empathicfault | IC Inbox

Tired and hungry are probably good signs. You didn't feel that way there, right? Or feel the passage of time?

[ Okay, the more pressing question: ] Do you need me to bring you a sandwich or five?

The only reason I knew how much time was passing was because I could look at the network.

[Things she doesn't say: she'd done her best not to dwell on that, because it had reminded her of how it had felt to be in Decima's hands. Greer has certainly never afforded her a clock or a calendar. ]

Sandwiches would be good. I wanna see you, anyway.

That's good, because I want to see you, too. Gotta bring Bear and Jet back, right?

All right, give me fifteen minutes and I'll be over.

[ He never gives himself enough time to get anywhere, but he does tend to make it somehow. In twelve minutes, he's knocking on her door and calling: ] Dog Delivery!

[ Bear and Jet both sit properly on either side of him, behaving very well despite the bag of foot-long sandwiches Will is carrying with him. ]

Edited 2024-02-10 22:36 (UTC)

[As soon as she opens the door, Shaw bends, placing a hand on each dog's head and leaning in to let them snuffle at her face. Her eyes closed and her attention still seemingly directed downwards, she asks Will:]

Tell me how you're doing?

[ Will smiles at the reunion, and it curls a bit at the question. He knew she'd need to ask. ]

Better, now that I can tell you aren't emaciated, just hungry. And...

[ He looks away, then nods- as if in concession: ] Better, since you started checking in fairly regularly. The little itch at the back of my throat, that tells me I should scream? It faded, some.

[ Will risks a look towards her, at least at the dogs. ]

I...I'm really not sure why I reacted so strongly, after we got pulled back onto the ship. We were here and you weren't, and I panicked.

I'm sorry.

[She looks up at him now, her expression deadly serious.]

I don't regret doing my job, and I fundamentally disagree with everyone who tried to tell me it wasn't my job, but I didn't want that for you. And we should, uh-- I'm thinking we should try to talk through why it happened. Maybe we can figure it out.

[ He'll meet her eyes, out of surprise more than probably anything else. He sees something in there that satisfies him, as he nods and his lips twitch up slightly into a barely-there smile. ]

Sure. I might've gotten a couple of clues since then, too. I can tell you about them while you eat?

[ He shakes the bag in display. He did want to make sure she ate, after all. ]

[Don't mind if she does. Reaching into the bag, she pulls out the first sandwich that her hand touches, cradling it protectively against her body when Jet sniffs hopefully in her direction.]

Uh-uh. Mine.

[Pulling herself to her feet, she steps back into the cabin, leaving space for Will to follow before she shuts the door behind them. She has a bed made up on the couch, which is where she heads - shoving aside a blanket and a pillow that's stuffed into a t-shirt so that she can sit and sink her teeth into the sandwich, closing her eyes and letting out a small appreciative moan.

(The shirt, as he might be able to sense, is Root's shirt. Having it close at hand doesn't make her worry less, but it's nice to sleep on; it's soft, and it smells good, and it's just as it should be, unlike the comatose body up in the loft that's too much like an inanimate object for Shaw's comfort.) ]

Edited 2024-02-11 04:12 (UTC)

[ Will can definitely smell Root on the shirt as he comes near he couch- she's someone who he's gotten used to the smell of, as weird as that sounds. It makes him smile a bit, as that's something he'd do with some of Malcolm's clothes on the nights they're not together. He'd thought it was just a wolf thing.

He doesn't disturb the little nest, instead sitting on the floor in hopes of dogs to pet. He lets Shaw take a few bites before he starts in. ]

I- well, I had a dream, after that talk with you. You...your body was set up on display. Some sort of magic held it together as it separated neatly into sixteen vertical slices. The pieces pulled apart neatly as I tried to run towards you, but some invisible forcefield kept me from getting closer.

[ He rubs at his face, sighing. It doesn't take a psychology degree to see where all that came from. Of course, he doesn't know if Shaw remembers Beverly Katz's death and display. There has been so many horrors in his life. ]

We were in a river, but it was my river in Wolf Trap- where I like to fish. Where I...go, sometimes, when I'm stressed out. And I watched as pieces of you kept sliding down into it. Disappearing under the surface.

[It takes her a moment, but Shaw makes a point of rereading his file regularly. She chews, swallows, and then says:]

Beverly was the only one at the FBI who acted like she gave even a little bit of a crap about you. And she died because she went off to investigate Hannibal by herself.

[She stops here, wanting to make sure she's picking up the right train of thought before continuing.]

[ Right in one. Will sighs a bit, more tired than anything. ]

Yeah. She did. I told her to be careful, to not go alone, but- I still didn't stop her. Maybe I couldn't have.

She died, and the tiny glimmer of hope I still had died with her. And I think this just- it felt like the same thing was happening...even though I know it's not, not really comparable.

[Shaw nods slowly, sighs - and, uncharacteristically, sets aside her half-eaten sandwich.]

I didn't want to do it all alone, you know. I wanted back-up. You and I were a good team, when you were down on the planet, and then after - I thought once I said I was alive and fine people would actually want to work with me instead of against me. Stupid mistake, I guess. I know how this place is.

But I'm frustrated with them, not with you. I'm not mad that you were worried.

[ Will frowns briefly as she puts the sandwich down. But she does need to talk. Will licks his lips and stares down at Bear's paws as she continued, and even after she's finished. He takes his time forming his thoughts into words. ]

I think...I've gotten used to...not expecting to die every other week.

[ He gives her a weak, worn-out, and mirthless smile. ]

This place is insane, but that- that is one thing I don't have to worry about in general. People leave, they usually get their deals or their lives and leave, but they don't die very often. Even if an inmate disappears, there's the possibility that they'll come back. Have another try.

And when I was used to the constant danger, it was... When you expect to die every moment, that's almost its own form of immortality. Only the next step matters, only the situation you're in right then.

Trying to switch between the two...maybe that's where I tripped up. I felt fear and then- when I realized I could jump in the river to get you, but I wasn't going to- guilt.

[Clocking her sandwich to make sure it's not in easy grabbing range for the dogs (they could go for it, but they'd have to put in more effort than just lifting their heads, and that's good enough), Shaw slides onto the floor, too: still a couple feet away from him, but on the same level now.]

I didn't expect you to, and I don't blame you for not doing it. You get that, right?

[ Will starts shaking his head before she's even reaches her question. ]

Yeah- yeah. I get that. I know you didn't have expectations. I guess...I don't know why you didn't. If you were in there, navigating and fighting your ass off for a couple of weeks and getting people back, why shouldn't I be?

[ He shrugs, more of an excuse to hike his shoulders up than anything else. ]

That first week, we were helping with the travel to the city. That was important. But after, when you were still out there-

[ He frowns, chews on his lip, then shakes his head. ]

I guess it hit that the Admiral could just as easily have left you stranded there, in that world. That I could've done more so it wouldn't have been a possibility.

[Shaw lapses into a thoughtful silence, giving herself time to put together her words before releasing them out in the world. She picks idly at the edge of the couch cushion, and when Jet noses his head underneath her hand, she picks idly at his fur, too.]

The kind of work I do - I chose this, every step of the way. I've never been strong-armed or guilted into it; I've never had a Jack Crawford in my professional life.

This place asks a hell of a lot of you. I don't think those expectations are unfair, but asking you to be my backup would be. That's not your role. You helped, and I appreciate that, but when you needed to tap out - I get that; I respect that. And, uh-- Death was easier for me than it was for a lot of people. That's another thing that I think people don't get.

[ Will listens thoughtfully, his thoughts under a fairly blank mask as he rolls them around in his head. Eventually, he breaks into a tired smirk. ]

You're probably attributing more of a selfless motivation to me than is fully accurate. It's not about roles or duty or 'what I should do.' It's about fear...what I could've lost, out of carelessness on my part.

I have lost almost everyone I've connected with, on any level. You know that. And it's not- not that I can't let it happen again. It's more that I don't deserve to. That I wanted you here, and I could've done more to ensure that.

I got...worried, that I'd never see you again. And because of my past experiences, that worry bloomed into a panic and I started getting irrational.

[Ah.

There's another pause, albeit a shorter one; this is less figuring out how to respond and more figuring out which branching path she wants to chase down first. To his reading, it may have the appearance of standing at the head of a crossroads, or standing at the base of a large tree trunk.]

When I said I was doing okay, and didn't feel like I was in excessive danger or risk of harm - I did mean that. The whole 'can't really die' thing was... weird, but it was a boon.

[ It's almost helpful, to feel like there's a path he's walking down with Shaw. As (almost) always, in their conversations, he lets her steer. She seems to know where she'd like to take them.

And they can always come back to the crossroads later. ]

I know you meant it. But I also didn't know if there was anything about the river that could be unusually sinister. A lot of magic- especially with people from mundane worlds like us- it can happen without any outward signs.

And the instructions to not look up at the stars? It sounded like something that could put you under thrall. You seemed all right, but- I don't know anything about the magic here. I didn't know how you- or anyone- might be affected, especially long-term.

You should at least finish off a sandwich, by the way. I'm not going anywhere.

The section before that was a bigger thrall for me. It was empty; blank. Like the helmet, but more. I would have been tempted to actually spend some time there if I hadn't had a mission.

[She takes another bite, almost by rote, but she's clearly distracted.]

Anything I can do next time to help? I could, uh-- I dunno, livestream for you.

[ Will snorts with a laugh, but then stops- and with a small shake of his head: ] Yeah, actually.

It...helped a lot when you started checking in more. I could...also possibly just call you more often. But I didn't want to interrupt a fight just to ease my anxiety.

Trust me, I fight and talk all the time at home; that's a Tuesday for me. Talking and climbing waterfalls might've been harder, but we could've made it work.

[ Will nods, looking slightly sheepish as he does so. ]

In that case...? Yeah. That would be helpful. But I don't think the concern's going to hit again unless we fall outside the Barge's resurrection abilities.

...or Hannibal shows up, but that's sort of a five-alarm fire situation, anyway.

Maybe it won't hit again, but I like contingency plans. Steps we can both take. That, uh--

[She pauses, and Bear paws at her leg, making a faint smile briefly cross her face.]

That's something I'm working on, when I can feel myself not thinking clearly. Or... thinking too much.

["Thinking too much": her way of describing the way her brain will sometimes go into high alert at the slightest provocation, picking apart anything and everything for hidden tells of unreality.]

[ He knows exactly what she might be overthinking about, so he doesn't address it. ]

Contingency plans are good to have. Especially considering how often compromised we are here.

And...I've done the 'livestreaming' thing with Malcolm a couple of times. It helps, when things feel dicey.

Re: audio; dated to after she returns

Re: audio; dated to after she returns

Re: audio; dated to after she returns

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