5055034455 | [exsilium] contact

[She waits, nodding when he finally speaks.]

I know.

[And she was furious about that, too, but that's lost to her as well, now.]

Sonya told me, but I didn't tell her about you.

[That he was involved, because it hadn't been hard to figure out that Sonya didn't know.]

[That gets him squinting. Saul has to backtrack — how does Sonya know? If she told Stephanie, and not vice versa...

Is that why Jesse had the black eye? When did that even happen? He can't remember.]

What'd she tell you?

[In an imitation of Sonya that... actually sounds pretty good, managing to mimic the inotation perfectly, if not actually copying her voice like Damian could:]

'I don't get Pinkman. If it were my kid, I wouldn't rest until the fucker was dead.'

[Well that's fuckin' freaky.

And here Saul had convinced himself this wasn't a nightmare. Maybe he was wrong.

He shakes his head. This seems like a moot point, but he finds himself explaining anyway.]

Brock isn't Jesse's kid. I mean, he might as well be, but — Brock is Jesse's girlfriend's son. I used to bring them money every week, from the First National Bank of Pinkman. He's a good kid. Six years old, big, bright smile... he was just starting school.

[No one told her that, maybe Sonya didn't know, and it's like she delved into it with Jesse, so she just nods.

It doesn't really make a difference, if Jesse felt like Brock as his kid, then he was. Steph knows too many kids who've been taken in by people who aren't blood relatives to think that's a necessary part of a family.

She doesn't know what Saul wants her to say to that, so she goes with one of the things that's made this so fucking difficult.]

My daughter would be about three, back home. I've never seen her, but I get it now, why this is the way it is. I'm sorry it took me so long.

[She wasn't quite there, until that moment, until she realized just how trapped Jesse was.]

[Saul continues to focus on his own fidgeting. His gaze is stuck on the glass and he pauses only to wipe his hands on the sheets when the last few droplets of water trickle out — and then he's right back at it, grip a little tighter, movements a little more unsteady.

He'd forgotten about that. It seems so long ago, even though it's only been a few months. It's starting to feel like he's been here forever. Days are blurring together and he's losing details and that's a serious cause for concern, but that's neither here nor there right now.

She's not the only one who doesn't know how to respond; he's left looking unsure, and nervous, and a little upset. And he still can't look at her. Not while they're talking about this.]

[The silence stretches out for a moment, Steph watching him despite the fact he won't look at her, before she finally sighs.]

Do you want me to go?

[She will, if he wants.]

[Saul shakes his head, finally peering up at her. Of course he doesn't want her to go. How could he?

He just has to know something, first.]

Does this mean you believe me?

Edited (that sure was the wrong html) 2013-09-03 05:38 (UTC)

Yes.

[Still quiet and sad, and it doesn't feel better for having said it, but she knows that he's sorry for what he did, the same way Jesse is.

And she can't ask Jesse to forgive himself while holding that from Saul.]

I can't be angry anymore.

[Not right now, maybe not for a while.

She looks down at her hands.]

[It doesn't make him feel any better, either. Like she hasn't so much forgiven him as she's just run out of energy and maybe doesn't feel anything anymore.

Someday, maybe, he'll stop feeling terrible about all this, but not today.

He sets the glass down and rearranges himself on the bed so he can reach her, and what he decides to do, once he's able, is to brush a bit of hair away from her face and tuck it behind her ear. Rather than apologizing for the billionth time, he just looks at her, again, expression a little sad and a lot sorry.

...and then he looks at the clock, because he's just realized he has no idea what time it is.

3:19. Jesus.]

I guess you can't sleep, either?

[Her eyes close for a moment, breath shaking a little when he touches her, and she hates that it helps, something so little, something from him. And it's not because she's angry at him, but because she knows she should be with Ellie right now, curled up with her instead of in Saul's bedroom.]

I didn't even bother to try.

[She'd just told Ellie she was gonna spend the night patrolling, even if they both knew Steph was too wrecked to actually manage that. Ellie's just willing to give her space.]

[Saul really, really has to wonder what the hell she's thinking.

Ditto for himself.

He frowns a little, knuckles skimming their way across her cheek.]

Well that's no good. You need some rest, Steph.

Edited 2013-09-03 12:34 (UTC)

[She has no idea what she's thinking.]

I dunno, Batman only sleeps like two hours a night and it hasn't killed him yet.

[Batman is not a good role model.]

A valid point, but I don't give a shit about Batman.

[Psh, Bruce Wayne. Fuck that guy.]

What kind of world would this be if we all modeled our behavior after his, huh?

[God, that - actually gets a laugh.]

It'd be really fucked up.

[Sorry Bruce, but he's not exactly a great person. A brilliant hero, but not a good person.]

[Again: Fuck. That. Guy.

Saul smirks. It's nice to hear her laugh.]

Exactly. We'd all have to wear one of those suits, too, and no one wants that.

I don't think the world could afford it. Those things cost about ten grand each.

[Welp.]

So not the point I was trying to make.

[He'd really like to know what prompted this visit, because it's weird, right? All she mentioned was finding out about Brock from Sonya. Something must be missing between that and her decision to come here, but Saul has a feeling it has something to do with Jesse and if there's one thing he doesn't want to do right now, it's talk about Jesse.

After a few seconds of playing with her hair, twisting and twirling a few locks between his fingers, he decides to ask something else.]

Do you have plans to sleep tonight, or...?

[She shrugs, almost apologetic, even though she doesn't even know what she's apologizing for. This was probably a bad decision, but after coming back from Jesse's all she could do was pace while her thoughts ran in circles.

She'd needed to see Saul, she'd needed him to know that she knew the truth. Maybe there's a part of her that was hping seeing him would bring her anger back, but it hasn't worked, and she's glad for that, mostly.

The question doesn't surprise her, but it makes her feel guilty.]

I don't know.

[She wants to ask to stay, but that's not fair to him, not when she knows how he feels about her.]

[She doesn't have to ask. That's where this was going, anyway. Or at least where Saul was going. He's thinking of it as returning a favor; she kept him company the other night when he needed her, after all.

So he scoots over, making room on the bed, and holds his hands up as if to say: No funny business, I promise.]

You don't want to sit on the floor all night. There's cat hair everywhere.

[Thank god.

That shouldn't be the first thought that runs through her head, but it's there and she's too tired to lie to herself.]

Are you saying I couldn't handle cat hair?

[But she's standing up anyway, easing off her sneakers and her hoodie, because it's a little damp from her trip here, leaving it dumped unceremoniously on the floor. She's left in leggings and a t-shirt, comfortable enough to sleep in, but they're also things she can walk around in and pretend she wasn't hoping he'd let her stay.

Which is why she came here, but now they've reached this point she hesitates, unsure exactly how to proceed. It was easier when Saul was just kind of - out of it, and all she had to do was fit herself against him. This is a bit different.

This is also really dumb. The fact that she's making such a big deal about it, and it's that thought that finally has her moving from standing beside the bed from flopping down onto her back. She's staring up at the ceiling, not quite close enough to be touching Saul but she also isn't actively trying to avoid him, either. She's just... trying to act like this is a perfectly normal situation.]

[So this is not at all how he expected things to play out between the two of them.

Like, ever.

His heart's been in his throat this whole time; when she climbs in next to him, it plummets straight down to his gut. That reaction alone is enough to almost make him laugh, because yeah, this is so dumb — but he doesn't.

Until he looks over at her and notices her expression, that is.

Saul isn't laughing at her. What he's laughing at — and really, it's more of a snicker — is the situation itself: how this whole stupid thing started in the first place, how ridiculous it all is, and... everything, pretty much. Kidnapped by people from the future and dropped into a war zone and six months later he's in bed with Batgirl, who made a conscious decision to show up here and do this.

What planet is this, again?]

[Steph punches him.

Not hard, really, she just hits his arm enough for him to know she heard that laugh and she knows what it's for.]

Shut up, McGill.

[That'll teach him.]

Edited (html pls) 2013-09-04 00:59 (UTC)

Sorry.

[He's not sorry. He's still laughing. Even harder, now, because when's the last time anybody called him that? At least he's making an effort to stifle his laughter by pressing his face against her arm, which means he's already nice and cozy, all cuddled up to her.

There are many dangers that come along with getting into bed with Saul Goodman; this is one of them.]

No you're not.

[But she sounds more like she's pouting than anything, and it's such a relief to break that moment of tension.]

Maybe I should've snuck into Remy's room instead.

[That definitely wouldn't have ended poorly.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

this isn't you being asleep

things happened

"things"

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject