It’s a shock to the system, Wanda sinking into all the nooks and crannies and crevices of his mind and then having to abruptly yank herself back out in a rush, messy, the door slamming shut behind her, retreating too quickly; is there such a thing as telepathic decompression sickness? The bends. Her right temple thumps, and his left temple throbs. Stephen pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Sorry,” he says, apologetic in a way he isn’t often with people; it was the exact thing he hadn’t wanted to dredge up out of his subconscious around her, but that’s the whole trouble, isn’t it? Don’t think of pink elephants.
“You’ll probably— you’ll see his name all over the various Riftwatch paperwork and reports. He used to be here, too. He’s gone now.”
He keeps his voice as steady as he can, stripped of emotion and whatever hard-to-pin feeling he might have about that himself. Information. This is simply passing on relevant information.
no subject
“Sorry,” he says, apologetic in a way he isn’t often with people; it was the exact thing he hadn’t wanted to dredge up out of his subconscious around her, but that’s the whole trouble, isn’t it? Don’t think of pink elephants.
“You’ll probably— you’ll see his name all over the various Riftwatch paperwork and reports. He used to be here, too. He’s gone now.”
He keeps his voice as steady as he can, stripped of emotion and whatever hard-to-pin feeling he might have about that himself. Information. This is simply passing on relevant information.