Participants:
| Scene Title | Apologies Aren't Quite Enough |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | … but it turns out they're not required in this case. Elisabeth finds out that at least one of her team's injuries aren't due to her own stunt. |
| Date | July 26, 2009 |
Ferry Safehouse in Tribeca
Freed of her own injuries, Elisabeth Harrison has several things that require doing. The top priority, to her own mind, is checking up on the two men to whom she caused so much pain and suffering. So far as she knows, no one has located Deckard yet to get him to the safehouse. After raiding Cat's closet once more for clothes that would be presentable in public — a pair of worn jeans and loose green T-shirt with some canvas shoes — Elisabeth makes her way toward home via a stop in Tribeca. She's very careful to make sure she's not followed or being observed as she knocks on the door to the safehouse, and once she's admitted, she starts asking after the injured members of all the teams immediately.
There's a Sicilian kid outside the margined darkness of Leonard's half-closed door. A four-legged chair of age-chapped wood sits against the hallway wall and his shoulder is stiff within a rigid right angle, more because he finds himself uncomfortably awake and in uncomfortable furniture than because of the stern, military self-discipline with which Ghost had conducted himself for months.
There's a plastic Ziploc bag hanging between forefinger and thumb, a few dubious ounces of scrappy, desiccated green vegetation clotting a seam along the bottom, a somewhat absent expression on his face.
Which snaps into focus the moment he hears tread around the corner. "He's asleep," he says aloud, the split moment before Elisabeth's infinitely recognizable face and frame sails around the corner. Then, "Looking good, signorina."
Elisabeth hesitates in the hallway at the sound of Teo's voice, and moves forward more cautiously. "Hi," she offers quietly, keeping her voice down out of deference to those who are still injured. "I won't bother him," she adds. "I just…. needed to see him. Is it… okay to go in?"
"I think so." The light half blocked by Elisabeth's silhouetted head smarts slightly; Teo's left eye squints, making childish exaggeration of his expression when he looks up at her. "He seems to be dreaming about something." Out of context— of the erstwhile ghost's Evolved ability, that probably sounds a little weird, if only a little.
Dropping his gaze back to level, Teodoro turns his bristly-shaven head sidelong to the narrow glimpse through open door. "I'm going to find Deckard. I wish I knew somebody who the old man would want to listen to sooner, but I'll do everything I can. He'll be okay."
Elisabeth blinks and says, "He…. what?" She still hasn't put it together, though she says absently, "Try Richard. And … He might listen to me, I … don't know. I'm not anything to him, but he and I've worked together before." She hesitates and says, "There are a lot of things I need to talk to you about." She shifts her weight uncomfortably. "I don't really know what the hell's going on with you, Teo," she says softly, "but I'm scared for you. Your face is plastered all over the entire metro area."
Richard will be able to convince Flitn Deckard if Teo can't, then. That's better. That's honestly reassuring on some level; only residual in him now is the remains of Ghost's ironclad solitude, the stubborn belief that he had to do every other thing explicitly and exclusively by himself. He settles slightly in his chair, reaches an arm out, sidelong, to nudge the door open further with a push of fingertips.
The dim hallway light falls deeper into the flat dark of Leonard's room and slumber. "It should be better now," he says, a little stiltedly, uncomfortable under Elisabeth's gentle concern the way that a child squirms under the examination of an older woman with a rough sponge aimed at the backs of his ears. "Ghost— uh, the body-jumper who took over this body?" This body; he should have said my, but it's too late now to take it back, so Teo doesn't bother. "Cleared our" Uh. "my name before he left.
"More or less. Charges were dropped, though I'm sure the PD would still love to get Teodoro Laudani in for interrogation. Weird situation." Understatement, but he's just trying to be funny, honestly. He offers the woman a sheepish grin, suddenly a dozen times more the boy she remembers, scuffing his fingernails up the short hair at the base of his head. "Weird couple months."
There's a whimpering noise from the dark bedroom. Like a puppy taken sleeping from its mother's flank. Followed by a gasping intake of breath, and ragged breathing. Not a good day to wake up and be Leonard.
Elisabeth watches Teo quietly as he talks, and she says softly, "I've been out of the loop for a few days. What with melting my throat along with my friends' body parts." The guilt in that statement weight very heavily. "I'd like a better explanation than that, though. A more… complete one." Leo's whimper, though, brings her head whipping around, and she steps into the room trying to keep back both a rush of tears and the urge to be sick all over the floor at what her actions wrought. Would Arthur have done them worse? Hell yes. But that doesn't mean she believes that this is a good alternative either. She moves to the side of Leo's bed and gently smooths back the man's hair. "~Easy~," she whispers quietly, lacing her words with calm for him. He needs all the soothing he can get, he and Cook.
The Sicilian behind Elisabeth hangs back fractionally, but he's there, too, a long-legged silhouette in the doorframe, scowling and irritated by the rough hew of his own size.
It helps a bit….PTSD at least is defused for the moment. His eyes are glassy with pain, but clear, as he peers up at her, offers a very wan smile. "Hey," he says, in a dry whisper. He's not wearing anything save a sheet - not with fever a pale spectre in the room, His left wrist is wrapped in gauze, a mummy's mitt.
Her hand is cool, and Elisabeth moves to get a damp cloth to wipe his face and get him something to drink. "It'll be okay. Soon, okay? The healer will be here soon," she says soothingly. "Just… hang in, okay? You're safe now."
"Where's Teo?" Is the obligatory next question, as the dark gaze roams the room curiously. "I…he was here, wasn't he?" It's almost a plea.
Elisabeth smiles slightly. "He is. I asked him to get some more water," she says to Leo. "But he'll be back in just a minute." She smooths her hand across his forehead. "Is there anything I can get for you?"
"Ice. I'm so damned hot," Leo says, and his voice has that slow Southern drawl, not the Brooklynite accent he affects these days. "I mean, if there is any," He sounds oddly contrite.
Elisabeth smiles gently. "He'll be back with ice water in a moment. I promise." She runs the damp cloth across his face once more. "This is all I have for now. How much pain are you in?"
"Not so much," Leo says, closing his eyes. "Got a lot of drugs in my system….."
Elisabeth nods a bit and continues to bathe his face. "I know. Believe me… I know. The healers are going a bit nuts trying to get to everyone. You and Cook, thouhg….. require a particular healer. We're working on it."
Leonard turns his face gratefully to her touch. "I miss Abby," he says, sounding forlorn. "I got spoiled, having her take care of me."
Elisabeth laughs softly at that. "Yeah… I bet you did," she replies quietly. "She misses the hell out of you too, you know."
"She needs a break, I'm glad she's getting one," Leo murmurs, exhaling slowly.
"She's going to kick my ass when she gets back," Elisabeth admits softly. "I sent her a text and told her that everyone was all right. It's a lie…. but I'm hoping it won't be by the time she gets back." She sighs and keeps stroking his face. "She keeps a room for you, you know."
Elisabeth nods slightly. "Wasn't sure, honestly," she replies with a smile. "Considering I didn't find out who you were til just before we went."
Leonard chuckles, and it's a dry, grating noise. "Yeah. It's….thing's've been fucked up. I shoulda been in better touch."
Elisabeth strokes his hair and says mildly, "Nah. You don't owe me anything. I'd like to think we're …. friends, but… I'm not your confidante. I'm just… someone you've worked with." She continues to move her hand and says softly, "I owe you a huge apology when you're all better."
Leonard peers at her, confused. "Why?" he says, tersely.
"Because I fucked up," Elisabeth replies softly. "I reacted by instinct, and I used an attack that I'd never even attempted before. And I hurt you and Cook and killed Gillian's clone."
"I took a laser beam through my hand, angel. That weren't you," he says, bluntly. "That was Arthur all the way, before you pulped him."
Elisabeth sags a bit, staring at him with something like hope. "Oh god…. really?" His 'angel' appellation brings tears to her eyes, though perhaps that's just the sheer undiluted relief doing it. "Shit," she says softly. "Well… that makes me feel just a little better." Maybe the nightmares will ease off just a little.
Leonard laughs. "Man. No. Not you, I swear," he says, lifting his good hand in that "Scout's Honor" gesture.
Elisabeth chuckles at him softly, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "Is it awful that I feel so relieved that I'm lightheaded?" she asks as she laughs. Then she goes back to bathing his face and neck with the cool washcloth.
"No. Just a mark that you ain't as fucked up as you can be, yet," Leo says, matter of factly. "You got any coca cola 'round here?"
"Oh, I'm pretty damn fucked up, my friend," Liz tells him quietly as she tries to help him cool down. "But maybe the nightmares won't be quite so bad tonight."
Leonard is a sweating lump, under nothing but a sheet. "I hope so. I get 'em, still. I been so drugged I haven't broke anything these last few nights, though."
There's tread in the hall, not quite familiar, a cross between inculcated stealth and Teodoro's old football thug habit of slouching or swaggering around like his legs aren't properly attached. He brings cold water, a fat pitcher with condensation gathering in a velvety silvered sheen down the outside, two glasses. Crossing the room, he sets them down on the plastic endtable by Leonard's side. Pours one glass, hands it off to Elisabeth— though his easy assumption is that she wouldn't drink it, herself, before starting the other.
Helping Leo more upright, Elisabeth helps the man drink the water. "Here…. have this. It'll make you feel better." At least a little bit. She glances over her shoulder at Teo and murmurs softly, "If you can't get to Deckard by the morning, tell Cat." Whatever it was they gave her — and she's not saying one way or the other what she suspects it was — there might be enough to fix this. Elisabeth's, after all, wasn't nearly as bad.
Leonard smiles at Teo, happily, though even that is shadowed with pain. "Caro," he says, as Liz helps him up. Grateful for the water, though even sitting upright hurts.
It's possible that Teo has suspicions (Teo is a rather suspicious character, really—) but he thinks better than to question that, to demand elaboration, even where Leonard is concerned. He simply nods his head, acknowledging Elisabeth's request with a steady stare. Squints slightly when Leonard makes his effort in Italian, then there's a crooked half a smile. He leans back on the wall. The unspent weed has, by now, been tucked away and out of sight.
Elisabeth helps him settle back down and leans down once more to kiss Leo's temple. "I'm gonna leave you alone here with the weed freak," she says, giving Teo a Look guaranteed to make the younger Teo squirm. There more than one reason her classrooms were under control. Though she's mostly amused about it. She looks back at Leo. "I wanted to see you, that's all. You've put my mind more at ease than I've put yours, I'm sure. But … poke your head in when you've got the time…." She smiles gently at him. "And in case I forgot to mention in all the hullaballoo…. new look is cute." She strokes his hair once more and then excuses herself. She wants to pay a visit to Cook as well, only to learn he's no longer at the safehouse.
Leonard smiles docilely at Liz. "Thanks. The doc does good work, huh?" he says, blinking dreamily at the both of them. "I will. We'll talk more, when things are peaceful."