Finding His Purpose Who: Chase and Sam Where: A random unnamed bar When: Backdated to January, during the truth plot What: Lending an ear Rating: Mild
While Chase had been known to be rash and impulsive in his youth it was through his years on Galador that he'd mellowed out considerably. He'd become much more brooding and considerate of others. At first he'd taken work as the ships mechanic on board Serenity but over time he came to the thought that he wasn't doing much to help the growing community and as such decided to join the Galadorian military. After a few trials he became a low-level mechanic and pilot and while the military wasn't as strict as it was back home he found himself with little to do outside of training. It didn't help that Galador hadn't really been threatened since he signed up. He found himself floundering for things to do in his free time. Even when trying to feel helpful he didn't feel helpful at all.
So... what did he decide to do? Glad you asked. He decided to find a bar to drink away his sorrows. It didn't help any that Ikon and Gert were nowhere to be seen anymore. It felt like a few of his tethers to this world were severed. He knew that Mal would take him back with no questions asked, but he'd been trying to create a new start. He didn't want to go back, tail between his legs. He wanted to create a life with a sense of meaning here. It just wasn't working out so well. And so? He drank.
Chase wasn't the only one out for a drink that night, although their purposes were very different. Samantha had come out as well, looking to unwind a bit. After everyone had been moved down to Galador and started settling in different places provided, Sam had actually set up a new VA center. Not only were there plenty of transplants here that had military experience that hadn't worked out well for them (an understatement), but Galador had its own military. Helping soldiers readjust to life was her bread and butter, and Sam was happy to do it here.
When she sat down at the bar, she couldn't help but notice Chase, looking like a sad puppy with his beer. "Someone's not drinking for the fun of it," she commented as she took a sip of her own beer.
"Not even close," Chase replied. It was a thought that he would have kept to himself ordinarily. He didn't know why the thought escaped his lips, but decided not to think about it. Instead, he looked over at his new bar buddy and his eyebrows shot up. He knew who Sam was, even though they'd never spoken previously. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I don't mean to be a pain in the ass." Again with the honesty. "What about you? Why are you here?"
Sam just chuckled, not even realizing that Chase was confused at him sudden honesty. If anything, she just assumed that alcohol may have loosened his lips a bit. "Unwinding after a long day. Nothing wrong with admitting that something's bothering you, though. Need to talk about it?"
"Would you mind?" Chase asked with an adorable huff. He'd been bottling things up for so long he could stand for someone to talk to! He didn't want to be a pain in the ass, but he'd already said that, so: "I'm Chase, by the way. I don't need to ask who you are, though. You're kind of amazing."
"It's nice to meet you Chase," she said, offering him her hand. "And I'm nothing amazing. I'm just someone doing a job that they kind of stumbled into." True, but not usually how she put it. It was true, though: she'd sought out help and then wanted to help others. "What's on your mind?"
Chase stood and shook Sam's hand, considering it a true honor. "Well, it's still an honor," he replied, meeting her eyes to convey his meaning before returning to his seat. "Do you consider your job rewarding?" He didn't know why he asked that. Maybe because he was considering his own lot in life. "I'm not happy," he said, simply. "I have purpose, but I don't. There's no need for a person like me here. Not really."
"I do. It's something needed that helps people. I know what it's like to feel like I need to talk to someone but I'm afraid of what everyone will think of me if I admit to needing help." She frowned a bit when he admitted the next part. "There's a need for everyone here, Chase. Sometimes it just takes a bit to figure out what works for you. Other than the military, what have you tried?"
Chase blinked. He'd kept his own feelings bottled up for so long that it was nice to hear someone share the same sentiment. "I worked on a cargo ship for a while, but more'n'more people came and I felt... less important." He made a face. "I'm not even sure that I'm explaining it right." He decided to blame it on the alcohol, despite the fact that he hadn't had much. "I just know that when it felt like I was finally making a connection to a few people... they went away." He bowed his head. "How do you handle people leaving you?"
"Chase, being here is all about finding your nitch. Whether it's working with cargo, being in the military, or something else entirely, everyone has something they can contribute. Not everybody finds it right away, though. Some people have to try a few things first, and there's nothing wrong with that." Sam took a deep breath before answering the next part. She had to pull from her life back home for an answer. "You got to remember that they wouldn't want you sad and basically mourning. You have to remember the good times. It's hard as hell and doesn't always work, but it's what I try to do."
"I've been here a lot longer than most, ma'am," Chase replied, which was his way of arguing that he should have found his place by now. Still, maybe she had a point. Maybe he should try a few more things before giving up. Sure, Ikon was gone. So was Gert and OL. But he still had his fistigons and footsigons. Maybe it was time to dust those off; try to get back to who he was. "I feel like I've been mourning for a long time," he admitted. Seeing Gert again as she was before she died almost broke him. He finished his beer and asked the bartender for another one.
Chase chewed on his bottom lip. "I've had more bad times than good in my life. My father beat me, my parents were super villains, my... my friend betrayed me. And my girlfriend died. In my arms. Twice." He sniffled, feeling like a jackass for laying everything out like this, but also... like he couldn't stop himself. He accepted his fresh beer and took a long swig. "How do you find the good in all that?" He wiped under his eyes, trying to refuse his tears. He looked away briefly, trying to compose himself, and then met her eyes again. "What good memories do you look for when you're in your darkest moments?" He'd been so concerned with his own feelings that he'd almost forgotten to consider Sam's. "Promise it stays between us," he added with a hint of a charming smile of his former self.
"And? Some people take longer than others to figure themselves out. There's nothing wrong with that." There was nothing wrong with your first job working out, either. Sam had thought that she'd be in the Air Force until she retired, but then she lost Riley and she couldn't stay anymore. "I know the feeling, but you can't grieve forever. They wouldn't want it, just like my partner wouldn't have wanted it. Took me a while to learn it, though." She blinked. She hadn't meant to say that, but there it was.
"I will admit that life handed you a shit sandwich," she said bluntly. Damn, his life could be a soap opera! "You remember the good parts about the good people in your life. There had to be good times with your girlfriend before you lost her." She smiled a little, looking down at her drink. "I think about Riley a lot, telling me that there's no point in dwelling. His dumb ass would just say that moping's for people who ain't got shit to do." She rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Riley did not have good bedside manner. He was my partner when I did pararescue in the Air Force."
Chase nodded as he listened to Sam. He'd asked for her advice and would be damned if he didn't listen to it. She made a good point about focusing on the good times rather than the bad. It felt like he and Gert didn't have much of a chance for the good times, but what they had while they had it was perfect. What they say about never forgetting your first love was true in Chase's case. He'd always carry her with him.
He chuckled. "Riley sounds like my kind of people." He turned his glass around in his hands thoughtfully. "I gather he died... doing what he did best?" He tried to be tactful in asking.
She nodded. "Yeah, during what should have been a routine mission, an RPG knocked him out of the sky, and all I could do was hang there and watch." She did her best not to dwell on what she could have done if she'd had the chance, but sometimes it got to her, too, just like it would with anyone else. "Helping others now makes it hurt a little less, though."
Chase stopped handling his beer and gave Sam his full attention. While it felt like the world was closing in around him it was important to realize that he wasn't the only one who was in pain. "You know... sometimes it hurts so much that I forget that other people are hurting too." He made a face. He wished that he could be more eloquent. "Would you mind if we talked again sometime? Maybe before I've had a few of these," he indicated his beer, "in me?"
"Trust me. Pain is something that can swallow you whole if you're not careful. It's easy to forget what's going on around you." Sam certainly had plenty of experience with that. "Sure. You know where to find me. Come by anytime."