brokenweapon

Current Mood: traumatized

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021.

[Written, because he doesn't trust his voice right now. Also, content subject to change as backthread continues. Watch this space.]

I take back everything bad I've said about the other ports.

[Private to Costigan.]
I need a drink, and you probably do too.

Spoke to Nygma during the port, by the way. Thought you might want to know.

[Private to Claire.]
Are you okay? I'm sorry I wasn't able to find you.

[Private to Slade.]
Thank you.

[Private to the Admiral.]
Please restore my inmate's powers. He deserves to have them back.

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[She hugged her things to herself and gave him a sheepish look.]

Hey.

[Claire moved into the room with his permission and remembered that the last time she was here it was for a different reason entirely. Now, he was helping her.]

Where should I put my things?

Here! (http://i34.tinypic.com/30jn2wl.jpg)

"You can put them by the bed. I'm taking the couch." [His tone made it pretty clear that he was going to brook no argument on this. Some scrap of ladies-first manners he'd been brought up with that the brainwashing had failed to beat out of him, no doubt. He was proud of that. He was proud he'd been able to beat them that much.

Bourne was worried about her. 'Cause really, she was just a kid when it came down to brass tacks. Barge veteran or not.]

[She frowned, but complied, gingerly setting her things beside his bed. Claire reached out to touch the bed cover, moving her eyes to the bathroom and then toward Bourne.]

Least there's not blood involved this time, right?

[Her laugh was pathetic, but it was the best she could muster.]

[Bourne couldn't even come up with a pathetic laugh, but he did try and smile, for her sake. It looked a little as if he'd forgotten how.

There was silence for a few moments, and then he caught sight of something in her effects and smiled more genuinely.] "I like the teddy bear."

[She was more than understanding of the lack of smiles and laughter, actually glad to be with someone who had shared some level of her hell. She didn't owe him anything, wouldn't have to meet some expectations, and could be content in the silence that was sure to come in moments of recollection of their nightmares in Port.

Claire blushed but nodded.]

Thank you. I used to collect them, back home. My dad, Noah? He would bring them home from every trip he took. My cabin included them with it.

[Gingerly, she sat on his bed, meeting his eyes again.]

Where is home for you?

[Stories were distractions.]

"Your dad travels a lot?" [Bourne asked. Used to collect them. Like she'd deliberately stopped. A lot of the past tense in that response, but maybe that was just because she'd been on the Barge for so long. It really did become a whole other life.

And she had to open with a tough question, didn't she?] "I haven't really had a home. Not for a long while." [About six weeks in the real world (only? It felt like years). Months and months on the Barge.] "This, though," [he said, indicating the room,] "is Goa, India. The last place I was able to settle in." [He'd almost have preferred an empty room. This was too bittersweet, too much a perfect replica of their shack, that sometimes he half-expected Marie to come walking in the door with a grin on her face. Then reality would set in again, and it was always like a punch to the gut. Especially since that last damn port.]

Edited 2010-09-02 15:21 (UTC)

[She shrugged because she needed something to do.] "He used to. He pretended to be a paper sales man, but really he was working for these assholes who were trying to find more people like me. Before I left, again...before I left again, he had given it up."

[Claire again took to looking around his cabin.] "I like it. But I can't imagine not having a place to call home." [She canted her head at him sadly, wondering how to read the look on his face.] "Then again, I guess you could say home is where your family and friends are...I think that's why I call this place home now, sometimes. It doesn't always sit well with everyone, Warden and Inmate alike, but really, when you're here for so long like I've been, what else am I supposed to call it?"

[She didn't regret her time here, if only because it meant meeting people like Jason and Ruby, Sam and Wichita. It meant she got to help Bobby and hopefully the others too, if only a little before they disappeared. Deep down, she felt like she could graduate Malcolm too. And that made everything so worth it. No matter how hellish Ports and floods got, they couldn't take those things away from her.]

[Bourne felt sad for her. To be betrayed like that by someone you trusted...but at least he'd given it up. If he really has, he thought, analyzing every possibility. He wasn't going to say that to Claire, though.

He shrugged in kind.] "It's not so bad. You get used to it, after a while." [And could he really call the Barge his home? He'd made better friends here than he could ever remember having - except of course for Marie, but it hurt too much to think about her right now. It was too painful to think about what she'd said to him in that port. Even though it wasn't her...the apparition had still affirmed his worst guilts and fears.]

"How long have you been here?" [Was there a certain point at which you could officially call the Barge your home, instead of just a place to live?]

[She nodded, understanding the ability to get used to change. She'd changed her name before, her demeanor and facade, moved homes and changed schools. All to be 'normal' and hide her abilities. For protection, as Noah had said countless times before.

Claire swallowed hard and prepared for the usual response that followed her answer.]

"About two years now."

[Bourne raised an eyebrow, actually surprised.] "Two years?" [Then again, he'd been here for - shit, eight months. Time flew away with you here.

He paused, running over his mental calendar. It'd be that day soon.] "So you've spent that long here," [he said.] "Have you noticed any aging at all since you arrived?" [Did this place, did time here, affect his life back where he came from outside of the deal?]

[Claire licked her lips, right in her assumption on his reaction, but nodded her head.] "Yeah. I came here before Halloween, which was, heh, fun. That year we turned into our costumes."

[She gave a sarcastic thumbs up.]

"Jason, sweetheart, I don't age...remember? But as for the others..."[and here she had to give pause, dropping her gaze to think on the question.] "I mean, we've had birthdays, but...I can't really say I've noticed a difference. Then again, two years isn't really long enough to see a drastic change like that, unless a kid was involved. And we haven't had a child on board."

[Yet. Claudia was immortal and Hit Girl hadn't arrived at this point in time.]

"Hm." [He had a birthday coming up - the first one he'd know the date of, the real date. Would it even count? There was something ironic about that; having your first real birthday you could remember not meaning anything.

Then he raised an eyebrow.] "You turned into your costumes. At least that sounds like one of the better floods."

[She frowned, explaining,] "Nooooot really. I set of games to test people and if they survived, they lived. If they didn't, they died. Like that Jigsaw killer."

[He shook his head.] "It's the Barge - I should have expected as much."

[In which they continued to talk into the wee hours of the night, because sleep sure as hell wasn't coming anytime soon, and when they did finally cease their chatter and attempted to rest, Claire found herself fighting the urge to fall asleep because she didn't want to face the nightmares, and instead, she watched Jason sleep (or was he?) from across the room, grateful he had let her stay here.]

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021.

Spam - Ha! No biggie but I'll upload elsewhere.

Spam - Aww, Claire :c

Spam - <3

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Spam - Whoa, went off down there, heh. <3

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Spam - when are you free this week to talk out the plot bunny we hatched via txts?

Spam - Tomorrow, probably. Been off AIM because of all this stuff for school I've had to do.

Spam - <3

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Spam - Because I don't 4th wall/canon punture.

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Summary : Run-on sentence ftw. If not okay, will edit.

Summary : Check. P.S. He's totally not asleep.