motherofnemesis | ic contact

[ She just has so much fun when they actually have serious conversations, everything's so delightful.

Right now she wouldn't really mind him calling it fixing her. It's a phrasing that normally she finds really repugnant, just because of the connotations to it, the way it tends to make her feel a little less human, a lot more like a resource that needs protecting. With him it's different. He's trying to help because he cares about her. With him fixing is a positive thing, something she can accept right now easily. ]

Don't remind me. [ She didn't handle this relatively short happening very well, if she thinks about him having had worse right now she's going to want to kill people again. He is probably in better shape than her, but she's okay to be around people a little, she thinks. Enough to get pulled together physically, and then she won't be bothering him just by her presence, and showering will give her a little bit longer to gather herself and then she'll be with him and they'll be able to help each other. It's all going to be fine. She nods, doesn't try to respond to that out loud because she's concentrating on hauling herself up with his help, stumbling a little but overall okay. Her hands spread out for a moment, to demonstrate that she's more or less stable on her feet, but return to him almost immediately. ] I'm still good.

[ Wow, delightful. He doesn't think he would have ever gone that far.

He stands up with her, slowly, at her own pace, because he's not really having too many problems with movement right now and the slow is okay. He waits for her to get to her feet, to steady herself and test standing without him, to come back and grab a hold of him and then tell him that she's okay. She's still okay, and his senses - he still can't completely turn them off, there's a buzzing under his skin, behind his eyes - indicate that this is the truth. He believed her anyway, but the subconscious affirmation is nice to have regardless.

But he lets her hold on to him however is best for her, whether that's holding on to his arm or with his arm around her shoulders, or what, and slowly starts to take them back down to their current room. She still needs to be checked for injuries, although he's sort of doing that as they go. If she doesn't have any, they can be switched to one of the overnight rooms the agents stay in. Just the pair of them, but it's isolated, quiet, soft, and would be just the two of them and whomever happens to be sleeping nearby. He'd prefer it, but she needs to be okay first. Really okay, not whatever kind of medium okay this happens to be at the moment. ]

[ Well, you know, when going for sarcasm go for the gold.

Right now lying is still the thing that comes first to her, most easily, but she knows telling the truth with him is important, even if right now she couldn't articulate precisely why it's so important. Just that he trusts her, and therefore she has to tell the truth. So she's only saying things she means, and if she's not great she is at least all right enough to go downstairs, supported in fair part by his arm around her shoulders and her arm around his waist.

There's nothing spectacularly wrong with her, or at least nothing she would consider particularly bad. The gunshot graze on her arm and the cut on her face from that last strike with the pistol she'd incited are the worst of it, really, everything else just bruising. It hurts, but it's nothing that needs more than cleaning in her opinion. But she supposes those two things do need to be sorted out, especially as she's just left them more or less exposed for hours. ] Don't go? [ A quiet request as they near the room where she knows the nurses are waiting to check her over, because she's better and people aren't going to crush her but she still - she wants him near. She's never liked hospitals much at all. ]

[ He would consider both of those to be bad things, even if, yes, not spectacularly so. He'll still feel better once they're back inside and he or one of the nurses can take a look at her. Right now he's a little to raw still, to actively use his senses on her, but from the way they're still heightened, he's not getting anything life threatening from her either. He doesn't smell internal bleeding, doesn't see any abnormal skin colorations on the skin he can see, doesn't notice her holding herself as though there's another injury she's hiding. He's trying not to look too much, because she's told him she's fine, and because he doesn't want to accidentally re-overwhelm his frazzled nerves, but to a certain degree right now, he can't really help it.

He holds her a little tighter when she speaks, because he wouldn't dream of it. He's not going anywhere right now. He firms up the shield around her a little bit more, just ekes out a tiny bit more of his own strength to do it, and stays where she wants him while the nurses gently approach her for the check-up and once-over. ]

[ She didn't think he'd be considering leaving, but the tightening of his arm and his general closeness in response is really reassuring, more so than the rational part of her mind. Letting go of him to submit to general inspection can happen, but she's watching him the whole time as closely as she can, waiting for them to bandage the few open wounds before they can leave them alone again.

That she breathes out a sigh of relief to, starts pulling her clothes off so she can change into the outfit they've left for her, similar to his. ] How are you doing? [ The lights are dimmed, the room is pretty sterile, hopefully in here will be easier on his senses. It feels strange to not be able to check as casually as she normally does, but she's keeping any contact between their minds pretty dampened right now, trying to ensure she's not leaking anything damaging. ]

[ He's watching too, carefully. He's watching to make sure they aren't hurting her by accident - which is sort of ridiculous but he's overprotective and hasn't got anything else to do but focus on the buzz of the lights and the sting of the chemicals. He's watching her to make sure she's okay with them, because that's important too.

But she checks out, and he's pleased, if quietly, reservedly, the way that only the truly exhausted can be - wholeheartedly and nothing physical to represent it anyway. He stays by the door a little while as she starts to change - somehow dressing for ... whatever reasons these are - it's different than normal. He just feels like giving her space. (Or maybe that's the thing, the space, and it's not the dressing at all that bothers him.) He doesn't know how close he can be with her right now, doesn't know how close she can be with him, now that neither of them is in crisis and both of them are still on the ledge of it and he means all of this in both directions, how well each of them can legitimately tolerate the other. He knows, he does, that for all of his grounding and physicality, that he is a very emotional person, it's simply that his emotions run deep into underground caverns and pool there, still and calm until something cuts him close enough to the core to puncture whatever field is holding them in place and they come out everywhere, sudden and in force and drenching anyone unfortunate enough to be near. ]

I'm fine. Tired. Room's a little easier to handle than the roof.

[ It might be a little ridiculous, but she's okay with him being overprotective right now. She feels fairly similarly about him, and the way she feels if someone did hurt her she'd rather he dealt with her.

She should probably take a shower right now too, but for the moment it's easier to just clean herself off some with a damp towel before buttoning things up and looking around again, double checking that she knows where he is before she sits down on the bed, still watching him. He said he was going to be mad at her later, but she's not sure if this is the later or if they both should just sleep for a while and then they can be mad, or - what. Everything's a little fuzzy right now. Maybe they should just sleep. She holds her hand out a little, nods at the bed. ]

That's good. You should come rest, probably. If we both sleep for a little bit it might help.

[ It might. She's not entirely sure here of what the best path is, just knows that whatever it is she wants to be able to help him through it and she's not going to be able to do that without some rest, a little longer to patch things up in her head. This whole situation sucks, but they'll come out the other side all right, won't they? She has to believe that. ]

[ He probably isn't going to be that mad. He's going to remember she did it in case there's ever a next time, and then he'll insist, but the moment of his madness has passed and settled into exhaustion and relief and Tony isn't really the kind of person who goes dragging old things up again unless they really hurt him, and she didn't. Worried him, certainly, a lot, but she didn't do it intentionally or anything of the sort.

For a couple of moments, he glances between her and the bed, apparently weighing the odds and determining factors. The process cuts out halfway through though, and he just shuffles forward to take her hand. They're usually better together - he doesn't see why now should be any different. They've been apart long enough, recently, and it never seems to go very well. ]

[ Max has been known to hold grudges for far longer than a grudge should actually be held, so when she's told that someone's going to be mad at her later she tends to believe it, even if she knows she maybe shouldn't. But right now she's not ready for anything of the sort, and she doesn't think he is either. She'd rather just sleep, apologize whenever they wake up in something that will probably pass well enough for the morning. She'd rather just have him close.

They are better together. It's one of the few things that she knows for certain, of late, and she thinks it still holds now. She holds onto his hand carefully, lightly, trying to make sure she's not pushing any sensitivities, and just looks up at him for a long moment, searching his face as if between that and his hand in hers she can be absolutely certain he's here. ] Thank you for coming to find me.

[ He holds her gaze for most of that, drops it to look at their hands just before she's finished. The words are more or less redundant, in his opinion. He didn't have anything else to do, didn't have anything else he would have considered doing without having gone to find her first. He holds her hand a little tighter than she his, because it's okay, even if he isn't all better yet, he wants the tangible proof too. And he's still a little quiet, because her words were redundant and so he's working out something in return. Redundant, but not unnecessary, if only to have said them - he gets that.

But first, he moves their hands up to his shoulder, bringing her closer in the process, leaves hers there as he lets his hand fall to join the other in the hug it initiated by tugging her towards him. Arms around her, under her arms, he holds her close but not too tight, just securely, rests his chin on her shoulder a little, like you do. ] Thank you for getting us out.

[ She doesn't quite think they're redundant, but then nobody has come for her in a while. It's good, to know that he will, and even knowing it doesn't mean that it doesn't surprise her a little bit. Trusting him comes easily, but believing in promises is always hard for her. The two things war against each other.

But that's good, that's really nice. She rests her face against his shoulder, wraps her arms around him in turn, firm and secure if not as tight as she maybe would if he weren't sensitive. ] Well, you got us out last time. [ Breathing in the smell of Tony, the reassuring warmth of his body. God, she's so far gone when it comes to him, and that should bother her but she's just relaxing into his embrace. ] We're going to be fine. [ And this time she believes it herself. ]

[ Of course he will. He always will. He doesn't have any other choice, no matter what the matter or the situation or the circumstance happen to be.

He doesn't mind a bit of hugging foe dear life right now. It might be a little scratchy, a little burny, a little uncomfortable, but he can stand it. Wants to stand it, if it means that they both get the piece of mind that comes with absolute certainty that the other is there. Right here, right now, and not going anywhere else again. He loves being near her, and he nods his head in agreement to her words, just as he remembers that they're both exhausted. So, suddenly, he drops one arm and leans down, picks her up under the arms and knees and then sets her on the bed even as he lies down next to her. ] I think you said something about lying down anyway. Took the initiative.

[ She doesn't know how she feels about him feeling he has no other choice, but at the same time the thought that someone will always come for her is comforting. She could hold back an ocean with that knowledge, she thinks. Or metaphorically, anyways.

There's a soft noise of surprise at his move, but she relaxes a moment later, turns into him as he lies next to her and presses up against him as much as she can, one hand fisting into his shirt a little. There's a long moment before she says anything again, and when she does it's quiet but rough. ] I'm sorry.

[ She can do that. He totally believes she could do that if she put her mind to it.

And she can do that too, the closeness and the holding onto him, it makes it easier to wrap his arms around her and hold her there anyway. The statement is confusing though. ] For what?

[ She thinks with him backing her up - yeah maybe she could. He makes her feel like she could do anything, most of the time.

But that's good. She's glad he's holding on, because it means that she can hold on as tightly as he is to her without worrying that it will bother him. There's a long pause after that question, because she's not really sorry for what she's apologizing for. That they'd gotten taken in the first place, that she hadn't been able to stop them from hurting him, that she argued with him. ] I don't know. Everything.

[ She really doesn't need to worry about anything bothering him right now - even if it did, it wouldn't be so bad as to mean that he would tell her to stop. It's probably a good idea to still avoid areas she already knows are sensitive, but holding onto him isn't likely to trigger any of those to any great extent.

There's a moment before he replies, but it's not a particularly long one. ] Don't do that.

[ She thinks that the comfort of having each other near overweighs the discomfort of the senses, to a certain extent. Enough that she's still careful about how much pressure she puts on him but is reckless enough to hold on, to bury her face into his shoulder, try to hide the way her hands are shaking by curling them into the fabric of his clothes. She's so angry and so tired and it's too much vulnerability, she doesn't want to feel like this and she doesn't want anyone to see it. ]

Too late. Already did. [ Almost like a joke, except for how her voice is quiet and raspy and tightly controlled to keep from cracking. ]

[ It totally outweighs it, almost entirely, to the point where he doesn't care if she's holding herself back or not. He can overcome the physical, he's done it before. It's the emotional that he can't handle without her, and her being close to him means that she's here and he isn't without her. Problem solved.

But he can tell that she's tired and vulnerable and overstretched and angry and everything, and he's not sure what to do about it except project a calm to cover his anxieties, a peace to drown out his adrenaline and exhaustion, his aches and more sharp pains. ] Well you'd better take it back. [ Similarly worded, although not as tight as hers is, because feels like the both of them sounding like that will wind up in turn breaking them both, so by default one of them needs to be strong right now. Needs to be normal. Tony Stark's never been good at being normal, but he's got lots of experience within his formative years and onwards of faking so. ]

[ She's hypersensitive to his emotions right now, and that attempt to cover them up and make them more palatable to her, and she's not sure if she appreciates that or if it's only fueling her anger at herself and her apparently inability to take care of him.

She had one job. She clings a little tighter, shakes her head back and forth. ] No. [ And that's it. She's not taking it back because she is sorry. For not getting him out sooner. For the roof. For fighting with him, for him having seen her kill, for not being able to help them. ]

[ Well that wasn't the way she was supposed to take it at all.

Normally right now he'd like to pull back a little, look at her properly, because there's a thing here he's not getting, and he doesn't like not getting things. But she's all but tucked into him by this point, curled into his chest and his shirt and so close, and he doesn't want to push her back for reasons both selfish and less so. ]

You're not my bodyguard. [ He's not... angry. Yet, but it's a reminder anyway. She's not actually responsible for his well-being, the way technically he isn't for hers. He still feels like it, and he gets that she does too, but still. ]

[ She's totally not going to move back so he can see her better, in part because she's pretty sure she's blinking back tears and she can't actually remember the last time she cried and she doesn't want him to see that. The most frustrating part is that she can't actually figure out for herself why this matters so much more than anything else. ]

I know. [ Quiet, almost managing to steady it. ] Yeah. I know. Just go to sleep. [ That's the best thing, right? Some sleep will make things seem a little clearer. ]

[ He's just going to hold her a little tighter, shift around her a little more because he is a little bigger and she seems like she needs it, maybe. He definitely does, so if she protests then he'll back off again but the reason he did it was totally self-motivated. Also he doesn't really want to just drop it, but he's not sure what he can do about it anyway. Generally just acting is his thing, but he's exhausted and she's exhausted and he doesn't feel like getting it wrong and then having to fix it. Too much work right now, and there's just really too much over-thinking to be done before he gets there.

So he just asks this time. ] Are you gonna be okay?

[ She can't tell if that's good or bad, really, right now, him closer around her. She thinks it's good, but part of her is thinking that she can't get out and that's always - fun. There's still comfort in it though, enough that she doesn't try to protest, just hides herself in him as well as she can.

There's a pause, because she tries to be honest with him but she doesn't think he's going to like her answer and she doesn't like it or want to give it. ] I don't know. [ Holding on a little tighter, because she needs him to not pull away right now. ] Eventually.

[ Well he's not trying to make her feel trapped - he's trying to make her feel safe. Maybe he's over-doing it, but then she holds him tighter, implies she doesn't want him to back away, and he guesses that maybe he's okay here with her like this. He's not that pleased with her answer, no, but he can accept it, because it's similar enough to his own to not be something he can conscientiously object to. ] Okay. [ And he's going to try and settle into the pillow and rest, secure with her safe in his arms. ]

[ It's a weird balance. Any containment is enough to make her feel a little trapped right now, but she also wants him close, wants his arms around her because the closer he is the better, the more sheltered she feels. And the more trapped. Him being close outweighs it, though. She takes a deep breath in and out at his agreement, nods. ] Yeah. [ That'll work. When she wakes up it will be better.

That's wishful thinking and she knows it. ]

Edited (that's the wrong icon) 2013-07-05 21:43 (UTC)

ic contact

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject