In A Place With Love


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Scene Title In A Place With Love
Synopsis A guilty Isabelle confesses to being responsible for Magnes' death, and Shaw forgives. As love ought.
Date November 20, 2014

East Harlem, Shaw's Apartment

A skinny layout studio apartment located in East Harlem. Sparsely furnished affair with a queen sized bed dominating the far wall as the apartment's main focal point.

«Reports are still coming in of the bombing of Pinehearst Tower three days ago, where sources say the bomber was affiliated with anti-Evolved terrorist organization Humanis First…»

Fingers creep out to turn off the radio, the alarm set to a news talk public station. It's early enough in his day that Shaw decides he has time for food. A marvel concept even after years of plenty. Where he's made his home is a modest, intimate apartment in East Harlem, living an unassuming life compared to the craziness of years previous. The bed is the biggest piece of furniture in it, dominating the far wall, shoved under the window that watches the activities of the world outside. Where each day, Shaw can wake up and see daylight. A marvel concept even after years of sunshine and no fear of catching a deadly virus. He rolls over to the sprawl of hair beside his pillow, to the woman attached to said strands, and lays his head close. When he's not close enough, he scoots a little closer.

"Eanqa'," he whispers softly, "Are you awake?" She'd come back into town just recently, to bad news. Shaw felt bad about it too, but there hadn't been much talking done between them since.

Isabelle is indeed awake.

Her hazel eyes in a lidded gaze towards the window. A tear rolls down her cheek slowly but she doesn't move to wipe it away, she doesn't wanna breathe too much. The silence was nice, the guilt along with words from other people drowning out her sense of being. She was lost but Shaw's touch and whisper makes her sniff and smile weakly, "I'm up Shahid," snuggling back into his arms while still staring out at the window, into the light.

She feels the shadows though, just on the edges of her vision. The empty bottle of her moonshine laying there on the ground near the corner of the bed. "I…" she stops herself and Isabelle just draws out a ragged breath. "I'm so sorry." And then the sobbing starts.

What he didn't know, but could see the guilt in her eyes and the drop of her shoulders when they'd first reunited, was her sense of responsibility in it. Her role in playing the part in the mess that rocked the city. Shaw, like so many who had survived trauma, had learned to push it away and favor the present good.

As she snuggles backwards to him, he wraps his arms around her beneath the light sheet, an attempt made to comfort her as she cries. He presses a light but lingering kiss to her hair. "It's okay. Did you sleep at all?" It's the first question that shows he's a little worried for her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Ah fuck Shahid," Izzy groans at his good nature, his love. It's engulfing her, making her feel good and she doesn't believe she deserves that in her life. Not after what she did.

She still holds onto Shaw's arms as he embraces her and Izzy closes her eyes as he kisses her hair, her sobbing soon subsiding so that she can think if she even wants him to know this. The brunette thought he would shun her, she had done the ultimate evil in betraying her best friend and.. cousin? "I.. I made the bombs that killed Magnes." The omission is soft and Isa gasps as she says it, it's real. "I got my other self in this world thrown into prison, my sister on the run. Ruined my brother in law's life by going to ask for answers in California. I'm a shit person, I'm not sure how you stand the sight of me."

Patiently, he waits for her to regain her composure and gives her another squeeze. Upon her confession to all the deeds done, she doesn't get much of a reply at first. Only the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back.

It's not that he had fallen asleep. It's the news that she delivers of her deeds, the ultimate results of her missions and outings, the revelations. He's got to process. "What… happened?" The question comes out slowly, because he doesn't quite understand the full extent of the impact of it. But he releases her, propping himself up a bit to sit up more. Shaw looks over, and his dark eyes and furrowed brow hold no judgment, just a curiosity, seeking to understand the situation. "Your other self… your sister, brother in law, they're all still alive? And Magnes, how come he was where your bomb was?"

It's not a question of why she was making bombs… but rather, where they were used. The worry in Shaw's expression comes from a place of concern for her safety. "Who… were the bombs supposed to be for?"

"I went out West Coast.. I wanted to find Thalia.. I found her husband instead. The cops showed up, I drove a car away but they catching up fast and Hiro fucking the time traveler showed up and brought me to his dad Kaito and from there.. well they trained me to use my ability." She's honest in her delivery and she sits up herself to sit opposite of him with her hands laid down on her sides.

"I.. I learned how to do chemical engineering right? On the side of the art stuff.." The various glass pieces she blew sitting around the tiny apartment. "How to make things explode, I've been helping the Guardians for a while now. I was angry at Pinehearst, the government.. I just didn't want to drag you in this I'm so sorry Shahid." Izzy scoots closer and puts a hand on his leg, "They weren't honest with me, Magnes was working on Looking Glass a way for him to get back home. Kaito didn't want that apparently." Her free hand going to tangle her brown in fingers, "I was shocked to learn they attacked.. the lab Magnes was in."

She was stupid and she feels stupid. "I'm a fucking idiot."

As always when Shaw senses a story to be told, he stills and listens intently. His eyes widen slightly as she talks about the cops showing up, stealing a squad car, about time-traveling Hiro Nakamura and his father. “I saw. You practiced, a lot. And you had, um, bruises,” he says quietly with a look towards the spots on her where she couldn’t see them, but he could.

When she goes on to reveal she had gone on to learn bombs, he flattens along the line of his mouth in thought. “It’s okay,” he concludes once he’s had a chance to turn things over. “I’m glad you’re okay. Not blown up. You could have, but you’re smart, clever. You didn’t explode.”

He glances down to her hand on his leg, moving his own to cover it. “No, Eanqa’, you’re not,” Shaw rejects of her self-deprecation, brows furrowed at the reveal of Magnes being in the explosion. “But…” He starts, pauses, frowns. “This is home, now,” he utters in a soft statement that suddenly lacks confidence. Dark eyes lift, gaze searching Izzy’s. “Isn’t it?” He blinks, worry seeping into his expression. That maybe she didn’t like it there either, in the small apartment.

A dry laugh escapes the older woman as Shaw proclaims her smarts and cleverness and she stares out of the window with a deep breath held in, she didn't feel smart or clever or like a good friend. Not like a good person. Isabelle's hand tightens around Shaw's and she notices the nerves in him, how he tentatively asks the question of if this was home. It wasn't home for her anymore, this apartment with Shaw was the only place she felt safe. Staring her man in the eyes she nods slowly, the motion becoming more determined as she does. "Of course this is home Shahid, anywhere we're together is home. You got that?" Said gently, a warm hand goes to cup Shaw's cheek.

"I won't let anything happen to you. We're home." She lies, knowing they have to get out of this place, this paradise of a timeline. Their best life since leaving their home with the Virus.

"Addie will never know her father.. thanks to me. Not truly," Her sobs start back up.

Sensing her discomfort, Shaw leans against her hand against his cheek, eyes closing briefly against her warmth. She’s always warm, and yet interestingly never hot or at least not bothered by heat. But that doesn’t mean she’s not bothered by other things, like the chilling idea of having been instrumental to the murder of their friend. And so, as if to gently coax the fire back, he then draws his other hand around her waist, angling his head so his cheek rests on her trembling shoulder.

“But maybe,” Shaw murmurs between her mournful cries, “we can be her auntie and uncle, and she’ll not miss him too much. Like… like how it was with me. When I went to stay with my aunt and uncle, after…” He wets his lips nervously for a moment as he recalls a flash of the car accident that claimed his parents and almost him as well, staring towards the rest of the apartment instead of her face. That he braves actually driving around in the hectic city streets is a feat he’s overcome.

“Addie is younger than I was,” he adds in afterthought, not finishing the previous bit, and reaches up to brush a hand along her tear streaked cheeks. “She’s going to be ok. And so are you.” At least he’s not angry with her, not accusing her of having done anything horrible despite her confessions, despite having known the whole time of her training that she’d been off doing more or less nefarious deeds in the name of resistance.

Shaw's attempts to console succeed in making the woman smile more and she caresses her hand with her own, "Well you turned out lovely so I guess we can't do half bad with her." She had already pledged to herself that she would help Elaine raise Addie, no matter what. The pyro turns and looks finally at her lover, friend, confidante and presses a hand against his chest, eyes burning with guilt but seeking a place to run to, a place that Shaw has held open for her time and time again.

Snuggling in close she allows her nose to rest on his chest, breathing in the scent of him as she nods slowly at first but it picks up speed as she begins to believe it more. "Okay, I'll be fine." She had fucked up a lot. Her other selves life, Magnes', her own, Brenda's. Isa clings to Shaw though as she whisper, "I'm going to hell for sure now if I wasn't already." She suspects she was already.

His hand reaching up to cradle her head against him, Shaw tucks a lock of her dark hair back and in another movement grabs for a couple of extra pillows that he tucks against them. "Hell is a place without love," he counters her argument, fingers running lightly through her hair and down the back of her neck. "And, you would burn up the handbaskets they try to put you in." The attempt at humor follows with a pause, but then he bends to press a kiss to the top of her head. The gesture meant to be comforting, warm in its feeling. "We're going to be okay," he speaks into her hair, rubbing his hand along her in a gentle, soothing massage along the tension of her neck and shoulders. "After some breakfast," he says quietly.

But after a pause, he says, "Maybe it'll be brunch."

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