"Oh no, I definitely ate shit a lot," he laughs, shaking his head and sipping at his drink. "I ate shit all the time. But never with a person on my back."
Sam nods thoughtfully, "I met a few who were excited to be connected to the network. To see outside their own homes, they said. But they still never left."
Higgs finishes off his own drink, pulling a face, but setting the empty can down on the floor all the same. "Probably a lot safer that way. People aren't replaceable."
As for the network... it's a good point, really. "Even folks terrified of the outside world seek out connections. It's a pretty big inconsistency, if you think about it."
He sighs, rubbing at his temples. "It must have been easier, before the Stranding."
"It's weird, being a porter. You make all these connections with people without ever actually meeting them." At least he knows that despite helping Amelie with her plan, ultimately, setting up the chiral network was a good thing. He'd seen it in action, with the doctor and the mountaineer.
He doesn't say anything right away yet again. Like he's figuring out what to even say to that. He hasn't been that man who wanted to bring people together for a very long time now.
Even without the Extinction Entity in his head, he doesn't want to be that person again. "You get that a lot. Everyone uses those damn holograms instead."
"Useful if you don't want to be seen, I guess," he points out. Higgs never had to come to the door to grab his packages. He could just wait for them to be delivered and leave a review.
"Well, when you leave it on the default, sure. But in my experience people rely on them heavily. It's almost I know Bridges has access to color ones, even. So you're not stuck talking to someone in black and white." He's not going to argue he'd never greeted Sam with the shelter's hologram, though.
That would have been completely stupid for a number of reasons. It's not his fault that Bridges is staffed by idiots who didn't think anything of the outlandish orders for pizza the strange "Peter Englert" always asked for.
Higgs hadn't even bothered to pretend it wasn't him, for God's sake. "These days folks are so determined to be alone, it takes a long damn time for them to even be interested in reaching out."
"I've seen it go both ways. People who are so determined to be alone, and people who are desperate for the contact."
A lot of times, he's noticed, the people who seem most hellbent on being alone crave contact the most. As he's gotten older, he's found that being totally alone isn't all it's cracked up to be. He thinks -- in fact he's fairly certain -- the same might go for Higgs.
"Maybe," Higgs says. He's not willing to think Sam is referring to him, not really. Better to still think of Higgs as the villain Amelie willed him to be. He blinks around the mostly empty room.
...It really can't barely be considered a home. Doesn't even have a bed. "I would see it out West. Guess it was easier for me to understand where they were comin' from, growing up there 'n all." It had been much easier for them to trust him than it would have been if he'd been a complete outsider. "But a lot of those folks weren't interested in solidarity so much as they just didn't want anything to do with the UCA."
Higgs doesn't respond to that. He's not really sure what he believes anymore. He'd believed people were worth helping, until Amelie had shown him the futility of his actions. "I got used to it."
...That's definitely revealing too much, but he's just so tired.
Higgs snorts darkly. "Just me and my thoughts. I never really noticed where they were headed. Not until it was too late to turn back."
It had been a "perk" of being the Herald. It's hard to let a little thing like wanting to die stop you from showing off how fruitless and pointless continuing to live is.
Of course, that had all been Amelie's doing. Except for the self-loathing; that had all been Higgs.
He suddenly, desperately, wishes he'd known Higgs before Amelie had gotten to him. Had known the man in the journal who had just wanted to bring people together. Before Higgs had given up on everything.
It breaks his heart, that Amelie had turned him into this. But maybe it had always been too late, and Higgs was headed down that path anyway. Maybe there was nothing Sam could have done.
You didn't save shit.
"It's hard. To be alone with your thoughts," he finally says. "Any sort of nasty thing can creep in there."
The fact that he's able to have a conversation with someone about this at all is kind of baffling. He wouldn't have been able to do it before. He's not sure he's ever wanted to be close enough to anyone.
Sam's just special like that. A 'bridge'. "Bein' a porter's about the worst job possible for someone who shouldn't be alone with his thoughts."
"Sure did," Higgs admits easily. "Especially when I was a kid doin' it. There's a lot of scary shit out in the world, better to keep your mind off of things."
He knows Sam is aware of that part of his past, but maybe not just how young Higgs was. Higgs isn't entirely sure himself, truthfully.
"I'd whistle a lot, to keep occupied. Or tell myself I was doing a good job." He winces, because that sounds pathetic when he says it out loud.
"Sometimes, if I remembered to get it out of my locker, I'd play the harmonica when I set up camp somewhere." The same song, every time. Always his dad's lullaby.
"Think I saw that a couple of times," Higgs admits sheepishly. "You always played a pretty song on it."
Sam's other statement doesn't even cross his mind as particularly off. Largely because Higgs had been doing just the same. "They never had many safe places to hide where I'm from. If I needed to sleep, it was usually in some cave or some pre-Stranding rubble."
"Weren't any timefall shelters out West. I think that was a perk reserved for people kissing the UCA's ass." Not that he's bitter about that. A timefall shelter would have been wonderful, though too exposed for him to sleep.
"You play it for her?" he asks, motioning towards Lou.
"Yeah, I didn't get any of that until I started working for Bridges," he agrees, not blaming Higgs at all for being bitter. Bridges could have built a hundred more of those shelters for people out in the West, but they didn't.
Sam nods, watching Lou suck her thumb in her sleep. "Yeah, I'd play it for her. Or whistle it, hum it. Usually calmed her down pretty well."
Sam's fondness for Lou gets Higgs to smile. It's genuine, too natural to be something forced or awkward. "Makes sense. Bridges called 'em tools, but at the end of the day, they are babies."
"I always hated that. It's just a piece of equipment, don't get attached. They took her away from me for a while, to uh. Reset her, I guess. Because we were becoming bonded.
Back in his own mind, it sounds absolutely ghastly. Who the fuck would do something like that? "...That or somebody neglected to do his or her job. Your choice if it was intentional or incompetence."
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Sam nods thoughtfully, "I met a few who were excited to be connected to the network. To see outside their own homes, they said. But they still never left."
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As for the network... it's a good point, really. "Even folks terrified of the outside world seek out connections. It's a pretty big inconsistency, if you think about it."
He sighs, rubbing at his temples. "It must have been easier, before the Stranding."
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Maybe it is connecting people. Helping people.
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Even without the Extinction Entity in his head, he doesn't want to be that person again. "You get that a lot. Everyone uses those damn holograms instead."
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That would have been completely stupid for a number of reasons. It's not his fault that Bridges is staffed by idiots who didn't think anything of the outlandish orders for pizza the strange "Peter Englert" always asked for.
Higgs hadn't even bothered to pretend it wasn't him, for God's sake. "These days folks are so determined to be alone, it takes a long damn time for them to even be interested in reaching out."
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A lot of times, he's noticed, the people who seem most hellbent on being alone crave contact the most. As he's gotten older, he's found that being totally alone isn't all it's cracked up to be. He thinks -- in fact he's fairly certain -- the same might go for Higgs.
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...It really can't barely be considered a home. Doesn't even have a bed. "I would see it out West. Guess it was easier for me to understand where they were comin' from, growing up there 'n all." It had been much easier for them to trust him than it would have been if he'd been a complete outsider. "But a lot of those folks weren't interested in solidarity so much as they just didn't want anything to do with the UCA."
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He thought that was him, for a long, long time. But then he started on Amelie's little mission and the more people he met, the more he wanted to meet.
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...That's definitely revealing too much, but he's just so tired.
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"It was fine. For a long time." Until it wasn't.
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It had been a "perk" of being the Herald. It's hard to let a little thing like wanting to die stop you from showing off how fruitless and pointless continuing to live is.
Of course, that had all been Amelie's doing. Except for the self-loathing; that had all been Higgs.
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It breaks his heart, that Amelie had turned him into this. But maybe it had always been too late, and Higgs was headed down that path anyway. Maybe there was nothing Sam could have done.
You didn't save shit.
"It's hard. To be alone with your thoughts," he finally says. "Any sort of nasty thing can creep in there."
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The fact that he's able to have a conversation with someone about this at all is kind of baffling. He wouldn't have been able to do it before. He's not sure he's ever wanted to be close enough to anyone.
Sam's just special like that. A 'bridge'. "Bein' a porter's about the worst job possible for someone who shouldn't be alone with his thoughts."
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"You ever talk to yourself, when you were on deliveries? I know you know I do."
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He knows Sam is aware of that part of his past, but maybe not just how young Higgs was. Higgs isn't entirely sure himself, truthfully.
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"Sometimes, if I remembered to get it out of my locker, I'd play the harmonica when I set up camp somewhere." The same song, every time. Always his dad's lullaby.
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Sam's other statement doesn't even cross his mind as particularly off. Largely because Higgs had been doing just the same. "They never had many safe places to hide where I'm from. If I needed to sleep, it was usually in some cave or some pre-Stranding rubble."
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He smiles, that odd half smile, at Higgs saying his song is pretty. "It's the same song I always whistled. It's uh. It's a lullaby."
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"You play it for her?" he asks, motioning towards Lou.
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Sam nods, watching Lou suck her thumb in her sleep. "Yeah, I'd play it for her. Or whistle it, hum it. Usually calmed her down pretty well."
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Didn't work that well, obviously."
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Back in his own mind, it sounds absolutely ghastly. Who the fuck would do something like that? "...That or somebody neglected to do his or her job. Your choice if it was intentional or incompetence."
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Lou yawns a little and shifts in her sleep, and the world goes rosy soft like it always does when Sam's full attention is on his daughter.
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