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[anewlanguage]

You know, Dean? Dean, you might be right. Maybe half right.

[Some six hours after Barbara's post, Cain is completely stinking drunk. But he's also feeling more sociable, and between swigs or statements he hums a song, occasionally mumbling the lyrics.]

...Hit her foot against a splinter,
Fell into the foaming brine...

I'm not rethinking stopping being a pacifist, but I oughta say I'm feeling like doing target practice, and the boat's not real steady under my feet, you get what I mean. So hurry on down, clear out my gun cache.

Knives, too.

[He takes a healthy swallow from the bottle.]

dreadful sorry, Clementine...

[The feed cuts about halfway through that chorus

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[spam]

[routemistress]

[It's one of the things that delights her about Cain: how much they can talk over without speaking a word. Or while speaking any number of less relevant words. She could certainly speak her concern and support aloud, but it would only be noise. It wouldn't help. Holding her love in her hands, pressing it into his skin: it may not touch the grief and guilt, the rings of black thorns, but it can grow alongside them. It can ease the sting.]

I didn't, no; but I'm good at playing the odds and you looked like a good bet to me. All the rest...

[She pauses, both to gather her words and to work down the pressure points along the nape of his neck.]

I just keep moving. I 'aven't stopped since I were a little girl; this is the closest I've come in nine 'undred years and it's not like this boat stays still. There's no room for hate when you're looking forward to the next adventure. You just leave it all be'ind.

You know that. I've seen you angry; I don't think I've ever seen you hate.

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[anewlanguage]

[His eyes are still closed. In his mind he sees the pressure of her fingers as colored lights against a pitch black canvas. He may not seem the type to be into meditation, but he is, and this is helping.]

We leave a whole lot behind around here even if not much changes on board. And I'm pretty sure I've come damn close to hate...it's a waste of feeling, you know? It distracts you if you're stuck always thinking on a person and how they've done you wrong. I learned to let go 'cause I had to, had nothing to do with peace or harmony, just had to do with keeping at the top of my field.