Showing up out of nowhere, not once wondering if the man who had bothered to save his life was as safe as the heroes outside were, whether he could truly be trusted. The answer was hiding in plain sight. His appearance alone betrayed that he had at least the basic defect, powers or no. Compared to him, the raven-haired one looked normal.
But Atlas knew far too well that the stranger in his living room was anything but.
Clever not to ask then, and just by chance they avoid the truth. Gray eyes scan the human, the frown he permanently seemed to wear deepening slightly. You’re… thanking me? How… ironic. Another confirmation. So you really did lose your memories. What an odd case, too; would those abilities of the others’ ever return?
Atlas’ stare is critical, scanning over the other’s face, features, focus narrowing as if he really was trying to remember the man fidgeting on his couch. There is a moment’s pause, then, “…No.” He leans back, arms crossing over themselves, glancing away, “I am… sorry for you. Your situation. I wish I could be… more help.”
But… It’s not every day one’s own enemy waltzes onto their doorstep, even more rare was the opportunity given. Prey, unknowingly, limping to the lion’s den. He can’t just pass this up. Even if those powers were truly forgotten, if they ever returned, he would use them. Devour them.
The silver human sits up, eyebrow raising. “With my answer given, were you planning to just… go back to the hospital?” There’s an implied, that can’t be comfortable, in his tone. At some point they’d drop him into a home for the homeless. Then he would be lost to the crowds of the city, near impossible to find again. “You need somewhere to stay, don’t you?”
Anticipating an answer is by far the worst part of this. Being stared at, analyzed, is a sure sign of a truth he’d been hoping not to hear.
Of course you don’t know me. It’s a though that makes his heart drop, although if he were honest with himself, he already knew that from the outset. After all, if his rescuer had been someone in his personal life, the mystery of his identity would be at least half solved already.
He wouldn’t have been alone in that sterile place.
...it’s the... lack of familiarity perhaps that stings more. That they likely never crossed paths in any notable way, not even casually once in this massive city. If I’m even from here. Another notion that ate away at him. If he’d been visiting for any reason, his odds of discovering the past dwindled ever further. “Well, I appreciate your time anyway.” The raven manages to mask his disappointment with a half smile, starting to move to stand.
When questioned himself however, he hesitates. “...I... ah.” Glancing away, the amnesiac seems to mull the offer over. “I... was goin’ back, yeah.” What other choice is there? Unsaid, but no doubt heard just the same. “Er... I... that’s a nice offer, but you already helped me once.” Awkward, this feels awkward.
With a sigh, he meets the gray eyes looking at him with concern. “...would you... really be comfortable with that?” Because part of him really wants to say yes, even if it meant filling out some complicated papers with his doctors. “I mean, for all we both know, I could’ve been some dangerous super villain before this,” or his savior could be a vigilante risking outing himself with such a kindness, though the idea goes unmentioned.
“...you’re... really sure about this?”
