[ His answer is like a punch to the gut. She closes her eyes for a moment, fighting back the wave of emotion while keeping her breathing steady. So long as she keeps her cool, she can face anything. The time for breaking down and letting that pain loose will come later, when no one is around to see her fall apart. For now, Foggy Nelson doesn't deserve to be burdened with her grief on top of his own. ]
Thanks. [ It's soft, hardly more than a breath itself as she pulls her cell phone from her jacket pocket. Typing with the speed of a true millennial, she taps out a message to the director, a man who had once been her partner and is still like a big brother to her. He'll request an explanation later, but for now, if she asks, he'll do whatever he can to make it happen.
we need to take over recovery at midland circle
Setting the phone down face-up on the table, she hopes it won't take long for Mack to answer. He is the director of the world's leading spy agency, even if they do keep having their forces decimated by one alien attack after another, but given their history—
Her phone buzzes, and the reply pops up. I'll make the arrangements. ]
Okay. [ She's talking to herself mostly, nodding in self-confirmation that she's going to be able to do something for one of her oldest friends. Looking back up at Foggy, she picks up her drink again, ready to finish off the rest of it. ]
SHIELD will start looking tomorrow. We'll find him if he's down there.
[ He's used to people getting onto their phones, making notes, and so forth, but there's something incredibly sobering and stressful about Daisy tacking away at the screen. Probably because he knows that it's not just some response to a text, or note being made.
She gives him the news and Foggy reaches up to rub at his face tiredly. He wants to protest because what's the use? There's no flare of hope that they might discover Matt living like a rat in some dark space, and at this point if there's a body to bury Foggy isn't sure he wants to see it.
But what can he do? Matt wasn't only his friend. People react as they need to and who is he to squash any potential hope, even in just closing a chapter that may otherwise be unfinished. ]
Okay.
[ He should be grateful and enthusiastic, but he's just... wrecked. Numb. Tired. Slightly drunk but not nearly enough and not close to drunkest he's been. Might as well go all-out, right? The glass is lifted and he gestures for service. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Thanks. [ It's soft, hardly more than a breath itself as she pulls her cell phone from her jacket pocket. Typing with the speed of a true millennial, she taps out a message to the director, a man who had once been her partner and is still like a big brother to her. He'll request an explanation later, but for now, if she asks, he'll do whatever he can to make it happen.
we need to take over recovery at midland circle
Setting the phone down face-up on the table, she hopes it won't take long for Mack to answer. He is the director of the world's leading spy agency, even if they do keep having their forces decimated by one alien attack after another, but given their history—
Her phone buzzes, and the reply pops up. I'll make the arrangements. ]
Okay. [ She's talking to herself mostly, nodding in self-confirmation that she's going to be able to do something for one of her oldest friends. Looking back up at Foggy, she picks up her drink again, ready to finish off the rest of it. ]
SHIELD will start looking tomorrow. We'll find him if he's down there.
no subject
She gives him the news and Foggy reaches up to rub at his face tiredly. He wants to protest because what's the use? There's no flare of hope that they might discover Matt living like a rat in some dark space, and at this point if there's a body to bury Foggy isn't sure he wants to see it.
But what can he do? Matt wasn't only his friend. People react as they need to and who is he to squash any potential hope, even in just closing a chapter that may otherwise be unfinished. ]
Okay.
[ He should be grateful and enthusiastic, but he's just... wrecked. Numb. Tired. Slightly drunk but not nearly enough and not close to drunkest he's been. Might as well go all-out, right? The glass is lifted and he gestures for service. ]
Another? Two-at-a-time's the limit.