[The first clue that this isn't just the worst possible misunderstanding is that stagger. That's the stagger of a guy who put everything into that first swing, who didn't even hesitate, and that- that's not the guy he knows. The guy he knows wouldn't just kill like this, not even if he doesn't remember who Hank is. He wouldn't just run out of nowhere and throw himself into murder, that's not what people do, not to strangers. And he's got to be thinking of Hank as a stranger, doesn't he? He's not even talking, he's as creepy-quiet as those blank, humming places in the show, cold as the blizzard freezing up every inch of this dead, empty place. Cayde's not even really looking at Hank, not focusing on his face - it's hard to tell with a guy whose eyes might as well just be high tech LEDs but Hank doesn't even know if Cayde's looking him in the eyes.
All that's just an impression, a spark in Hank's brain. He doesn't exactly have time to sit down and have a good long think about it. All he has time to do is try to slam the back of his forearm against Cayde's, wanting to give himself a second to step in, to turn to his side, to stay low and try to bend one arm around Cayde's armpit and the other around his elbow. If he can slip a leg behind one of Cayde's and unbalance him that'll be cool too but all he wants is enough leverage to keep Cayde still for a second, keep his arm stuck and still, keep him from trying to rip Hank's guts open for at least a few seconds, that would give Hank at least a chance to get through to him.]
Cayde! This isn't you! Whatever's going on you've got to snap out of it!
[So he doesn't have the time to dig deep for anything real original. Sue him. What he's counting on to really make it through is the urgency in his voice, the familiarity of it, and honestly? Hank's not really thinking about his power. His power's just natural, it's instinct, and every time he's had to fight those fucking shadow things with just that stupid power to help him's only encouraged it, only got him leaning into the fear every time he might not come out of something like this alive, leaning into the desperation without even thinking about it - into the worry too, this time, not just for himself but for his friend, it's got him leaning in to what he feels when he thinks of the guy, of warmth and ease, of a world that's steady, that actually might be honest to god happy, sometimes. That's who Cayde is, to Hank. That's who he wants to see again and he pushes all that into Cayde just by wanting it, just by being worried and keyed up and wanting the guy who might be his best friend in this crazy, terrible place to just talk to him, even if he's still trying to stab the shit out of Hank while he's doing it. Hank pushes all that through every part of Cayde he might of gotten lucky enough to touch, through every split second he's lucky enough to get a hold of it. Through his forearm, his elbows, his side, anywhere. He wants it. He wants Cayde to wake up.]
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All that's just an impression, a spark in Hank's brain. He doesn't exactly have time to sit down and have a good long think about it. All he has time to do is try to slam the back of his forearm against Cayde's, wanting to give himself a second to step in, to turn to his side, to stay low and try to bend one arm around Cayde's armpit and the other around his elbow. If he can slip a leg behind one of Cayde's and unbalance him that'll be cool too but all he wants is enough leverage to keep Cayde still for a second, keep his arm stuck and still, keep him from trying to rip Hank's guts open for at least a few seconds, that would give Hank at least a chance to get through to him.]
Cayde! This isn't you! Whatever's going on you've got to snap out of it!
[So he doesn't have the time to dig deep for anything real original. Sue him. What he's counting on to really make it through is the urgency in his voice, the familiarity of it, and honestly? Hank's not really thinking about his power. His power's just natural, it's instinct, and every time he's had to fight those fucking shadow things with just that stupid power to help him's only encouraged it, only got him leaning into the fear every time he might not come out of something like this alive, leaning into the desperation without even thinking about it - into the worry too, this time, not just for himself but for his friend, it's got him leaning in to what he feels when he thinks of the guy, of warmth and ease, of a world that's steady, that actually might be honest to god happy, sometimes. That's who Cayde is, to Hank. That's who he wants to see again and he pushes all that into Cayde just by wanting it, just by being worried and keyed up and wanting the guy who might be his best friend in this crazy, terrible place to just talk to him, even if he's still trying to stab the shit out of Hank while he's doing it. Hank pushes all that through every part of Cayde he might of gotten lucky enough to touch, through every split second he's lucky enough to get a hold of it. Through his forearm, his elbows, his side, anywhere. He wants it. He wants Cayde to wake up.]