Martin manages to bear the outburst without flinching, just blinking slowly as Gwenny seems to shrink into herself in the very next moment. This was inevitable, he thinks, and understandable, and possibly even something of a relief. The kind of anger she carried into the Archive doesn't just disappear. He'd come here with some intention to let her vent it in a more neutral environment.
He doesn't miss the way she rubs her hands, and in such close conjunction with the claim that John had 'stuck eyes all over everything.' The implications are easy enough to track. Horrifying, too. She should be scared; that was the Archivist's intention.
Christ, what a mess.
"I know," he says after a moment, and lets out another soft sigh. "I'm not saying it was your fault. Not at all. It's..."
What can he say? He won't apologize for John; he can't defend John, either, not without making excuses and justifications that John wouldn't make for himself, that Gwenny should not be forced to accept.
"It's complicated," he says, and hastens to add, "and I know how- how inadequate that sounds. It's okay that you were scared."
He thinks he's done coming up with questions for her, and he hopes she won't press him to maintain that out of some sense of fairness when they're not on even ground here. This is about what she wants to know, whatever she needs to know. He can't volunteer apologies or excuses; only try to answer the questions she's willing to ask. "Ask me whatever you want," he says, his tone a little weary but his look as direct and sincere as he can make it. "It's okay."
no subject
He doesn't miss the way she rubs her hands, and in such close conjunction with the claim that John had 'stuck eyes all over everything.' The implications are easy enough to track. Horrifying, too. She should be scared; that was the Archivist's intention.
Christ, what a mess.
"I know," he says after a moment, and lets out another soft sigh. "I'm not saying it was your fault. Not at all. It's..."
What can he say? He won't apologize for John; he can't defend John, either, not without making excuses and justifications that John wouldn't make for himself, that Gwenny should not be forced to accept.
"It's complicated," he says, and hastens to add, "and I know how- how inadequate that sounds. It's okay that you were scared."
He thinks he's done coming up with questions for her, and he hopes she won't press him to maintain that out of some sense of fairness when they're not on even ground here. This is about what she wants to know, whatever she needs to know. He can't volunteer apologies or excuses; only try to answer the questions she's willing to ask. "Ask me whatever you want," he says, his tone a little weary but his look as direct and sincere as he can make it. "It's okay."