gunsforhire | Log: When I Talk You Should Listen

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Log: When I Talk You Should Listen

Who: Felix (Native), Oquirrh (Original)
What: You thought for a second that you could get away with this? Seriously?
Where: Oquirrh's safehouse but really it's Florida's
When: Friday Night 8/14
Warnings: Possible Violence, Definitely Cursing

She really thought that breaking away was going to have no consequences. Well he was going to prove her wrong. He had been watching her all of yesterday and had a clear cut idea of where the little bird was staying at. A little old safehouse towards the outer edges of this crappy city.

This was going to be fun. He can sync up later with the team and the other primes.

Breaking into the apartment was relatively easy. Just a nice slip of his knife and maybe a moment or two with a decoder and he was in. Felix surveyed the place with a slight disdain. God Oquirrh can be one boring individual. There were a couple of her stupid knitted stuff laying about. Kicking the needles and yarn off the couch, he stretches out along its length. At least it was comfy.

He crossed his legs lightly and spins his knife in his hands. Now all he had to do was wait.

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That's crying and blood and no, no, this wasn't supposed to happen, she's supposed to be safe now that she's left control. Deep breaths, Washington. He knows the last thing she needs is him panicking.

"Hey, Oquirrh," he says softly, kneeling down beside her. "It's me, Wash." He leans in to give her forehead a kiss. "It's gonna be alright, yeah? You're strong--you--" He takes another deep breath. Can't let his voice crack. He's got to be here for her, dammit. "--You'll get through this. I'll help. We'll all help."

Wash came, even though she didn't ask. "You're here," she whispers. If only she could lean closer or take his hand, she would.

So many people have come for her. Deep down, she wishes they wouldn't. She's not worth the trouble. Yet it's so good to see him, to feel his lips against her forehead, that the thought vanishes from her mind.

"Thank you," she says instead, and she truly does cry happy tears this time.

"Of course I am," he responds. "You're the most important person in my life. I just wish we were having date night under slightly better circumstances." He's trying to make an attempt at a joke. It's not a very good one, but he hopes it'll help her focus on something else. That wound looks like it hurts bad. He wishes he could help her, do something besides just being there, but this will have to do. For now.

Whoever did this is going to pay. That twist in Wash's gut makes him think he already knows who--or what--did it.

Even through her tears, she manages a smile. "We do end up at the hospital a lot," she says. "I--I'm going to need surgery. Again."

Luckily she had been saving up for a place of her own. It's a setback, but not as devastating as the last one. Just more immediate and agonizing. Less painful because he's here.

"Again?" The question slips out before Wash realizes this now is not the time to be quizzing Oquirrh on her traumatic life events. He takes her hand and squeezes it gently, hoping she didn't notice the shock in his voice.

"Well, you're a pro at it then. I bet our couch is still there and everything."

"You'll have to find it for me," she whispers. She would much rather be with him than stuck in a hospital bed.

It occurs to her then that he has never seen her scars. They talked about her joining Control, but never why, and certainly never about the consequences of her actions. "F--Felix says they're g--g--going to t--take my arm back." Her voice quavers. She knows they would. And if they find out the extent of her betrayal--

No. They won't. They can't.

"Don't worry," he promises. "You won't be on an uncomfortable hospital bed for long. Five minutes, max."

Take her arm back? So that's what they used to keep her hooked in. Her own body, used against her. It's disgusting. Wash hasn't hated anyone more than he hates Control now.

"Felix isn't going to take anything. He isn't getting near you again. I don't care what it takes. You're going to be safe. You deserve it." Enough of this Control bullshit. He'll put a knife through Felix himself if that's what it takes. Gladly.

"Thanks." A little while ago, she might not have felt like she deserved it. Wash wouldn't lie to her. If only she would run her fingers through his hair, just like York said to do. And not because she's checking for a lie, because she has no idea how she deserves to have him at her side.

Especially when she knows who's coming.

"Jersey's going to be here," she whispers. "He knows about the last surgery. I'm sorry."

While Jersey isn't Wash's first choice for company, Wash knows how much he means to Oquirrh. He'll stay in the house and make sure there isn't any funny business, but he's not going to begrudge her her teammate. That wouldn't be fair.

"You don't need to be sorry for anything. I'm glad he's coming. Shows he cares." He takes her hand in his, using his thumb to gently stroke her hand. "Try to think of something happy. Or peaceful. Anything."

She smiles, grateful for contact that was calming rather than peaceful or prying. "Snow," she whispers. Is there anything more peaceful than lying in a snow bank, watching flakes fall from the sky?

"Driving at night, seeing the stars." No. She's still missing something.

"You," she whispers.

"It'll all be yours," he whispers. "After all this is over, we'll get a ship. See the stars. Take you back to the snow and the mountains, even if it's only for a day."

"Even here, we'll drive out to the open plains where you can hear the wind making shapes and see thousand-year-old stars. We'll find a tree, somewhere, there's gotta be one, even if we have to search for months. We'll climb it and be that much closer to the sky."

He kisses her again. "Just hang in there."

"I think I'd like that."

It's more than that. It lets her dare to hope that there will be an end to this, to stop wondering how long she'll manage to go this time without wrecking her shoulder. There's an end to her suffering.

"I love you, Wash." She'll hold on. For him.

And now Wash is crying, too. It shouldn't have to be like this. She deserves to be happy. That's all he wants. A happy, safe, Oquirrh. But right now, they're just not going to get a break. It's not fair.

He's crying too, but Wash still manages to hold onto the smile. "I love you too," he responds. "So much. So, so much."

Look at them. They're a happy, crying mess. She curls her fingers around his.

"We're going to be okay," she whispers. "I trust you."

"I'm just so glad you're here."

They're a crying mess, but at least they're together.

"I'm not going to leave." Especially not now. She needs him, so he's going to be there for her. Simple as that.

Later, though, he'll have to figure out how to deal with Felix.

"Thank you," she whispers. "I don't want to go back to the hospital, but--"

She has to. It's either that or live with a fragile shoulder for the rest of her life.

"The doctors will help you, though," Wash points out. Hopefully this is reassuring. "And I'll be there, and Florida, and Lou, and even, you know, Jersey." That guy. "You're not going to have to do this alone. And whatever happened last time is going to be nothing, nothing, like this go-round."

There's the embarrassing issue of painkillers, but Wash is right. It'll be better this time.

"I'm scared to be alone," she says. "I'm so so very glad you're here."

Wash pulls her into a sort of half-hug, doing his best not to agitate her wound. "You won't be. Not for a single minute."

He smiles again. "And when you wake up from surgery, I'll have a present for you."

He hopes the shampoo will make her happy. He really, really hopes so.

"I'll be happy just to have you there," she whispers. "Thank you." She holds him close with her good arm and never wants to let go.

"Always," he murmurs, stroking her hair. The cats like it, he thinks it's soothing, and he hope it has the same effect on Oquirrh. He hopes she can find a little peace, even now. He just wants to lessen the pain. Is that too much to ask?

She makes a little sound that's half hum and half sob. He's wonderful. It's so much easier to focus on him than on her throbbing shoulder. Especially with his gentle hand in her hair.

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Log: When I Talk You Should Listen

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