[And what makes her think he needs help? He isn't keen on it. He doesn't trust it when he doesn't know what to make of her--an idiot he can always trust to be what they are, bleeding hearts like Thor as much so--and as a result, the idea that this is for his own good as much as it is hers is laughable. Even were he inclined more to charity, it would still be ridiculous.
Granted, the idea of something else inside of his head rankles. It is a mistake made once, too desperately. A mistake he would defy Fate itself over to avoid it becoming a trend.
Which leaves him with little by the way of options. He can stick with the girl, suck up the distaste, and suffice with whatever that affords him in the meantime. Or, he can give into the distrust and split off anyway, which is like to offer more by way of finding something interesting, but there's no telling if she fancies herself on a heroic standard like Thor and his insipid "friends."]
I do not need help.
[He has to make this point clear, before any other. It's untrue, and the lie rings sharply in his own ears. He's always needed it. Detested the fact in its bare simplicity, asked for it when he'd had no other choice, and had been left for dead in the vastness of space because of it. Deserted, forgotten, unmourned, mocked, all for admitting the truth in one brief moment.
No. He does not need help.
But he gives pause for a moment, sizes Wanda up, and sifts through her words once again, to a small hummed "aha."]
...You know what lurks out here in the dark, don't you?
[Of it, at least. That much is certain. And it's already more information than they'd been given at the start of this...whatever this meandering is.]
no subject
Granted, the idea of something else inside of his head rankles. It is a mistake made once, too desperately. A mistake he would defy Fate itself over to avoid it becoming a trend.
Which leaves him with little by the way of options. He can stick with the girl, suck up the distaste, and suffice with whatever that affords him in the meantime. Or, he can give into the distrust and split off anyway, which is like to offer more by way of finding something interesting, but there's no telling if she fancies herself on a heroic standard like Thor and his insipid "friends."]
I do not need help.
[He has to make this point clear, before any other. It's untrue, and the lie rings sharply in his own ears. He's always needed it. Detested the fact in its bare simplicity, asked for it when he'd had no other choice, and had been left for dead in the vastness of space because of it. Deserted, forgotten, unmourned, mocked, all for admitting the truth in one brief moment.
No. He does not need help.
But he gives pause for a moment, sizes Wanda up, and sifts through her words once again, to a small hummed "aha."]
...You know what lurks out here in the dark, don't you?
[Of it, at least. That much is certain. And it's already more information than they'd been given at the start of this...whatever this meandering is.]