[ why does it have to be one or the other? who’s to say she was involved at all? the bruises could be from anything. but eggsy’s looking at her like it matters, and dutch finds that she doesn’t want to lie to him. ]
Or.
[ that’s all he gets before she reaches for the tumblers and pours them both a generous amount. only after does she ask: ] You?
[ he makes a noncommittal noise, but can't stop the way his frown sharpers or the wrinkle of his forehead, telling of his concern. his left hand twitches as he considers reaching out to her, but he stops himself yet again and goes for the tumbler instead. his ability to drink straight whiskey has improved in all this, if nothing else. ]
Rescue. [ he lifts his injured arm. ] Botched it a bit.
[ smart boy. dutch isn’t sure yet how she feels about the admission — or about seeing him hurt, but she can shut off the parts of herself that feel concern. she’s not so good with her own fallibility, her own vulnerability. khlyen didn’t train her to be soft.
she downs the contents of her own tumbler and refills it before setting it down for a moment to reach for his arm instead, taking it (gently, fortunately) and turning it as though studying the underside of the bandage will tell her anything. ]
What did you do? [ the “idiot” at the end of that sentence is implied. ]
[ she takes his hand, and he can't help but feel a bit flustered. they don't really do intimate contact that isn't sex or foreplay. at least her tone quickly brings him back to reality.
after a moment, he looks away. ]
Had a run in with some airborne chemicals that reacted to heat. Figured out there was something up when none of our assailants were shooting at us, but I decided to fire off a few rounds anyway. And then a few more, so I could get as much out of it as possible. [ that's the stupid part. ] My custom pistol is a melted piece of shit, and my arm only just stopped smarting.
[ this isn’t intimacy. this isn’t her holding his hand. this is her checking him for injuries, testing his range of motions — except she’s not doing that, is she?
she’s not. instead, she’s seeing johnny die all over again like he had in the hallucination before her inner eye. he’s not dead. he’s in stasis. eggsy’s not johnny and eggsy’s fine, too. more or less. ]
[ he doesn't pull his hand away or lace his fingers through hers, like his instincts suggest. he simply lets her hold it, deferring to dutch on the nature of their relationship (as ever). ]
So I've heard. [ said in acknowledgment, not a hint of cheek to be found. ] I had someone who would've torn me a new arsehole over it, too, and 'cause he ain't awake, I'm imagining everything he might've said to me myself.
[ he thought of harry in the first days, when he'd accidentally reach for the coffee pot with the wrong hand. and when he'd awaken to pain in the night, only to wander into the empty kitchen where he once could find his mentor, pouring over notes.
the imagined arguments are worse than it would have been. he knows that, but it's hard to feel it. ]
[ dutch could let go. she doesn’t. she’s not great at sympathy, but for a moment, she squeezes his palm. then she keeps holding on while she reaches for her drink again.
it takes some of the edge off, at least. ]
I saw my best friend die. [ she shrugs, like it doesn’t matter. like she isn’t still reeling. if johnny was awake, this wouldn’t be so bad. ] Hallucinated it. [ a beat. there’s a point; she’s not just sharing for the sake of it. ] Reality’s not as bad as that, sometimes.
[ she won’t say she’s only calling him stupid because she gives a shit, but — if it’s true for dutch, it’s got to be true for whoever he’s thinking of. ]
[ he doesn't look at her, but he gives into the urge to clasp her hand more firmly. dutch goes on to mention her best friend, and he feels glad for pre-empting that confession. no, reality isn't as bad, indeed.
if he had seen roxy die, even in a hallucination, he would be inconsolable. when she returned to stasis, he drank himself into a stupor and had to be rescued from himself by bellamy. that is to say — it means something for dutch to share that information with him. ]
Yeah. [ she might be right about that. ] That fucking sucks. [ in lieu of offering an i'm sorry. ] You check on him in stasis?
[ when johnny had gone back into stasis, she’d drunk herself into a stupor, fucked anyone who’d let her (including eggsy, not that she’s told him that was what that had been about) and fought too much.
he’s still there. in stasis. alive but unmoving.
she doesn’t want eggsy’s pity, but she doesn’t draw her hand away either. ]
[ he nods. it must only be a small comfort, after what she saw. ]
My best mate's under, too. She went back a few months ago.
[ so he understands, as much as anyone can, with all their diverging relationships. he uses his free hand to down his glass, face scrunching up after. still not a pro whiskey drinker, it seems. ]
Mh. [ dutch hums, non-comittally. it's that or say something along the lines of and why should i care? — it's the reaction khlyen would expect of her. she shouldn't care, at least not if khlyen has any say about it. he doesn't, of course. she ran away from him for a reason. she chose freedom and johnny over a life of killing for khlyen. over a life without a heart and a soul.
but it's hard remembering that when johnny's gone.
still, eggsy's hand is warm against hers and it's a comfort and maybe, maybe she's just tired. maybe she's tired of fighting herself all the time. she empties the rest of her drink. ]
You're a wimp. [ she says. about the scrunched-up face, not his best mate's being under. and then she tips her body to the side a little until she's leaning against his shoulder. not quite his arm, she's mindful enough of that. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Or.
[ that’s all he gets before she reaches for the tumblers and pours them both a generous amount. only after does she ask: ] You?
no subject
Rescue. [ he lifts his injured arm. ] Botched it a bit.
no subject
she downs the contents of her own tumbler and refills it before setting it down for a moment to reach for his arm instead, taking it (gently, fortunately) and turning it as though studying the underside of the bandage will tell her anything. ]
What did you do? [ the “idiot” at the end of that sentence is implied. ]
no subject
after a moment, he looks away. ]
Had a run in with some airborne chemicals that reacted to heat. Figured out there was something up when none of our assailants were shooting at us, but I decided to fire off a few rounds anyway. And then a few more, so I could get as much out of it as possible. [ that's the stupid part. ] My custom pistol is a melted piece of shit, and my arm only just stopped smarting.
[ and it still stings when he moves suddenly. ]
no subject
she’s not. instead, she’s seeing johnny die all over again like he had in the hallucination before her inner eye. he’s not dead. he’s in stasis. eggsy’s not johnny and eggsy’s fine, too. more or less. ]
Stupid.
no subject
So I've heard. [ said in acknowledgment, not a hint of cheek to be found. ] I had someone who would've torn me a new arsehole over it, too, and 'cause he ain't awake, I'm imagining everything he might've said to me myself.
[ he thought of harry in the first days, when he'd accidentally reach for the coffee pot with the wrong hand. and when he'd awaken to pain in the night, only to wander into the empty kitchen where he once could find his mentor, pouring over notes.
the imagined arguments are worse than it would have been. he knows that, but it's hard to feel it. ]
no subject
it takes some of the edge off, at least. ]
I saw my best friend die. [ she shrugs, like it doesn’t matter. like she isn’t still reeling. if johnny was awake, this wouldn’t be so bad. ] Hallucinated it. [ a beat. there’s a point; she’s not just sharing for the sake of it. ] Reality’s not as bad as that, sometimes.
[ she won’t say she’s only calling him stupid because she gives a shit, but — if it’s true for dutch, it’s got to be true for whoever he’s thinking of. ]
no subject
if he had seen roxy die, even in a hallucination, he would be inconsolable. when she returned to stasis, he drank himself into a stupor and had to be rescued from himself by bellamy. that is to say — it means something for dutch to share that information with him. ]
Yeah. [ she might be right about that. ] That fucking sucks. [ in lieu of offering an i'm sorry. ] You check on him in stasis?
[ of course she did. ]
no subject
he’s still there. in stasis. alive but unmoving.
she doesn’t want eggsy’s pity, but she doesn’t draw her hand away either. ]
He’s still there.
no subject
My best mate's under, too. She went back a few months ago.
[ so he understands, as much as anyone can, with all their diverging relationships. he uses his free hand to down his glass, face scrunching up after. still not a pro whiskey drinker, it seems. ]
no subject
but it's hard remembering that when johnny's gone.
still, eggsy's hand is warm against hers and it's a comfort and maybe, maybe she's just tired. maybe she's tired of fighting herself all the time. she empties the rest of her drink. ]
You're a wimp. [ she says. about the scrunched-up face, not his best mate's being under. and then she tips her body to the side a little until she's leaning against his shoulder. not quite his arm, she's mindful enough of that. ]