lynette3_icon.gif mateo_icon.gif

Scene Title Reversal
Synopsis After a busy night, Lynette comes home.
Date August 15, 2018


It was supposed to be a simple shopping trip. Just to the market and back. But things didn't go that way. When Lynette had service, she texted Mateo to let him know that there'd been an incident, but that she was going to be fine. Of course, her definition of fine and his prove to be very different.

She makes it home, dropping her shopping bag that somehow survived the night just inside the door. Her keys end up in a dish by the door. There's a bandage on her shoulder— not unlike the one he had not that long ago— and many smaller ones on her arms and legs, her clothes are torn and bloody, she looks… haunted more than anything else.

It isn't really a surprise when she walks in the door and Mateo happens to be in the middle of pacing through their apartment. He'd tried to send her multiple messages in response, but only a few came through. Most of them had been various ways of saying 'I love you' and asking if she needed him to come to her, but when he didn't get a reply (and likely they never made it) he decided staying put was a better idea.

Though when she steps in with a bandage on her shoulder much as he had he can't help but inhale sharply as he moves over to her. "Do you need to go to the hospital?" He doesn't ask what happened yet, who did it, where, any of that. Right now 'if she needed a hospital' was far more important than the whats and the whys and the whos.

When he comes over to her, Lynette steps closer to lean against him. She lets out a sigh like she's been holding her breath for hours. "Technically no," she answers, because probably it would have been better to actually go to the hospital. "I saw a nurse, he patched me up. It's okay; it looks worse than it is." Which is probably a lie. But she's trying to downplay it. "I just want to be home."

She leans back, just enough to look at him again. "Something happened at the market." Her hand runs over her face for a moment, eyes going distant. "Several somethings. I got shot," she says, to explain the shoulder.

"Shot." Mateo repeats, looking at the bandage and noting the location. It's not far from where he'd been shot, though his had notably been much more serious just from blood loss, not to mention location and how it had affected him due to his using his ability to get away. That had also worn him out quite a lot more than he would admit to.

"Well, I hope you're ready for not being allowed to do anything for a month or so," he teases, noting his own hardship about not being able to do things even when he wanted. It had hurt, but he had been able to take stronger painkillers when he needed it, though that had only been the first few days.

He doesn't try to give her too much of a hard time, as he gestures her toward the couch where she can at least sit comfortably. They can tell Sylvia about this after, when she gets home from a friend's house. "What happened?"

Lynette chuckles at his tease, then groans dramatically, “If I had known karma would come around this quickly, I would have been nicer to you.” She doesn’t argue getting moved to the couch, because as used to getting shot as she is, a bullet wound is still a bullet wound.

What happened is a complex matter, and not an easy one to come at. Lynette frowns as she settles herself into the most comfortable position she can manage. “There was a man in the market, shooting through the crowd to get to me. He was angry over…” Lynette pauses there, face scrunching to keep her from losing her composure. “He was angry over all the people I didn’t save. We fought. But then,” she says with a sigh, “the MPs showed up and— I lost it. I wasn’t there anymore, I was somewhere else. Just in my head. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I took a shot to the shoulder. I scared the MP. He’d killed my attacker and he was going to kill me, too. But then— and this is where it really got strange— Eileen Ruskin shot him before he could kill me. And then she brought me home.”

That didn't end how he expected it too. Mateo looked worried, but understanding through all of it, right up to the point that Eileen Ruskin had been mentioned. The woman that had tried to kill him, and that Lynette had tried to kill in return, had showed up and saved the day and took her home. He wanted to ask if the MP lived, but he didn't think it mattered at the moment.

But not even years of therapy could change certain things. The past would always be there, the bad memories, the things they had done. And if it happened, they would always be a potential danger to those around them. They were always armed, even when they carried nothing but groceries.

"I guess that means she's not going to be trying to kill you, cause if she would have, it would have happened then." That's good news to him, at the very least. "Do we need to contact the MPs— or SESA— let them know what happened?" The odds she hadn't been recognized…

“Not today,” Lynette answers dryly as for whether or not Eileen was planning on killing her. “I’m hopeful that she and I can come to some kind of understanding. So maybe she won’t try to kill you, either. Ideally.” Of course, Lynette is not truly an optimist, so she’s prepared for it to go the other way. “She told me to keep you from saying yes when someone asks you to use your power. I think she means Richard.” She pauses there, glancing away for a moment. “I think we need to start looking into this business with the other otters. I mean really looking into it. But. It has to be up to you. It’s you she would come for. You know I would do everything I can to protect you, but still. It’s you in danger.”

As for telling SESA, she lets out a long sigh. “I don’t know, my darling. I should probably call Vincent. Maybe in the morning.”

"I'm sure if they catch wind of it they'll be showing up on their own anyway," Mateo responds, reaching over and pulling her closer to him, but being careful not to actually tug on the arm on the affected side at all, or pull her too much. She could get out of it easier, but he still wants to hug her. It can wait. Until they show up and bother them, or until she feels ready to call.

As for the rest…

"I'm not even sure what I could do if I tried. You helped me learn how to use my ability as it is…" And never did anything… that would probably help the others actually happen. "I don't even know where we'd start. The only Otter we know anything about really is the one you met."

And most of what they know about him had been in poetry he'd written in the margins of a book and that he'd died to save her.

Probably she will get scolded by Mister Secretary again. But, that's something to worry about later. Right now, she's far more worried about leaning into Mateo's hug, also gently, because now that she's lacking both adrenaline and distraction, there's nothing much to push the pain away with. And since she cannot— or at least should not— use anything strong enough to dull it, her next few days are going to be challenging.

"I'm not sure, either," she says, which is why she hasn't already been digging into it. But, when Mateo brings up the other him, the one that took her bullet, she looks over art him, thoughtful. "He knew how to get here," she says, which is stating the obvious, but she is shifting how she usually things about him. Away from guilt and regret, toward the facts, the mechanics of him actually making it here. "We need to find out more about him. I don't even know how long he was in there."

How long had he been in that place? How had he gotten there? How had he gotten here? The scribbles in the book didn't answer any of those questions, even if some of his poetry seemed to hint at betrayal, loss, frustration, love, hopelessness— Sometimes he had written about the emptiness, sometimes about the sea. Sometimes about fate or destiny. And often about her. Or at least Mateo had been pretty sure those poems had been about her. Loving her. Losing her.

"Looks like we have something to look into, then, while you recover." He had been tempted to say just him, but no— he knew she wouldn't let him look into this on her own, no matter how shot up she was. "Once you're feeling up to moving around, at least." Because he knew from experience that could be a week. Or more. "I guess your old friends would be the place to start. They'd planned the attack on the Arcology. They had to have some intel."

Lynette nods to his words. The fact that she isn't arguing over waiting speaks to how bad it really is, because if she felt at all like she could just push through it, she would do that. Not this time, though, not tonight.

"I'll ask Ronnie," she says, because he's right about people from the old days being a good place to start, "she was the intel." Their inside eyes that they didn't even know about until she came to them with her findings. "Hopefully SESA isn't keeping her too busy." Not too busy for an old friend, at least. Her good hand lifts to rest against his cheek, her thumb brushing over his skin. She seems to need a moment to appreciate that he's here, that she's still here and able to touch him. "After that, maybe I'll give Avi a call. I'm sure he'd love to hear from me." But he was special activities, they were the ones with the plan.

While her husband doesn't know who the second person is, Mateo does recognize 'Ronnie'. Especially as someone who'd recognized him. That would be a good place to start, and they could try to go further, too. It gave them both something to do. "We'll do that— but for now let's get you into bed. I'll get some ice packs ready for you, because you're going to need them."

Even more than he did, as he moves to get her back to her feet and help her toward the bedroom. Where she's likely going to be stuck for a week or so, whether she likes it or not.

Because yes, she could have been easier on him when he was in that position, and instead she set the bar for attentive and concerned spouse.

"Usually I love to hear you say that," Lynette says, her smile tired but crooked. Usually going to bed with him is a lot better than her week is about to be. But. She does her best to get herself up, but she ends up needing his help anyway. As they head back for the bedroom, her expression falls as she replays the incident in her mind. She didn't get to find out who that man was, or who else might be with him on feeling the need for retribution. She came out of the war seen as a hero, with a beautiful family, with a good reputation. The flashback into her own past only serves to remind her that she doesn't deserve any of it.

"You'll forgive me if I'm a terrible patient, won't you?" she asks, ignoring her own internal thoughts as best she can. She can't deny him the right to take care of her, and only the most stubborn part of her even wants to.

At that question, Mateo laughs softly as he helps her get back down into the bed, not joining her at this point, though he will probably stay close to her side in the next few days, playing music, singing, reading to her, anything to distract her thoughts from what he knows will be pain. After all they had watched a ton of television when it had been his turn. They had exhausted much of the shows they had had lined up, so this time he'll try other methods of entertainment.

"I'd like to think you were patient with me," is his simple tease. He expects her to tell him all the sordid details later, but right now he'd rather help her get comfortable and then get those ice packs together. But he lingers before doing the second.

As hard as she might try, it's difficult to hide the pain on her face as she tries to settle in. Finding a position that doesn't put some strain on her shoulder turns out to be difficult. So, it takes a few moments for Lynette to respond to his tease. But she does smile when she looks over at him again, even if it's strained. "Well, you were so adorable, it was hard to be annoyed with you," she says, then she lets out a heavy sigh.

Her good hand reaches for his, since he lingers and since she really doesn't want him to go, even if it is just down the hall. "I don't want to be alone," she ends up saying, only after a lengthy pause.

Doesn't want to be alone, but soon she'll be wishing she had that ice pack, he knows. But still Mateo nods, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed with her instead of going to get something to help entertain her, or at least lull her into sleep. After all, there is plenty in the room that can help do that. "I can make the ice packs after." After she falls asleep, most likely.

He has no doubt she's exhausted. He settles down on the bed beside her, knowing full well that if she curls up against him the odds of getting up to make the ice pack while she sleeps would be an impossible dream. But if it helps, he'll be there. Even if he knows from experience that she'll be sleeping on her back for a while.

"Thank you," Lynette says, her hand squeezing his just for a moment. It won't be the first time she's slept on an injury with no medication to help her, but it is the first time she will be doing so in a comfortable bed with someone she loves and who loves her going through it with her. It makes a difference— not to the amount of pain or the length of recovery, but to her outlook at least.

And she definitely is exhausted, and the bed is warm, and he's nearby. Even though she tries to stay awake, to stay with him just a little longer, it isn't too long before she can't fight her eyes closing.

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