly. "You say that like it's so easy."

She let her brother die and she has to not just live with that, but with the fact he knows. They may be okay, now, or trying to be, but she can't forget the look on his face when she explained what she did. That look ingrained her regret in her to the bone.

She rubs her face, wondering where the fuck all of this is coming from. Maybe she really should stop just telling North lies about socialising on the rig and actually do it, if she's talking like this to York she must be going stir crazy.

"It's not. But is it harder than giving up? Because giving up is definitely going to feel worse."

This may be the most personal conversation he's ever had with South, and he isn't even using it to his advantage. Goddamnit.

She rolls her eyes a little again. "None of this is that fuckin' simple, York. You know it, and I know it."

Every single concession she makes is like letting a part of herself go, or at least a part of the front she puts up. It's hard enough with North and he knows her better than anyone else ever will, so with everyone else...

She looks away from York, not risking that her face gives away more than she wants it to.

"I'm just trying to help, South."

It's obviously not working, but he's trying.

She bites the inside of her cheek and exhales, the kind of slow exhale of someone trying to keep themselves calm. But even she isn't sure if it's to keep herself from snapping or from cracking.

"Right," she says, her voice flat and balancing on the edge of steady. "Sure."

Okay, so she clearly doesn't believe him. That's great. York isn't sure what else he could say or do at this point to get through to her or if he should just stop trying for now.

"Alright. Are you done working out?"

He keeps his word.

She takes a moment to compose herself before she sighs and answers, "Yeah. Yeah I'm done."

She'd like to go a bit longer, usually, but the turn in the conversation has set her off kilter. The idea of keeping going with York standing around now feels like letting the guy poke around an open wound.

She chugs the last of her water and stretches out, wipes the sweat from her face. She feels much less pent-up than she did, she really did need this.

She even gives York another slightly begrudging, "Thanks," as she's winding down, even if she won't look at him.

Agent South Dakota

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