meadowlarklogs | intervention (closed)

You know that's not an answer.

[ but she will accept it as one, just this once.

before she can turn back to the counter, carolina spies maine's dose of medication, untouched on the table. it's only when she opens her mouth to remind him that he's just going to get more sore as the evening wears on that she sees the second dose. ah, that's fair.

she picks up the dose set aside for her with a brief, grateful little smile and moves to take it with her water, stepping away but deliberately not giving maine any reason to worry that she's not actually taking it. it's funny, she thinks, that the same stubborn tactics her and wash use on one another are familiar to maine, too. whether that's the sort of thing she just missed seeing elsewhere in the unsc or something specific to how close the freelancers had been, she's not sure.

medication taken, carolina finishes wrapping the other ice packs, drops one at the table before she passes, heading for the bedroom she shares with wash. ]

I'll be right back. If you're hungry, help yourself.

[ it's maine. after the last few hours they've had, she's sure that he is.

and carolina wants to get somewhere more private to perform the arduous task of getting out of her shirt. it isn't a matter of modesty — maine has certainly seen her topless more than once — but a sense of wanting to minimize maine's reactions to her injuries. she doesn't want him to see her struggle, doesn't want him to see how badly she's bruised before she has time to identify it herself.

there's a brief stop in the bedroom, then a longer one in the bathroom before carolina finally emerges, wearing a loose, sleeveless shirt. it was easy to get on, but the collar dips low enough that the bruising from maine's blows is visibly already making itself known.

she doesn't want to dwell on it right now, just get an ice pack resting against her collarbone. ]

[ There are plenty of reasons Carolina might retreat to another room. Maine briefly considers a few, then lets the matter drop from his thoughts. Carolina took her painkillers; she has an ice pack; she's in a safe environment more familiar to her than him. Whatever reasons she has for seeking privacy are hers. He's not about to pry.

Maine takes his medicine and spends a few minutes icing his chest. Whether he has a cracked rib or just a bad bruise doesn't really matter to him. Treatment is more or less the same. When he gets tired of sitting, he stands up, grimaces, stretches, grimaces again, and heads into the kitchen.

Back in the station, Maine's kitchen was a fucking masterpiece. Tall counters, lots of room to move, and a ceiling so high he never felt he had to duck. This kitchen is … not that. But it's better than the so-called "kitchen" in Maine's new place. He pulls off his sweatbands, sticks them in a pocket, and then washes his hands thoroughly and gets to work.

Cooking isn't necessarily something that Maine enjoys. Not the way he enjoys combat and pushing his physical limits. But it's easy to get lost in, and he's not bad at it. Learned some as a kid. Learned more once he was on his own, too big and too hungry to rely on takeout without breaking the bank. It was either learn how to cook or eat military rations for the rest of his (potentially very short) life. He chose to learn.

By the time Carolina returns, a still-shirtless Maine has made himself at home in the kitchen. He has shrimp on the stove, and he's busy chopping vegetables for stir fry. The ice pack lies nearby, but it's evident he's decided food is more important than ice right now.

Maine glances up when he sees movement. His eyes meet Carolina's, then drop to the ice pack on her collarbone … and the bruises peeking out from beneath her neckline.

There's a moment of silence: Maine's hands have stilled. Then, purposefully, he drags his gaze away, looks down at what he's doing, and resumes chopping. ]

[ maine's eyes land on the ice pack, on the bruising visible at the edges of it despite the fact that she has it pressed to the worst part, and carolina finds herself holding her breath. the first time his power had activated, he'd been disgusted with himself, upset with the thought of having caused her harm. she thinks he's done significantly more this time but he's been steadier, after the memories she shared.

clear evidence of what he'd done might have been a reason for maine to leave and when his hands still, carolina expects him to.

but his eyes drop, he stays, and carolina can breathe again, even if it's still not without pain. the worry about trying to make maine stay in the apartment long enough for wash to get home fades away and she gladly buries it. it's not a concern anymore. ]

I take it you've found what you needed.

[ it's with a little tip of her head at the stove as she moves to lean against the counter furthest from maine, giving him space to move. it's not a big kitchen and he's not a small man. ]

Anything I can do?

[ If Maine hadn't already resolved to stop running and hiding, Carolina's bruises might've pushed him toward the door. He might've tried to get away from her, afraid that he might hurt her again. It's not as though that fear is gone — far from it. It's that he knows distancing himself from Carolina isn't the answer.

He doesn't want to become that person in her memory. He doesn't want to leave her.

Guilt rises, and Maine focuses on his work. Focuses on the knife's edge instead of the marks still visible on his wrist. Focuses on controlling himself. He can't take away Carolina's bruises; he can cook her dinner. ]

Can chop.

[ Said as he looks over at her for a moment, then jerks his chin toward the vegetables still waiting to be sliced. ]

[ carolina's affirmative nod is small, a little vague, and she deliberately adds a hum of confirmation as she makes her way over to the sink to wash her hands. she still has her ice pack on her chest, awkwardly draped over her shoulder so it's not everywhere she needs iced, but at least she won't have to hold onto to it and she's getting at least a little relief.

then she's skirting around maine, finding a knife to start working at the vegetables in question. she leans down a little, definitely squints to try to make her vision focus, but she wants to help.

she's mostly through them when she hears the lock of the front door and pauses to take as deep of a breath as she can manage. ]

Right. Time to see how upset Wash is with us.

[ with her, more likely, but as far as joking about it goes, she feels more comfortable acting as if it's both of them. ]

[ Wash was antsy the entire end of his shift, after the text argument with Carolina. But she'd apologized for not telling him, so now he's just eager to get back and check on them, make sure they're both alright. He kind of can't believe Maine came over, that it worked, but. He shouldn't underestimate Carolina's powers of persuasion.

He rushes home after work and fumbles with his keys a little as he lets himself in -- what he sees when he gets inside isn't what he expected. They're both in the kitchen cooking, Carolina's grip on her knife seeming a little shaky. Unsurprising, considering the visible bruising under her icepack, and the way her eyes don't quite focus on him when he anxiously tries to meet them. Maine looks steady but.. it's Maine. Wash would still really like to check him over. ]

Hey... I didn't expect dinner to be happening.

[ He closes the door and reaches out toward Carolina first, hand beckoning like "let me look at you." ]

It's good to see you, Maine. Are you guys sure you're okay?

[ If there's a slight oddity to the sound of Carolina's chopping, Maine doesn't pick up on it. He knows how Carolina moves in combat; he doesn't know how she moves in a kitchen. He finishes cutting up his vegetables, then pulls the shrimp off the stove — he'll add it to the vegetables later. That's when there's a noise at the door, and Carolina makes a joke about Wash.

A strange combination of guilt and apprehension twists in Maine's gut. He makes a quiet noise of acknowledgment. Looks over when Wash enters, sees Wash's worry plain as day, and nods in greeting. Then Carolina moves toward Wash, and Maine gratefully takes the opportunity to snatch up her vegetables, add them to his own, and start cooking the whole lot.

"Okay" might be pushing it, Maine thinks. They're alive, and they're not critically injured. They'll be fucking sore for a while: the bruises on his bare chest and torso are only going to get worse, and he's sure that Carolina looks just as bad beneath her shirt. But it's better than it could be, so maybe that counts for okay. Maybe.

Maine keeps his thoughts to himself, letting Carolina field that question. Keeps his eyes on the vegetables. Keeps doing what he can. ]

[ wash beckons and carolina doesn't make him wait, still uncertain where they stand after the argument earlier. he'd appreciated the apology, she thinks, but if he's still upset with her, she gets it. and she really doesn't want to make that upset any worse.

she raises her opposite hand to hold the ice pack in position as she comes to a stop in front of wash, her obviously ginger arm reaching, tentatively, for his hand. ]

It's nothing that won't heal.

[ her tone is light for how apprehensive carolina feels if wash lets her make contact with him. she's exhausted, a little off-kilter, and what's obviously relief at having maine here is tempered by worry about how wash is handling this moment. ]

And Maine got hungry. I wasn't going to tell him no.

[ Wash takes her hand, squeezes it and she can feel his concern intense and sharp but he's not angry anymore. At least not right now. ]

Yeah, of course. Food's good. Can I see?

[ He reaches up with his other hand to gently move the icepack. ]

Don't think that just because you're busy you're getting out of this, Maine.

[ But as he lifts the icepack his chest begins to glow brighter than just from having the bond engaged, and Carolina's pain starts to ease, become duller... the bruise is fading. ]

[ wash feels worried but not angry and even if the topic has to be revisited later, carolina feels better now.

significantly better, actually. more than the empathy bond and reassurance that wash isn't mad at her should make her feel, no matter the impact that has on her. she doesn't hide the sense of feeling better from their bond and then can't even begin to quiet the confusion that follows as she glances down at her chest. there's a lot of bruising there, the sort that she's expecting to get much worse in the next twelve hours, but some of it is fading when it should be doing the exact opposite of that. ]

Uh... [ carolina looks up, seeks wash's gaze. ] Is that you?

[ Carolina's relief gets a little smile out of Wash, but that expression also turns to surprise and confusion as he realizes what's happening. ]

Shh, shh--

[ He doesn't want to break his concentration on whatever it is he's doing or thinking or feeling that triggered the ability; the glow continues, until Carolina's skin looks normal to him, the swelling over her collarbons gone. Wash blinks, and finally looks up at her. ]

I guess it was. How does it feel?

[ carolina purses her lips together when wash hushes her, waiting until he talks again. and then she's raising her free hand, fingers prodding lightly from her breastbone over to her shoulder, her expression furrowed. ]

Like even if it's broken, I'm not nearly as bothered as I was ten minutes ago.

[ Exactly what Maine would be getting out of by being busy, he doesn't know. He doesn't ask, either, only glancing over his shoulder long enough to see Wash removing the ice pack from Carolina's shoulder. Then he turns back to the stove. Keeps his eyes on the vegetables. Keeps focused on what he's doing.

It doesn't entirely work. The mixture of guilt and apprehension still swirls inside of him, churning in an almost nauseating way. He keeps breathing. Tosses the shrimp and sauce in with the vegetables and continues cooking.

He's not going to leave. He told himself he wouldn't, and he won't.

After a pause, Carolina mentions not being bothered by something that might be broken. Maine glances over his shoulder again, but he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. Just the glow from the empathy bond.

He pulls the stir fry off the stove and turns off the heat. ]

Food's done.

[ Wash still looks a little shocked by what he's just done, looking from his hand to Maine and back again... then he lets go of Carolina's hand so he can step forward, beckoning towards Maine instead. ]

Hey can I... can I see where you're hurt? Really quickly.

[ That request gets a curious look from Maine, but he does as asked. Turns to face Wash without saying a word. He doesn't need to: there are bruises all over his bare torso. The worst of them is almost dead-center on his chest, and it's shaped suspiciously like Carolina's foot.

That Carolina gave him one hell of a kick is plain as day. As is the fact that if the bruising is already this bad, it's bound to get a whole lot worse. ]

[ Okay, well... Wash doesn't want to risk running out of battery or whatever without getting to the worst of them, so he'll start there. He steps in, leans a little closer and holds his hand out without touching because he knows Maine wouldn't like it but that's how people focus their powers in movies. Maybe there's actually something to it.

Nothing happens.

He frowns, and tries to focus harder but what he's really doing is getting worried he can't help and desperately wishing Maine were healed. Which is what triggers his power, his chest starting to glow again. Just like with Carolina the pain fades, the swelling disperses, and the injury is slowly repaired. ]

[ For a moment, Maine thinks that Wash is going to touch him. He stiffens, mentally bracing himself, but he doesn't move to avoid it. Doesn't growl, "No," or try to bat Wash's hand away. He readies himself for what he thinks is coming, and…

… It doesn't happen. Nothing does. Wash just looks like he's trying to move shit with his mind.

Maine waits, still tense, as another strange feeling joins the mix of apprehension and guilt. Not quite disappointment, but … something. He shakes it off quickly enough, distracted by the glow from Wash's chest — and then the change on his own.

Maine looks down, fascinated as he watches the bruise change. Bits and pieces at first, splotches of color shrinking and vanishing as though never there at all. The pain of each breath — something he'd already begun to accept as inevitable — gradually lessens as Wash slowly repairs the injury. ]

[ carolina's still absently prodding at her wounds — although some of them don't feel like anything more than distant, overworked aches — as she watches wash... try. nothing for a moment, and then his chest glows and she automatically assumes wash has activated that empathy bond maine dislikes so strongly, taking a step forward as if to intervene.

but that's not it. maine isn't distressed, just confused, curious, something like that. ]

Well, Wash, I guess you just had to complain about not being able to heal other people for it to work.

[ Wash straightens up and gives a sharp, delighted laugh, suddenly struck with the impulse to hug Maine because his friend is right in front of him and he's overjoyed -- but he catches himself. Steps back instead, looking at his hands and then back up at Carolina. ]

That'd be a dangerous power, if complaining about something got you something you wanted.

[ But she's not wrong. ]

...I did it.

[ Maine raises a hand to poke at the bruise — or rather, what used to be a bruise. Now it's perfectly healthy skin, smooth and undamaged. The only discoloration is the faint red caused by Maine poking at it.

Quietly, and with a sense of awe, ]

Thank you.

You did it.

[ it's a soft echo for wash, carolina fighting a smile at just how goddamn excited he looks. she swallows hard, tries to look a little more put together as she glances at maine. ]

Breathing easier now?

[ Wash looks back up at Maine with wide, hopeful eyes, puppyishly wanting to know if it helped. ]

It helped?

[ Maine nods, still working to process what just happened. It's the first time he's really seen Wash's power in action. First time he's experienced one of his own injuries vanishing as if by magic. It's a hell of an ability.

He looks up then, catching sight of Carolina fighting to contain a smile while Wash doesn't contain anything. His lips twitch up in a smile of his own. Without thinking about it, he reaches out, intending to squeeze Wash's shoulder as he repeats, ]

Thank you.

[ Wash reaches up instinctively to grip Maine's wrist happily, then catches himself again. Ducks his head in a tiny thank you back instead, and then gestures to the pan Maine took off the heat awkwardly. ]

I've kept you from dinner long enough, though... I'll grab plates?

[ carolina watches that little half-gesture from wash, seeking contact but stopping himself. she can guess at what that means, so she deliberately looks to maine, waits to catch his eye before nodding her head pointedly toward wash.

do something, she hopes he understands. ]

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