[ He watches Koby for a moment more, before settling back against the headboard with a wince. The red welt around his throat is the most obvious, but there's bumps and scrapes all over, a cut on his chest, road rash on his back, all resulting from getting dragged through the grounds. He's not comfortable, and probably won't be for some time. ]
Then you don't need to talk. [Gently, assembling the tea from muscle memory alone, honey and bag and hot water.] I'll stay as long as you'd like and talk for both of us.
[Koby startles a little at Shanks's name, in spite of himself, breath catching a bit. He turns and looks at Tim for a long moment, thoughtfully, ears red, before turning back to making the tea.]
The ones who can bring people back? Like Alina? I can ask him. He usually has his own plans, but he's...we're...he'll listen to me, I think. He'll at least consider it.
Alina and Pierce. If Nami keeps her head down this time, she shouldn't need him.
[ Hopefully. The doctors need to protect those that have the most helpful roles, so that the most people can survive. Easier said than done, with any chance of Hawk choosing anyone other than Tim died the second that belt wrapped around his neck. ]
I'll ask. That makes the most logical sense -- we don't want to lose the witches or doctors or seers. If we vote smartly this round, they're down to half their numbers and we can figure things out.
[Koby scowls a little, points a spoon at Tim menacingly before dipping it into the honey.] Shhhhhhush, you. You're gravely injured, don't waste your energy teasing me.
[The blush spreads down the back of Koby’s neck, but -- he can't make the bruises on Tim's neck go away. He can't heal what's been irrevocably broken in this place.
So he crosses the room, tea in hand, settling on the edge of Tim's bed.] Yes, I like him a lot. And he likes me, I think? I think. I mean, he cares, I know that. He promised to keep me safe, no matter what, so.
[Koby makes a face at the term, because -- well, it's accurate, but it sounds very impersonal.]
I mean -- technically? You could call it that? It's -- more than that, though. Some of it's the way things were in the village and some of it is what he's been teaching me here, and it's all sort of become this...
[Have a waved hand, half-fond, half-helpless.] I don't know how to describe it, I guess. I care about him, a lot. [A beat, then, repeated, softer:] A lot.
[ Impersonal, sure. But leaves room for Koby to fill in the blanks. ]
That's sweet. Good.
[ If it were anyone else, of course, he'd have a thousand follow up questions about Quentin and polyamory and everyone's feelings about it all, but he's learned enough about these sailors not to. They behave as if it's casual, but feel deeply regardless. Sometimes Tim even admires it. ]
He's only thirty...something... [Late thirties. Koby doesn't actually know. Still, it's pushing twenty years. Wait til he tells Tim about his biggest crush at home, on Luffy's grandfather.] Anyway, he doesn't act old.
He's annoying, though, sometimes. [Taking his tea back and sitting next to Tim on the bed.] He drives me crazy, same as Quentin. Maybe that's my type?
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Even if she doesn't. It hurts to talk.
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[ The clock keeps ticking whether he wants it to or not. ]
Shanks, your friend. Can you convince him to save one of the witches next round?
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The ones who can bring people back? Like Alina? I can ask him. He usually has his own plans, but he's...we're...he'll listen to me, I think. He'll at least consider it.
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[ Hopefully. The doctors need to protect those that have the most helpful roles, so that the most people can survive. Easier said than done, with any chance of Hawk choosing anyone other than Tim died the second that belt wrapped around his neck. ]
You're blushing. You like him?
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[Koby scowls a little, points a spoon at Tim menacingly before dipping it into the honey.] Shhhhhhush, you. You're gravely injured, don't waste your energy teasing me.
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Come on. Tell me something good that isn't "are you okay, you should lay down, tell me everything you remember for the fifteenth time."
[ Take my mind off the feeling of the next breath being my last. ]
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So he crosses the room, tea in hand, settling on the edge of Tim's bed.] Yes, I like him a lot. And he likes me, I think? I think. I mean, he cares, I know that. He promised to keep me safe, no matter what, so.
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Are you two...?
[ Trailing off, with his eyebrows raised. You know what he's asking, Koby. ]
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Are we what? You'll have to be more specific.
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You know what I mean. Hooking up.
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I mean -- technically? You could call it that? It's -- more than that, though. Some of it's the way things were in the village and some of it is what he's been teaching me here, and it's all sort of become this...
[Have a waved hand, half-fond, half-helpless.] I don't know how to describe it, I guess. I care about him, a lot. [A beat, then, repeated, softer:] A lot.
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That's sweet. Good.
[ If it were anyone else, of course, he'd have a thousand follow up questions about Quentin and polyamory and everyone's feelings about it all, but he's learned enough about these sailors not to. They behave as if it's casual, but feel deeply regardless. Sometimes Tim even admires it. ]
You're into older men.
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But...you're not wrong. I guess I feel...safer? Protected. Less like the floor's gonna drop out from under me.
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[ Conspiratorial, rather than judgmental. Hawk has a decade on him, which Koby's well aware of, so he knows. He gets it. ]
Safety and experience. I like that too.
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He's annoying, though, sometimes. [Taking his tea back and sitting next to Tim on the bed.] He drives me crazy, same as Quentin. Maybe that's my type?
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[ He shrugs. ]
I think having strong feelings makes them more infuriating. I don't know how they do it.
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[So is Shanks's??? Koby, please.]
I think it's strong feelings, plus height, plus infuriating smiles. That's my working theory, at least.
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Speaking of height. Do you know Harry?
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I'm not sure. Should I? Do you?
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[ A little grin. Almost enough to make him forget about everything else for a moment. ]
I do.