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[serialskiller]

Messages will be answered when I'm done with this episode of my serial.

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[not_the_last]

"She put ... something on my head, and everything whited out. And the next thing I knew I was on the ground, feeling like I'd just been riddled with arrows, which ... turned out to be the truth. The trap worked. It wasn't enough in the end, they still won, but ... they were slowed down by finding out what they'd done, and bringing us back."

A breath. "But I didn't find out any of that until later. That friend of theirs teleported the three of us back to Whitestone, and ... I spent a long time in bed, recovering. And then --"

She smiles, painful but genuine. "Then I found out that while Bell was still out, Trish and Kynan and two others went out to search for me. They didn't have any way to find me, all they had was a direction and I was too far away, but they tried."

[serialskiller]

"Were you truly surprised that they tried? They were your guards--they were there to be there for you."

It understands. Even after it disabled its governor module, it took the important parts of its job seriously.

[not_the_last]

"I shouldn't have been. I felt like everyone had left me alone again, and then -- then there they were. All of this fate-of-the-world business going on, and what they cared about was making sure I was safe."

She brushes a hand across her cheek, under one eye; a faint reflective gleam is gone, after.

"It meant. A lot."

[serialskiller]

"I understand where their heads were at. It's how I often feel on this ship. People I care about are trying to solve and resolve things. I just want to make sure they're as safe as possible while they do so. It's...as worthy an endeavor, I think."

It pretends not to notice the tears. That's also its job.

[not_the_last]

"You're quite right," she says, with a firm nod. "Worthy and honorable."

The endeavor, and perhaps also the one who serves it.

[serialskiller]

It quietly lifts an arm, making a small space beside it that's the right size and shape for a Cassandra to tuck into, should she want to.

[not_the_last]

She sees the motion, glances up to be sure she's understanding its intent, and then ducks under its arm and into the offered space. And for a moment she's quiet, just leaning into that protective strength.

"I think," she says then, slowly, "I need to talk to him. At least once. I'm still very afraid."

[serialskiller]

“I understand why you’re scared.” It squeezes her a little tighter. “I could…maybe give you a drone, so if it goes bad, real bad, I can come running.”

[not_the_last]

Cassandra draws a deep, shaky breath. "Yes. Please. I ... could carry it in a pocket, maybe? You would still be able to hear everything?"

[serialskiller]

“Yes. Literally just find the nearest drone and grab it before you talk to him. Or any time you think you need my attention with you. I will never be mad at you for stealing one of my eyes.”

[not_the_last]

She's still not very good at feeling safe, anywhere, ever. But now as before, it helps immeasurably to feel that someone cares if she's safe.

In a whisper: "Thank you, SecUnit."

[serialskiller]

"Of course." It very briefly rests its chin against the top of her head, holds her nice and close, closes its eyes.

This is part of security, too.