[ At first, Arthur wonders how on earth John's managed to go so long and figure out so little. Like, what the hell?
Then the picture flips, and he realises that John's been stuck here this long and with that little information, and how downright frightening that must have been. This isn't the well-stocked and self-repairing ship with its informational muster that Arthur himself woke up on, and it was bad enough with those things. Has John even managed to talk to anybody? The idea of him being friendless here doesn't feel nearly as poetic and justified as it did when Arthur was angry. It feels more like Arthur had a duty of care, and royally fucked it up. ]
We should really talk
[ And then a moment later, another text: ]
But not on the phones I don't I don't like them there I'm liable
[ And then, after some internal back-and-forth: ]
My cabin let let me know
[ John's been in his head and in his eyes. His cabin, after that, is hardly a stretch of privacy.
Pathetic, isn't it, that Crichton dies for longer than expected, and suddenly he feels ready to talk to John again. But he's sure he would have felt the same if John had texted him before now. Definitely. Probably. ]
no subject
Then the picture flips, and he realises that John's been stuck here this long and with that little information, and how downright frightening that must have been. This isn't the well-stocked and self-repairing ship with its informational muster that Arthur himself woke up on, and it was bad enough with those things. Has John even managed to talk to anybody? The idea of him being friendless here doesn't feel nearly as poetic and justified as it did when Arthur was angry. It feels more like Arthur had a duty of care, and royally fucked it up. ]
We should really talk
[ And then a moment later, another text: ]
But not on the phones I don't I don't like them there I'm liable
[ And then, after some internal back-and-forth: ]
My cabin let let me know
[ John's been in his head and in his eyes. His cabin, after that, is hardly a stretch of privacy.
Pathetic, isn't it, that Crichton dies for longer than expected, and suddenly he feels ready to talk to John again. But he's sure he would have felt the same if John had texted him before now. Definitely. Probably. ]