[ Outside the walls. His head tips to the side and he studies the red line on the map. Thinks about it again, living in a world split so cleanly into before and after. Knowing only the after. ]
Hard to imagine you as a calming influence. [ It isn't, though. He'd come home and she'd read what he'd been through on his face, in the set of his shoulders. Would know whether to reach for the bandages or his hand.
And the conversations they'd have into the night. ] When'd you learn her name?
[ Tess gives a sharp little breath out, somewhere between amusement and exhaustion. Not the first time she's heard that, but also not something she believes about herself, either. It's just something kept behind a different kind of wall. ]
Compared to Joel, yeah, sometimes.
[He knows Joel's name, but she regrets saying it anyway. Should just be partner, both indifferent and hierarchical at once. She pushes back an ugly thought and takes the Firefly map up.]
I already knew her name when we got this. We picked this up off a bunch of dead Fireflies; they were supposed to meet us at the Capitol building for the handoff. [ A beat; he'd know it by another name, maybe. ] The Massachusetts State House.
[ He looks up for whatever's left of her expression. What he notices is the forms he takes, how he flows through her talk: Joel past and present tense, partner and proper name. The two of them as a balancing act. ] Never been. [ A smile plays at the corners of his mouth. Doesn't quite take hold. ]
[ Her expression is tight, attempting to be distant about it. Turns out a decade together –– or not together –– doesn't just vanish overnight like it's supposed to.]
I'd been once before, on a field trip.
[ Old presidents had been there, too. Paul fucking Revere did the dome on top, some approximation of a contractor turned American hero. And if she wasn't brought to the Barge, her body would have rotted on the floor, remembered by no one. ]
It was hard but I was happy with it. Even when I realized I was done for, I still thought... as far as last days go, I could say I was at the top of my game. All the pieces fell into place. It was worth it.
No, I mean... [ He ducks his head, hair scattering into his eyes. Brushing up against that other self. A fractional hesitation and he puts out his hand, palm up. Matter of fact. If she takes it—she won't take it—it'll be rough, shaped around the handle of his knife.
He keeps going: ] The weather. How you felt that morning. When did it happen? When did you know, what was the first thing you—your first regret?
[ She watches him with the ghost of a frown; it feels strange, wrapping her head around the thoughts of this person she knows and yet doesn't, and though she impulsively lifts a hand to meet his, she can't. Her hand hovers and then falls. Tess shoves those feelings down like she's clamping the lid down on a boiling pot. If he wants an answer, he can have that instead.]
It was early summer. I woke up alone, and I was used to that, but I hated it anyway. [ No last night with Joel to speak of.] And the next morning, when I still hadn't slept and it had stormed overnight, I felt like I was on top of the world. But when we were cutting through a museum because the road was blocked, the roof collapsed and Ellie and I got split from Joel.
[ She pauses to tense her jaw for an instant, to tamp down some impulse to get upset about it, but she knows it's behind her eyes anyway.]
A Runner got me. I got it off and away before he caught up with me, but... I saw him, and I knew I had to keep it from him to finish the job. I regretted that.
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Hard to imagine you as a calming influence. [ It isn't, though. He'd come home and she'd read what he'd been through on his face, in the set of his shoulders. Would know whether to reach for the bandages or his hand.
And the conversations they'd have into the night. ] When'd you learn her name?
no subject
Compared to Joel, yeah, sometimes.
[He knows Joel's name, but she regrets saying it anyway. Should just be partner, both indifferent and hierarchical at once. She pushes back an ugly thought and takes the Firefly map up.]
I already knew her name when we got this. We picked this up off a bunch of dead Fireflies; they were supposed to meet us at the Capitol building for the handoff. [ A beat; he'd know it by another name, maybe. ] The Massachusetts State House.
no subject
What was it like, that day?
no subject
I'd been once before, on a field trip.
[ Old presidents had been there, too. Paul fucking Revere did the dome on top, some approximation of a contractor turned American hero. And if she wasn't brought to the Barge, her body would have rotted on the floor, remembered by no one. ]
It was hard but I was happy with it. Even when I realized I was done for, I still thought... as far as last days go, I could say I was at the top of my game. All the pieces fell into place. It was worth it.
no subject
He keeps going: ] The weather. How you felt that morning. When did it happen? When did you know, what was the first thing you—your first regret?
no subject
It was early summer. I woke up alone, and I was used to that, but I hated it anyway. [ No last night with Joel to speak of.] And the next morning, when I still hadn't slept and it had stormed overnight, I felt like I was on top of the world. But when we were cutting through a museum because the road was blocked, the roof collapsed and Ellie and I got split from Joel.
[ She pauses to tense her jaw for an instant, to tamp down some impulse to get upset about it, but she knows it's behind her eyes anyway.]
A Runner got me. I got it off and away before he caught up with me, but... I saw him, and I knew I had to keep it from him to finish the job. I regretted that.