Where You Left Me


colette_icon.gif kaylee2_icon.gif sable_icon.gif tasha_icon.gif

Scene Title Where You Left Me
Synopsis Colette asks Kaylee to remove the Amp created block in Sable's head. It works, but at a cost to the telepath.
Date September 22, 2010

Gun Hill: Colette and Tasha's Apartment

There may not be a banner hanging up to alert Gun Hill that Colette Nichols is home from her trip, but word spreads through the apartment building as fast as an uncontrolled fire. That her red and white dirt-bike is still chained up in the lobby means that she hasn't gone to work, and the truth of the mater is more than likely implying that she isn't intending on going to work any time in the near future.

A borrowed, plum-colored tanktop bares the young girl's shoulders to the cool air of the apartment, black track pants with white stripes down the side are wrinkled and creased, mismatched socks keep her feet warm in the chilly apartment.

Sitting on the sofa, blinds drawn down and knees up to her chest, Colette could perhaps be handling her post-traumatic stress a little better than she is at present. Cell phone cradled in her hands, Colette stares down at the coffee table and the scattered text books and notebooks strewn out on it, Tasha's college homework that should have already been in her bag, should have already been out the door and to school. Instead, Tasha Oliver is here in apartment 404 of Gun Hill on a Tuesday morning.

It's not that Colette is a bad influence on people, but she does inspire bad decisions.

Waiting for the phone in her hands to ring, Colette listens for the telltale sound of feet approaching the apartment door, listens for the sound of a knock, anything to signal that Kaylee is anywhere nearby. If ever there was someone close to Colette that could also pass for her therapist, it would be Kaylee Thatcher.

Unfortunately, Kaylee's running a little late.

Peeking glances now and then around the corner from the kitchen, Tasha is giving Colette the space she asked for, not asking questions unless information is offered, and generally present to make sure that Colette knows she is there for her, physically and emotionally. Being in Greenwich at the Parsons School makes the first impossible. The latter is being dealt with through comfort food, which is why Tasha is in the kitchen baking chocolate chip cookies to go with the hugs and kisses doled out more than usual — which is saying a lot, given the pair's penchant for affections.

The first batch of cookies has cooled sufficiently to eat without burning one's tongue. Tasha peeks out from behind the wall again, to be sure she's not interrupting a phone call, before stepping out with a plateful of fresh cookies and a tall glass of milk. It's not the healthiest of breakfasts, but emotional wellbeing is more important than fiber and vitamin C at this moment.

Wearing her wellworn Ramones t-shirt and a pair of cut-off shorts, despite the chilly apartment, Tasha pads on bare feet into the living room, setting the plate and glass in front of Colette before flopping on the couch. "No answer?"

Last Sable heard, Colette had been doing seven impossible things before breakfast, which breakfast, let us note, was a leg slug to the stomach. Lost in time, her safety guaranteed second hand and by a man Sable has never met, Colette's well being and very life has been held in a state of Schroedinger uncertainty. Can you guess how anxious Sable has felt?

In truth, the very ridiculousness of the whole situation, insofar as Sable's limited understanding is able to grasp it, has kept total blitzed out panic at bay. It would be like if someone had told her Colette had been abducted by aliens. Someone very reliable, but still… aliens? Really? And there actually is no doubt as to the truth of what did happen in Sable's mind, just that she can't understand what it must necessarily entail. If someone gets shot in the past, but as their present self, does what happened in the past carry over when you come back to the present or… yeah, she just has no idea how it works. Tamara's ability she was able to get a handle on, but this backwards crap…

The instant, therefore, that Sable learns that Colette is back, all the anxiety that was held in abeyance comes rushing straight out, a chemical dump to her brain that has her up out of her door and bounding down towards the door to 404. She should be comforted, but now all of her fears and doubts are set against a backdrop of reality rather than pure, unsubstantiated fantasy. She can find out what happened. And that is always so scary.

But Sable is not one to flee from her fears. At least not when her affections are involved. In love always charging ahead, like the Light Brigade. Often just as successful. Colette will hear the sound of feet against floor before the knock that follows. A frantic beat to both that doesn't sound like Kaylee, because it isn't.

Practically jumping out of her seat at the knock on the door, Colette flashes a quick look to Tasha and a warm smile, then moves briskly on socked feet across the hardwood floor over to the door. "I'm home, I'm home,, s— sorry, hold on." Sliding the chain away from the door and unlocking the deadbolt and doorknob, Colette swings the door open while she's looking back to Tasha with a smile, unaware of what's being revealed to her in the doorway.

When Colette's stare sweeps back to the doorway, there's a slow dawning expression of abuh on her face when she sees Sable's skinny silhouette, but that her eyes tear up on seeing golden irises is perhaps not the immediate reaction to her presence that Sable would have wanted, nor is the look of panic and anxiety dawning on Colette's face.

There's so much going on in her head right now, Kaylee is likely fortunate that she's not here to be bombarded with it.

The scramble on socked feet for the door makes Tasha grin just a little, the smile on Colette's face as she glances back at her pulling a huge smile from the shorter brunette. When she sees before Colette does who is there, she hurries forward to Colette's side, slipping an arm around her waist and hugging her tightly.

"Hey, Sable," Tasha says warmly, her dark eyes studying Colette's tearful gaze, then looking back to Sable apologetically — her own eyes shimmer with the threat of tears, her emotions always seeming to be an echo of Colette's.

Those tearful eyes move back to Colette, questioningly as she searches Colette's face. "Do you feel okay for guests? I'm sure Sable can come back if you need to rest more." Tasha's voice is soft, gentle, the question as diplomatic as she can make it, especially since she doesn't know what happened in the past.

Despite Tasha's deft attempt to give Colette the option of some space, Sable is clearly disinterested in allowing the option. To be fair, she kind of doesn't hear Tasha as more than a distant-radio murble of sound. Her entire sensory array is focused exclusively on Colette, firstly in vision, an up down, up down check to see if everything is where she remembers it being. Then a very sudden tactile engagement.

In simple language, Sable hops right across the threshold and swings her arms around Colette in a rather desperate looking hug. It's not a cling, or even a grasp. It is, in fact, distinctly motherly in a way that occasional asserts itself when Sable isn't watching herself. A hug that says 'don't you go nowhere, now'. Scent and the ghost of taste are added as Sable turns her head and presses a kiss against Colette's hair.

The last sense, hearing, is up to Colette, but Sable gives her encouragement. She leads the way with her words. "Oh, darlin'," she says, mouth angling over to speak softly by Colette's ear, "you don' even know… y' dunno… Jesus I dunno what it is t' have y' back. Thank you, darlin'. Thank you." Her gratitude sounds high grade, heartfelt. "F'r goin' back, 'n' f'r comin' back. Thank you."

Tasha can feel Colette's back tense the moment Sable leaps at her, fear in her eyes more than surprise or amusement. In the embrace, Colette can find no control of her arms to return it. So she just stands there awkwardly stiff, staring unblinkingly ahead as the tipf of her fingers and portions of her leg swirl like paint idstilled in water, half disappearing from sight, as if she was reflexively trying to turn invisible to hide whatever trauma is happening inside of her head. That Tasha still has an arm around Colette is probably the only thing anchoring her from recoiling away entirely.

After a few long, awkward moments in silence, Colette's arms lift up, hands ever so subtly reaching down to Sable's back, lightly patting. For all that she wants to seem unphased, Colette's eyes have wholly welled up with tears, spilling down her cheeks in equal progression to dribble off the end of her chin. "You remember?" is Colette's point of misunderstanding, and that her voice is a tight squeak betrays the emotions she'd been trying so hard to keep in place.

There is an audible swallow of worry from Tasha at Colette's response, or lack of, though she nods when the girl finally reaches up to pat Sable. "See? Everything's okay. She's the same Sable. Everything's fine," Tasha murmurs, her voice soft like one used to soothe a frightened animal. Her eyes go to Sable's face to watch for any recognition of what Colette is worried about, to see if Sable has changed in any discernible way.

If she'd changed, how bad can it be? She's still here, still at Gun Hill, still apparently friends with Colette and Tasha. She lets go of Colette to go shut the door, before dogs escape, then leans against the door to study the two women, her face contorted by fret and worry.

Colette's voice is all she needed, and given that, Sable eases back to a more comfortable distance, hands going to clasp behind her back. She shakes her head. "Naw, don't figure that I do. But Elaine told me sorta whatall happened," her brow furrows, "'t least, I think she did. Sorta sounded a bit confused 'n' I dunno how much 'f it made any goddamn sense, but what I did know f'r certain is that y' took a goddamn bullet f'r me," and from her, as a matter of fact, "'n' since hearin' I've been worried half t' death when I c'n even get m' head 'round whatall y' were up to. So… seein' y' here… puts me at ease."

Sable's eyes flick up to Tasha as she's patted, the musician giving the artist a feckless smile. "Same as same," Sable concurs, looking back to Colette, sticking out her hands, palms down, offering to take Colette's, too close last time to notice the disappearing act her last forthright show of affection elicited, "nothin's gonna change my world, darlin'. And damn but if what does make every bit of sense that it w's you 'n' she that saw me safe…" yes, sense is exactly what it makes in Sableworld, "knowin' without knowin' th' debt I owed y'. That 't was you that set me on th' path that brought me here."

Her hands turn over, palms upward now, the gesture growing more open. "Only have t' apologize. Ain't pretty t' see me at such tender years. Jesus…" she lifts a brow, "did y' smack me any? Guessin' I deserved it, little shit I recall bein'."

When the call had come through Kaylee had been a little stunned to see the number on her phone. Unfortunately, she couldn't get to her friends apartment any sooner then now. In her black pink rhinestoned Harley-Davidson tanktop and worn jeans. Her black biker books making a distinct sound on the hallway floor, of course, with the others distracted, the first thing they probably hear is the soft knock of knuckles against the door.

Next thing is the brush of something mentally, each person getting that touch. Okay, so Kaylee is a touch paranoid.

Tucking tips of her fingers into the pockets of her jeans, Kaylee waits for the door. A small smile touches her lips, cause boy… Kaylee has news for Colette, too.

There's a lot happening all at once, and the knock on the door that is undoubtedly from Kaylee has Colette tensing up and offering a nervous smile. If ever there was a person she needed to see right now, it was the one friend she knows can help put her head back on straight when she gets tangled up. Unfortunately, Colette has no capability to do anything like open the door, even as close as she is. With no one holding her now, Colette takes two shaky steps forward towards Sable, then stops, backpedals and wraps her arms around herself. Lifting up one hand to her eyes, Colette shakes her head and sucks back a wet breath, exasperatedly laughing out of sheer nerves alone.

"It— it wasn't nothin'," she murmurs with the heel of her palm rubbing against one eye, "I didn't— do— much." The halting cadence of her voice and dismissive tone comes from embarrassment. It's hard to tell what emotion is making Colette cry, but that she is would be impossible to hide.

"Can you let Kaylee in?" comes with a croaking quality of her voice, and turning her back on both Tasha and Sable, Colette makes a quick beeline towards the bathroom, determined to compose herself before the oldest of all her friends — in both age and tenure — sees her like this.

Took a bullet for me. Those are the words that echo in Tasha's head as she stares at Sable, then turns to look at Colette, her eyes tearing up with shock and fear and not a little bit of hurt. But Colette is already retreating, leaving her to open the door to Kaylee, and with no time or space to compose herself before doing so.

"Wha-" she begins, but shakes her head, reaching up to wipe her eyes. She glances at Sable and smiles apologetically — apologies on behalf of Colette and apologies for her own tears — then nods to the living room. "Go sit and eat some damn cookies," Tasha whispers, trying to make a joke of it, before turning to open the door, stepping aside to let Kaylee in.

"Hi, Kaylee," she says softly, then tips her head to invite the tall blonde in. "C'mon in. You want some coffee? Water? Milk? There's cookies." Playing hostess might keep her from breaking down entirely.

Sable watches the approach, her eyes charting the possibility of further advancement before perceiving, in the instant Colette changes her trajectory, her intentions too. This is not registered consciously. It's something Sable just knows, a silent language of the body she can translate without realizing it. The yellow eyed girl crosses the space, both untaken and relinquished, reaching out to cup Colette's face in her hands. The touch of her fingertips is light, and is accompanied by a gentle peer and a tilt of the head. Sable can see what goes on without with ease. What goes on within… it's as much a mystery to her as to all the other non-telepaths.

"Yer under orders t' accept my gratitude," Sable says, with faux-sterness, "'n' t' think well 'f yerself f'r earnin' it. That ain't negotiable, dig?" But then Colette's gone, course leading bathroom-ward. Her 'digging' is uncertain. But what is Sable to expect. Her arms fall to her sides and she turns on heel to look at the door as Tasha goes to open it. "Naw, can't eat after makin' a girl cry," she replies to the artist as she passes, "I'll take a beer if y' got one, though." Her gaze flicks back to Colette, or rather the doorway through which Colette is disappearing, then redirects her gaze to blonde in the doorway.

"Evenin'," is Sable's greeting, probably a good deal more sedate than any Kaylee has received from her before, accompanied by a vague sort of two fingered salute. Again, her eyes flick back to the bathroom door. A moment's hesitation, and then she is jogging over in that direction. The ajarness of the door is, to a nosey parker like Sable, all the invitation she needs. She shoulders her way in, letting her body bump the door open just enough to permit her. A grip on the knob lets her lean over, balancing on one foot, peering.


When the door opens, Kaylee's eyes are narrowed slightly, rather suspiciously at Tasha. Huh. Is what her expression conveys, but then it quickly fades and a smile touches her lips, "Hey Tasha." The tall blonde steps into the apartment, eyes lingering on the woman at the door for a moment.

"Ah… water would be nice." Kaylee says softly, brows dropping a little with curiosity, but she doesn't ask the obvious question. Rather then inquiring into if everything is alright — obviously something is wrong or she wouldn't be here — she moves further into the apartment.

Her attention shifts into the apartment attention landing on Sable briefly. "Ah… hey there… Sable." Kinda awkward, but at least Sable moves away, allowing Kaylee a moment to breath. Turning to Tasha, her head tilts a little. "I.. was kind of surprised she called me." Brows tick down a bit, "Life getting all crazy for both of us and all." Head turning a bit, the telepath glances at the bathroom with concern, her voice dropping slightly for Tasha only. "How is she?"

Across the apartment, Sable is finding out just how good Colette is doing from the sound of a sob abruptly cut off the moment Sable's voice carries into the bathroom. Colette is terrible about turning lights on, but that she's in the bathroom in the dark isn't as pathetic sounding as it actually is when her ability is taken into account. Her ovice in the dark is hoarse sounding, she's been crying a lot lately.

"It's morning," Colette rageddly corrects in teasing tone, swallowing audibly as she leans subtly against the bathroom door, finding Sable's body holding it open. When the musician's eyes adjust to the lack of light except that coming in through the door behind her, she finds Colette hunched on the other side of the door, one hand on her face, barely more than silhouette in the dark. Sliding her tongue over her lips, when she looks up to see Sable, there's a hitch of her steady breathing.

"M'really sorry," is a small apology in smaller voice, "I— it was really— " there's a hiccupped sob as Colette covers her eyes with one hand and leans away from the door, slouching forward over the sink. In the dark, it's not as easy to see how red her eyes are or how much snot is slicking her uper lip. The walls still look neon pink though, even in the dark. Adorably garish juxtaposed against depressing.

The small teen gives Kaylee a woeful glance before she turns to head into the kitchen to grab a glass from a cupboard. "You probably know better than me," Tasha mutters, tears spilling past her thick lashes and onto her cheeks as she heads to the refrigerator, pushing the glass against the ice dispenser and then the water, letting it fill as she takes a deep breath. Her right hand wipes futilely at her cheeks, trying to hide the tears before she brings the glass back to Kaylee.

"Not good. But I don't know anything," Tasha says, offering the glass of ice water and retreating to the sofa, curling bare legs under herself and picking up one of the art books. One balled fist comes up to lie against her bare throat, to hide the scars there that normally she covers if heading out of the apartment.

Sable has to come down on both feet before sliiiding into the bathroom and nudging the door shut with her hip. There's just the briefest of pauses, standing with her back to the closed door, in which Sable considers asking if Colette would rather be left alone. But she's already made her intrusion, and, unknowing of the extent of Colette's ability, to her being alone dark is just much too depressing. Anyone who would inflict this upon themselves has limited say on the handling of their own grief. Or so the justification goes.

This said, she doesn't flick on the lights. The dark itself is really only the frosting the grim cake (or maybe the paint on the walls is the frosting? bad metaphor, anyways…). It's the being alone that is the real problem, and much as solitude is desired, Sable knows too well what it means to get it when in such a state. Emotional ups and downs are about as familiar to the ex-vagrant as bad methods for handling them. In darkness, then, Sable moves over behind Colette, hands reaching to find the porcelain on either side, leaning first this way, then that, trying to catch Colette's mismatched eyes in the mirror. She gives up after a moment, though, hands sliding together as she gives the photokinetic a loose hug from behind, head tipping forward to bump at her shoulder.

"Y' don't think I know it's mornin'?" Sable replies, with a gruffness that is just as serious as her previous sternness, "but dark enough in here, ain't it?" She rises up on her feet enough to set her chin on Colette's shoulder, perching as a piratical parrot might. "No sorry's, hon. What I heard… I know it musta been hell. I can't even imagine. But y' need t' know, however little I know… how much it means. I may be addlebrained. In fact, it's a certainty. But… since b'fore I had a soul t' speak 'f, I've owed y' everythin'. 'n' that makes everythin' make sense," her arms close properly, giving Colette a small squeeze, "believe that. I beg y'.

"Now…" Sable says, trying again to catch the reflection of Colette's eyes, "y've got yer love and this gorgeous blonde I've seen 'round sometimes, waitin' on y' out there. How's 'bout y' let 'em take care 'f you?"

The glass is taken and only held for a moment, Kaylee just… stands there watching the people around her in more then one way. Her eyes follow Tasha all the way to the sofa, teeth lightly chew on the inside of her lip in thought. Finally, the telepath moves, the glass is set down near Tasha, then hand then drifts to touch her shoulder, before giving it a squeeze. There is a reassuring smile, before she lets her hand slide away and she turns her attention on the bathroom.

Brows furrow as she moves closer to the bathroom, reinforcing her mind against the typical assault of Colette's mental thoughts. It might be intruding, but… Colette? There is a gentleness to the name as it brushes through the young girls head. Blue eyes stare at that closed door, brows tilted up in worry.

Despite time and the distance they kept after the raid, what happened between her and Colette has stuck with the telepath. It puts a warmth in the words that touch the other girl's mind, Kaylee's feelings haven't changed about one of the first true friends she had in a long time… not really. Her head tilts forward, eyes dropping to the floor. I'm here, always have been. Always just a floor or two away… a phone call. Talk to me? It whispers softly in Colette's head.

Kaylee's intrusion into Colette's mind doesn't go unnoticed. But the response is half-hearted.

I'm fine.

It's not entirely a lie, either.

Exhaling a ragged sob mixed with a laugh where she's hunched over in the bathroom, Sable manages to draw out a smile from Colette, even if something of a rueful one. Swallowing noisily, she leans back against Sable, moving one hand down to rest on one of the musician's arms that's wrapped around her. "Maybe," is all Colette has to say in response at first, and it's hard to tell in what manner any of that is even implied.

Turning around in Sable's arms, Colette slides one of hers around the other girl's waist, letting her forehead come to knock lightly against Sable's brow. "Kaylee's here for you, actually…" Colette whispers due to their close proximity. "I mean— because I called her." Fingers curl into Sable's tanktop and Colette presses her nose to the brunette's, "I shouldn't have called her, it— it was a bad idea."

Letting that arm around Sable's waist slack, Colette leans subtly away from her, turning her head to look towards the bathroom door. "Tasha didn't know I'd been shot…" is a quiet admission in the dark, like some sort of shampoo-scented confessional booth, Father Diego makes a rather ramshackle priest too.

"S'not your fault, I— should've told her. I just— I didn't want 'er t'worry." As she turns to face Sable again, Colette offers an unseen smile in the dark, then a breathy and somewhat exasperated laugh. "We shared a motel room bed," she says with all seriousness, "you're— little military wannabe self. I dunno when you turned into such a lech," comes with a more honest laugh, "but you were a— gentleman? Sweetheart? I— " she bubbles with laughter, snorting back a sniffle as she wipes at her eyes, then reaches for a handful ot toilet paper to blow her nose with. "You weren't a lech."

It's only then that Kaylee hears further from Colette, her voice clear as day in that conscious effort of mental verbiage. I'm gonna' be okay I'm just… what happened shook me up, and seeing Sable was hard. I'll be okay, I'm coming out, I just look like a mucus factory and it's so unattractive and I don't want Tasha to see me like this but the coffee smells good and I missed you I'm sorry I haven'tcalledweneedtohangoutsometimewhenyouhavetime—



She's gotta get used to that again.

For all that Sable has complained of Colette's closeness, her habit of tender little gestures and contacts that might confuse or confound the mostly-formerly-besotted, she wholeheartedly and without reservation accepts them now. It's blasphemy of the worst kind to infect comfort with other intentions, and any lingering lech-ness that might crawl up from the darker parts of Sable's mind is beaten back with considerable force and celerity.

Also, contact seems to work wonders. Colette is laughing, she's smiling. Sable's grinning back as well, a little crookedly. Sensible, that a girl once blind would find touch so very important. But that's part of Colette's history that Sable doesn't know, a form of ignorance in which they match each other.

"Is that so?" Sable says, brows lifting as she learns of a shared bed many years preceding their first, "Elaine said I w's… what? Thirteen? Well, 'course. Still thought I w's s'posed t' like boys, f'r fuck's sake," she clicks her tongue, "stupid, stupid kid. Came 'round though…" her brows waggle just a little in the dark, "mebbe y' had a hand in that too, eh? Dunno what I was thinkin', lyin' there, seein' as I can't remember. Mebbe I was all little 'n' confused 'n' wonderin' whysit I'm more stirred up by this mysterious, like, lady stranger th'n by those little pricks I used t' drink 'n' do dumb shit with." Sable keeps one arm around Colette, lifting her other hand to touch against the girl's chin. "No one t' blame but yerself f'r how I turned out, then. Reap what y' sew, darlin'," her thumb taps against Colette's lower lip, just once.

"Now, let's get y' outta this here dark room. Unsavory, lech'rous, handsy-type folk might be tempted take advantage 'f y' if y' ain't careful." Sable's grin spreads, toothily lupine for just a moment, and then she places a tiny kiss on the tip of Colette's nose, steps back, and takes the door by the knob. Ready to reclaim her gentlemanly heritage and hold it open, should the lady desire passage.

There is a bit of a huff from Kaylee is as she gets her answer, her head shaking a little. "Okay…" She whispers to herself, a smirk breaking out at all that rambling. You haven't changed. Not that she can say the same about herself, but it's offered affectionately.

And seriously… That can't be worse then me showing up covered head and toe in blood… in front of Joseph. If anyone knows about Kaylee's feelings for the pastor it's Colette. Eyes peer at the door as if she can see past it to the woman beyond. You want to talk unattractive? If Joseph can still hug me looking like that, I'm sure Tasha won't care about a little bit of snot. She lets the amusement color those mental words, even as she takes a step away from the bathroom door. Alright… Well… we'll be waiting out here for you to… 'pretty' yourself up.

Her attention goes to the living room, then her eyes to the door of the apartment. Tasha might think she can slip out unnoticed, but… the hum of her mind is still there tickling the back of Kaylee's mind. Telepathic Radar. Run away and she'll still know where you are… within a certain distance. The telepath doesn't follow, however, moving to pick up the glass of water and to settle on the couch. Sipping it, she watches the bathroom door and waits.

The crack of the door opening comes with the sound of Colette blowing her nose, a tissue pressed up beneath it and feet padding in socked scuffs across the hardwood floor. Mismatched eyes angle up towards Kaylee from the bathroom door, then as the teen pauses she turns to look back at Sable, lowering the tissue enough from her reddened nose to show a smile.

"I've had a rough week, m'sorry…" Colette offers in a murmur, turning slowly as she shuffles past Kaylee with an apologetic duck of her head, headed for the livingroom, only to find an absence of Tasha there. Brows furrowed, Colette crosses the way into the kitchen, leaning in the doorway on one socked foot, then turns around and looks back to Kaylee with a brow lifted.

"Where— where's Tasha?" The question is offered in a small, hoarse voice, and it's only now that Kaylee can both see and hear that the not good Tasha explained earlier was quite literal. It looks like she's spent more time crying than she has anything else these last few days. Sliding a tongue over her lips, Colette swallows and turns to look back behind herself, to the cookies cooling on a tray by the stove, then back towards Kaylee and Sable.

Sable goes so far as to dip in a low bow as Colette steps back out into the world. Her chin tilts up at the lowest point of the bow, and she catches Colette's smile, answering in kind and then shuffling out of the bathroom after her, closing the neon pink confessional booth behind her. She sidles up to one side of the sightline between Kaylee and Colette, arms folding over her chest, head tilting as she cracks her neck.

"She says," Sable says, thumbing at Colette while looking at Kaylee, "that yer here f'r me which, lemme tell y', gorgeous," she beams, "jus' about makes my day." Just, you know, so Colette knows that Sable is, in fact, quite as she remembers her.

asha's absence becomes, however, the central presence, and Sable does her own visual sweep, head turning around on recently adjusted neck, as yellow eyes dart about. Tasha… Tasha… nope, nope. Yeah, where is she? Sable quirks her lips to th' side, then opens her mouth and calls out at not-inconsiderable volume.

"Tasha! Yer ass is sorely needed! Come on out, wherever y' are!"

Sable is a helper!

At the question, Kaylee hitches a thumb towards the apartment door, with a much more serious expression on her face, studying Colette from where she sits. "She's sitting on the stairs." There is a slight tilt of her head, eyes going a little distant, as she adds, "crying I believe." Trust the telepath to know, but this one isn't going to pry further, only seeking enough to knows what Colette's girlfriend is doing. Gotta be cautious with time traveling assassins.

Tho… what Sable says, pulls Kaylee's attention. Both her and Colette get an odd look. Though her blue eyed gaze falls squarely on Colette first. "And…what… is she talking about?"

Then there is a little quirk of her brow as she looks at Sable again, amusement pretty plain on her features. "I know a certain pastor who might have a bit of a problem with what I know your thinking." Both brows travel upward, as Sable gets an apologetic smile. "Not sure what Colette's got up her sleeve, I'm already looking to start dating this guy… but I don't think that's what she's got in mind." Eyes narrow at the woman in question, as if trying to figure out that motivation.

There's a lot going through Colette's mind right now, admittedly. It's evident in the way she stands still, one arm crossed over her chest to grip her opposite bicep, brows lifted in a furrow of worry, lips downturned into a frown. Jaw trembling, Colette should probably be more diplomatic than she is when she blurts out, "make her remember," as she's bolting for the front door.

The door knob jiggles as it turns, swings open and Colette has not the good decency to close it as she storms out into the hall, tearing up again as she looks around the hallway for Tasha, trying to figure out whether she's on the stairs going up or the stairs going down, leaning over the railing and sucking back a sniffling sound as she searches for her.

Indecisive Tasha is neither on the stairs up nor the stairs down, but sitting on the landing between the two, leaning against the wall with her arms wrapped around herself. Tears stream down her cheeks from closed eyes. When she hears the door open, she doesn't speak — if they look down the hallway, she's not in view, and they'll think she left — though her cell phone and keys and purse and anything that would allow her to get very far are still in the apartment.

When Colette comes to peer over the railing, Tasha is apparently just small enough that she's easily overlooked. The peering around from Colete makes Tasha smile. She coughs lightly, trying not to startle the skittish Colette too much, not wanting to scare the girl into falling down the flight of stairs.

"I'm here. I was… just giving you guys space," she whispers.

Well, now the people who have been given space, and the privacy that goes along with it, are Kaylee and Sable which is… just great for Kaylee's suspicions. And Sable isn't helping. Her smile is quite predatory as she menaces the blonde with a look. Overdone, excessive, absurd. Like a Tex Avery wolf. "Aw, hon, that's arright. I don't mind if yer seein' someone else. Don't you let a little thing like that get in th' way 'f us connectin'," is the dialogue provided to accompany this display. "But a preacher man? Hell, gal, you hit that. That's kink, I dig that. Always meant t' get a preacher's daughter, but only one I ever met w's sorta…" The yellow eyed girl demonstrates via pantomime in plastique, making a jowly, grotesque face. She pulls her face back into order a moment later, wiggling her lips to make sure it doesn't stick like her second foster mom warned her it might if she made faces like that.

Sable glances to the door again, seeming to always have an eye for them once Colette's through. "Figure she mebbe is talkin' 'bout all this time travel bullshit 'n' me not rememberin' any 'f it?" she suggests, almost idly, before looking back to Kaylee. Eyes go up, down, up, down. "Nawww… come on, let's you 'n' me get a drink, get familiar-like."

Okay, Kaylee looks dumbfounded at those blurted words, head moving with Colette's departure, those blonde brows are high on her head. She mouths those words, brows dipping down, only to shoot up as it finally hits her. "Oh… son of a…"

There is a bit of hesitation as he glances at Sable now, looking a touch nervous. The bold faced propsitions, get addressed first and fairly quickly, "I'm not hitting that just yet… Joseph and I are taking this a step at a time. And that word… just does not work for him." Amusement does color her words, "So… I'm flattered, but no," a finger comes up to forestall anything else just yet, "and that's my final answer. I'm taking this one seriously for once."

A hand waves all that away tho' and focuses on the more important topic, "Now… for what Colette wants…" Taking a breath, Kaylee's amusement bleeds away into a more serious look. "She wants me to break the memory block I put in." That's right… Colette isn't the only one involved with 'time travel bullshit'. "It's why you don't remember." Kaylee's chin tilts up a bit and she moves to stand, of course, towering over the yellow-eyed woman. Folding her arms over her chest, a single brow arches. "Would you like to remember? I.. can't guarantee that I can do it, but I can try."

Out on the landing, hearing conversation inside of the apartment — important conversation — Colette finds herself circling around to where Tasha is sitting on the landing, cracking a smile at the fact that she laughed. Slouching down to sit at Tasha's side, Colette winds an arm around the tiny brunette's shoulder, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple, squeezing her close. "I'm sorry," is a whispered apology into Tasha's hair, "I— I didn't know how to explain, I— I didn't want to worry you." There's a weak timbre in Colette's voice, her head shaking slowly as she presses her nose into Tasha's hair.

"It— it was dumb," she whispers, I just— I didn't know how to explain." Squeezing her arm around Tasha's waist, Colette presses a kiss to the brunette's temple, fingers curling in her shirt. "You know I love you, I just— I wasn't ready. It— there's something I need to tell you that happened while I was gone, I just— I don't know how to explain it yet."

Letting her nose track across Tasha's cheek, Colette exhales a flustered sigh, then breathes out the words, "Will you come back in? It— it's important."

Tasha unwraps her arms from her sides and wraps them instead around Colette, ducking her head to the other's shoulder. "I'm not mad," she whispers. "I understand. I … I might have not told you I'd gotten hurt, if I could hide it — but…" she shakes her head, looking at Colette as she pulls back to study the other. "But you're not hurt now — did you get healed?" she asks, looking confused.

She answers Colette's question by simply standing up, pulling herself up by the bannister and offering a hand to Colette to pull her up as well, before moving toward the apartment. "I just… I felt like maybe you wanted to talk to Sable and Kaylee without me there — if it's personal at all, for Sable, or… for you. If you need space, I get it."

Her dark eyes study the ground as she walks. She gets it but she doesn't like it — she wants to be the one to be able to help Colette when the other is hurting. Her hand squeezes Colette's in her own, and she looks back up, dark eyes shining. "You know I'm here. So — if you can't explain it, I'll be here when you can. And if not — I love you anyway."

"Fine, hon, whatever," Sable says, airily, giving a vague shrug as she glances towards the window, "when yer done with th' 'one step at a time' 'n' wanna go f'r a real marathon, you know where I live…" Her eyes cut back to Kaylee and one of her hands flashes all five fingers, then closes into an 'O', then flashes three fingers. Her apartment number. Just so Kaylee really knows. Wink wink.

She doesn't actually wink, that was just kind of free indirect discourse. And when the topic gets serious, Sable proves that she's able to shift gears just a little. Plus Kaylee said it was her final answer. Which Sable figures means just for this meeting so, okay, she can put it aside for now. There's always later.

"She wants me t' remember," Sable says, tipping her head towards the front door, "I figure I owe 'er 'nough t' honor 'er wishes."

There is a bemused look at Sable and a slow shake of her head, but Kaylee just lets that all go and focuses on business. Hands come up in a stalling motion. "Okay…" Eyes close for a moment as she gets her thoughts together. Her head turns a bit towards the door, "They're on their way back." She says softly.

But then like a hawk focusing on her prey, Kaylee fixes her gaze on Sable. A finger points her to a chair. "Sit." It's an order really. What they don't know is that there is a little thrill going through the telepath, only way it manifests itself is in a mischievous curl of a corner of her mouth.

Working for Hiro has had an affect on Kaylee, numerous uses of Amp has made her crave the power that comes with it and a desire to play with people's minds. It may not effect her physically like a drug, but mentally… she's been craving the chance to use that part of her ability again. Sable has just become a willing victim.

Hauling herself inside with Tasha, Colette keps one arm around the brunette's waist as she leans over and whispers into her hair, "I want you here, I think Sable will too…" There's a kiss after those words, a squeeze, and Colette closes the apartment door with her socked foot as she looks around, trying to find where they are and choosing wrong in the living room first.

Leaning into the kitchen, Colette finds Kaylee standing by the kitchen table behind one of the three chairs, Sable just getting that direction to take a seat. Colette turns her attention to Tasha, leaning in to press a kiss to the brunette's forehead as she says, "I— I was hoping Kaylee could undo what she did, t'like… maybe Sable not remember all the stuff from back— back when we were." There's doubt in Colette's tone though, doubt that the is a good idea.

Approaching the pair, Colette's brows furrow as she regards Sable. "Hey ah," her tongue flicks out across her lips, "I don't— I don't know everythin' they made you forget n'stuff. It— some've this ain't gonna' be pretty, an' the last thing I want's for you t'like… I dunno…" Slowly, Colette shakes her head and squeezes that arm around Tasha tighter.

"You at least deserve the choice, which is what I wanted t'give you. I— I didn't want you t'go your whole life not knowing what Elaine and I had t'do… or… or— I dunno. It seems unfair." There's a crease of her brows in worry, one socked foot tries to hide the other. "I think I'd wanna know…"

As Colette leads her into the kitchen, Tasha wipes her eyes, looking a little chagrined at having run off as she smiles a little shyly at the other two. Colette's tight grip on her keeps her close, but she nods her understanding to the general explanation as to why Kaylee was called, as to why she's so nervous around Sable.

Her dark eyes seek Sable's face, curious as to what the girl will choose, and then her brows furrow — there are things she can't remember, though not because a telepath stole the memories. Would she choose to remember, or is it better she's forgotten. Her eyes dart to Kaylee, then drop as she studies the toes of her shoes.

Back out now? With Kaylee so eager? A mischievous smile on a face like that is beyond Sable to disappoint, whatever the reason. Yellow eyes cut over to Colette, a brow lifting. "It's what you want, eh? I c'n tell, hon," they cut back to Kaylee, "Anyhow," Sable grins, "already told Kaylee here she's welcome t' poke 'round in there. Ain't gonna be untrue t' my word."

There's a momentary pause, and then Sable breaks out into a snicker, a hand lifting to her mouth to cover it, which, considering how open she usually is with her mirth, must mean something.

"Y'all c'n even be free, Kaylee-dear, 'n' gild th' lily yer pluckin' from the muck. Go 'head 'n' make what I remember more ennertainin' if y' feel up to it. Y' know what I like." She pulls her arms to her sides and closes her eyes, smile still on her features, though she's trying her best to contain it. "Enter at yer own peril, gorgeous."

Sable may end up regretting this decision.

A glance goes to the other two, as she stands behind Sable's chair. "No idea if this will even work. It was put in place, while I was on that Amp stuff." Kaylee says softly as hands reach to press finger tips to Sable's temples, eyes sliding shut as she retreats into her ability. Unlike the other woman, the telepath stays on her feet, making her lean down just a little.

Okay… maybe she shouldn't have worn the tank top, at least she's behind Sable.

Talking to people mentally is one thing, but when the tendrils of her ability start to crawl into the woman's skull, like slithering snakes, it's a whole other sensation. Kaylee gives a soft sigh as she sinks into Sable's head, her body seems to relax, shoulders slumping. Her head tips down a little, blonde locks sliding over her shoulders to hang like a curtain. Sable will feel it as a pressure in her head, light and not all that bad, intimate.

For Kaylee, it's not hard to find the mental block. There is a smile of pride for her work, flitting across her lips, as her ability spills up against it. It resists her, of course. Telepathy, feeling it like dozens of little tentacles, slides over the surface of it, looking for any little weakness. Brows furrow as she doesn't see anything right away, it takes a few more long moments before she finds a spot that doesn't seem a heavy as the rest of it.

"There." The word is whispered out loud. "I might be able too…." They trail off until Kaylee is silent again.

To this tiny spot in the wall, Kaylee starts focusing her efforts, trying to burrow into and weaken it more. As the telepath's efforts increase, so does the pressure in Sable's head, It's not comfortable anymore, but it's not hurting yet. If there are any protests, at this point, Kaylee is too far into what she's doing. Fingers press hard into the tender flesh of the other woman's temples, nails starting to bite.

Kaylee ignores the growing pressure in her own skull, it gets worse as the minutes pass, luckily being in Sable's head is making it easier from her to be distracted from her own discomfort. Sweat beads on her forehead and she takes a deep breath as if getting ready for something. "Hold on."

Next thing Sable knows is pain. Fingers tighten even further on the girl's head, nails leaving moon shaped indents, as a new part of Kaylee's ability starts burrows it's way into Sable's head adding to the force against the blockage. "«Remember.»" The word is laden with the command of telepathy for Sable only. The pressure becoming a blinding headache for the yellow-eyed rocker as her mind tries to do as it's told.

It's no cake walk for Kaylee either, pain erupts through her head, the others can see the first sign of stress as blood slides from her nose. She doesn't stop, however, she can feel the barrier bow under her mental attack and feel cracks appearing. It's enough to keep the telepath going even as another line of blood joins the other. A steady patter of blood starts to speckled the floor with crimson. The pain is getting bad, making it harder for her to focus. A small sound of frustration can be heard in the back of Kaylee's throat and tears start to slide from the corners of her closed eyes… it hurts so much. Her whole body trembles with what she's doing, like she's trying to hold up a bar of heavy weights.

Then, when all seems hopeless, that barrier suddenly shatters and all those suppressed memories are freed in a flood of remembering. Sable remembers it all the way down to when Kaylee put that block into place. The pain vanishes, only leaving only a small ache.

Unfortunately, the same can't be said for Kaylee. Overtaxed, her knees buckle, dropping her to hit the floor roughly, hands falling away from Sable's temple like dead weights. The jarring motion sends nauseating pain slicing through her skull, before with a groan, she slides to the side and slumps to the floor. Cheek seeking the cool tile floor, while she desperately hopes she doesn't throw up like her stomach is threatening to do, her world swimming and dizzy.

"Kaylee!" Colette shrieks when the telepath pushes herself too far, scrambling across the tile floor towards the toppled blonde, skidding down on her track pants to a neel at her side. Eyes wide, Colette looks up to Tasha with fright plastered across her face. "T— Tasha! Tasha go downstairs and see if Doctor Pri— " Doctor Price is dead flits across Colette's mind, "Um— that— th redhead girl. See— go see if there's a doctor!" The panicked command comes out with a fretful sharpness as Colette lowers a hand down to Kaylee's shoulder, eyes wide and lips parted in exasperation.

"K— Kaylee, Kaylee oh God, oh— oh God I'm sorry— oh my God what did— what did you do?" Even as the panic is setting in and adrenaline is surging, Colette hasn't even realized that there may be a far more pressing concern as well, and Sable's condition only crosses her mind when she jerks a look up to the brunette.

"S— Sable?" This may not have been as wise an idea as she'd first thought.

The blood splattering the floor has Tasha backing up looking a touch pale — she's never been squeamish, but she's exhausted from her own travels through time, and last night was not restful, more time spent worrying about Colette than sleeping. Her eyes are wide when the telepath slumps, and she nods silently when Colette tells her to find Delia.

She turns and runs from the kitchen for the front door, leaving it open in her haste as she tears down several flights of steps in search of someone to help.

For better or for worse, Kaylee is behind Sable. And Sable is…

How the fuck is she? She has no idea. What began as a frankly quite enjoyable and interesting experience, a kind of intimacy she's never really experienced and finds curious and pleasant, quickly turns… bad. The kind of bad where you really should have a safe word. But with no such limits established, and the booming command echoing into the very depths of her brain, she does not call out for it to stop. And by the time she might be free enough from the imperative to beg cessation… it's entirely too late.

And she remembers. Distant, as six years going on seven will make it. But there. A scar, a wound, she never knew was there, but was there all along. Has always been there. A man at a bus stop, a burrowing doubt, a grim resolution, a gun taken from Ned's closet, a nurse on her knees, a finger, pulling the trigger. She shot someone? Her? Harmless, stupid, foolhardy, Linkin Park listening Raven Diego? And then everything else. Two girls, wingless, halo-less and seemingly clueless guardian angels with several names between them. And the motel, and the fear and the comfort. And the bus. And the truck. And the shattering and the screaming and…

And her. And the barrel of a gun. And death. But not for this Raven, though she had been certain it would be, or as certain as any thirteen year old could be.

Sorry, Kaylee. Sable has a lot to process right now. Eyes wide, staring at her own hands, turning them over to show… bare knuckles. Nothing written. No trace.

The smallest movement makes Kaylee's head shriek with pain, even when it's not moving it's a world of hurt. The blonde doesn't dare, move, speak or even try to communicate what she's feeling. Her stomach still wants to let lose, as her head feels like it's spinning out of control, even though her face rests against cool tile.

When the order is given to get Delia, Kaylee wants to say, no… don't! Cause surely it'll get back around to Joseph. She doubts he'll be happy about this. Always taking risks. Her protest tho' only manages as as soft groan of pain.

Maybe it's a small mercy that darkness comes to swallow up her consciousness, pulling her under. A small mercy not only for Kaylee, but for Colette who won't have anything else added to the blood now smeared across the flooring. Blood is nasty enough to clean up without adding Kaylee's breakfast to it.

Curled up on the floor, arms around Kaylee's shoulders, Colette's mismatched eyes are wide. Once again her judgement has hurt one of her friends, once again her hasty decision-making has potentially caused greivous injury to someone she cares about. Wrapping her arms tighter around Kaylee, Colette slides her shoulders up into her lap, cradling the blonde's head as she eases her onto her back, looking down helplessly at her prone figure, mouth opening and closing worriedly.

How will this affect what Hiro is doing? How long will Kaylee be out of comission? Fixing the errors of the past could become impossible without her ability. Right now, Colette Nichols is blaming herself for everything. Hunching forward, Colette presses her nose down into Kaylee's hair, exhaling a ragged breath and pressing a kiss to the top of her friend's head. "Kaylee? Kaylee?" She can hear her breathing, but she's not responding.

"Oh— Goddamnit— come on Kaylee, it— it'll be…" Colette's seen her overstressed before, seen Kaylee push her ability too far, but never at her request. This was directly Colette's fault, and that Sable seems catatonic— it's not making it any easier.

"Sable," is pleading, a weak and keening tone of voice. With Tasha gone down to find Delia, find someone who can make this better, Colette is left needing something of an anchor to hold on to. While Sable may not be the most stable person at times, right now she's all Colette has.


That's a name she remembers, now. Hearing long, long before she had a dream and decided to give herself a new name. A name spoken by that exact same voice… though never quite in that tone. Anger, she remembers, and frustration. Hazy gentleness, while swimming out of unconsciousness. But never pleading.

It's this difference within the commonality that bridges Sable back to this moment. The pain in her head is gone. There is a new kind of pain, a strange dissonance echoing in her mind, its current construction scrambling to shore itself up under a new and sudden weight. But the imperative of that voice. Who's voice? Adelaide. A name that meant nothing until three years later when it came to mean everything.

Yellow eyes stare in non-comprehension at Colette, like she has never once seen her before. But she sees her now. And she see her fear, and the unconscious blonde head in her lap. Sable swoops down and once, a hand going out to touch Kaylee's temple, a half mirrored reciprocation. She looks up to Colette again, still looking utterly astounded. But then Sable's got her arms around Colette, one hand moving to clasp the back of her head, the other slipping about her waist. Drawing her into the embrace.

"I'm here, I'm here darlin'. Right where y' left me."

"Hi," is a stupid thing to say when you're trying not to cry, but that's exactly what Colette does as she exasperatedly exhales a breath against Sable's shoulder and leans her head down into the embrace. That she's trembling isn't a surprise, it's been a long, hard few days with little rest. Jaw quivering, Colette looks up with a wide-eyed stare to Sable, mismatched eyes meeting yellow ones, then just a smile through the far tears dribbling down her cheeks.

If she never cries again, it will be too soon.

Colette ducks her head down, brow on Sable's shoulder and feeling tiny in her arms, much in the same way Sable herself seemed remarkably small when beside Colette and Elaine in the past. Here, now, there's a commonality between the two. Memories of the past shared under admittedly strained circumstances.

Even as Colette can hear shouting coming from the hall — Tasha's voice and someone else; help, in any form — she's is smiling. Exhaling a ragged breath against Sable's shoulder, Colette shakes her head slowly, brushing one hand over Kaylee's cheek, knowing now that help is on the way.

"Been a while," Colette whispers to Sable shakily, as if meeting a friend for the first time in a long time. "Sorry it took me so long," is an attempt at a shakily laughed at joke. She can't be too happy, not with Kaylee suffering as she is, not with a great deal more truth to get out.

"I missed you."

But things will eventually get better.

They always do.

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