Scene Title Khargosh
Synopsis A visitor arrives…
Date June 19, 2019

Shahid Khan's Apartment

Pacing around his apartment, Shahid “Shaw” Khan has known for several years what it has been like to be confined in walled spaces. To be restricted. Bound. Captured. The authorities who rescued him from the hands of the Institute had told him he was freed. But freedom, as they say, comes at a cost.

Some would have said that ever since he’d woken from his comatose state to find out his parents had perished in a horrific car accident, that was when he’d been locked away. The years that followed that saw him move to New York City to live with his aunt and uncle and their family narrowed the space down to a cramped apartment. Then the bomb blew it to pieces, and sent him into a hole. He’d just been crawling out of it, too, finding himself enjoying the open spaces, a freer life and mind, before the demons came and dragged him back into a terrible, dark and dismal hell.

And what does he have to show for emerging from that hell? Restless energy. The paperwork he’d been given to study, to catch him up on what had happened in his absence from the modern world, has gone largely untouched and been left on the coffee table in the common room. His pacing route hasn’t taken him back near them, not since he’d read up to the part about the 2nd Civil War. The reasons for it. The results of it. He need only look out the windows of the apartment to see the restoration that has taken place, to see the denizens of Red Hook moving around. And to see the nondescript guards that have been watching the apartment to make sure the residents within are safe. And contained.

Which brings him back to the familiar, if barely comforting, feeling of pacing out his stress by practically promenading around the room’s walls and general interior space. When he stops again in his paces, it’s with the accompanying strange feeling of… hunger? Thirst? Either way, the man lifts his fingers to his temples to rub in tight circles, even as he slowly makes his way to the apartment kitchen area.

Across the street, a figure crouches on a crumbling building, an old spyglass held up to her face. It's been months hunting down Shahid Khan after his rescue from Institute custody. And delivered into SESA custody. Which was very annoying.

Vör's gaze follows Shaw's pacing across his apartment. It was her last step— confirmation. Now that he's in her sights, she can hardly believe it. And with any hunt, she takes a few long moments to savor a job well done and a mission about to come to an end. Usually a messy end. She lets out a long sigh. And disappears from the rooftop.


She appears in Shaw's living room, behind him as he stalks to the kitchen. She stalks after him. A kitchen is a little more enclosed, generally, which she counts as a good thing. He passes into the room and she slips into place in the doorway. She watches, seeing him prowl for something missing. But he won't be missing much in a moment, not if she has her way.

"Shahid," she says, out of nowhere to interrupt his solitude. She just loves that moment of surprise before she closes in. It's her favorite thing.

The kitchen forms a dead end, the base of the U being a small one-drain sink more meant for a camper than an apartment. The cabinetry also stock product, laminate countertops, four burner stove, all meant to be fast produced and cheap builds. But liveable. Shahid runs his hand over the fake gray granite countertop, a part of him already distanced as he reaches for an ability… that is not there.

His brow pinches, hand tense, unaware of the displacement of air when Vör appears. It's her voice that freezes him in place for those precious seconds of surprise. He squeezes his eyelids shut as if it might shut out the voice and dismiss it like a hallucination. But an exhale of breath later, eyes open and he turns to look over his shoulder.

And her patience is rewarded with utter flabbergasted surprise. Shahid's expression of shock doesn't begin to cover the gasp of breath in. As if it were his last, and he died right there on his feet.

That surprise gets a smile— wide and self-satisfied— and Vör savors it for just a moment. "Found you," she says in a sing-song voice as she starts forward. One step is steady, but then she can't help herself and she rushes in his direction. She takes his face between her hands and her lips crush to his. The embrace lingers, as if she were making sure this was all real, too, and her arms slide around his neck as she backs him into the counter.

When she finally leans back again, she only goes far enough to be able to look him in the eye. "I never thought I'd see you again."

For that one step she takes closer, his brow arches questioning the intent. Had he any doubt of her existence then, though, it evaporates under the heat with which he embraces her kiss. All that was forgotten comes rushing back to Shahid’s head and swiftly beating heart. His hands find their way to her waist, clinging on to her hips as much to steady her as it is to keep himself close.

“I can’t believe it,” he whispers as he feels the fabric of her shirt. “How did you find me, Little Rabbit?” A hand lifts away from her hip but only to brush the tops of his knuckles against her hair and her cheek. His hand comes to rest over one of hers holding his face. “You must've searched every hole you could find.” And at the thought of her searching for him, he’s moved yet again to kiss her, pushing away from the countertop towards her.

Vör leans into his knuckles, eyes closing to savor his touch. His question gets a warm smile and she looks over at him, eyes glistening. But if she's going to cry, at least it's over something good. Something great. "I'm sorry it took so long," she says, her thumb running over his cheek. "But now I'm taking you home," she says, the last word muffled under his kiss.

She doesn't mind being interrupted, though, and her hand moves from his face to cling onto his shoulder. The kiss draws out, and it's increasingly obvious that she would mind them getting even closer. "Is there anything here you need?" she asks as she attempts to catch her breath.

Home. The word is so much more than four letters and a definition. The concept of home had long been shattered for the man, crushed into a powder, drained away with his freedom. It's a thought that sours him enough that their kiss is interrupted by it. He pulls back - enough she can ask him about material needs - and pulls in a breath as well while he takes a mental stock.

The papers on the tiny circular dining table. Nope. The clothes they'd provided him. He could get others. Shahid smirks as a thought crosses his mind and he ponders aloud, teasing, "Probably should take my toothbrush. They aren't going to use it." Not that he's in a rush to get out of her grasp just now.

Vör's hands rest on his cheeks, as if she might be able to erase his darker thoughts with her touch. But now they have all the time he needs to recover from what he's been through. It isn't likely that she'll be letting him out of her sight any time soon.

His answer gets a laugh, bright and amused, and she leans back in to wrap him in a hug. "We'll get you a new one," she says, and with a glance to the window, the pair disappear from the apartment, hopping across the city to somewhere safe. Somewhere that can be home.

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