kayakking | (no subject)

[He got as far as rolling his sleeves up, then deciding to roll them down and rinse them out as well but stops. Eyes focused down.]

What?

Do you - if you need help -

I'm fine.

[It's clipped, short. Trying to keep back the anger from upstairs since it's unwarranted. He gets his hands rinsed off, splashes his face and just... Sees himself. Sees the green hand-shaped splotches and catches his breath.]

Fairly certain I can handle washing my own face.

[Well. Maybe a little bite.]

That's not what I meant.

[ A misty shadow slips in behind him, murky in the reflection but still visible. ]

Then what did you mean?

[It's... This shirt is ruined. No salvaging it. He starts unbuttoning the dress shirt and shucks it to the corner, not really caring about the very physical, visible crack in his ice scar, or the new burn scars here and there. He's focused on not looking at Algric and finding those extra clothes his younger self stored away here.]

[ Oh -

Whatever Algric was going to say is swallowed up by the horror of that cracking going through Jonah’s shoulder. God, it’s even worse than he thought.

He reaches out a hand for it. Hesitates. ]

You’re hurt, Jon. God, your shoulder is…

[He pulls away from the cold, shrinking a bit.] Don't.

[A breath. And then starts pulling the spare clothes on -a cheap shirt and a hoodie.]

Just tell me what you meant.

I ... I just want to help you. I want to do undo even a little of this.

[ His voice fades to a whisper as he lets his hand fall. ]

[Jonah doesn't answer for a long moment. Stuck staring down at his hands, remembering like a dream for a few minutes he didn't have fingers. They were gone, melted down to the bone and-

He presses his hands to his face, heels of his palms to his eyes and breathes.

A dream. That's all.]

We still have work to do. We should go see how Tim's doing and finish cleaning up.

... Right. All right.

[ Algric recedes, then, waiting for Jonah to finish. ]

[Right. Just.

Jonah rubs at his face then starts back upstairs. He'll get some time alone later to process. Clean up for now.

He makes it back upstairs, waiting at the door to see if Tim is finished...]

There's the last curling escaping heat, and a lingering smell on the air.

But Tim is standing outside of the former office of Elias Bouchard, arms cross and expression... abstracted.

"Hey..."

... That sure is a hoodie, isn't it?

[Boy it sure is. Jonah doesn't even care at the moment.]

How is it?

Are we talking practically or emotionally or all of the above?

For the sake of brevity, let's go with practically.

[They can deal with the emotional when they go home.

He can deal with his own emotions when he's alone later.

For the moment, he leans trying to peer through the doorway.]

I still have to scrub the CCTV as well before we go.

It's completely done.

[ Bones and everything. ]

... [He starts to reach for Tim's arm, some kind of reassurance... but stops. Never quite making contact. Instead, he nods.]

All right... You both go home. I'll catch up.

Don't be daft, Jon. We're not leaving you here.

[ Algric's voice appears out of nowhere, followed shortly by the rest of him. ]

[ He sees that aborted gesture and.. holds out his hand instead. ]

Come on... lets go home.

[Jonah has to fight himself not to look towards Algric... But instead at the hand offered.]

...We need his keys. To... T-to lock up until we can finish the rest.

I'll get them.

[ Algric moves past Tim to Elias's office, sifting through drawers. ]

Thanks. That would be great.

[ He calls after Algric, hand still offered out. Oh, there's still discussions to be had, but he knows himself better than to have them while his head is still hot. ]

[Something just irritates him further at that, Algric going in to do that.

It should be his-

He knows they're both angry. He knows they both want to tear into him. He doesn't want to take the hand, but... he does. Very loosely, ready to pull away at the first hint that Tim's done.]

Fine. Home, then.

[ Algric is just desperate to be useful in any way that he can, okay. Anything to assuage the guilt that his anger is quickly converting into.

He reemerges a moment later, keys in hand. ]

H-here.

[ He can just. Feel the tension in the air. And you know what? A great deal of that is deserved. But he may crack their foggy and mothy heads together if he has to...

He waits for Algric to hand the keys to Jonah... ]

Good. Lets lock up, and call this a... it sure is a day.