hostage | EXSILIUM

Juice, like - like what kinda juice?

Fruit juice. [And it occurs to her that she's not making sense.] Sorry, I lost a lot of blood. I could use the sugar.

Shit -

[Watch him spring into action! He's already halfway to the kitchen.]

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sit. I'll - Yeah, I got some.

[What if she follows after him instead of sitting. She's pretty sure if she sits down she's just never going to want to get up again.]

I'm okay, I mean-- this isn't exactly my first rodeo.

[Blood loss rodeo???

Steph pls.]

I ain't stupid and this ain't no rodeo. You don't fuck around with losing blood, yo. I know a thing or two.

[Jesse won't scold her for following, though. He can't really blame her. He keeps talking while he digs up some lemonade from the fridge and pours a glass:]

You're not still bleeding, are you? Should I get a healer or something? Like somebody fast.

[He turns to offer her the cup, the expression on his face very much conveying an expectation that she'll collapse any moment and die at his feet.]

I know what I can handle.

[Any other time and there might be anger there; she likely would have bristled with the perceived implication that she doesn't know what she's doing (whether he meant it or not) but she's too tired for it right now, so she sounds more like she's trying to reassure him than anything else.]

First thing I did when I got to the apartment was stitch it up, I'll be fine.

[But she's grateful for the juice, and probably drinks it a little quicker than she would otherwise.]

Stitches are kinda bullshit when you compare 'em to magic, though, right? Anyway, um, I could make you some food? Or heat something up?

I've got no idea how many healers are even left, and I'm not making them waste energy on me when there are other people who need it.

[She'd considered going to the clinic anyway, to offer her help, but there's no way she'd be steady enough for it.

She shakes her head at the offer of food.]

I'm not sure I could keep anything down.

[He understands that feeling, and he also knows there's no point in pushing someone to eat when they're just going to hurl it right back up.]

You're not gonna slow me down when we're on our little rescue mission, are you?

[Now he's teasing, albeit dryly. She's Batgirl and he's Jesse "Can't Walk Two Steps Without Tripping Over His Enormous Pants" Pinkman.]

[That gets the first expression from here that isn't "vaguely panicked", and it's a very flat look.]

I could've lost my leg and I'd still be able to keep up.

[Excuse you, Mr. Pinkman.

But it does help her focus.]

What firearms training do you have?

[Because no offence, she doubts Jesse would be great at hand to hand combat.]

I ain't no Lee Harvey Oswald but shooting's one of the only things I'm good at. I can hit a bullseye at twenty-five yards with a pistol, hundred more yards with a rifle. 'course, it depends on the gun, too. But I train with a lotta different ones.

[She nods.]

Good. I'm gonna head to the armoury at some point and work out what I want. I figure Ellie will kick my ass if I don't at least bring her a rifle.

[And it helps to prepare like Ellie will be in a state to use a rifle, because she doesn't want to consider other possibilities.]

[He's nodding at first, figuring he'll go along with Steph to arm up, but then that second thing confuses him for a number of reasons. Chief among them: why can't Ellie (either Ellie, really) grab a rifle for herself?]

- Wait, what?

[Oh.]

Ellie left, my Ellie. [She tries a rueful smile, but it falls flat] I didn't realize something was wrong until it was too late to go after her.

[By a few days.

She just let her walk away.]

[What a horrible feeling. Worse, even, than losing Saul. There's a difference between a grown man - someone equally as morally repugnant as Jesse, too - being M.I.A. after a battle, and this: Ellie, who is young and afraid and has been tortured enough already, being drawn straight into the enemy's hands while none of them noticed.

Jesse sucks in a breath, the same way he would if someone just twisted a knife in his gut.]

[She'd been trying so hard to keep it together, even if she wasn't doing a great job of it, but the way Jesse reacts to that news just undoes everything.]

I'm gonna get her back.

[Her voice cracks, and she has to bite her lip to stop it from trembling. She's so sick of crying.]

[Jesse's natural urge is to hug her, and he gives in to that, moving to tentatively put an arm around her shoulders. Light enough that she can push him away if she wants to. But he kind of needs that hug, himself.]

I know you will.

[She doesn't think of pushing him away. Instead, she winds her arms around his waist and grips the fabric of his shirt. The reassurance helps a little, but she's scared all over again, with the guilt that she can't seem to shake off, these days.]

What am I gonna do if they hurt her?

[She knows he doesn't have an answer to that, but she desperately wants him to.]

[Jesse tightens his hold on her, and though it's in his nature to fall to pieces right about now, he manages to stay strong. For Steph, for Ellie, for Saul. He can cry about this later, when every other option has been exhausted, if he's still alive by that point. He holds Steph like he intends to support her in every way, and she can be the one to fall apart if she needs to, in this moment while they have nothing to do but wait anyway.]

They'll pay. If they hurt her, they'll pay for it.

[She's grateful for it, because she feels like Jesse gets it in a way that maybe no one else can.]

That doesn't undo it.

[Her dad killed Murray, and it never made it easier, it never stopped her from feeling on edge around men she didn't know.

Knowing Sionis was dead didn't stop her nightmares.]

We've got the power to undo it. And then some.

[And he intends to personally burn the U.E. to the ground, or die trying, if they do to Ellie and Saul what they did to Adam. But even though his voice sounds raspy and murderous when he says that, he's stroking Steph's back with a tenderness that's in sharp contrast. What he really wants right now is just to make her feel better. Maybe vengeance won't even be necessary, if they carry out the rescue without a hitch.]

It's kinda hard to have faith in the whole time travel thing when everything keeps getting worse.

[She hates how bitter and exhausted she sounds, but she's too worn out to keep up with the optimistic facade.

All she can is hold onto Jesse and be grateful for the comfort and try to keep the tears at bay.]

[It isn't doing her any good to think about this right now. Instead, Jesse shifts slightly, still keeping an arm around her, but trying to lead her gently out of the kitchen.]

Come on. Lie down for a couple minutes 'til the sugar rush kicks in, okay? We're gonna do a lotta running around soon.

There's stuff I need to do.

[But the protest is weak, and she's moving where led, because all she wants to do is curl up somewhere and pretend like everything hasn't gone to shit.]

Yeah, I know. We'll go soon.

[She'll get all of nothing done if she faints or breaks down or something. He takes her to his bedroom, which is a lot cleaner than it was a week ago but still reeks of cigarette smoke. The bed, however, is a lot more comfortable than the couch out in the living room. He lets go of her briefly to fix the blankets for her, then returns to her, pressing his hand to the small of her back to ease her forward.]

Just for a minute. It's okay.

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