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Most people would want revenge for that sort of thing where Rey's from, too. Actually, most people would generally want it no matter where you are. But, perhaps, at least in Rey's mind, Faye Elms already had her revenge. Because dying is always easier than living, for someone who has died many, many times.

Of course, in truth Firo has Rey completely pegged on that note -- she does have an amazing penchant for reading into things the wrong way, especially in this case, when that way just ends up hurting more.

No offense taken, she sighs, remembering the last actual conversation that they had before everything went to shit.

"She said to try to forgive myself before begging for it from anyone else, least of all her." Resisting the urge to bang her head against the counter again, she clenches her teeth. "How the fuck am I supposed to do that? How does anyone do that?"

Because clearly it's such an unreasonable demand to forgive yourself.

Firo pauses, eyebrow raised because... that's just really weird. He's biased towards Rey, of course, but even so he could never imagine saying something that charitable if someone killed the woman he loved. Forgiveness wouldn't be in the question.

He thinks about it for a long moment, he really does.

Unfortunately, Firo isn't the best person to ask on this. With the proper motivation, he can commit pretty bad crimes without blinking an eye. On the other hand, he thinks little of lugging around guilt that may or may not be deserved for years. It's just how it is. "You could forget all about it. I'm serious. I know you don't like that stuff, but..." He shrugs and takes a drink.

"You're not gonna fix anything by hatin' yourself now. Not for either of you. I mean, maybe she'd feel better if somethin' happened to you, but then I'd have to go and kill her and I don't think you want that."

In most normal scenarios, Rey would hate hearing about that stuff. She'd shoot Firo a glare and tell him how little his solution solves anything, either.

Perhaps there are some exceptions she hadn't ever considered, though. And this just happens to be one of them. She's too tired and flustered and frustrated to try and find a veritable objection.

In spite of the subject matter, she scoffs at Firo's last comment -- mostly because, several years ago, something did happen to Rey, and Faye was standing right there with every opportunity to have her revenge. But she didn't, and that was confusing.

"Think she was right about one thing, though. How can anyone expect acceptance when they can't even begin to like who they are? Seems like a bit of a paradox, doesn't it? It's like trying to fill someone's glass with an empty pitcher."

There's the problem. Rey doesn't know how to not hate herself after all the things she's done. Why bother hoping for someone with their own valid reasons to see differently?

"C'mon, talkin' about it like that--" He waves his hand vaguely, but he means to refer to her simile. "--just makes it more confusing."

He's doing his best, he almost wants to add, but he thinks that bringing up how bad he is at people and their emotions wouldn't really help her right now.

"Anyway... I don't think it's like that." He thinks of Maiza, hating himself all those years. Firo and all the Martillos still love him. He thinks of Ennis, still regretting all she's done. Firo and all the Martillos and Czes and Isaac and Miria still love her.

...And though he tries not to, he thinks of the little feral child he used to be, the one who never even thought about being okay with himself. Somehow, the Martillos loved him too.

He taps his fingers on the bar and shifts in his seat, both trying to organize his thoughts and to distance himself from that one.

"...Maybe people can't always give that to you if you don't like yourself, but... I think sometimes gettin' it from someone else first helps."

Sending Firo a brief, apologetic look for her inappropriate metaphor, Rey frowns as she listens to him. She shifts her head the other way, cheek resting against the back of her forearm. It's not typical of her to slide into such a physical position, and one can guess that it has much less to do with feeling relaxed so much as defeat.

"Knowing me, I probably wouldn't even know what to do with it if it shot me in the face."

Speaking of inappropriate metaphors, that's really not funny coming from someone who has actually shot herself.

But, you know. That's just Rey, being her usual typical, frustrating, self-deprecating self.

He shakes his head. "But that's what I mean--you don't need to do anything, it just kinda... comes to you."

Fills you right up, if he were comfortable enough to borrow the metaphor.

He sighs and looks off to the side. Who is he kidding? How can he help her when he's still so confused about how he even got to a place where he could love people?

"...I know it's stupid. But I think you've got some people like that, even if they're not her, so... Maybe you can use us to fake it?"

There's him here and Orion at her home, at least. That's a start and honestly more than Firo would've found likely.

Rey knows that he's trying... and she appreciates Firo all the more for it. She never really expected much of anything from him at all, and he could've easily just stormed out of here in frustration and she wouldn't have blamed him for it.

Something he says has her turning her head back towards him, before finally pushing herself sitting back upright out of her uncomfortable stance.

"What do you mean by that, when you say 'fake it'?"

She's heard that phrase before, fake it 'til you make it, and she understood it in the context she had heard it in. Faking certain emotions, she can do. She practically has that down to an art.

Hey, she seems interested. Firo takes this as a good sign, even though he's actually not entirely sure how to go about this.

He scratches his head and shrugs. "Well... Okay, so, she doesn't like you bein' all down on yourself, right? So whenever you're gonna say somethin', think about if me or your brother'd get mad at you for it. And if we would, don't say it."

That sounds slightly better than he thought it would, though he still knows there must be something more he could recommend.

Stupidly enough, she can't quite say that it was the fact that Rey was being down on herself that Faye was referring to. Part of her just assumed that she was asking for something impossible, perhaps intentionally getting Rey to trip up over herself.

But then, she runs her fingers through her much shorter hair, remembering the way Faye had done just before apologizing for being the one responsible for Rey pushing her limits. What Firo was saying now made sense, and that makes it all the more frustrating.

Breaking herself from that train of thought, Rey flashes him a brief, awkward smirk.

"Isn't that about everything I say, though? May as well just take a vow of silence."

Of course, she wouldn't, but the joke falls flat when the small tug at the corner of her mouth weakens.

Rey assumes the worst about herself. News at 11.

Firo can't help but grin a little in amusement. "Hey, I think what you just said there wasn't all that bad... Try another on me, okay? And don't you dare shut up forever."

He never thought he'd be saying those words to someone. But he really does enjoy their chats and would be sad if they couldn't have them.

Part of her wants to just humor him, so Rey pinches the only two fingers on her right hand together and runs them across her mouth in a zipping gesture.

After a moment, though, she finds herself actually at a loss for words. She lifts a brow at Firo, slightly puzzled. "Well, now that you've put me on the spot, I really can't think of any self-incriminating witticisms."

It's not like she just pulls that shit out of a hat.

Firo gives her a mock pout at her imaginary zipper. Bro, please.

"What?" He shakes his head, but looks up smiling a moment later. "...I guess I should be glad, huh?"

But it's almost worse if it's so ingrained that that stuff just leaks out, isn't it?

He almost feels bad reviving their tired old debate, but it's the best example. He straightens in his seat and looks her dead in the eyes. "Well, don't say anything about not bein' human, to start."

Even worse, the fact that it is so ingrained, Rey doesn't even think about it before it comes out. More often than not, she isn't entirely sure why people are so upset over something that hasn't even happened to them.

That was before, anyway. Fortunately, she has a better understanding of such things now. Which makes it all the more terrible when she pulls verbal punches with the implications that she does so to intentionally distance herself.

...And then Firo just had to go and pull that card out of his hand. Rey just huffs at first, her eyes narrowing. She sees what you did there, bro.

"Really? That again?"

He sighs. "Whaddaya mean 'that again'?" Even though Firo knows perfectly well that feeling of dismay that comes when someone revives a problem that you thought or hoped they'd decided to leave alone.

"I'm tellin' you, it's still important. And if you don't want her to think you hate yourself, it's a damn good place to start."

As he finishes, he realizes that he may also be speaking for his own sake as well as Faye's. Though he promised her a little while ago that they wouldn't yell and argue like he thought they had to after her little 'lookit me, I'm the traitor' stunt on the network, this isn't something that they can let slip.

Drawing in a leveled breath, it takes every effort for Rey not to just abort this conversation entirely. But, like Firo, she's made a point to herself not to get as outwardly upset with him as she had before.

In spite of her best efforts, the whole zen thing can only go so far for her.

"Seriously, though. Why does it matter to you so much what I call myself? And what if not being human is a good thing? Don't think I'd have survived this long as a normal person, or-- have been all that useful to other people."

Rey winces, her mouth snapping shut at her own poor choice of words. She reaches for one of her remaining shots she had poured for herself a few minutes ago, switching out the bad taste in her mouth with... an even worse flavor.

In a stunning display of self-awareness, Firo knows that the reason those words make him want to punch a hole in the wall is because he's hearing a friend talk to flippantly about herself.

But it's just so hard to say that sometimes. Instead, he rolls hos eyes. "Right, because the rest of us "normal people" have no idea what the hell is goin' on and can't walk down the street without kickin' the bucket."

He pours another drink as he tries not to get too riled up. Rather, he takes a page from Luck's book and keeps his tone conversational. "There's another one, too. Start talkin' about doin' things for yourself, not just some other people."

Firo realizes that he's normally awfully preoccupied about that, even without the Family around. But it's different, his mind insists fiercely.

Rey comes close to slamming the shotglass down over the counter at Firo's reply, but takes a quiet moment to do so more gently instead, giving him a sidelong look.

"In all fairness, you wouldn't have the same problem most people would if they ran into trouble down the wrong street."

Firo also isn't what Rey would call normal people, either. But she keeps that opinion to herself, when she's already committed to the fact that she's not going to turn around and make this be about his own immortality in her stead.

Taking a moment to actually consider her words before making yet another thoughtless retort, she turns her head towards him this time to look him in the eye. "Let me rephrase what I just said -- if I was human, I would be dead several times over. In fact, if I wasn't the way I am, do you think I'd be here sitting next to you now after getting blown up so horribly that parts of my body were falling off? Or that I would be able to walk away from being hit by a speeding car without a broken bone or scrape?" She brings her two-fingered hand over the newer scar in her windpipe. "Would I be able to talk to you this way after being brutally beaten down by a mob and stabbed in the throat?" Her hand then lifts to point to her temple. "How about falling down a thousand-foot building with a bullet in my head, only to wake up two years later with a completely reconstructed body and the memories of how I'd died over and over as different versions of myself?"

Shrugging a shoulder, Rey drops her hand down to her glass and calmly takes another shot. She isn't angry, seething, or even shaken when she speaks, but talking as though she were just explaining something as simple as playing an instrument.

"Not saying all of this to be down on myself this time, Firo. Honest. Just, does it really matter whether I consider myself human or not anymore? I'm still here, and with you. Right now, that's more than I've ever done for myself."

Allowing herself to have a friend, that is.

Firo elects to ignore her first point. His humanity and durability aren't topics he cares to discuss right now.

He listens through her list, nodding stolidly at the end. "Yeah. You would. Because it doesn't matter what you're made of."

He's not budging on that. Never.

"That's great. It really is. Just watch how you go on about 'bein' useful to other people.'"

If he were the type to think about his words, he would have considered that wording more. Helping others is one of the most important things--he's call someone a selfish fuck if they tried to wiggle out of it. That is, if the person being helped deserved it. As far as he's concerned, a lot of the people Rey would help don't deserve it anymore.

Head slanting and an eye squinting, Rey just gaps at Firo, flummoxed by his resilience regarding the subject matter. "That doesn't make any sense, but -- sure, whatever you say."

Even where she's from, humans can't do what she does. And the ones who could survive such things were too far removed from their humanity that they became something else entirely.

With a sharp exhale, she goes to grab the neck of the bottle for another shot until her vision starts spinning, and she brings her hand over her face instead. After a moment, her shoulders just slump.

"Fine. And stop worrying about how I'm not doing anything for myself. Seems I've been nothing but self-serving these days."

Knowing Rey, of course, she does not reflect on this like it's necessarily a great milestone.

Firo shrugs. "It makes perfect sense."

He watches her go for the drink. "Why's that?"

He's not sure if she's talking about what went on when she went back home or stuff on the ship. Either way, he can't come up with anything that makes sense, though he's obviously not privy to every detail of her life.

Still having a hard time following Firo's line of logic, Rey only dignifies his answer with a scoff. Maybe in his own head it makes sense, but she has since resigned herself to the fact that this is likely one of those tired arguments that no one is going to win.

"I don't know why. I just know that everything feels a lot different now." She falls silent, mulling over the right words before she shakes her head and continues. "The old me wouldn't have had any trouble sabotaging our friendship a while ago, for one thing. And I realized that not being able to do so is one of the most selfish things I've ever done. Because the only reasons I stopped myself, other than seeing what it was doing to you, was also because I was afraid of what it would do to me, and I don't-- I don't think about things like that. Or, shouldn't, anyway. Didn't have the luxury of holding onto long-term relationships with people. Everything from all those old lives I've lived were just fleeting moments, and before I knew it they were gone. Now that I know about all the things that I'll never be able to get back, it hurts."

The worst part is that she can handle getting shot and blown up, but losing something that she can't just get replaced is a different sort of pain.

Firo bites back any number of retorts. Like hey, buddy, how about how he felt about that whole sabotage thing? But that would be too harsh, he thinks, and it would also require him to admit to those softer, more vulnerable emotions. No thanks.

Instead, he reaches across the table for her hand and, if she doesn't pull away, will set his fingers on the back of her wrist. He tries to shake off the feelings of frustration and instead focus on how he feels about Rey when she's not being a stubborn little mule.

Which is love. Love and fondness and happiness and no room for anything else.

Initially, Rey is braced for impact. She doesn't know what Firo will say, exactly, but given their relationship thus far she can hazard several guesses of it being along the lines of annoyance and exasperation.

But she's hearing none of that or anything at all, and actually gives a start when she feels Firo reaching out in place of chiding her with more words. Perhaps because words are useless as everything else at this point, except--

It isn't. Not now, with this strange and alien and overwhelming emotion that she senses passed over from him to her. And if she wasn't already confused about these things before, she felt herself at a loss ten times over. She doesn't want to withdraw from it, or from his touch, but she doesn't know what else to do, how to return it, or if she even should.

Now there's another pain that she's trying desperately to reign in, but can't in light of that horrible loss and confusion. A feeling of being small, afraid, inadequate.

Unworthy.

"I-I can't..." Rey hears herself stammer, unable to finish. Her fingers fold inward into a fist, the rest of her paralyzed to know what to say or do or if she is even capable of doing anything anymore.

"It's okay." He isn't quite sure what she means by 'can't,' because that could probably be a lot of things right now. He doesn't need the empathy link to know that she's struggling.

"I'll stop if you want." His expression is sober when he says that and he means it utterly. Physically, she's probably one of the people he's been most comfortable with in his life, but that's a small list to begin with. He'd still feel uncomfortable forcing anything on her.

He tilts his head and smiles just a little. "...But then I'd just say this all with words anyway, and that might be kinda annoyin' with how stupid I am with that stuff."

Not even Rey herself is entirely sure what she'd meant, or what she was trying to say. It isn't that she can't feel the same way as Firo, because she does. And perhaps that is the part that rattles her.

Shaking her head, she goes to move her other hand over his but freezes. Her vision's been cloudy and chest tight; she goes instead to dry her face with the back of her hand, feeling an only vaguely familiar stream of tears falling from her eyes. She hadn't even realized that they'd started since Firo went to touch her.

Despite that, she's forced a strained smile and a single pained laugh. Somehow, Rey finds the words to tell him, "No, don't. That's how selfish I've become now -- I don't want you to stop."

Wanting to love and be loved still seems like two separate things to Rey, one feeling more avaricious than the other. Perhaps the truth is that she just didn't think about how intense love would actually be; that she expected it'd be different for other people. But it turns out that it's not that much different, after all.

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