meadowlarklogs | intervention (closed)

[ 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. ]

[ Maine catches that aborted gesture. Guesses the reason behind it immediately and wonders if he should pull his hand back. Before he can do so, however, Carolina gives him a Look™ that requires no explanation.

… Fuck. Fine. Time to do this.

This time, Maine purposefully doesn't think about it. He steps forward and, knowing skin-to-skin contact is inevitable, pulls Wash into a hug.

However collected and steady he appears on the surface, Maine's emotions are anything but that. There's gratitude, and there's apprehension, and there's a deep well of affection — something heartfelt and almost painful in its intensity. Beneath that lies guilt, and shame, and a trace of fear.

Maine doesn't think of anything. He doesn't let himself. If Wash lets him, he'll pull back fairly quickly and turn again to the food. ]

[ Wash is 100% fine with what he got and is ready to pull back when instead, Maine steps forward... and pulls him into a hug. Wash is frozen for a moment then his arms come up, embracing his friend, and this really is the best possible time Maine could have hugged him. He's pretty much purely happy, both from his newly upgraded power and the fact that Maine is hugging him and engaging the bond. Happy enough that the guilt and shame and fear barely phase him, since he can tell it's not about him, that was the apprehension... it's about his power, about Carolina.

For a split second before Maine pulls back Wash has the impulse to tell him they're there for him and they'll figure it out, but he settles for the brief burst of hope and gratitude through the bond as his friend steps back.

In the ends he doesn't say anything, but he's learned from using the bond with Carolina that emotions speak louder. He just goes to grab those plates. ]

[ that bit of successful nonverbal communication with maine makes carolina feel a little more settled, reaffirmed that she can help him. her and wash both can.

she really hopes that hug helped wash as much as her contact with maine earlier had.

there's no space in the kitchen for her with them both there and she's still a little woozy anyway, moving to lean against the living room wall while she watches them, waits for them to inevitably move toward the table so she can join. she has nothing to say, but she does catch wash's hand when she can, gives his fingers a tight squeeze, their bond full of loving gratitude. ]

[ Although Maine is nothing but proud of his body, he has the sense to grab his discarded shirt and tug it back on. Better to dirty it than to get food on himself if something drops. Now fully clothed, he settles down at the table with his plate. Then, just for a moment, he lets himself breathe.

Breathing doesn't hurt. Wash didn't tell him to get the fuck out. Carolina wants him here.

Marks from Carolina's fingernails still mar his right wrist. He doesn't let himself look at it. Doesn't let himself think about what it might've been like to have Church at this table, too. He swallows once, then he digs into his stir fry.

Maine doesn't enjoy cooking, but he's not bad at it. The food is simple, straightforward, and nutritious. He thinks it tastes pretty good, and he eats quickly. ]

[ Wash comes over with a plate in each hand aand two forks, setting them down for himself and Carolina before taking a seat and her hand. He gives a squeeze back, smiling -- he really is very happy right now, but he does let go of her hand before starting to eat. It just feels like rubbing things in, in front of Maine, which they'd previously agreed would be a shitty thing to do. ]

This is great, Maine. Thanks.

[ Better than he could manage flavorwise, anyway. ]

[ carolina's equally quick to let wash's hand go, needing a moment to check in with him in some way and the brief touch seeming like the best option. still, when carolina settles at their table, she's quick to tuck her legs behind wash's. it gives him and maine both a little extra space for their legs while she can sneak a little bit of extra contact with wash, even if there's no bond involved.

at wash's assessment of the food, carolina nods her agreement, finishing her mouthful before she adds— ]

You're definitely a better cook than either of us are. [ there's a pause, a glance at maine's face before she drops her gaze back to her plate. ] I'm really glad you're here.

[ It's strange to hear someone say they actually like his food. Maine didn't cook for anyone else before getting to the station. There, Church complained about it (as he complained about everything), all while eating more than his fair share — actions that were praise enough, as far as Maine was concerned. Aside from Church, Maine didn't share what he made with anyone else. Didn't have a reason to.

Point is, Maine doesn't know quite how to react to someone complimenting it. Ends up hesitating, surprised, then muttering, ]

Sure.

[ Because that's not fucking awkward at all.

Then Carolina says she's glad he's here, and Maine's fingers tighten on his fork. He's not leaving. He made a decision to stay, to stop running and hiding, and he's going to stick with it. Still, it's dishonest to act like things are fine, even if Wash did heal the worst of their physical injuries. ]

Still dangerous.

[ Said quietly rather than argumentatively, acknowledging the elephant in the room. ]

[ Wash manages, narrowly, not to sigh at that. Yes, Maine, they know. He sets his fork down, just breathing, trying to figure out how to say what he wants to next.

He shifts his feet so that Carolina's ankle is being 'hugged' between his, because he needs the reassurance for this conversation. ]

We know you're dangerous, Maine, but we still want you around. We still want you here. If anyone's going to know how to deal with it, to handle a trigger and snap you out of it, it's going to be us, right?

[ Maine raises his gaze from his food. Sees what looks like forced patience on Wash's face and immediately wants to argue. He wants to say that Carolina didn't snap him out of it this time. He wants to say that he only stopped because someone else's power negated his own. But when his eyes flick to Carolina, checking to see if she'll speak, she looks like she agrees with Wash.

… Well. Fuck that, then.

Maine presses his lips together and drops his gaze back to his food. Doesn't argue. Doesn't agree, either. He's aware that he's sulking, but he doesn't particularly give a shit. If his teammates are dead set on ignoring how dangerous he is, there's nothing he can do about it.

So Maine says nothing. Takes another bite of his food, instead. ]

[ "still dangerous," means little to carolina. it's not news. he's still more dangerous to their enemies than he is to either of them and that's what really matters.

wash makes his case, earnest and heartfelt as he ever is. carolina glances his way, but mostly she's watching maine. watching maine not answer, watching maine lean over his dinner like a chastised child going quiet before they can be excused.

the rush of memories that place carolina in the place maine is now makes her woozy enough to need to close her eyes and breathe. she exhales and forces away the memories of desperately wishing for time with her father and instead trapped at a dinner table while he asked why she wasn't working harder or performing better. the way her father made her feel growing up is the last way she wants maine to feel around her.

she opens her eyes, blinks away some of the blurring in her vision and gives wash a little, 'it's okay' nod. ]

We can talk about it later.

[ her tone is firm, not open for negotiation. if nothing else, the conversation isn't continuing now. ]

Or in the morning, after we've all gotten a chance to clear our heads.

[ Wash hears that tone, glancing from Maine to Carolina to see her eyes are wet, that something's hit a sore spot in her and he doesn't know what it is. The way Maine looks right now, probably, but he still doesn't understand. He's only seen her cry the once. ]

...okay. Yeah.

[ He picks his fork back up, not intending to waste his food. ]

Why don't you stay in our spare room tonight, though? I might be able to heal you a little more later, or tomorrow morning.

[ With his eyes on his plate, Maine misses the change in Carolina's expression. All he hears is her exhale and her firm tone. Conversation closed.

Maine takes another bite. He won't broach the topic again, tonight or tomorrow. Doesn't see any point in doing so.

At Wash's suggestion, Maine glances up again. Considers it for a moment, then nods his acceptance. For the first time since he walked into the warehouse and discovered Carolina waiting, he's grateful that he has the night off. Will give his body a chance to recover. ]

[ carolina keeps her attention on maine until he nods, then offers wash a weak sort of smile before she goes back to eating. the rest of the meal is as quiet as the moment that follows, passing quickly enough, and when they're finished, carolina leaning against the kitchen counter as she rinses her dishes, fully intending on doing the same for wash and maine, too. ]

After this, are you two going to be okay if I go take a shower? I won't be long.

[ the question isn't really a question, just an announcement that that's what she's going to do but she's trying to be nice about it. ]

[ Wash clears the rest of the dishes, setting them beside the sink for Carolina since she seems to have taken on that task. At the question he nods, though he's still worried about her. ]

I think we'll be fine. You want a beer, Maine?

[ With Wash having cleared their plates and Carolina rinsing dishes, Maine finds that he doesn't have anything to do. Not right now, at least. He gets to his feet, but only so that he doesn't feel weird sitting while his teammates are standing.

He'll clean up the things he used to cook once Carolina is out of the kitchen. Doesn't want to crowd her. ]

Sure.

[ The alcohol won't do a damn thing for him. Taste would be good, though. ]

[ With a nod, Wash opens the fridge and reaches in, pulling out two beers and popping the caps. Then he motions Maine to follow him to their little living area, so they can sit on the couch. No sense in standing there just watching Carolina wash dishes, though he does touch her back gently as he passes her. He'll check on her a little more tonight.

As he sits, though, he realizes he doesn't know what to talk about that isn't their current situation... which he doesn't feel up for right now, not after Carolina postponed it. Instead he pulls up his interface and enlarges it so Maine can see, too. ]

Movie night, then?

[ Maine gives Carolina a brief look before following when beckoned. Takes a seat on the opposite side of the couch — habit rather than trying to avoid the empathy bond. He's a big guy; he takes up a lot of space. Doesn't want to crowd.

The silence is awkward for just a second before Wash suggests a movie. Maine nods. He doesn't offer any suggestions: Wash knows his taste well enough. (The more action, the better.) Then he digs into his pockets and pulls out his gloves and wristbands. Tugs each one on, his expression carefully blank as he conceals the marks left by Carolina's fingernails. ]

[ Wash notices that, and knows from Carolina's memory more than having studied his friend's wrists what Maine is trying to hide. He doesn't say anything -- it's unnecessary, there's no need to call attention to it. If Maine's more comfortable with them covered, and with his gloves on, then he should wear them. He's more worried about Maine taking the far side of the couch but knows it's not personal. Probably just giving him space.

He finds an action movie in the 'most popular right now' section that he hasn't seen yet, and tosses it on... and scoots a little closer so the interface is at a better angle for them. Not crowding Maine, but he does remember the days they'd sit right next to each other to watch things, times he'd fallen asleep on the larger man's shoulder and not been disturbed until it was over. But that was another time, another world, and he was practically a different person. Maybe someday they'll be back there; not tonight.

It's a decent movie at least. ]

[ It is a decent movie. It has lots of explosions, cheesy dialogue, and a plot just predictable enough that Maine doesn't feel like he has to pay much attention. He's able to zone out. Soon enough, exhaustion catches up with him, and his head drops forward as he dozes off.

Maine's dreams are strange things, his unconscious mind influenced by the movie he can still hear. He wakes up when the credits roll. Blinking sleepily, he reaches out — and catches himself just before touching Wash.

He stands up. Doesn't think about it. Doesn't let himself.

Wash gets him sheets, and Maine makes up the bed. Then Maine lays down and stares at the ceiling. Tries not to think for as long as he can. When he fails, and grief swallows him up, his chest glows again, freezing him in place.

Still dangerous. Just not every time.

When he can move again, he rolls onto his side, and he tries to sleep. ]

intervention (closed)

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