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[ He gave her hand a quick, final squeeze, and let it go. Not awkardly, but because it would have been more awkward to keep holding it. ]

... Think you've got more questions than I do. So you can start.

[ He only really had one question, and he wasn't even sure he wanted to ask it. ]

[She lets out a breath. To be honest, she doesn't know where to start, so it takes her a moment or so to respond.]

I think we should start with Talissa.

[ He knew it was coming. It didn't stop the pang of guilt. ]

... It wasn't about her. [ He realised how that sounded, and grimaced. ]

I mean I - I ain't - I ain't lookin' for her.

[Bobbie crosses her arms, realizes that it probably looks defensive, and forces herself to uncross them.]

What do you mean?

[ It does look defensive, and inwardly, Alex folds away further.

Feeling like an asshole.

His eyes drop to his feet. ]

I ain't good at this, Gunny. I never have been. [ He let out a breath. Come the hell on, Kamal. ]

But it ain't - Honestly I didn't even think about her. Once. Not until you mentioned her. And I know that makes me sound like a goddamn asshole.

[Bobbie lets out a breath. She doesn't care if he's good at it, just that he tries.]

I'm trying to figure out how you feel about her.

[Because to be honest, barely talking to your wife for five years and then letting her think you were dead probably wouldn't count as a "marriage" to most people, but she's had enough conversations with him where he seemed heartbroken that she doesn't know what to think.]

[ He sighed, giving a bit of a helpless look. ]

If you figure it out, maybe tell me?

[ It was a weak joke. ]

I dunno, Gunny. When I think that she and Melas might be dead, and I left things the way I did... [ His expression twisted painfully, and the words just died on his tongue. ]

[God. Bobbie's heart twists, and before she can think better of it, she's reaching for his hands. This isn't going to be easy.]

I know. I know you feel guilty, but if you're still in love with her, we shouldn't even be having this conversation.

[ He looked miserable, and guilty, but he let her take his hands, his eyes falling down to them rather than meeting hers.

He was quiet a little too long, and then when he spoke it was very low. ]

... I know I should be.

[Oh. Somehow, she honestly wasn't expecting that.]

...But you're not?

[ He just watched their hands miserably. ]

I don't know. [ The honest answer. He didn't know. For multiple reasons. Many of which he also didn't know - not self aware enough to see down to them. But he was trying. ]

... I felt relieved, when you told me that I wasn't wearin' my ring. Pretty sure I ain't supposed to feel that.

[Bobbie runs her thumbs over his knuckles, letting out a breath, her voice softening.]

I don't care about what you're supposed to feel, Alex. I'm not going to think less of you. It sounds like you weren't happy.

I'm sure I was, at some point. [ He did pull his hands back, then, too self conscious to talk about one thing and feel another. He didn't deserve to be comforted, about this. ]

Happy, I mean. There were times. But marriage ain't really about that, anyway. And I never - I was never good at the stuff it was supposed to be about.

[Bobbie fights the urge to take his hands again, and just forces hers to drop to her sides. His explanation makes her frown, and she doesn't think she's following.]

Marriage isn't about what? Being happy?

[ He gave a sort of helpless shrug. ]

I mean - if it works, it should make me happy, right? But it ain't really the point.

[She doesn't even know how to respond to that. Bobbie isn't the type to really be interested in marriage, so she has no fantasies about it being sunshine and rainbows all the time, but... Jesus. Suddenly a lot of things are clicking into place.]

I'm pretty sure that's a big part of the point. What do you think the point is?

[ He slides his arms across his chest, looking off to the side uncomfortably. He wanted to crawl out of his own god damn skin and then sink into the floor. ]

She wanted a big family. You know. Everyone does, right? Duty to Mars. And if I'd just - hell, I don't know. Been better. Been a better husband or father - then I'd have been happy, right?

But all I wanted to do was fly.

[ He swallowed, feeling about an inch tall, and the next thing he said was so quiet as to be nearly inaudible:]

So there was no point.

[ They weren't his words. ]

[Bobbie opens her mouth to say... something. Anything. Nothing comes out, and she falters, fighting the overwhelming urge to hug him. She's not sure it would help, though, and she's worried it might make things worse somehow, so she stays where she is. She'd thought a lot of this guilt over not being a good enough husband, even before leaving, was just him getting in his own head, but now she wonders how much Talissa contributed to that, and she's torn between feeling terrible for him and furious at whatever idiot put this shit in his head. She struggles for a moment, but she still sounds upset when she answers.]

Is she the one who said that?

Gunny... [ The word was almost a plea, and for the first time in several minutes, his eyes met hers.

He was not going to be able to pin this on Talissa.

He couldn't.

Whatever fault was hers, his was five times as heavy. ]

What? The only way to be a good husband is finding a boring desk job and having as many kids as possible?

[No wonder he's practically drowning in guilt and shame. What a narrow category to pigeon hole yourself into. It sounds miserable, and she knows he'd be miserable doing it. But maybe that's easy for Bobbie to take issue with—she's never wanted kids, and she's always figured her brothers would take care of that family duty while she did her duty to Mars through her career in the military. That decision had never torn her up.]

[ He took a step back without even realising he did it, looking absolutely miserable. ]

What good is a husband who ain't even there?

[ He'd internalised this all years ago. ]

[There are a million things she could say to that, but she's not sure any of them would even sink in.]

Screw everyone else. Pretend they don't exist for a minute. What do you want?

[ He took another unconscious step back, obviously uncomfortable. ]

I don't know, Gunny. [ Not quite defensive, but getting there. Then, after a few more seconds of thought, and very lowly: ]

I just want to fly.

[Maybe she's pushing too hard. He's backing up like he's thinking of cutting and running, and she sighs, scrubbing a hand over her face.]

Sorry. I'm not helping.

[ He doesn't back up any further, but he sort of sinks into himself. ]

I just - I don't know, Gunny. I know that ain't a satisfyin' answer.

But it ain't her fault. I failed her, same way I failed Melas. The rest just don't matter.

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