Daniel's eyes drop shut in a clear pronouncement of despair. Suddenly Seth's discomfort with weapons, with military protocol, with the underground base, and his apparent natural ability for phase-shifting - it all makes a lot more sense. Experimented on. God, what did that even entail?
Something else, ominous and chilled, creeps into the pit of Daniel's stomach. If the IOA finds out about any of this - can he keep this from them, legally? But they could always check security footage. They could always - damn it. Daniel's civilian status won't be an adequate enough loophole if the IOA gets their hands on this. On him. On Seth. Fuck.
Daniel sits and looks at the man who has reached his limit, who is visibly trembling and at the very edge of his stability, and wonders helplessly how well the other version of him knew this guy. He wonders who much better that version of him would be at countering this, at subverting the amorality of an unfeeling government and cutting swaths out of red tape to let Seth walk free or, at the very least, not live his life in a closet-sized cell at Area 51.
The worst thing is - the cameras. Every room on this base has twenty-four hour surveillance and he has no doubt that this footage will be making its way up the chain of command. They might be monitoring them both now for all he knows. Now they know that. They know it. They know about the apparent suicidal tendencies and they know to keep Seth in a state to prevent them. Daniel doesn't want to think about what that might involve (it crosses his mind anyway, images of four-point restraints or a drug-induced comatose state because this man is technically a metahuman, isn't that fascinating, can we discover how that works) and he doesn't want to think about Seth, Seth who's been through more than enough for one person, going through that for any period of time let alone the truncated lifespan the higher-ups will no doubt want.
"Seth," says Daniel carefully, making conscious effort to speak as clearly as possible, but dismay renders the words dull and clipped. He leans forward, ignoring the tearing sensation that little stunt produces and the way he can feel the cracked bones skid against their fractures in his ribcage. "They have ways of preventing that. With the resources they have."
He's leaving that where it is. Seth doesn't need to hear more of that.
"I'm fighting them on this," he continues, each word a low desperate pull. "I'm fighting them as hard as I can and Jack is backing me, everyone on this base with a shred of basic human decency is backing me, but the point is that the IOA gets their orders from the White House direct. And I'm - not in the condition to fly there myself, not like this."
tw: more trauma, more suicide ideation, this thread is awful
Something else, ominous and chilled, creeps into the pit of Daniel's stomach. If the IOA finds out about any of this - can he keep this from them, legally? But they could always check security footage. They could always - damn it. Daniel's civilian status won't be an adequate enough loophole if the IOA gets their hands on this. On him. On Seth. Fuck.
Daniel sits and looks at the man who has reached his limit, who is visibly trembling and at the very edge of his stability, and wonders helplessly how well the other version of him knew this guy. He wonders who much better that version of him would be at countering this, at subverting the amorality of an unfeeling government and cutting swaths out of red tape to let Seth walk free or, at the very least, not live his life in a closet-sized cell at Area 51.
The worst thing is - the cameras. Every room on this base has twenty-four hour surveillance and he has no doubt that this footage will be making its way up the chain of command. They might be monitoring them both now for all he knows. Now they know that. They know it. They know about the apparent suicidal tendencies and they know to keep Seth in a state to prevent them. Daniel doesn't want to think about what that might involve (it crosses his mind anyway, images of four-point restraints or a drug-induced comatose state because this man is technically a metahuman, isn't that fascinating, can we discover how that works) and he doesn't want to think about Seth, Seth who's been through more than enough for one person, going through that for any period of time let alone the truncated lifespan the higher-ups will no doubt want.
"Seth," says Daniel carefully, making conscious effort to speak as clearly as possible, but dismay renders the words dull and clipped. He leans forward, ignoring the tearing sensation that little stunt produces and the way he can feel the cracked bones skid against their fractures in his ribcage. "They have ways of preventing that. With the resources they have."
He's leaving that where it is. Seth doesn't need to hear more of that.
"I'm fighting them on this," he continues, each word a low desperate pull. "I'm fighting them as hard as I can and Jack is backing me, everyone on this base with a shred of basic human decency is backing me, but the point is that the IOA gets their orders from the White House direct. And I'm - not in the condition to fly there myself, not like this."