09-08-2016, 12:52 PM
He'd been told he was a woman's dream come true. Ok. So it was his mother that said it, not some hot chick in a bar, not that mom wasn't hot. She had been pretty in her day. Not that she was old. But yeah never mind.
But the admission as much from Natalie crimped a fresh smirk across his features, edging out concern. Even guilt. He had been elsewhere when she was left to fend for herself. The Legion had a contract from her family to protect her. A piece of paper orchestrated their meeting, and assigned Jay the task of ensuring her safety. But when it came to put up or shut up, he had been MIA. Storming compounds and rescuing their damsel in distress CEO - an idiot that walked into the compound to begin with. Walked in on his own two feet! What the hell did Jacques think was going to happen? Have a fucking baguette and an espresso with Wallace-Johnson, kiss cheeks and walk away as buddies? Damn Frenchman! Maybe he didn't deserve to lose a whole hand, or maybe he did, it wasn't up to Jay to judge, but following orders from Jacques was on his own hide. He decided to do as the Legion said. Go where the Legion went. And that decision carried him away from the refugees and Natalie. First, at the refinery, now at the Embassy.
If he hadn't gone in to look for civilians - for her - she'd be burnt alive now. The screams of one trapped in an inferno fed nightmares no man living deserved. It was a horror that knotted his guts to stone. He couldn't endure such torture. Not again.
Turned out, she was going to be alright. As much couldn't be said about the other two he'd found in nest of flames. The woman hadn't survived. The man dead by Jay's pistol.
As Vanders had promised. As the nurse suggested. Natalie was going to be alright. Sue him that he had to see it for himself. To talk to her. To look her in the eyes and know in his soul, a connection he could almost breathe in like a lingering scent on the air, one quickly fading.
He relaxed a little, as much as he could while still in full battle ready gear. His clothes were Legion assigned camouflage, and the exoskeleton of the power armor suit was clamped to his arms, hips, across his chest and down both legs. All his weapons were within arm's reach, although his primary rifle was propped nearby along with the helmet. It was a hell of a sight when he walked into the hospital, a girl limp in his arms. Nobody stopped him.
His expression changed when she brought up the leg. Yeah. How to explain that? Uh we have a wizard? It sounded crazy.
"It's a long story,"
he finally supplied.
"The same in how your cuts and head are whole again."
His jaw clenched, there was no way to explain without sounding like his sanity was on the fritz.
Her hand laid across his, fingers dancing tip to tip. He didn't want to stand up to show her. Didn't want to break the connection. But his eyes fell to their hands. Hers were smooth but not pampered. Feminine but tough. His seemed beastly by comparison. The pads of skin thick and scarred. An old burn mark marred his thumb pad from touching the barrel of a rifle hot from discharge during basic training.
Her hands may as well clutched his heart. Which was exactly why he let hers go.
He stood and showed her the leg, all patched up. Able to bend knee and everything. And he backed away, grinning, leaning on a sink mounted to the wall.
Finally he pointed at the tray of food. "I was dying of hunger when I went through it. I figured you would be too. We will have find more somewhere else. That was the best they had."
Edited by Jay Carpenter, Sep 8 2016, 02:12 PM.
But the admission as much from Natalie crimped a fresh smirk across his features, edging out concern. Even guilt. He had been elsewhere when she was left to fend for herself. The Legion had a contract from her family to protect her. A piece of paper orchestrated their meeting, and assigned Jay the task of ensuring her safety. But when it came to put up or shut up, he had been MIA. Storming compounds and rescuing their damsel in distress CEO - an idiot that walked into the compound to begin with. Walked in on his own two feet! What the hell did Jacques think was going to happen? Have a fucking baguette and an espresso with Wallace-Johnson, kiss cheeks and walk away as buddies? Damn Frenchman! Maybe he didn't deserve to lose a whole hand, or maybe he did, it wasn't up to Jay to judge, but following orders from Jacques was on his own hide. He decided to do as the Legion said. Go where the Legion went. And that decision carried him away from the refugees and Natalie. First, at the refinery, now at the Embassy.
If he hadn't gone in to look for civilians - for her - she'd be burnt alive now. The screams of one trapped in an inferno fed nightmares no man living deserved. It was a horror that knotted his guts to stone. He couldn't endure such torture. Not again.
Turned out, she was going to be alright. As much couldn't be said about the other two he'd found in nest of flames. The woman hadn't survived. The man dead by Jay's pistol.
As Vanders had promised. As the nurse suggested. Natalie was going to be alright. Sue him that he had to see it for himself. To talk to her. To look her in the eyes and know in his soul, a connection he could almost breathe in like a lingering scent on the air, one quickly fading.
He relaxed a little, as much as he could while still in full battle ready gear. His clothes were Legion assigned camouflage, and the exoskeleton of the power armor suit was clamped to his arms, hips, across his chest and down both legs. All his weapons were within arm's reach, although his primary rifle was propped nearby along with the helmet. It was a hell of a sight when he walked into the hospital, a girl limp in his arms. Nobody stopped him.
His expression changed when she brought up the leg. Yeah. How to explain that? Uh we have a wizard? It sounded crazy.
"It's a long story,"
he finally supplied.
"The same in how your cuts and head are whole again."
His jaw clenched, there was no way to explain without sounding like his sanity was on the fritz.
Her hand laid across his, fingers dancing tip to tip. He didn't want to stand up to show her. Didn't want to break the connection. But his eyes fell to their hands. Hers were smooth but not pampered. Feminine but tough. His seemed beastly by comparison. The pads of skin thick and scarred. An old burn mark marred his thumb pad from touching the barrel of a rifle hot from discharge during basic training.
Her hands may as well clutched his heart. Which was exactly why he let hers go.
He stood and showed her the leg, all patched up. Able to bend knee and everything. And he backed away, grinning, leaning on a sink mounted to the wall.
Finally he pointed at the tray of food. "I was dying of hunger when I went through it. I figured you would be too. We will have find more somewhere else. That was the best they had."
Edited by Jay Carpenter, Sep 8 2016, 02:12 PM.
Only darkness shows you the light.