Mr. Stevenson believes in the stars and (stripes) wrote in repose,
Re: log: grant/matt, the woods
"Owen? Is that you?" A quick series of emotions flickered over the captain's face when the other man did not respond in any way. The captain had a serious and yet transparent face, with much of his youth still attached. The emotions went by like moving slides in a projector. Click click click click. Joy, uncertainty, doubt, determination. Then joy again. He was sure.
"It's you." Grant didn't think of an oil platform at all, because he hadn't seen anyone else on it. It had been another mission, and there were a long series of those. Grant took long step forward, and he wasn't breaking his gaze on the other man's face to look down. A dead branch cracked under his considerable weight. Sometimes he still forgot how big he was.
"Back... where? I don't know what you're talking about." Grant's face twisted into hopeful vulnerable. He was always quick to hope. "It is you, isn't it?" He had difficulty taking another breath. "I thought you were dead."