( Maybe they shouldn't be given too much credit. Right now is an example of Ian only sharing because he'd feel like an asshole if he didn't. It's unbalanced to poke at Lance's vulnerable spots and offer up nothing in return. Sharing via guilty obligation rather than any normal-person desire to open up. Whatever works?

He exhales, ruffling a hand over his hair. Palm's a little dirty, but then again, so's his hair. )

I don't know, ya know? After they showed up... I'm... tired, and I think I'm at the point where I'm realizing this is permanent in a way that's more than just logically. ( There's knowing, and then there's knowing. ) Not just... being here, but the way everything... feels every day. There's no going back to the way things felt in New Amsterdam.

( That sense of ease, of safety, of connectedness. Feeling like himself. Even when he felt stressed there, monster apocalypse aside, it was on a different... lesser kind of level than what he feels here on a day to day basis. And yeah, he's been isolating himself in his work, so probably nobody to blame for that disconnectedness but himself. Still, shut up. The alternative's worse.

He shrugs a shoulder, one up and one heavy down. )

It sucks, but...

( It is what it is. )