She can't help listening. There's rage, but it's banked, and it's false. She knows that, too. Like a mask she can cloak herself in, it covers everything beneath it. A gaping crack that she cannot see to the bottom and does not want to. It will only serve to do worse to the future. Like all of this. And, still, she can't help listening. About his mother, and his sister, the past he rarely talked of, for whatever reason he felt compelled to tell her now.
Except whatever isn't right, but she can't look at that, or him, or Merlin. Even if she knows she should.
She should tell him a lot of things. Maybe starting with the one where he picked wrong. Where things do not go well with those who pick her. Because she shouldn't be. Picked. The last one lay deep in the ocean, before burned to ashes.
Her head washed her this way and that, like the roll of the ocean under the boat she never stepped on, and the scent of once-upon-a-different-universe ocean salt on the rim of the hat she refused to clean. Or let anyone touch. Or had ever even explained to anyone. Nor spoken Jack's name once here yet. It did her no good to dwell, and she'd thought only Gabriel could rouse him to her thoughts.
But, this, too.
This, too.
Jo cringed a little as he threw up again, the blanket shuddering as he tried to hide, making her feel even less like she should be there, forcing him to handle more in his space than there had to be. She folded the worst into the middle of the towels, as she pushed up, "You should rest some more, Thorfinn. It looks like you're going to need it."
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Date: 2016-12-03 05:43 am (UTC)Except whatever isn't right, but she can't look at that, or him, or Merlin. Even if she knows she should.
She should tell him a lot of things. Maybe starting with the one where he picked wrong.
Where things do not go well with those who pick her. Because she shouldn't be.
Picked. The last one lay deep in the ocean, before burned to ashes.
Her head washed her this way and that, like the roll of the ocean under the boat she never stepped on, and the scent of once-upon-a-different-universe ocean salt on the rim of the hat she refused to clean. Or let anyone touch. Or had ever even explained to anyone. Nor spoken Jack's name once here yet. It did her no good to dwell, and she'd thought only Gabriel could rouse him to her thoughts.
But, this, too.
This, too.
Jo cringed a little as he threw up again, the blanket shuddering as he tried to hide, making her feel even less like she should be there, forcing him to handle more in his space than there had to be. She folded the worst into the middle of the towels, as she pushed up, "You should rest some more, Thorfinn. It looks like you're going to need it."