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rainbowfic2013-07-27 07:41 pm
auguris) wrote in rainbowfic2013-07-27 07:41 pm
Summertime Blues 4, Transparent 2, Dove Grey 30
Name: auguris
'verse: After The World
Story: When I Have Time
Colors: Summertime Blues 4. Stared at by the book you've been meaning to read.; Transparent 2. Breath ; Dove Grey 30. The pain passes, but the beauty remains.
Supplies and Styles: Glitter: Heat
Word Count: 2600
Rating: R (language, gore)
Warnings: Gore, violence, death.
Summary/Notes: Jeans gains and nearly loses a family, and at the end of it all finally has time to read her damn book. For my Lint Roller, prompt provided bythelinesoflearning: "Jean Wright, where do you go and/or what do you do when you want to be alone?"
Jean eased into the window seat, setting her bag within reach. Max slept in the next room. Two scraggly humans were too small a target to bother with, but she'd left both doors open in case.
She cracked open The Rose Lattice, touching the hand writing on the inside cover. To Jean With Love, Dana. For everything that had happened between them, the book had been one of the few non-essentials Jean grabbed from what was left of her apartment. She didn't like to delve too deeply into that; Dana was likely as dead as everyone else she'd ever known.
On page three, just as the sultry brunette was pouting at the leggy blonde, Max strode into the room. "Hey, there you are."
Jean dropped the book. "What happened?"
"What? Nothing, just... didn't know where you were. What time is it?"
Glancing out the window, Jean guessed, "daytime." What with the sun being up and all.
"Oh ha ha." Max settled on the edge of the bed, frowning at Jean's expression. "What, sorry, was I interrupting your reading time or something? Sorry for wanting to be in the same space as the only other living human being within a five mile radius, Christ."
Jean's eyebrows shot up. "Let me know when you're done with your second puberty. Sounds like the other ball hasn't dropped yet." Max rolled his eyes so hard most of his head went into the motion. "You didn't sleep last night."
Max shrugged. "Couldn't. I still can't. Too... too much adrenaline."
Jean picked up her .45. "Would it help if I stood guard?"
"Um. Yes?" Max rubbed the back of his neck. "I swear to god I'm a grown up person."
Jean snorted. "Just go to sleep. I'm not going anywhere." She slipped the book back into her bag. Leggy blonde would have to wait.
*
Jean wrapped the towel around herself and her soggy underwear, unwilling to sit in the complete nude. Max had promised to keep his eyes closed and he was a doctor anyway so what did it matter, Isabel had already seen it, and Evelyn was young enough to be more embarrassed than all of them combined -- but Jean didn't want to strip down, damnit, and they could leave her the fuck alone about it now.
Max and Isabel argued over the wisdom of building a fire in the basement while Evelyn searched through the house for supplies. Jean should have been helping her -- or sending one of the adult children to help her so Jean could build the damn fire -- but her hands wouldn't stop shaking. Cyborgs didn't generate any more heat than regular people, apparently.
Rain leaked in through an old broken window, the tape too old to keep the water out. Lightning crashed overhead, breaking the monotony of relentless rain. Evelyn shrieked and Max bound up the stairs; Isabel grinned at Jean and flicked her lighter on, setting the little camp fire before Max could come back and start up again.
Jean blinked in the sudden brightness; she must have dozed, as the fire crackled vibrantly and the four of them sat together, Evelyn chattering about the last thunderstorm she'd been in. Jean lifted her head from Isabel's shoulder, conjuring a smile when Isabel kissed her cheek. "I set out your things," she murmured, rubbing Jean's back. "Most of it was salvageable."
Jean only nodded. The remaining contents of her pack lay out like a pauper's museum of what her life had become. Several maps -- most of them plastic, thankfully -- one compass, one broken compass, a half-eaten chocolate bar which was probably still good (and respectfully not grabbed up by one of the others), sewing kit she was still not very good with, flashlight, batteries, and The Rose Lattice, spine bent and back cover torn.
"I had you figured for the adventure stories," Isabel said, picking up the book. "But this is clearly a flowery romance novel about white ladies."
"No," Jean said, "one of them's Hispanic."
Isabel's shoulders shook. "So it's about us?"
Jean grinned into her hand. Ironic, considering who'd given it to her.
*
"I'm bored," Evelyn announced, standing at the entrance to Jean and Isabel's temporary bedroom. Jean let her arm drop, hoping Evelyn didn't realize she'd been trying to see through her own skin.
"And that's my problem?"
Evelyn dug her toe into the hardwood, a trick she pulled when she was trying to be cute. It worked half the time, too. "Maybe?"
Jean sat up, casting about the room for an answer. "I don't have any of that space ship stuff you like to read and I can't make the electricity just up and work, kid."
"I'll read anything," Evelyn insisted. "I'll read a coloring book."
Snorting, Jean grabbed her bag and dug through it. Her chest tightened as she dumped her bag out on the bed, proving that her eyes weren't going bad -- the book was gone.
"Damnit," Jean muttered, her belongings scattering as she stood up. Evelyn moved out of the way, voice small as she asked what was wrong.
Two years, two fucking years she'd held onto it, she'd lost a gun and still had the damn book and it wasn't like there was a hole in her bag so someone had done something to it or maybe it had fallen out that time her bag fell over -- shit, yeah, they'd been in a hurry, blues down the hill and they had to run a circuit to keep their small camp hidden, it was probably up there in the grass somewhere, maybe she could--
Isabel looked up as Jean stomped down the stairs, The Rose Lattice in her hands. "What's up?"
Jean stopped short, wasted adrenaline shooting through her. "Oh. You have it."
"I do! Sorry, I should have said something." She waved it at Jean. "You know, it's kind of terrible."
Shrugging, Jean said, "I haven't even finished the damn thing."
*
Jean slammed into the brick, the old mortar crumbling. She fell to her knees as the blast vaporized the wall, dust raining down on her. The blue-eyed bastard lowered his giant-ass rifle and tracked her as she ran, following her heat signature through the building.
Faster than her group but not faster than the blues, Jean felt herself creaking under the weight of exhaustion. They were after her in earnest this time, mistaking her for a tracker or out of real targets or maybe just bored. Max and the others were nowhere to be found, she'd heard no screams or gunshots; at least her efforts had given them time to get away. She could die like that.
She finally found the damn exit and made it two steps before flying off her feet, the rifle blast leaving a crater in the concrete not inches from where she lay. She picked herself up slow, too slow, and then familiar hands were on her and Isabel pulled her up and away, towards an alley and Max was there waiting and her heart rose. Isabel made a noise and pushed Jean down the alley, Max's eyes went wide, the whole world slowed as Jean turned, grabbing for Isabel and finding nothing but air.
Something horrible splattered against her, red and wet and coppery in her mouth.
ShitshitholyshitcmonJeanCMONRUN
Gunshots. Max pulled her along, yanking when she slowed. Safe space, he said. Evelyn, he said. Move, he said.
He stopped and pushed her back, a blue stood in their way, maybe the same one they all looked alike who the fuck knew, rifle up and ready and Jean shoved Max down, one step, two steps, leap and she tackled the cyborg piece of shit and wrapped her body around his, pounding her fists in his face, twisting around until she had her arms around his neck and twist and snap and she wrenched his motherfucking head clean off, tossing it aside.
Max approached her, eyes wide, hand out like he was calming a rabid dog. His mouth moved but she only shook her head; she couldn't hear, something in her brain broke, something shut down, something died.
oh sweet christ
She followed Max through the silent broken streets, massacred concrete and scoured store fronts. He brought her through a door-less doorway, past a dark and empty bar, down creaking wooden steps. Evelyn stood up, smile disappearing under her hands. She moved her mouth. Max leaned down so their eyes were level, hand on her shoulder.
Jean sank to her knees. From far away, the other end of a tunnel maybe, Evelyn said her name, ran a washcloth over her face, under her chin. Why, Jean thought.
You're covered in blood, Evelyn said.
She stared at her hands for a long time. Useless. Nothing but air.
Jean, Max said. He held Isabel's pack. Faded green, torn in places, clasp broken. Do you want to, he said. She pulled it to her lap, folded the top open. Her hand immediately fell upon The Rose Lattice, bright red roses on what was left of a once white now gray and torn cover.
And that was just so fucking funny, wasn't it, her dead girlfriend's present in her other dead girlfriend's pack, just the funniest fucking thing so of course she laughed, long and hard and for some stupid reason she started crying, huge heaping wails and she couldn't control herself damnit they didn't need to see this Eve was still just a kid she needed Jean to be strong and two sets of arms wrapped around her and she just couldn't fucking stop because Isabel was gone.
*
The eave cast a too-small shadow that Jean couldn't manage to squeeze herself under. "Wonder if I can have a fan installed," she muttered.
"Technically you do," Max said, fiddling with the lock. It would have been easier to just smash the door open, but there was no telling if the little town was safe or not. "Humans sweat to cool off."
"If that was good enough," Jean said, "we wouldn't have invented the air conditioner."
Evelyn groaned. Sixteen and surly, Jean was pretty sure everything annoyed her nowadays. "It's not that hot."
"You have melanin, kid. I'm practically see-through."
"We all have melanin -- ha!" Max grinned as he pulled the door open. "And we didn't even have to break anything."
"That's no fun," Jean said, following him inside. "Hold up."
Despite the locked door, the pharmacy had been cleared out - probably years ago. Empty shelves, broken overturned cash registers like little mechanical corpses strewn about.
"Maybe there's something in the back," Evelyn said, tromping past the both of them. "That's where they keep the good stuff, right?"
"Wait," Max said. Evelyn ducked away from him. "The door was locked but the place is empty, Eve, think about it--"
"We're all armed, what does it matter? Stop trying to be my dad." She hopped over the back counter, peering in through the glass that showed off the back room. "I think there's some stuff back here!"
"Stuff," Max muttered. Jean followed behind, gun in hand. "Eve, forget it, we're leaving." Max made it to the counter as the back door opened. The woman grabbed Evelyn, raising her knife. Evelyn blocked the strike, giving Max time to fire. The woman screamed and staggered away, clutching at the hole in her cheek. Evelyn scrambled back; Jean grabbed her and tugged her towards the exit, Max leading the way.
She slammed the front door shut, the glass shattering. Max took Evelyn by the shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah yeah I'm fine I--"
The shotgun blast was nearly deafening; Jean whirled and fired twice, putting two new ventilation holes in the shooter's head. Evelyn shrieked as Max crumpled to the ground. "Watch the door," Jean said, kneeling beside her comrade. Max stared up at her, pain tearing at his eyes. His chest lay open, torn apart like raw hamburger and Jean felt her own chest tighten as he reached for her.
Jean got her arms under him and hauled him up in a princess carry. He'd appreciate the joke later. "We have to go."
"They might have supplies--"
"There might be more of them. We need to get back to the others. Nathan can help. We need to run." Jean took off, trusting Evelyn to watch her back. Max latched onto her collar, his hot breath shuddering down her neck.
"Jean, when, when those army guys--"
"Save your breath," Jean said. "I'm pulling you out of this."
"I never apologized," Max said, voice shaking. "I never--"
"Shut up, asshole, I forgave you years ago."
Shouts rose up behind them, wordless wailing and "git back here!" Evelyn muttered a curse.
"Leave me," Max stuttered. "Slowing you down."
"You're not heavy," Jean said. "Stop talking."
They wove through overgrown backyards and the skeletons of abandoned homes, never quite catching sight of their pursuers. Evelyn waved Jean through the tunnel that marked the entrance to their little settlement. Jean rushed through to the other side, squinting in the sunlight, relief flowing through her. Abigail stood to greet them, concern washing over her face; Jean imagined telling her everything would be fine, it wasn't even that bad a wound and Nathan would fix him up in no time, and later after that Jean would tease Max that the real doctor had fixed him up, and then Max said in a voice so quiet Jean would spend years wondering if he'd actually spoken or if it was only in her head:
"I guess now you'll be able to finish your stupid book," and then he stopped breathing.
*
Jean cracked her eyes open to find Evelyn glaring down at her, arms crossed tight across her chest.
"We have rules," Evelyn said, voice nearly steady, "for a reason, Jean Wright."
Jean touched the bandage on her head. The bullet had glanced off her skull, giving her a nasty new scar and the scavenger enough time to get away. "Sorry."
"Sorry," Evelyn repeated, sarcasm thick enough to slice through. "You went out alone, at night, and didn't tell anyone. You know if I did that you'd have a fucking fit. But it's okay if cyborg Jean goes off because her robot parts make her immortal, except they fucking don't, do they?" Evelyn started to pace as she spoke. "Jean is so strong and so independent and so--"
"Stupid," Jean said, pushing herself up slow. The world stayed level. "And stubborn. Maybe a little psycho."
Evelyn dropped her arms, anger deflated. She dragged over Nathan's guest chair and sat heavily, eyes downcast. "You're my only family, you know."
"Likewise." Jean sighed. "I am sorry, Eve."
Evelyn shrugged with her whole body, wiping at her eyes. "Yeah I know you are. Nate said to stay here for a little while so he can keep an eye on you. So you're going to do that no matter how stir-crazy you get, got it?"
Jean turned up the corner of her mouth. "Got it."
Eve picked a stack of books up off the floor. "I grabbed these from your room. Figured they'd keep you occupied."
Jean lay them out on the bed, spreading her fingers across them. She laughed as she picked up the oldest looking one, cover pretty much gone, the little written message gone with it; water stains and blood stains and who-knew-what-else stains on every torn page. Evelyn's eyebrows rose up and Jean said, "I've had this for nearly ten years, and I still haven't read it."
"Now's as good a time," Evelyn said, grabbing one of the others. "You ain't goin nowhere."
Jean settled back, gingerly opening the first battered page.
auguris'verse: After The World
Story: When I Have Time
Colors: Summertime Blues 4. Stared at by the book you've been meaning to read.; Transparent 2. Breath ; Dove Grey 30. The pain passes, but the beauty remains.
Supplies and Styles: Glitter: Heat
Word Count: 2600
Rating: R (language, gore)
Warnings: Gore, violence, death.
Summary/Notes: Jeans gains and nearly loses a family, and at the end of it all finally has time to read her damn book. For my Lint Roller, prompt provided by
thelinesoflearning: "Jean Wright, where do you go and/or what do you do when you want to be alone?"Jean eased into the window seat, setting her bag within reach. Max slept in the next room. Two scraggly humans were too small a target to bother with, but she'd left both doors open in case.
She cracked open The Rose Lattice, touching the hand writing on the inside cover. To Jean With Love, Dana. For everything that had happened between them, the book had been one of the few non-essentials Jean grabbed from what was left of her apartment. She didn't like to delve too deeply into that; Dana was likely as dead as everyone else she'd ever known.
On page three, just as the sultry brunette was pouting at the leggy blonde, Max strode into the room. "Hey, there you are."
Jean dropped the book. "What happened?"
"What? Nothing, just... didn't know where you were. What time is it?"
Glancing out the window, Jean guessed, "daytime." What with the sun being up and all.
"Oh ha ha." Max settled on the edge of the bed, frowning at Jean's expression. "What, sorry, was I interrupting your reading time or something? Sorry for wanting to be in the same space as the only other living human being within a five mile radius, Christ."
Jean's eyebrows shot up. "Let me know when you're done with your second puberty. Sounds like the other ball hasn't dropped yet." Max rolled his eyes so hard most of his head went into the motion. "You didn't sleep last night."
Max shrugged. "Couldn't. I still can't. Too... too much adrenaline."
Jean picked up her .45. "Would it help if I stood guard?"
"Um. Yes?" Max rubbed the back of his neck. "I swear to god I'm a grown up person."
Jean snorted. "Just go to sleep. I'm not going anywhere." She slipped the book back into her bag. Leggy blonde would have to wait.
*
Jean wrapped the towel around herself and her soggy underwear, unwilling to sit in the complete nude. Max had promised to keep his eyes closed and he was a doctor anyway so what did it matter, Isabel had already seen it, and Evelyn was young enough to be more embarrassed than all of them combined -- but Jean didn't want to strip down, damnit, and they could leave her the fuck alone about it now.
Max and Isabel argued over the wisdom of building a fire in the basement while Evelyn searched through the house for supplies. Jean should have been helping her -- or sending one of the adult children to help her so Jean could build the damn fire -- but her hands wouldn't stop shaking. Cyborgs didn't generate any more heat than regular people, apparently.
Rain leaked in through an old broken window, the tape too old to keep the water out. Lightning crashed overhead, breaking the monotony of relentless rain. Evelyn shrieked and Max bound up the stairs; Isabel grinned at Jean and flicked her lighter on, setting the little camp fire before Max could come back and start up again.
Jean blinked in the sudden brightness; she must have dozed, as the fire crackled vibrantly and the four of them sat together, Evelyn chattering about the last thunderstorm she'd been in. Jean lifted her head from Isabel's shoulder, conjuring a smile when Isabel kissed her cheek. "I set out your things," she murmured, rubbing Jean's back. "Most of it was salvageable."
Jean only nodded. The remaining contents of her pack lay out like a pauper's museum of what her life had become. Several maps -- most of them plastic, thankfully -- one compass, one broken compass, a half-eaten chocolate bar which was probably still good (and respectfully not grabbed up by one of the others), sewing kit she was still not very good with, flashlight, batteries, and The Rose Lattice, spine bent and back cover torn.
"I had you figured for the adventure stories," Isabel said, picking up the book. "But this is clearly a flowery romance novel about white ladies."
"No," Jean said, "one of them's Hispanic."
Isabel's shoulders shook. "So it's about us?"
Jean grinned into her hand. Ironic, considering who'd given it to her.
*
"I'm bored," Evelyn announced, standing at the entrance to Jean and Isabel's temporary bedroom. Jean let her arm drop, hoping Evelyn didn't realize she'd been trying to see through her own skin.
"And that's my problem?"
Evelyn dug her toe into the hardwood, a trick she pulled when she was trying to be cute. It worked half the time, too. "Maybe?"
Jean sat up, casting about the room for an answer. "I don't have any of that space ship stuff you like to read and I can't make the electricity just up and work, kid."
"I'll read anything," Evelyn insisted. "I'll read a coloring book."
Snorting, Jean grabbed her bag and dug through it. Her chest tightened as she dumped her bag out on the bed, proving that her eyes weren't going bad -- the book was gone.
"Damnit," Jean muttered, her belongings scattering as she stood up. Evelyn moved out of the way, voice small as she asked what was wrong.
Two years, two fucking years she'd held onto it, she'd lost a gun and still had the damn book and it wasn't like there was a hole in her bag so someone had done something to it or maybe it had fallen out that time her bag fell over -- shit, yeah, they'd been in a hurry, blues down the hill and they had to run a circuit to keep their small camp hidden, it was probably up there in the grass somewhere, maybe she could--
Isabel looked up as Jean stomped down the stairs, The Rose Lattice in her hands. "What's up?"
Jean stopped short, wasted adrenaline shooting through her. "Oh. You have it."
"I do! Sorry, I should have said something." She waved it at Jean. "You know, it's kind of terrible."
Shrugging, Jean said, "I haven't even finished the damn thing."
*
Jean slammed into the brick, the old mortar crumbling. She fell to her knees as the blast vaporized the wall, dust raining down on her. The blue-eyed bastard lowered his giant-ass rifle and tracked her as she ran, following her heat signature through the building.
Faster than her group but not faster than the blues, Jean felt herself creaking under the weight of exhaustion. They were after her in earnest this time, mistaking her for a tracker or out of real targets or maybe just bored. Max and the others were nowhere to be found, she'd heard no screams or gunshots; at least her efforts had given them time to get away. She could die like that.
She finally found the damn exit and made it two steps before flying off her feet, the rifle blast leaving a crater in the concrete not inches from where she lay. She picked herself up slow, too slow, and then familiar hands were on her and Isabel pulled her up and away, towards an alley and Max was there waiting and her heart rose. Isabel made a noise and pushed Jean down the alley, Max's eyes went wide, the whole world slowed as Jean turned, grabbing for Isabel and finding nothing but air.
Something horrible splattered against her, red and wet and coppery in her mouth.
ShitshitholyshitcmonJeanCMONRUN
Gunshots. Max pulled her along, yanking when she slowed. Safe space, he said. Evelyn, he said. Move, he said.
He stopped and pushed her back, a blue stood in their way, maybe the same one they all looked alike who the fuck knew, rifle up and ready and Jean shoved Max down, one step, two steps, leap and she tackled the cyborg piece of shit and wrapped her body around his, pounding her fists in his face, twisting around until she had her arms around his neck and twist and snap and she wrenched his motherfucking head clean off, tossing it aside.
Max approached her, eyes wide, hand out like he was calming a rabid dog. His mouth moved but she only shook her head; she couldn't hear, something in her brain broke, something shut down, something died.
oh sweet christ
She followed Max through the silent broken streets, massacred concrete and scoured store fronts. He brought her through a door-less doorway, past a dark and empty bar, down creaking wooden steps. Evelyn stood up, smile disappearing under her hands. She moved her mouth. Max leaned down so their eyes were level, hand on her shoulder.
Jean sank to her knees. From far away, the other end of a tunnel maybe, Evelyn said her name, ran a washcloth over her face, under her chin. Why, Jean thought.
You're covered in blood, Evelyn said.
She stared at her hands for a long time. Useless. Nothing but air.
Jean, Max said. He held Isabel's pack. Faded green, torn in places, clasp broken. Do you want to, he said. She pulled it to her lap, folded the top open. Her hand immediately fell upon The Rose Lattice, bright red roses on what was left of a once white now gray and torn cover.
And that was just so fucking funny, wasn't it, her dead girlfriend's present in her other dead girlfriend's pack, just the funniest fucking thing so of course she laughed, long and hard and for some stupid reason she started crying, huge heaping wails and she couldn't control herself damnit they didn't need to see this Eve was still just a kid she needed Jean to be strong and two sets of arms wrapped around her and she just couldn't fucking stop because Isabel was gone.
*
The eave cast a too-small shadow that Jean couldn't manage to squeeze herself under. "Wonder if I can have a fan installed," she muttered.
"Technically you do," Max said, fiddling with the lock. It would have been easier to just smash the door open, but there was no telling if the little town was safe or not. "Humans sweat to cool off."
"If that was good enough," Jean said, "we wouldn't have invented the air conditioner."
Evelyn groaned. Sixteen and surly, Jean was pretty sure everything annoyed her nowadays. "It's not that hot."
"You have melanin, kid. I'm practically see-through."
"We all have melanin -- ha!" Max grinned as he pulled the door open. "And we didn't even have to break anything."
"That's no fun," Jean said, following him inside. "Hold up."
Despite the locked door, the pharmacy had been cleared out - probably years ago. Empty shelves, broken overturned cash registers like little mechanical corpses strewn about.
"Maybe there's something in the back," Evelyn said, tromping past the both of them. "That's where they keep the good stuff, right?"
"Wait," Max said. Evelyn ducked away from him. "The door was locked but the place is empty, Eve, think about it--"
"We're all armed, what does it matter? Stop trying to be my dad." She hopped over the back counter, peering in through the glass that showed off the back room. "I think there's some stuff back here!"
"Stuff," Max muttered. Jean followed behind, gun in hand. "Eve, forget it, we're leaving." Max made it to the counter as the back door opened. The woman grabbed Evelyn, raising her knife. Evelyn blocked the strike, giving Max time to fire. The woman screamed and staggered away, clutching at the hole in her cheek. Evelyn scrambled back; Jean grabbed her and tugged her towards the exit, Max leading the way.
She slammed the front door shut, the glass shattering. Max took Evelyn by the shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah yeah I'm fine I--"
The shotgun blast was nearly deafening; Jean whirled and fired twice, putting two new ventilation holes in the shooter's head. Evelyn shrieked as Max crumpled to the ground. "Watch the door," Jean said, kneeling beside her comrade. Max stared up at her, pain tearing at his eyes. His chest lay open, torn apart like raw hamburger and Jean felt her own chest tighten as he reached for her.
Jean got her arms under him and hauled him up in a princess carry. He'd appreciate the joke later. "We have to go."
"They might have supplies--"
"There might be more of them. We need to get back to the others. Nathan can help. We need to run." Jean took off, trusting Evelyn to watch her back. Max latched onto her collar, his hot breath shuddering down her neck.
"Jean, when, when those army guys--"
"Save your breath," Jean said. "I'm pulling you out of this."
"I never apologized," Max said, voice shaking. "I never--"
"Shut up, asshole, I forgave you years ago."
Shouts rose up behind them, wordless wailing and "git back here!" Evelyn muttered a curse.
"Leave me," Max stuttered. "Slowing you down."
"You're not heavy," Jean said. "Stop talking."
They wove through overgrown backyards and the skeletons of abandoned homes, never quite catching sight of their pursuers. Evelyn waved Jean through the tunnel that marked the entrance to their little settlement. Jean rushed through to the other side, squinting in the sunlight, relief flowing through her. Abigail stood to greet them, concern washing over her face; Jean imagined telling her everything would be fine, it wasn't even that bad a wound and Nathan would fix him up in no time, and later after that Jean would tease Max that the real doctor had fixed him up, and then Max said in a voice so quiet Jean would spend years wondering if he'd actually spoken or if it was only in her head:
"I guess now you'll be able to finish your stupid book," and then he stopped breathing.
*
Jean cracked her eyes open to find Evelyn glaring down at her, arms crossed tight across her chest.
"We have rules," Evelyn said, voice nearly steady, "for a reason, Jean Wright."
Jean touched the bandage on her head. The bullet had glanced off her skull, giving her a nasty new scar and the scavenger enough time to get away. "Sorry."
"Sorry," Evelyn repeated, sarcasm thick enough to slice through. "You went out alone, at night, and didn't tell anyone. You know if I did that you'd have a fucking fit. But it's okay if cyborg Jean goes off because her robot parts make her immortal, except they fucking don't, do they?" Evelyn started to pace as she spoke. "Jean is so strong and so independent and so--"
"Stupid," Jean said, pushing herself up slow. The world stayed level. "And stubborn. Maybe a little psycho."
Evelyn dropped her arms, anger deflated. She dragged over Nathan's guest chair and sat heavily, eyes downcast. "You're my only family, you know."
"Likewise." Jean sighed. "I am sorry, Eve."
Evelyn shrugged with her whole body, wiping at her eyes. "Yeah I know you are. Nate said to stay here for a little while so he can keep an eye on you. So you're going to do that no matter how stir-crazy you get, got it?"
Jean turned up the corner of her mouth. "Got it."
Eve picked a stack of books up off the floor. "I grabbed these from your room. Figured they'd keep you occupied."
Jean lay them out on the bed, spreading her fingers across them. She laughed as she picked up the oldest looking one, cover pretty much gone, the little written message gone with it; water stains and blood stains and who-knew-what-else stains on every torn page. Evelyn's eyebrows rose up and Jean said, "I've had this for nearly ten years, and I still haven't read it."
"Now's as good a time," Evelyn said, grabbing one of the others. "You ain't goin nowhere."
Jean settled back, gingerly opening the first battered page.
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Also the fact that it is a trashy romance novel about lesbians, because gimme.
no subject
I figured if I was going to write a post-apocalyptic-everything-is-horrible 'verse, at least there would be trashy lesbian romance novels.
no subject
And I think Jean maybe learned something at the end, too, so that maybe she won't put off the things she's been meaning to do.
no subject