#silas: i want to be your friend first bodyguard second. btw

[doomdays]

maybe it’s because ronan is spoken of the way he is that silas already feels connected to him, in some way.  everyone seems to have bad stories about the way he’s behaved or the way he’s made jobs difficult for others,  but silas has been that guy before,  he’s been the person whose reputation follows him around like a dark cloud,  acting as a shield for everyone else to hide from.  people assumed the worst of him, and he never got the chance to just be who he really was  (  not until he met elton, iris—the rest of his friends.  )  maybe what people say about ronan is true, but silas isn’t going to take their word for it.  he was assigned this job; therefore, he’s going into it ready to figure out who ronan is as he presents himself to silas, not to those before him.  

and if he is as bad as he says—— maybe he has good reason.  silas did.

he knows enough to understand that ronan doesn’t entirely believe him.  silas can’t blame him for that,  but he’s still adamant about doing this job well,  and he’s adamant about proving that to be true.  this is so much easier than manning the streets of the zone with a gun in his hand; looking to one person to protect,  that doesn’t feel so overwhelming, and in some ways, it feels like silas has been granted some of his identity back.  deep down, he knows that’s not necessarily true;  he is still just another FEDRA puppet, their weapon, but there are less eyes on him when he’s focused one person, and that makes him feel a little less stuck.  ❝  i am,  ❞  he insists,  taking a deep breath yet careful to not make it so noticeable;  he’s nervous, and anyone looking at the way his jaw lightly trembles or his hands shake can see that, but he is doing his best — and he won’t let ronan scare him away. 

his brows furrow, sweat forms at his hairline,  and he tries to figure out ronan’s angle.  he doesn’t agree with a lot of this system;  he’s here in honor of dennis, for his own survival, and that’s it.  along the way,  he’s committing every small piece of the puzzle to memory, trying to figure out the truths that FEDRA doesn’t tell their soldiers or their people.  ❝  he was wrong.  for trying to kill you, ❞   he answers first.  that’s not what ronan is asking, but he needs to say it anyway.  with another deep breath, he shakes his head.  ❝  —- why?  why was his girlfriend being executed? ❞  he needs more context.  maybe some soldiers would be quick to answer,  but silas believes there’s right and wrong — and that used to be so skewed to him, but the more he learns about how this place operates, the clearer it is.  ❝  i don’t think having to die for your crimes is ever right—- not .  .  .  not as simple as that.  people do things for a reason.  if they’re doing it to protect themselves or protect someone else— that’s important.  killing you wasn’t for their protection.  it was for revenge,  ❞   he points out, shaking his head.  ❝  and that’s not right.  ❞   but why did his mother approve the girlfriend’s execution?    

❝  i meant it when i said i am ready and i am honored for this job, ❞   he insists again.  ❝  whatever trouble you’re up against,  i’m ready to handle it.  ❞  maybe it is too big for him, especially as he’s still so new,  but he’s not giving up on ronan.  felix, dennis— they didn’t give up on him.

i’m not like them — that’s becoming increasingly clear. he’d expected more despair, perhaps an edge of contempt — but silas doesn’t seem to possess either, and ronan meets this unexpected turn with a growing interest. even those soldiers who are fresh-faced and new, eyes wide with some innate sense of pride a uniform can infect you with, seem able to conjure enough venom for ronan and the rest in his caste, vultures feasting greedily on the remnants of society they desperately cling to — a system he knows he benefits from, regardless of the secret he carries; he makes no attempt to fool himself into believing otherwise. but silas seems genuine enough in his proclamation, and ronan can’t seem to parse it — why?

he meets every soldier as an adversary; if they knew the truth, they’d shoot him or turn him in, eager to reap the reward for exposing a rat. he doesn’t believe silas is any different in that respect, despite the puzzling way this introduction has slanted, a direction ronan is uncertain of, a path he hadn’t expected to travel. but maybe there’s opportunity in this. it takes root in ronan’s mind, an undeveloped photograph, for the time being — but there’s some room to probe further immediately. to test him.

“well, i appreciate that.” it’s a commendable sentiment, but he is a prisoner, regardless of how much of a say silas believes he can have on the matter. three of the walls are of his own making; borders defined on his terms, ronan inserting himself just enough into FEDRA’s business, his mother’s, to glean information, but the fourth wall is beyond anyone’s control: it’s the goddamn border of this zone.

(one day, he wants to break free of it — but not until the job is finished.)

“—yeah. that’s what you’re here for.” would he turn on a fellow soldier? the question is one he considers for every new protector his mother assigns. if the worst happened, if he was exposed, would the person intended to defend him do so from FEDRA? it’s hardly a life of luxury they live — but it’s a life. a bed, food, safety within the walls of a zone, all guaranteed so long as they fall in line.

would silas give that up?

he nearly snorts at that — deeming this detail an honor. he doesn’t believe silas, but appreciates the effort; it’s a new approach. rarely do soldiers speak to him like he deserves protection; his predecessors seemed almost disappointed when the day ended and there hadn’t been another attempt on his life.

his hand lifts to his scar again, and, without offering much in way of a response to silas, almost as if he hadn’t heard (but every word is memorized, and ronan can’t help but almost reply, you don’t wanna be friends with me, if you wanna stay alive), he asks instead, “you know what happened to me?” however, he offers no time for silas to answer. “some guy settled for trying to kill me because he couldn’t get to my mom. because my mom approved his girlfriend’s execution. that’s the kind of trouble you might have to deal with.” he drops his hand, shoving it beneath his leg to force himself to stop touching his neck. “you think he was wrong? to be upset with my mother, not about killing me.”