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[The following is actually a series of three separate posts to the network; all three are posted in fairly quick succession, likely before anyone can reply to the first two, though they are open to comments.]

how do you make it so not everyone can read one of these things

[like thirty seconds later]

oh

[a couple of minutes later LOCKED FROM CERTAIN PEOPLE NAMED ELENA FISHER]

so a bunch of people use this system to pour their hearts out and get other people to do the same which usually seems weird to me. i mean just because you say it over the mid doesn't mean you won't run into people later and make it really weird and awkward. i don't know maybe that's just me.

except what the hell i'm pretty drunk right now so why the fuck not!

RIDDLE ME THIS, CREWMATES. pretend for a minute that you're a complete asshole who somehow got the most amazing woman in the world to marry you, fucked it up real fast like dropped a grenade on it bad BECAUSE you're a complete asshole, got her to take you back and start over and then fucked it up again.

what do you do? asking for a friend.

also the first person to make a suggestion that actually works can have some of my alcohol stash. everyone else can fuck off i'm not sharing.

[action options - feel free to go from a network thread to one of these]

[OPTION 1: DRUNK. Nate is pretty toasted as he wanders around the ship, but not so much than he has trouble getting around with just an occasional stumble. Alcohol tends to loosen his lips, so he'll gladly (well, not he's not real glad about anything right now) talk to anyone who makes the poor life decision to talk to him first.

[OPTION 2: DRUNKER. Jeez, he's getting to be a real mess now. Nate makes a trip to where the Mess Hall used to be so he can pour one out in honor of the lost bar. What a hideous waste of alcohol. Afterward, he visits the observation deck to drunkenly look at the stars, and will stay there.

[OPTION 3: DRUNKEST. Oh god he's so unhappy. Look at this complete wreck of a man who's making the observation deck a pretty unpleasant place to be. He is completely wasted. (Existing CR only for this option please—basically, if they've had at least one conversation, you're good.)]

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[ Well, those 'back off' signals were impossible to miss ... even for a man who had the empathy of a rock.

Adrien watched Nate for a long minute and then gave a small nod of his head. ]

Then that's your choice, Nate. But I honestly think you're going to hit a point where all the apologies, gifts and groveling is going to lose it's effectiveness with her.

[Really, Nate would like to be the kind of guy who can just open up about what bothers him. He'd like to not have these problems. But if he was ever that person, that version of Nate died with his brother.]

What makes you think it hasn't already?

Honestly? I was attempting to be optimistic for your sake and her's.

[ He answered with blunt directness.

Sighing softly, Adrien reached up and rubbed at his temple. ]

What are you afraid of, Nate? You've already admitted that you're in the zone of losing her ... again. Which is more important, your secrets or your marriage?

[ The last question isn't asked in a snarky tone, the way the words might be couched. It was a genuine question, open to either answer. After all, this was Nate's life and his choice. Only he could answer for it. ]

[What's he afraid of? Good fucking question. That he's going to lose her, mostly. That he already has and just doesn't know it yet.

It's barely even about the journal and the photo. They were the catalyst for the fight, sure, emotions he can't handle taking control. But things won't automatically get better if he tells his wife about his dead family. They were never really a secret, just something he pushed away and did his best not to think about. All the fight really did was make it clear that they haven't dealt with any of the underlying bullshit that's crippled their marriage. And that isn't nearly so easily dealt with as sharing his family history.]

It's just not that simple.

[ As the silence stretched out between them Adrien made no effort to force words into the quiet void. He suspected Nate's mind was swimming vigorously through it's pickling juice and the man didn't need him yammering at him.

Not that Adrien was known for yammering.

When Nate finally spoke, the doctor remained quiet for a while longer. His eyes were down on the sleeping face of the bahari stretched out on his lap and for a few minutes, he just stroked his fingers through the tracker's mane.

Eventually, he did ask. ]

Should it be? [ The question came quietly and in the next breath he looked over at Nate, brows furrowed. ] You're trying to tackle one of the biggest challenges a sentient being can face; coordinating a life with another sentient, opinionated, feeling being.

[Pickling juice is about right. He's certainly had enough for that. But it's also that this is a big thing to think about, and he's got to do a lot of thinking. That's hard even when he's not wasted.]

Jesus. You make it sound so fucking clinical.

Yeah, suppose I do. [ Adrien said in a level tone, but he was moving to lever himself up to his feet. ] It's a gift.

[ Called the gift of forever shoving your foot in your mouth. ]

Ever think of looking for the receipt?

[Ha ha. It's not funny at all. Nate looks up at Adrien as he stands, but doesn't move to follow him.]

Giving up on the lost cause?

[ It's alright Nate, he was still pretty close to the ground, even standing.

At the question, he looked back at the man. His expression was, unsmiling as ever but at the same time there was a relaxed, perhaps even ruefully amused glint in his eyes. ]

I don't think you're a lost cause, Nate. [ He said. ] And I don't think you're marriage is a lost cause either. No one gets to be in this [ he motioned at the man's general state ] much pain unless they care about someone or something very much.

And despite how it looks to you right this minute, I believe she reciprocates your feelings ... or I doubt you two would have fought so sharply.

[ As he speaks, he turns around so he's face Nate, hands pushing into the pockets of his lab coat. ]

But I offered you my advice, you explained why it's not a path you're interested in pursuing and I'm not going to sit here and harangue you about it. We've already agreed I'm not going to pester you for details about what's wrong ... so I figured this was the end to the conversation?

[Considering the black pit of near-despair that Nate's thrown himself into, these are surprisingly optimistic words, ones he hasn't really earned. They should be encouraging, motivating. Maybe once he sobers up, if he remembers them, they will be.

But right now he still just feels sick and hollow.]

I guess it is.

[Doesn't mean he won't keep thinking about it, though. Nate lifts a bottle and salutes Adrien.]

See you around, doc. Hopefully I don't end up one of your patients.

[ Though he expects the meaning is otherwise, a hint of dry humor sneaks into tired blue eyes and Adrien arches an eyebrow. ]

Disparaging my medical competency, Mr. Fisher?

[ Yes, he's an ass and uses the 'Fisher' surname deliberately. ]

[Ha! That actually gets a dry laugh.]

Wouldn't dream of it. But you've got enough people to look after already.

[ Nate was not wrong in that statement and Adrien gave an acknowledging nod. ]

If you could avoid landing in the MedBay due to alcohol poisoning, I'd appreciate it.

[ He agreed and perhaps slid in a low stress suggestion that Nate back off the sauce. At least for a bit.

However, he wasn't here to babysit the man and with another nod turned to head back towards Medical. ]

I'll do my best but no promises.

[He waves behind him and doesn't watch the doctor go. But he won't forget what he said.]

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