The look she gives him is nonplussed, and she's suspicious enough to stand where she is while he moves around her. She doesn't comment on it, just walks with him at least as far as outside before they split off in their own directions again. She'll figure out something by the time she has to call.
Then the rest of the festival happens, and she doesn't call; she can't, she has no idea where her phone is after the fucking orgy. She does leave a handwritten note on the island in her suite in case Jesus stops there looking for her so he knows she's still here, she hasn't disappeared, but she isn't home for a few days.
Then, she is again like nothing happened, except she still doesn't know where her phone is.
It's a tone that makes her eyebrows raise, and would normally bring her out swinging straight back; it doesn't this time because she's surprised to see him at all, let alone that upset.
"Did I forget signing something that required me to check in with you?" she throws back reflexively.
He makes it as far as getting the door open while she argues with herself. It's a swift argument, but it's one she has with herself often so she knows how it ends.
"Jesus, wait -" She won't physically catch him in time, especially if he doesn't want her to, but she reaches out anyway.
He isn't waiting for her to call out, he isn't expecting her to try. She manages to speak up with the door just opened, and he looks back at her, hurt and confused and worried.
"Just come find me when you're ready." He shouldn't have come here before she was ready to talk to him.
He lingers before he steps back inside, because he's not sure what to ask now. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I don't have to keep you long."
She waits with him, counting down her own reaction, dropping her keys on the island.
(The irony that it's Jesus of all people worrying enough to snap at her for not being where she's supposed to be does not escape her, but she sets that side for now, too.)
"I don't have anywhere to be. I'm all yours, whatever you've got on your mind," she promises him, spreading her arms a bit in demonstration. She's still healing, there are scrapes on her palms and scratches and bruising disappearing under her collar at her neck, but she's in one piece.
"I don't." No pressing business. No urgent tasks. There's a flicker of something in his expression, underneath the worry, something a little bit younger and less certain. "I just wanted to see if you were coming back yet." Or at all.
He gestures vaguely at his pocket. "I would have just called but I didn't know if you'd found your phone yet."
She's watching him, more alert than she's felt in days even if she's not sold yet on that being a good thing. It's an advantage now, for sure.
She shakes her head, still watchful. "I didn't. I have no idea where it is." And she did look, but what memories she has of how Tumenalia ended weren't focused on where she was while people were doing things to her, only that they were.
She lowers her arms. "Of course I was coming back."
Of course I was coming back. He doesn't dwell on how that feels, how the doubts rail against the clear evidence that she did in fact come back.
"I'm sorry," is what he says. That he was tense. That he lost his composure for a moment there. He shakes his head, not wanting to dwell. "We have to get you a phone. I can help you look."
He hesitates, but there's no good distraction right now, nothing demanding their attention. For once they do get to just talk.
"Scott was tortured by someone he cared about during the festival. They were drugged into it. And people have been disappearing--I just worried." That she was hurt. That something had happened and she needed help she couldn't call for. That she was just gone.
She's not so hardened that the news of someone being drugged into torturing someone who cares about them doesn't make her go cold somewhere inside; she can see how it happens all too easily, knows that she had been an unlucky moment away from it herself a few times, but she made it out. She's not a fan of ruminating on the close calls.
She glances over to the island. "That's why I left the note -" I'm okay. Call you when I can, lost my phone. "- and all my things. I didn't want you to worry. Is Scott okay?"
"Of course I worried," he says softly. A note doesn't make anything better.
"He's fine. I don't think he even blames the other person." He thinks about telling her about Midnighter, about Drake's panicked text, but it doesn't seem relevant now. Midnighter was drugged when he hurt Scott; he wasn't when he met up with Jesus. At no point did Jesus worry for his safety.
"I got in touch with Carver. He's going to go after Felix at some point."
If she knew, she'd worry in turn; both of them have survived so many mundane horrors back home, so many daily threats, that it had never really occurred to her as more than a passing thought then. Jesus is one of the most capable survivors she knows. She'd felt pathetically grateful when she saw him and Aaron in the woods, when she knew it was two fighters who had found her, two people who could mind themselves as well as her instead of having to try to limp someone like Eugene along beside her.
But the dangers in Duplicity are different. Laws make anyone who breaks them an enemy of the entire city, never mind the law or the reason, and even the most capable fighters, thieves, and runaways go down under numbers. And that's not even counting all the hostages available in new friends and loved ones, to which Jesus is particularly vulnerable.
For now though, she just looks at him. "I know." About Carver, about Felix. "And he'll hurt him. And maybe Felix will hurt him back. And I wish he wouldn't but I don't have a better suggestion, so -" Have at, the hand motion she makes says for her. "Did he... say anything else?" she asks, hoping she doesn't sound too tentative.
"He said he'd come back to my place after. I offered him whiskey and food." A minor celebration, but also a way for him to be sure Carver was in one piece or could be put back together.
"All ex-military are fucking crazy, it's just a matter of how they manage it," she answers without having to think about it. She hasn't met the exception to that rule yet, and doubts she ever will, especially in the modern era.
"But he put tourniquets on Carver after the fog. Still did it, still left him there alone, but stopped the bleed. It's the only reason I made it to him at all. I don't understand what's there."
He frowns, mulling that over. "Helps to have someone to fight. Someone you know will always want to fight you." It's steady in a way that human, gentle connections probably are not for either of those men.
It's easier when relationships fall into one category or another completely: people you love who won't fight you, people you hate who won't show you kindness or consideration. Problem is, people rarely do that.
She sighs and pulls her hat off, finger combing her hair back into place, satisfied that either Carver didn't say anything about how he found her or Jesus is saving it for later - but the latter is more her issue than realistically Jesus's choice of tactics.
She laughs, a soft sound that seems to get stuck in her throat as she shakes her head.
"I'm okay," she insists, because she genuinely believes she is. She's on her feet, it's behind her, she's not going to die; she can think clearly and she is. She's handling her shit still, for the most part, and the rest is still manageable.
"It was just a lot. I was in Riddler's Square when... whatever it was... hit, is all." Halfway between the Up and the Down, the most heavily trafficked area in the city as far as she knows.
The metrics they use to measure being 'okay' are different than those used here. He believes she could push on and keep fighting walkers and building a town just fine like this, but they don't have those problems anymore. It means all the things they push aside to keep moving forward have a chance to creep up on them.
It's a lot, but she doesn't linger on it now; there's been enough time that she's figured out how to avoid the worst of it, pull herself up out of the places she still trips. No one who knows her less well than Jesus would probably even notice anything now when she shrugs.
"After." She's still a little unclear on the timeline, and uninterested in thinking about it enough to work it out. "I needed to not be in the city, so I left it for a while."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2022-12-18 05:01 am (UTC)Then the rest of the festival happens, and she doesn't call; she can't, she has no idea where her phone is after the fucking orgy. She does leave a handwritten note on the island in her suite in case Jesus stops there looking for her so he knows she's still here, she hasn't disappeared, but she isn't home for a few days.
Then, she is again like nothing happened, except she still doesn't know where her phone is.
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Date: 2022-12-18 05:04 am (UTC)Jesus is a calm presence even in intense circumstances.
He's not calm right now; he's spent three days worrying about her, on top of worrying about Drake.
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Date: 2022-12-18 05:12 am (UTC)"Did I forget signing something that required me to check in with you?" she throws back reflexively.
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Date: 2022-12-18 05:15 am (UTC)He doesn't even know why he's here, she could have come to find him when she was ready, so he turns. "Sorry to interrupt."
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Date: 2022-12-18 05:18 am (UTC)"Jesus, wait -" She won't physically catch him in time, especially if he doesn't want her to, but she reaches out anyway.
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Date: 2022-12-18 05:21 am (UTC)"Just come find me when you're ready." He shouldn't have come here before she was ready to talk to him.
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Date: 2022-12-18 05:23 am (UTC)And knows that there's more going on for both of them right now than on the surface, so she adds, "Are you?"
He can still go, she won't stop him if she's hurt him too badly just now. But she didn't mean to.
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Date: 2022-12-18 05:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-18 05:31 am (UTC)(The irony that it's Jesus of all people worrying enough to snap at her for not being where she's supposed to be does not escape her, but she sets that side for now, too.)
"I don't have anywhere to be. I'm all yours, whatever you've got on your mind," she promises him, spreading her arms a bit in demonstration. She's still healing, there are scrapes on her palms and scratches and bruising disappearing under her collar at her neck, but she's in one piece.
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Date: 2022-12-18 05:41 am (UTC)He gestures vaguely at his pocket. "I would have just called but I didn't know if you'd found your phone yet."
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Date: 2022-12-18 05:47 am (UTC)She shakes her head, still watchful. "I didn't. I have no idea where it is." And she did look, but what memories she has of how Tumenalia ended weren't focused on where she was while people were doing things to her, only that they were.
She lowers her arms. "Of course I was coming back."
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Date: 2022-12-18 06:31 pm (UTC)"I'm sorry," is what he says. That he was tense. That he lost his composure for a moment there. He shakes his head, not wanting to dwell. "We have to get you a phone. I can help you look."
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Date: 2022-12-18 06:46 pm (UTC)He doesn't want to dwell. She's not going to just let it slide, not when it's so out of character for him.
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Date: 2022-12-18 06:49 pm (UTC)"Scott was tortured by someone he cared about during the festival. They were drugged into it. And people have been disappearing--I just worried." That she was hurt. That something had happened and she needed help she couldn't call for. That she was just gone.
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Date: 2022-12-18 08:14 pm (UTC)She glances over to the island. "That's why I left the note -" I'm okay. Call you when I can, lost my phone. "- and all my things. I didn't want you to worry. Is Scott okay?"
Is Scott going to die?
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Date: 2022-12-18 08:21 pm (UTC)"He's fine. I don't think he even blames the other person." He thinks about telling her about Midnighter, about Drake's panicked text, but it doesn't seem relevant now. Midnighter was drugged when he hurt Scott; he wasn't when he met up with Jesus. At no point did Jesus worry for his safety.
"I got in touch with Carver. He's going to go after Felix at some point."
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Date: 2022-12-18 08:31 pm (UTC)But the dangers in Duplicity are different. Laws make anyone who breaks them an enemy of the entire city, never mind the law or the reason, and even the most capable fighters, thieves, and runaways go down under numbers. And that's not even counting all the hostages available in new friends and loved ones, to which Jesus is particularly vulnerable.
For now though, she just looks at him. "I know." About Carver, about Felix. "And he'll hurt him. And maybe Felix will hurt him back. And I wish he wouldn't but I don't have a better suggestion, so -" Have at, the hand motion she makes says for her. "Did he... say anything else?" she asks, hoping she doesn't sound too tentative.
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Date: 2022-12-18 08:40 pm (UTC)"What's your read on Felix?"
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Date: 2022-12-18 08:43 pm (UTC)"But he put tourniquets on Carver after the fog. Still did it, still left him there alone, but stopped the bleed. It's the only reason I made it to him at all. I don't understand what's there."
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Date: 2022-12-18 08:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-18 08:50 pm (UTC)It's easier when relationships fall into one category or another completely: people you love who won't fight you, people you hate who won't show you kindness or consideration. Problem is, people rarely do that.
She sighs and pulls her hat off, finger combing her hair back into place, satisfied that either Carver didn't say anything about how he found her or Jesus is saving it for later - but the latter is more her issue than realistically Jesus's choice of tactics.
"You make it through okay?"
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Date: 2022-12-18 08:59 pm (UTC)"I'm fine," he says, and he is. The bruises are green and yellow and fading, the scab is gone. "What happened for you?"
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Date: 2022-12-18 09:08 pm (UTC)"I'm okay," she insists, because she genuinely believes she is. She's on her feet, it's behind her, she's not going to die; she can think clearly and she is. She's handling her shit still, for the most part, and the rest is still manageable.
"It was just a lot. I was in Riddler's Square when... whatever it was... hit, is all." Halfway between the Up and the Down, the most heavily trafficked area in the city as far as she knows.
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Date: 2022-12-18 09:11 pm (UTC)And what she's describing is a lot.
"When did you manage to get home?"
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Date: 2022-12-18 09:18 pm (UTC)"After." She's still a little unclear on the timeline, and uninterested in thinking about it enough to work it out. "I needed to not be in the city, so I left it for a while."
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