#i never expected her to go from tertiary to primary i am Shook

[lingeringscars]

Layla has an intense amount of compassion, but she is not good with empathy. While the two typically go hand in hand, for her, there is a disconnect. she is able to feel sympathy for people, but she is not able to put herself into their shoes. She is not able to see why it might be hard for Asher to admit that he lost his money, but she is able to understand that it is hard for him. similarly, she is not able to understand why Olivia can’t just ... not drink. she doesn’t get that being around alcohol + the party environment is a trigger because...  the solution seems simple. 

While she loves Olivia’s heart and her ability for empathy, she is also envious of it. It is something she doesn’t possess. ( Especially when she is blinded by her own pain and fear ). While Olivia can see people struggling and put herself in their shoes, Layla sees them struggling and can fall back on the mentality that they made their decisions. With Asher, Layla does not understand why Olivia spent her morning getting him ready for the Combine because...that was Asher’s responsibility. As someone that has torn herself apart for responsibility, she couldn’t understand it falling on anyone else to help them out of it. 

In a lot of ways, Layla was struggling in silence. It is not on anyone else to have seen it before it became obvious. But in the pilot episode, Spencer mentions that Layla is lonely, and she automatically pulls away. It goes against the image that she has perfected, and it is part of why she is so desperate to get back in Olivia’s good graces. However, she doesn’t realize that things have to be different between them because she just cannot empathize with everything Olivia has been through. Partially because she is so outside of it all, as Olivia pulled away after it all, but also because she just doesn’t understand what that is like. she also just...doesn’t have the capacity to get it. Olivia could explain a million times in a million different ways but ... it most likely will not stick because it goes against everything she knows. 

This link between her compassion and empathy is especially strained right now because she has depression doing it’s own damage on her brain. she’s afraid. after her house was broken into ( another sign of her compassion for asher not extending to empathy. as much as she hates being alone in her home, she also didn’t want to share it with asher. she did not want that extra layer and burden and didn’t understand why it was falling on her. regardless, she feels a responsibility to asher as her ex and someone that was very important to her, but it is a lot harder to hide how upset she is when someone is sharing that space with her ) she felt this fear even more intensely, and she felt completely alone. she blamed asher, something that she does regret, and she hasn’t been able to completely come back from it. 

with her father throwing money at the problem, she fell inside herself. she destroyed her home again when finally realizing how alone she was. she blamed it on a second break in because she didn’t want to have to explain what was going on inside her head, and as people pushed harder and harder... she started crumbling more. she couldn’t see that they were trying to help her-- all she saw was them trying to infringe on her personal space. the more into her head she got, the worse it became. the more she started pushing against them because they were getting too close to unraveling what was left of her. they were pushing, and if she cannot hear what they are saying right now. she does not have that ability to hear that they care about her; instead, she is going to push them away first. 

this is where things..get really hard. Layla knows Olivia’s heart, and she is able to see things. Not to mention she has a history of projecting and pushing too hard ( see: the hottub scene in s1 ). she had to keep it together with asher for image reasons, on top of just clinging to this idea of him being this safe space: a memory. they grew apart, but she wasn’t good at admitting that. then she goes after Spencer because...she realizes that is what she wants and it is one of the decisions she makes for herself. but she is unable to see how that might impact or hurt Olivia, especially after learning about her & Asher. 

Instead of empathizing with Olivia and being able to see that it is connected into her addiction, all she feels is betrayed. and she lashes out about this because she is unable to see clearly. flash forward to current events: Olivia stages an intervention, with Spencer’s help, and they called her dad in. her dad, an automatic trigger for her, actually shows up this time, but it took the choice out of her hands. everything that she has been doing has been her grasping for control after her life spiraled out of control, and now spencer & olivia have broken that tenuous hold that she had.  she had already hurt spencer in the best way she thought possible. she broke up with him, yelled at him to leave, and then broke down herself when he actually did. while not fair for spencer, at all, it was confirmation that she was alone. and then they go to show that she isn’t, and she cannot see that, at all. 

and because of that heart that she admires so much in Olivia...she knows how to hurt it. while not knowing how bad her actions and words can spiral, she does not have the foresight to see that collateral consequences. All she can see is that Olivia hurt her and she needs to hurt her back. she feels betrayed and broken and, much like a caged animal, is lashing out because she feels backed into a corner with no control. and so she crosses line after line in an attempt to break olivia because then she’ll leave her alone. only then. and just like with spencer... it will be like confirmation that she is truly alone. she is not in a place to see anything getting better. she is not in a place to see that she really does need help. she is also not in the place to accept it. 

her kiss with asher is more layered that just hurting olivia, though. while this is a primary motive....it isn’t the only one. it is no coincidence that she does this only after seeing spencer with someone else. asher was this safe place for her, for a long long time. that ended, and there are no residual feelings there, but she hurt asher with spencer, and now she can hurt both spencer and olivia with asher. while kissing spencer was putting herself first, this was a last-ditched effort at control. she kissed asher because he reminded her of what it was like to be secure. she clung to him after her mom died because that was what was expected of her, but now... now it was just that place that used to be safe. that, obviously, did not work, and it caused even more damage. 

she has made multiple mistakes and has crossed lines that she will never be able to uncross and...honestly.. she doesn’t want to right now. more, she isn’t able to right now. until she realizes what she is doing/has done...which would be hard for her without depression on top of it, she doesn’t want to see it. she isn’t being perfect anymore, but admitting that there is something deeper going on that she is not in control of... she won’t do that. until she does, she won’t be able to mend these relationships, but more importantly, she won’t be able to help herself.

[secretsolenoid]

Four-and-a-Half Whys for Chakramancerrr

Four-and-a-Half Whys

A gift for @chakramancerrr, from Computronus!

The main engine room of the Lost Light was not exactly a pleasant place. The architecture was designed to accommodate the needs of the quantum engines and all the accompanying machinery and generators and consoles and whatnot. From the point of view of the propulsion system, everything was in its correct, expected location for nominal functioning. For most of the crew, though, it was a maze. What’s more, there was minimal comfort: the lighting harsh and utilitarian, the seating hard, the floors uneven. The ambient sound was the thrum of the engines, which could bore into the audial sensors after a while.

All of this was still not enough to deter Nightbeat. He was a detective, a deducer, and that sort of skill must be practiced, nourished, lest it grow stale. So, when he wasn’t busy working out the root cause of the latest strange occurrence besetting the ship, he drilled himself, and for such things it was good to have a motivating goal. For Nightbeat, that goal was Nautica, and the drill was to find her here, in her natural environment, where she had the advantage.

He had observed what he could, on the occasional excursions he’d taken here with her. She had been delighted that he was so interested in the workings of her beloved engines, but in truth he was reconnoitering. Sure, he’d picked up some of the basic principles of how this whole contraption worked; she was, after all, rather brilliant, and her explanations were clear and crisp with precision. But he had tried to pick up other information, behavioral in nature, about what Nautica usually needed to work on, where she seemed to linger, how she navigated the space.

Now was the test, he’d decided. He entered the engine room where she normally did, and just waited, observing the sounds, the sights, even the smells. His brain module took in all the sensory data and, after a moment, nudged him in a particular direction. He liked to go on instinct like this sometimes, following his unconscious reasoning, but he’d always process it later to divine where the hints had come from, how the instinct had really been formed. Only by analysis could be improve, stay sharp.

All this cogitation helped him to not notice a cable on the floor, which he tripped over. He hit the deck with a clang, but swiftly scrambled back up and listened again. Did she hear him? Did that cause a change in the environment he hadn’t anticipated? After another moment, he determined that his spill had no effect, and he continued on, more carefully this time. No need for embarrassment on a mission like this.

She was close now, somewhere nearby. It had something to do with the sound, there was a tone that shouldn’t be there, sharp, dissonant, and that was usually because of … that big box thing right there. He crept up to it, staring at it, as if it could throw off a clue that it indeed was the right hiding place. He looked around it to one side, and then the other. No Nautica. Could she be somewhere else? That wouldn’t make sense. This must be the place.

Oh, right. Underneath.

Nightbeat dropped down to the floor, and sure enough, he spotted the top of Nautica’s helm. She was lying supine on a wheeled creeper, fiddling with arcane machinery inside the box. The wrench Brainstorm fashioned for her lay next to her.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Nightbeat announced, trying to sound modest but failing miserably. Inside he was feeling quite pleased.

“What?” Nautica rolled her head from side to side, and then craned it up to finally see who was speaking. “Oh! Well, of course I’m here! I’m working!” Her voice was light and cheery as always.

“No, I mean you are _here_. Under _this_.” He points to the box with a hand that Nautica can’t see. “I found you.”

“So you did! Um … good job?” Nautica rolled herself out from underneath, wrench in hand. “Do you want a prize?”

The query surprisingly flummoxed Nightbeat, as ideas of a nice prize flitted through his mind. “Well, um, successfully finding you is a prize in and of itself.”

“So am I the prize?” She smirked.

Wow, back-to-back flummoxing. “You are … you were my goal, of course. I don’t need a prize.”

Nautica pouted. “Am I not a worthy prize, then?”

Triple flummox. “No! I mean, yes, you are! But!” Nightbeat’s optics widened in exasperation.

Nautica’s face switched to a bright smile. “I’m just messing with you.” She glided the rest of the way out, smoothly rolling off the creeper into a cross-legged sit, brushing off the dust. “But really, why come looking for me in here? Is it, like, a game?” She didn’t sound insulted at all, just curious.

“Of course not! It’s serious business!” Nightbeat flipped himself over into his own matching seated position. “I need to hone my skills constantly to stay on top of my game. Finding you here is quite a challenge. I mean, look at this place.” He waved his arms around.

“I suppose.” Nautica looked around skeptically, as if the jumble of equipment in the room were actually all in perfectly sensible order. “So tell me, how did you know I was here?” Her optics glinted with interest.

“Well,” Nightbeat replied with no small amount of pride, “I heard something. I think. It was a sound out of place, and I deduced that it was because of this piece of equipment right here. Since the sound was incorrect, and I knew you were on duty, naturally, I determined you were here.”

Nautica’s brow ridges lifted as she nodded. “I’m impressed, Nightbeat! You heard feedback interference in the tertiary synchronization coupling for the starboard energizer. It was out of phase by 6 degrees, enough to, well, hear. Now, tell me, do you still hear it?”

Nightbeat listened, but more than that, he sensed. Was the urge still there? He couldn’t hear it, but moreover, there wasn’t anything out of place anymore. “No.”

“That’s because I fixed it.” Nautica made a clicking noise with her mouth, and then hopped up, setting a hand upon one hip. “I guess all those tours I gave you paid off.”

Nightbeat likewise got to his feet. “They did indeed.” He felt like he should say more, but no words came. He just stood and looked at Nautica, dust and all, in her element, happy. The corners of his mouth tugged up. He couldn’t help it.

It was quiet for a moment, except for the humming of the engines. Nautica’s smile grew bit by bit as well over the pause, until finally she spoke up. “Well, I have an idea for a prize for you. And a game to play. Follow me.” She beckoned with a finger and then turned and walked down a narrow path between more equipment.

Nightbeat followed obediently. After a few twists and turns, they came to a dead end corner of the room, obscured by massive, looming ducts and fencing. The ambient noise was oddly muffled here, the lighting dimmer.

Nautica spun around, peering keenly at her follower. “Notice anything odd here?”

Nightbeat pursed his lips, and then sensed again. Darker, quieter, but this was not an area he’d visited before, so he had no prior basis for comparison. It seemed like an ordinary random nook. “I don’t,” he said slowly, “but I suspect I’m wrong.” Of course, there’s going to be something odd, but he just couldn’t place it. Slightly embarrassing, this.

Nautica beamed. “Well, I guess I still have some tricks up my sleeve.” She rapped a knuckle against a nearby wall, and a hidden door slid open, throwing a warm light into the dank corner. “Don’t worry, that wasn’t the game.” She ducked slightly through the door. Nightbeat shook his head, and followed suit.

Beyond the door was a small chamber. Unlike the engine room, it was decorated and appeared quite comfortable. Strings of colored lights hanging from the ceiling were the only illumination besides the small viewscreen on one wall. A jumble of shelving units here and there held datapads of different sizes, all neatly lined up. A small table on one side held a simulacrum of a flame, gently flickering. Nautica moved over to a couch on the far side of the chamber, and patted the space next to her for Nightbeat to have a seat.

Nightbeat couldn’t help but grin. “Wow.” He’d have asked if she put this all together herself, but of course she did. He plopped himself down on the couch. “What’s this all for, then?”

“This is my escape pod.” Nautica giggled. “Well, not really, right, since it doesn’t go anywhere, but … when I need a break, or some quiet time, to think, or relax, or remember, I come here.” She lifted a finger of warning. “Now don’t go telling anyone about this, it’s our secret!” One would think she’d studied Kup’s facial expressions, seeing her scowl.

Nightbeat raised a hand, palm out. “Autobot’s honor.” He still couldn’t figure out how he hadn’t detected this place. She was good.

Nautica’s face melted back into her usual chipper look. “OK, well, I promised you a game, so let’s play. It’s an engineering game called the Five Whys. Have you heard of it?”

“I don’t think so.” The question of why was always of primary interest to Nightbeat, though, so he was interested.

“It’s how we techies figure out the cause of a problem. We ask ourselves why the problem happened, and figure out the answer. Then we ask ourselves why that answer happened, and get the next answer. We ask five times why, and the last answer is, well, hopefully, something that you can fix so that the problem never happens again.”

“That sounds pretty sensible.” Nightbeat could easily relate this sort of process to deductive reasoning. Rudimentary in comparison, perhaps. He hoped he didn’t come off unimpressed.

“Great! So, I’m going to ask the whys, and you’re going to give the answers. Maybe it’ll only take five whys, maybe more, maybe even less, but you’ll win when you get to the final answer.” She settled herself into the couch a little more. “Ready?”

“Um, I think so. But, so, what’s the theme? The problem we’re solving?”

“It’s not a problem, really, more of a … a mystery. OK, here’s the first why: Why did you come looking for me?”

Nightbeat’s spark jumped. “Oh! I’m sorry! Did that upset you? It was really just an exercise for my reasoning skills!” His hands were up in surrender, as if to forestall a Nautica attack. Brainstorm made that wrench, after all, who knows what it’s capable of.

Nautica didn’t let up, but kept smiling as she continued the interrogation. “Answer: To exercise your skills. Second why: Why was finding _me_ your choice of exercise?”

A direct line of questioning. Sure, that’s … efficient. “Well, it was because - _because_ -” Nightbeat paused to regain his composure and to give a proper, reasoned response. “It would be a challenge, because the engine room is difficult to navigate and there are many places you could be.”

“Irrelevant!” Nautica’s shout rang out brightly, while Nightbeat flinched. She was enjoying making her guest squirm. “Other bots work in the engine room, you could have hunted for them. Why me specifically?”

“Is that the third why, or are we still on the second one?”

“Answer the question!”

“Primus, OK!” Despite the rising intensity of this “game”, Nightbeat could tell from her mischievous look that Nautica was having fun, so he mustered a smile of his own and began: “_Because_ -”

And so it was that Nightbeat learned that sometimes it only takes two-and-a-half whys to get to the heart of the matter.

An answer stuck in his throat. Several answers, it seemed, were jammed up in there. His mouth hung open, and Nautica’s optics narrowed as she grinned, and waited. Finally, one answer worked its way loose. “Because you are a motivating … quarry.”

Nautica’s voice was suddenly softer. “Answer: Because I am a motivating … quarry. Third why: Why do you find me … motivating?” She leaned in a bit more, teeth peeking out from her smile.

“Oh, all right, we’re on the third why, then. Ahem.” Nightbeat wondered if Nautica had linked herself to the climate control, because it was getting warmer in here. Or maybe it was the heat from Nautica’s frame as she was moving closer to him on the couch. “_Because_ … you are a … fascinating individual.”

“Answer: Fascinating. Fourth why: Why do you want to find yourself near a … _fascinating_ individual?” She propped up her leaning torso on her arms, twisting her shoulders ever so slightly from side to side. Wiggling, as a predator might from the underbrush, eyeing up its prey. He hadn’t realized it until now, but the hunter had become the hunted. He chastised himself for not seeing this coming.

“_Because_ …” She had him, cornered on this deceptively innocent couch in her deceptively comfortable escape pod, with nowhere for him, ironically, to escape. Except, of course, to answer, but he felt like he couldn’t utter the truth out loud. Was he ready? Was she? How could he say it? Would he use the right words? Would she take it the wrong way? Would she, maybe, not feel the same?

Nautica was closing in, literally. Her optics gleamed in the dim light, analyzing him, sizing him up. “Because,” she whispered, and her face was close to his now.

“Because,” he repeated. His hands, useless for defense now, gently moved around her sides, to the small of her back, as if on their own. Was he pulling her closer? Or was it her?

“Because. Good answer.” Nautica surged forward and her lips met his, her optics closing as they kissed. Nightbeat was stunned for a moment, his optics wide from her pounce, but they too eventually defocused, and dimmed, as the kiss lingered, and he pulled her in, for sure this time. His spark spun in its chamber, waves of warmth washing up and down. He thought he could feel hers, too.

It was some time before Nautica finally drew back. She gazed at him, lips still parted, optics soft as the lights above. The light from the flame played across her cheek.

Nightbeat lay where he was, against one end of the couch. Defeated, and yet perhaps not. “Who won?” he asked, quietly.

The mischievous smile returned to Nautica’s face. “What do you think?”

Despite himself, Nightbeat returned to his sensing, his deducing. He took in the lights above, and the muted sounds from the room outside, and the dancing of the flame, and the softness of the couch, and the object of his desire right there, in front of him, glowing. Finally, the flash of insight came, and he understood why Nautica had played the game with him. She knew, she’s known, and she drew him out with it, to help him follow the one line of inquiry he was avoiding, avoiding for no good reason at all.

“You’re good.” He rose up and embraced her again, as her arms draped over his shoulders. They kissed once more, and he felt hums of laughter through her lips.