Pacific Rim OS: Drifting souls...

I'll Drift with you...

Almost noon. He hadn’t heard from her after she excused herself from Pentecost's office. He had wanted to go after her, talk to her. But she needed space at that moment. He had to respect that.

He found the desire to comfort her was still strong after these past few hours, and so he walked out of his room.

Raleigh knocked on Mako's door, two soft knocks. If she wanted to be left alone even now, he would back out.
He gave it 10 seconds, then turned to his own quarters. Halfway through turning the hatch on his door, he heard hers open behind him. Mako stood just within, eyes dry, back ramrod straight, a hundred different emotions brimming in her eyes. He could see her rein them in with no small amount of effort.

“May I come in?” He asked quietly.

Wordlessly she stood back, letting him walk in. She had finally managed to rein in the tears and all those feelings, which was when she heard his knock.

He took in her room as he turned to look at her. Spartan like his own quarters, but her walls were covered with schematics and drawings of Jaegers and components. Her desk was more of the same, and she had office supplies and very few pictures on the walls. A practical, driven young woman, and a rigidly disciplined professional. He understood how much losing control would hurt someone like her.

She spoke first. “Thank you.” She gave an almost imperceptible little bow.

“For what?”

“You caught me.” It had truly been a low for her, losing her footing like that. That awful feeling of being utterly drained, feeling she let down her Sensei, her family and herself like that. Years of discipline, preparation, even her simulator score of 51 kills and she wasn’t strong enough to defend herself from that onslaught of memories. But Raleigh had been there for her, holding her together when she fell apart. There was no judgement from him.

“You are my co-pilot,” he said simply.

Mako smiled a little at the simplicity of his explanation. She appreciated Raleigh being one of those rare men who were kind and fair, compassionate and strong and did not feel the need to hide behind machismo. Hansen junior was such a contrast.

Seeing her lost in thought made him want to smile for some inexplicable reason. No matter how much she held them in, if you knew what to look for, you could see them in her expressive eyes and little gestures. Approval, disapproval, amusement, delight, embarrassment. In the short time they had known each other, they had run the whole gamut. “Thank you,” he said, breaking her little reverie.

She tilted her head quizzically at that. “For what?” she asked, echoing his tone from earlier.

“For jumping at Chuck Hansen in my defense,” he explained with a smile.

She smiled back, “It wasn’t like you needed me to.” But she hadn’t been able to help herself. Chuck wasn't being fair, or remotely professional. She wondered if it was awful they were both laughing about it, even though it was upsetting when it happened; she wasn’t a violent person by nature. Chuck just had that effect on people, she decided. And she realized that her enjoyment was in sharing it with Raleigh, not in Chuck being beaten up. She had leapt to defend Raleigh and he had done likewise in a heartbeat.

“I'm sorry, Mako,” he said seriously, breaking the levity. “I should have warned you before we went in. I thought I had a handle on it after five years.” He hated taking the smile away from her face, but he had to say what he came here for.

“The things we bury are still there,” she replied quietly. “Even if you warned me. And I… I know. I felt it. You lost part of yourself. It is never easy.” She felt her transgression was worse than his, for she had had her entire life to deal with losing her family. He only had five years. “I am sorry.”

He shook his head at that. “You were coping with trauma from three different sources. Mine, my brother's and your own.” He resisted the urge to give her a hug; there was something she needed to hear first. He knew she was beating herself up over it and she needed to hear it wasn’t her fault. He knew her demons, both literal and figurative ones. The most prominent ones surely were the disappointment, sorrow, and the weight of failure that to her, translated to letting down her guardian and mentor, her family and herself. “First drifts are always rough,” he touched her shoulder lightly, “But the drift was strong. You know it was.”

Perhaps the hardest thing to do was forgive oneself. He could see her considering it. And then she gave him one of those smiles she had, the ones that spoke of quiet reserve, strength and a kind heart. “I know.”

“Sometimes when you drift with someone you feel like you don’t need to say anything to them because they already know,” he mused out loud. “But I thought I should tell you anyway. You are incredibly brave and strong, Mako, to have faced what you have faced and become who you are today.”

“Thank you.” She felt the blush warm her cheeks at the complement, before she thought to return it.

Raleigh found he liked seeing that blush just as much as he liked seeing her smile.

“You are, too,” she said earnestly. “You are one of the bravest men I know.” She didn’t have to imagine the strength this man possessed, as she had seen and felt for herself everything he had been through and pulled himself out of single-handedly. Even before she met him, she had known. And now she could see him, really see him.

He had come to offer her comfort and understanding, and felt the tables turn on him a little. She didn't have to say another word; he knew that despite her own troubles, she found it in her to feel sorry for him. The tryouts, the drift, the connection they had was effortless, as if they had been through countless battles together already. “This is rare, Mako,” he held out a hand to her. “What we have here.”

She took the outstretched hand in acknowledgement. The drift had changed things for both of them. Before the neural bridge, the attraction between them was something she wasn't sure how to handle. From the moment they met, the few mortifying seconds when she froze because she spied him shirtless in his own doorway, up until the sparring session. It was slightly unnerving, even though they were both utterly professional. Now, she didn't know why that ever was an issue. Being in Raleigh’s presence was easy as breathing.

“We’ll get through this together,” he promised.

She nodded, smiling again. “I trust you.”

They could hear the general commotion in the direction of the mess hall, coming from outside.
He released her hand as something occurred to him. “Miss Mori,” he said lightly with a bow and a smile. “May I take you out to lunch with Gypsy?”

He might have been asking her out on a date, another world, another time. She laughed a little at the mock formality, returned the gesture. “Of course, Mr. Becket. I would like that very much.” The many sides of Raleigh Becket, she thought to herself. This was different from the man she had studied and analyzed so she could find him a co-pilot. Playful Raleigh was something she hoped to see more of.

She walked out with him, and indeed it was like they had known each other for half a lifetime already. They fell into a comfortable rhythm, with him asking her about the renovations to Gypsy Danger. A lot better than she was when he knocked on her door, she walked along with him, happily answering them, pleased she could share it with him. Maybe the world was ending, but Raleigh was right. What they had in each other was rare. For however long they had it…