He fell silent after her question, and several moments passed while he gathered his thoughts. To her, it seemed as though he had shut down completely. She felt as though she had dampened the mood, and she had. She knew that asking about his father, or anything personal for that matter, would likely cause him to retreat inside himself. So, rather than press him further, she turned to look out of the window. “Sorry,” she muttered, allowing him the peace he likely desired. During the long stretch of silence that hung between them like an invisible partition, she turned toward the window as she usually did. She admired the sky, how it was lit with warm amber light as the sun faded. Clouds rolled by, occasionally engulfing them in a sheer haze as they cut through. Despite the droning of the engine, it was quite peaceful, but she perked up a bit when she heard the commander sigh. She looked over at him as he began to address her question, much to her own surprise. She hadn’t expected him to, but since he was being open and candid she listened for as long as he wished to speak.<br/><br/>It was disheartening to hear that he had never been truly able to do as he pleased. From what she gathered, he spent much of his life chasing perfection and attempting to live up to impossible standards. To some degree, she knew what that felt like. Her parents pushed her hard academically, and imposed their high expectations on her, but her parents were encouraging and supportive. They never made her feel as though her best wasn’t good enough, and even though she didn’t follow the path they would have liked they could still be proud of her success when she achieved it. As she suspected, the tragedy played a part in the deterioration of his character and when he spoke of his mother she could see him hurt, feel the anger that radiated off of him. She wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to continue, but he went on until his story concluded. By then, they had landed, and the commander wasted little time unbuckling himself and heading to the exit.<br/><br/>Ava unbuckled herself and collected her bags, consolidating by tucking the smaller ones into the larger ones so that there was less to carry. Of course there was more weight, but nothing she couldn’t handle and she’d be damned if she let the men and women bustling about the basement see her struggle. She followed the commander to the elevator, bags lining her arms and hanging on her shoulders. When the doors slid closed and they had some privacy, she looked up at him, setting some of the heavier bags down at her feet. “Nick, I’m sorry for prying. I didn’t mean to stir up painful memories or uncomfortable thoughts.” She said, sincerely. In a way, she was glad that she asked. On multiple occasions she found herself thinking that nothing affected him ever. He didn’t get scared, or nervous, or sad. It was like he was invulnerable to certain emotions, or perhaps he just pretended to be.