heyboss | IC Inbox

He shrugs. He's not sure.

Some people I'm glad I can talk to. Other people, there's no point.

He keeps walking and takes a sip carefully.

If someone said they wanted to hook me since I hooked them, would you let me let them?

Sheehan looks over at the text and sighs. "No, Max. I wouldn't like that at all. Hurt can't be healed by opening more wounds, and people need to stop pursuing violent revenge."

Apologies ain't enough. Or they think I'm lying. I don't know what else I'm supposed to do.

He sighs. "It's true that an apology isn't enough. You need to show that this isn't going to happen again. Maybe you can help think of ways to prevent this from happening again. And there are people who won't accept that and, Max, that's their right. They don't have to forgive you."

I don't expect forgiveness.

But they want something. But I don't know what they want.

"What they want is retribution. What they want is to see you hurting because you hurt them. And that's not acceptable," he tells him firmly as he drinks his tea.

Then what can I do if an apology ain't enough?

"You do better," he answers. "You keep your nose clean. Do the work, work on yourself. Acknowledge that you hurt people. But do not let them hurt you back," he tells him firmly.

He's not sure how to do any of that, other than acknowledge that he hurt people cause he's not about to lie, but that last one-

He just nods. He'll figure it out when he gets there, he figures, and no doubt it won't be long. He'll just keep scarce until he's got something decided.

Okay.

He smiles, humming a little as they walk and he sips his tea. "Anything here look familiar?" he wonders, traversing the first level.

He shakes his head, careful to stabelize so he doesn't make the tea slosh too much.

But walking around is nice.

"That's alright," Sheehan says, his smile never wavering. "We have seven more levels to go." They reach the stairs and head down, one hand in his pocket. He whistles a little to himself.

Max comes off the stairs and looks down the hallway and Sheehan will see him freeze, his eyes focus on one particular door.

Then he turns to look back at Sheehan.

It's here. We can go.

He doesn't like that reaction. He takes a half step back.

"Which one, Max?"

He doesn't want to go closer. Not without a chainsaw in hand.

But he'll point down the hall, 208. To a rough wooden door that almost looks more like a broken pallet than an actual door.

He softens, following his finger to the door and - of course it's that one.

"Can I go and look at it, Max? You don't have to come."

He nods.

It's not dangerous. I just don't need to see.

Sheehan nods and gives him a grim smile before he opens the door. His stomach drops. The sight of it, the horrible knowledge that this was a place for a child, it hits him in all the wrong places and, for a moment, he's certain he's going to be sick. It's filthy, dilapidated, a deliberate attempt at cruelty by parents who had means but no will.

"That is not fit for you, Max. I - I have a proposal for you, okay?"

But he straightens up and comes back to Max, all calm.

Max, down the hall, just nods.

He joins him in a few steps. "Why don't we brainstorm a space together? Something just for you?"

The answer to this is just

????

Held up for him.

Sheehan tilts his head. "Do you want a place just for you?" he wonders. "I love having you in that cabin and you can continue to use it, though."

Something about it makes him uneasy. It's too much. It feels like a second shoe will drop. It feels like a trap. It feels too good to be true, too comfortable. He's scared of being too comfortable. Having Sheehan's cabin still be Sheehan's, so he has to be careful with it and it's not really his... that's fine. But his own place.

His own place that used to be that place.

What if it changed back?

What if the Admiral decided he shouldn't have nice thing?

What if he isn't doing good enough and the Admiral decides he has to push him to do better and he's strapped down again?

Eyes a little wide with fear, he shakes his head.

Sheehan nods. Easy. "That's just fine. You've got the cabin you're in now."

He takes a drink. "Come on. Want to keep going down? Just take a walk before we go back?"

That's a much easier question. He nods and he'll take a sip of his own tea. It's nice now, just warm instead of hot. Having warm beverages has been eye-opening. It makes his throat hurt less from the dry.

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