Ned leans into the touch, nodding his acceptance of what Daneel says. The way he's phrasing it makes it clear it's a decision. He is deciding the kind of man that he wants to be. Ned isn't sure he'd want to be content with that situation, either.
When Daneel says he has to ask something of Ned, he instantly listens more carefully; Daneel hardly ever asks him for anything at all. Whatever it is, it must be important. The tone of Daneel's voice only confirms this, as does the content of his request.
Ned's stomach plummets at that word, dismantle. What Daneel is asking of him is important. Objectively, he knows that. But he doesn't want to think about it as a possibility. Nothing can happen to Daneel: it isn't allowed to. The mere thought of it makes him ache with sadness. He remembers finding Daneel on the floor of this room, remembers the dream in which he died, remembers the cold, hopeless grief that he sank into after Jesse had been murdered.
Not trusting his voice, Ned nods his promise.
(Privately, he thinks he will pass this information on to River, because if that eventuality were to come to pass, he isn't sure he's going to be capable of doing much of anything.)
To remind himself that Daneel is here still, unharmed and happy and whole, Ned clings to him with sudden fervor. There is no sound of a heartbeat there to reassure him of Daneel's vitality, but there never has been (except, of course, for when he had been human). Daneel feels the way he always has - solid and reassuring. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen," he says. Then, knowing Daneel will have felt that shift in emotions and deduced that he was the cause, Ned tries to pre-empt any guilt, adds a quick, "Sorry."
no subject
When Daneel says he has to ask something of Ned, he instantly listens more carefully; Daneel hardly ever asks him for anything at all. Whatever it is, it must be important. The tone of Daneel's voice only confirms this, as does the content of his request.
Ned's stomach plummets at that word, dismantle. What Daneel is asking of him is important. Objectively, he knows that. But he doesn't want to think about it as a possibility. Nothing can happen to Daneel: it isn't allowed to. The mere thought of it makes him ache with sadness. He remembers finding Daneel on the floor of this room, remembers the dream in which he died, remembers the cold, hopeless grief that he sank into after Jesse had been murdered.
Not trusting his voice, Ned nods his promise.
(Privately, he thinks he will pass this information on to River, because if that eventuality were to come to pass, he isn't sure he's going to be capable of doing much of anything.)
To remind himself that Daneel is here still, unharmed and happy and whole, Ned clings to him with sudden fervor. There is no sound of a heartbeat there to reassure him of Daneel's vitality, but there never has been (except, of course, for when he had been human). Daneel feels the way he always has - solid and reassuring. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen," he says. Then, knowing Daneel will have felt that shift in emotions and deduced that he was the cause, Ned tries to pre-empt any guilt, adds a quick, "Sorry."