[ He'll be a little longer than that, having stumbled into a conversation with Frank. But he comes back down to their quarters, all of them in a close cluster, and walks into Prax's quarters with the bottle, and his tools. ]
( is it strange that amos' mere presence makes prax relax a little more? he's just been browsing through the network, trying to read back on some of the stuff that's been going on since people first started waking up. it doesn't detract from the heavy weight on his chest, but amos' presence helps. )
[ Amos walks through Prax's quarters to his bathroom, pulling out a towel before starting to set up on the small desk. There's a knot of tension between his shoulders - from his conversation with Frank, to the idea of botching up the job and leaving Prax worse off than he was with the staples in, everything is making him feel under pressure.
He takes out the pliers - they're no surgery equipment, but they'll have to do - and cleans them off as thoroughly as he can with the towel, soaked in alcohol. Then, he turns around, walking closer to Prax, two fingers tilting his head and his surgery staples towards the light, a little smile on his lips. ]
( prax doesn't really know what he's supposed to be doing. amos is moving with purpose and prax is still, in the middle of the room, watching. in the end, he sits down on the single chair this room came with. )
No.
( he tips his head to the side, voice firm. he trusts amos. )
[ Amos nods; good answer. He has no reason to be worried, even if it probably be unpleasant. He soaks the towel a little more before pressing it to Prax's staples, gentler than he looks able to be. ]
Okay, hold out your hand.
[ Once the area is ready, Amos puts the pliers to Prax's first staple, pulling it open as carefully as he can, and then pulls it out, dropping it in Prax's hand, a little bloody. ]
( prax doesn't flinch at the sting of alcohol, but he flinches a little when amos pulls the first staple out, even though his hand remains open where he's holding it out and his shoulders don't curl forward. he's trying, jaw clenched, to be tough. )
[ If Amos notices how still and tense Prax is holding himself, he doesn't say anything. There's no point, and Prax is doing just fine anyway. Amos moves on the the second staple after dropping the first in Prax's palm, a drop of blood splashing on to Prax's thumb. ]
( prax is trying. he isn't used to this kind of thing, but he knows if mei were here and their roles reversed, he'd be telling her to be brave and not to be scared. he's trying to take that advice.
he has nothing to be afraid of with amos, anyway, it's just that it hurts a bit. it's just that it's a reminder of loss and pain. )
Yeah? Good. ( he glances down at that drop of blood and away again. ) Thanks, Amos.
Wouldn't want you looking like Frankenstein when you get your little girl back.
[ Another staple pops out as Amos dismisses the gratefulness, shaking his head. Amos swabs the pliers with some more alcohol, going back to Prax's head with care, big hands steady and precise. ]
[ Names - they matter. Maybe the monster not having a name made it even worse. Amos stays like this for a moment, just considering. Prax is a doctor, one that circumstances have been slowly turning into something else. Someone else. Amos just wants to keep him safe, help him with his kid.
Amos's wondering if he's the doctor, here, turning Prax into a monster like he himself is. ]
Well. You'll have a scar, but you'll look like Prax.
( prax can't guess at what's going on in amos' mind. even if he could — he's admittedly still preoccupied with everything else. with mei, first and foremost. with how much being here will hurt his progress in that regard. they were so close to io before. now he's here. he's preoccupied with that, too. worried about the implications of it.
no, scared.
but amos' presence helps with that. )
That's something, right? ( it's a weak attempt at levity. maybe all of this will only leave scars, but he'll still be himself by the end of it. he can only hope so. )
[ Amos pauses again, but then moves again, pulling another staple and leaning around so that he can look at Prax straight in the eyes.
He's never really thought about it, at least not on any kind of deep level, but he'd have to be blind not to see how handsome Prax is. It's not just that, either, it's not just looks. It's the look in his eyes, the hope he clings to, the love he has for his kid. It makes him glow from the inside out, to Amos, almost blindingly so. ]
It's something, all right.
[ Amos is no good with words. But he tries to show that he means it through his eyes, moving over Prax's face, before he moves back, and gets back to work. ]
( that's not what prax had meant at all. he'd been thinking of staying himself, not of anything regarding his appearance. if he knew that's what's going through amos' mind, he'd — he doesn't know what he'd do. blush, maybe. smile and look down or ignore it out of guilt for, what, flirting while mei is still gone?
he has no idea. he does know that amos is looking at him in a way that makes something inside his stomach clench. amos carries an intensity in him that prax used to find scary. now, it isn't fear sitting inside his chest, though he can't, won't name what it is. )
Thanks. ( he says after a while, repeating himself, meaning both the words and amos helping him. )
[ Amos draws a breath through his nose, focusing on the work he's doing rather than the look on Prax's face, the slight twitch in his fingers whenever Amos pulls out another staple, the way his breath hitches.
He's never even thought about it before. Now it feels hard to ignore. He squashes it though, best he can, and smirks, more of a private smile for himself than anything else. ]
You're welcome. You know we got doctors here though, don't you?
[ If Amos is pleased that Prax came to him, he doesn't let it come through in his voice. ]
( he hadn't known, but he also hadn't bothered to find out. he'd just gone straight to amos. )
I didn't really think about it. ( he admits after a moment. is it strange that his world has narrowed down so much lately, that he's already unused to being able to go to someone other than the crew of the roci, other than amos in particular? )
[ Amos smiles to himself. He likes that Prax seeks him out, because Prax tends to be at the forefront of his thoughts, too. It's a give and take thing. He thinks about Prax all the time, and apparently, Prax thinks about him a lot, too. ]
You're lucky I've got experience with this. I could do a botched up job.
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[ He'll be a little longer than that, having stumbled into a conversation with Frank. But he comes back down to their quarters, all of them in a close cluster, and walks into Prax's quarters with the bottle, and his tools. ]
Ready, Doc?
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As ready as I'll ever be.
( a beat. ) Have you done this before?
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He takes out the pliers - they're no surgery equipment, but they'll have to do - and cleans them off as thoroughly as he can with the towel, soaked in alcohol. Then, he turns around, walking closer to Prax, two fingers tilting his head and his surgery staples towards the light, a little smile on his lips. ]
On myself, yeah. You worried?
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No.
( he tips his head to the side, voice firm. he trusts amos. )
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Okay, hold out your hand.
[ Once the area is ready, Amos puts the pliers to Prax's first staple, pulling it open as carefully as he can, and then pulls it out, dropping it in Prax's hand, a little bloody. ]
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Looks like it's healing well.
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he has nothing to be afraid of with amos, anyway, it's just that it hurts a bit. it's just that it's a reminder of loss and pain. )
Yeah? Good. ( he glances down at that drop of blood and away again. ) Thanks, Amos.
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[ Another staple pops out as Amos dismisses the gratefulness, shaking his head. Amos swabs the pliers with some more alcohol, going back to Prax's head with care, big hands steady and precise. ]
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( prax replies, a little absent-mindedly, distracted by what's going on up there. )
The monster didn't have a name.
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Damn, that's right.
[ Names - they matter. Maybe the monster not having a name made it even worse. Amos stays like this for a moment, just considering. Prax is a doctor, one that circumstances have been slowly turning into something else. Someone else. Amos just wants to keep him safe, help him with his kid.
Amos's wondering if he's the doctor, here, turning Prax into a monster like he himself is. ]
Well. You'll have a scar, but you'll look like Prax.
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no, scared.
but amos' presence helps with that. )
That's something, right? ( it's a weak attempt at levity. maybe all of this will only leave scars, but he'll still be himself by the end of it. he can only hope so. )
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He's never really thought about it, at least not on any kind of deep level, but he'd have to be blind not to see how handsome Prax is. It's not just that, either, it's not just looks. It's the look in his eyes, the hope he clings to, the love he has for his kid. It makes him glow from the inside out, to Amos, almost blindingly so. ]
It's something, all right.
[ Amos is no good with words. But he tries to show that he means it through his eyes, moving over Prax's face, before he moves back, and gets back to work. ]
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he has no idea. he does know that amos is looking at him in a way that makes something inside his stomach clench. amos carries an intensity in him that prax used to find scary. now, it isn't fear sitting inside his chest, though he can't, won't name what it is. )
Thanks. ( he says after a while, repeating himself, meaning both the words and amos helping him. )
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He's never even thought about it before. Now it feels hard to ignore. He squashes it though, best he can, and smirks, more of a private smile for himself than anything else. ]
You're welcome. You know we got doctors here though, don't you?
[ If Amos is pleased that Prax came to him, he doesn't let it come through in his voice. ]
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I didn't really think about it. ( he admits after a moment. is it strange that his world has narrowed down so much lately, that he's already unused to being able to go to someone other than the crew of the roci, other than amos in particular? )
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You're lucky I've got experience with this. I could do a botched up job.
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( prax tries for — not levity, exactly, but at least something akin to a joke. )
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You'd pull it off.
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( the words come easily, if a little absent-mindedly. he's busy trying not to read into amos' words. )
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You can't say that if you've got nothing to prove it. It's like me saying I used to be fat.
[ It's a lie. ]
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[ This is what he likes, hanging out with Prax. The conversation is inconsequential, flowing easily, even if it barely makes any sense.
Still, all things come to an end. The thought feels bittersweet when Amos pulls the last staple out of Prax's skin. ]
Here. You're done. [ He deposits the last staple into Prax's hand, before reaching for the towel again, to run it over the side of Prax's head. ]
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( and then amos drops the last staple into his hand and prax glances down. ) Ah. Thanks.
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Then he thinks about Mei. About the uncertainties in Prax's life. ]
No. Never had enough to eat to get fat.
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end scene?