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[ There's no pushback and her gratitude is boundless. She'd quietly been gearing up to diffuse if he changed his mind or had been offering it out of courtesy. She didn't honestly believe he would say anything he didn't mean, but she didn't exactly have the best track record with guys. Her latest venture with Penny almost always ended with a fight and she'd checked out of the idea of that relationship a little while ago. She'd wanted to see what else was out there for her and see if she could find someone who'd let her do what she needed to without throwing something about her life back in her face or demanding for her to choose between two impossible things.

They're at his place before it sinks in and the helmet is coming off and she's being ushered inside. Another time, she'd appreciate the surroundings -- comment on how different their places were. She's grateful he has a few personal touches, something to make it feel more like a home to him. She files it away to maybe ask if he wants a few more and give herself and Margo a mission to grab a few things that might fit with the vibe of it all. She wouldn't want to overstep, though. If he was happy, then that was good.

Her response is delayed for half of a breath - the words taking a little longer to process. Wrapping her arms around herself, she finally turns her attention to him and manages to string together a response. ]

Water would be good. [ Honestly, she could go for all three, but water was the best starting point. She might request the blanket later. Julia just needed some time to process everything and get herself set back on track. This was a really good starting point. Better than what she probably would have been doing if left to her own devices - burying herself in work and not sleeping for two days. ]

[ First, the reason that Steve hadn't decorated was because he didn't think he'd be here that long. He thought, hey, we're all trying to get out, and so, there really wasn't any need to invest in any pieces. And then, he'd been too distracted by other things to care, and then he'd kind of gotten used to it, and then they'd been pulled away into the Great Sleep and the Titanic and Rapture and so on, so forth.

It wasn't like he didn't like having personal touches, but he'd also stopped thinking of them as something he needed. After all, his apartment at home had been decorated by Nick Fury, and then he'd packed up and left after that, and planned to live out of a suitcase for the next... well, indefinitely, really.

Julia can feel free to do whatever she wants with it, and if it makes her more welcome, more the reason.

He gets her a glass of water and comes back with the blanket anyway, because she has her arms crossed over her chest and he thinks she might be a little cold. Cold or withdrawn, but honestly, blanket's probably not a bad bet either way. ]

You can sit anywhere you like. I've got -- um, I've got a guest room if you want to stay the night, and a towel and everything. Not saying you have to, just, if you didn't want to leave.

I do have to work tomorrow, but we'll figure something out. Last thing I want you to feel here is unsafe or alone.

[ It may not have had a lot of creature comforts, but it was, at the very least, a place she could hole up in and shut out the rest of the town for the moment. ]

[ The offer is nice, especially paired with both water and a blanket and his desire to make sure she feels safe. Though, not being alone resonates more. Because right now, she felt incredibly alone and until she and Q made up, she felt guilty reaching out to Eliot and being any form of a burden.

She takes both, quiet for a long moment as she settles on the couch - wrapping the blanket around herself. Julia will give him an answer on staying over later, still trying to wrap her head around literally everything that just happened. ]

I had to tell Wynonna that her sister is dead. I know she's coming back... But it's still--

[ Rationally, she knew giving Wynonna a heads up that her sister died rather violently on the network was better than her finding out on her own, but she wasn't close to Wynonna. Not the way she was with Waverly. The 'shoulda woulda coulda's flit through her mind with an alarming frequency - if she'd known what Waverly had been up to, she never would have let her go alone.

But then, maybe they'd both be dead.

Putting down the glass of water, she leans forward - running her hands over her face. And here she'd thought she'd make it through this month without directly or indirectly getting involved with the people in white around town. ]

Hey...

[ He goes over, not trying to crowd her space, but gently placing a hand on her arm. He doesn't take it away from her face, he just wants to steady her, draw attention to it. ]

I know. It doesn't get easier to tell people someone's died even though you know they're coming back, because it doesn't get easier to die or to have someone who has.

[ He sympathizes, because even though this has pretty much happened to the entirety of the population in one form or another, and hell - they might all be dead, that's still a working theory - it doesn't mean they don't all still feel. ]

Even if she's coming back you'e grieving. You need time to do that.

[ And space, and... well, whatever Steve can give her. Though, he's hoping that someone's checking up on Wynonna. ]

[ The physical contact is back and she uses it as a grounding point to stop beating herself up. Lowering her hands from her face, she sighs and listens. She'd literally told Kady she'd basically planned to do something similar to what Waverly had done, digging into the history of this place and trying to find answers and... It could have been her.

Maybe that's what has her so shaken up over this.

She'd watched people die before. Friends-- but this was somehow different. She'd been mostly helpless in those situations, too - quick to throw herself into the line of fire if it meant saving even just one person.

Julia barely manages to contain the what-ifs. Only one managing to escape before she locks them down, knowing that staying in that kind of mental space wasn't good for anyone. ]

I should've been with her. I could have--

[ Shaking her head, she knows where that goes. She could have intervened, but she also more likely would have died with her. Facing her mortality once again in a sea of white and red where it'd be easy enough to freeze up in a flashback for even half a second.

Finally looking at him, she moves to interlace her fingers with his. ]

Thank you for coming to get me. For-- for all of this. [ The offer of being able to crash here, his willingness to basically drop everything with almost zero notice. ] Being around people dressed in white just brings up a lot. Just made this hit a little harder than anything else that's happened here. [ She knows she doesn't need to justify her emotions, but it felt important to at least offer a little context without digging into it too much. ]

[ He can make a couple extrapolations there, but honestly, it doesn't matter. And - hell, he doesn't know what she's been through, or anyone here, not really. It wasn't anyone's place to judge what set anyone else off. ]

You can't have known, Julia, and you can't blame yourself for any of this.

[ Because yes, this was risky, but so was just... existing in Deerington, really. How was this any different than what they usually had on a daily basis? There's no way she could just be around the whole time - but, naturally, Julia can't see it that way right now. ]

And... you're welcome, but you don't need to thank me. As long as this helps.

[ He squeezes her hand, and then, slowly, if she'll allow, pull her into an embrace and hold her against his heart, which beats with a steady rhythm, strong and unwavering. He just hopes it makes her feel safer, like this. ]

[ She lets him pull her in and focuses on the sound of his heartbeat and the warmth emanating off of him. Julia breathes deeply and not get absorbed in her thoughts. This place came with so much loss and she honestly wasn't sure if it was worse that they came back or that there wasn't a gentle transition back and forth -- at least there hadn't been for her here. It had been brutal and violent and quick. She'd died a lot back home, both in her own timeline and the others. Especially once she'd figured out by accident that she wouldn't stay dead after losing her goddess powers. She'd endured fatal blow after blow just to succeed, but it hadn't felt anything like what she experienced here.

It just sucked that this happened to a literal ball of sunshine. All she could do was make sure Waverly could lean on her if needed so that joyous personality didn't dim. Resilience was the name of the game and they all had bucketfuls. Sometimes it just took a little longer to dig deep and grab another serving to stay upright or find positive ways to refill them when they were getting low.

She could easily fall asleep like this, but instead, she just continues to try to calm her thoughts and hold onto the positives. ]

[ He doesn't move from this spot as long as she needs him to be here. And he waits if she wants to talk, or if she doesn't want to talk, or if she needs him to get her something, or anything else of the sort.

Technically, they weren't in a war, so they had as long a time as she wanted to grieve. He's thankful for that; there's no rushing this process. He knows. And he knows all too well what it's like to push it aside and try to focus on other, more pressing tasks.

There's kind of a reason all his friends at home are on edge, even the ones with the sunnier dispositions just push aside emotions and box them up for another day.

He won't let that happen to Julia. Not if he can help. ]

[ Grief was weird. It wasn't something she typically took the time to allow in, especially if she could rationally wrap her mind around something else to fill the time. Give it a chance to process on the back burners so she wasn't a complete and totally useless mess.

If she knew his ultimate goal, she'd genuinely compliment his intentions and then maybe breach the conversation she'd been avoiding. Instead, she just wanted to stay like this for a little bit -- allow herself to feel things she didn't usually let linger like this anymore. Not after her full emotional break after getting her shade back. She'd locked down her emotions as best she could to become functional again and it had worked. So she just kept doing it. There were a few bottles rattling around in her closet of things she needed to deal with -- things that happened both here and at home. Her first death here, Q's death at home, what happened in Rapture.

She'd talked about it enough with someone to take an edge off, but that didn't usually make her feel better. And that was on her. For not opening up as much as she should out of not wanting to dump it all out into the open. Lifting herself up slightly from the warmth of his embrace, she places a kiss on his cheek before settling back against his chest. ]

I think crashing here tonight would be a good idea. [ Better than returning to her attic room in a three-story house with a roof high enough to be appealing to anyone looking to jump. And she wasn't sure if Margo would be at Scott's or if he'd be staying over again. She didn't want to be in a big house alone. And if she'd learned anything over the past year, it was when to take the offered help rather than trying to tough it out and do it on her own. ]

[ He nods, though obviously she can't see, maybe she can feel. It's warm where she's kissed his cheek, and he still feels the lingering sensation of it; it makes him wish that everything could just take a pause and go right, for her. For the both of them. ]

I think that'd be best. I've got a guest room, it's right down the hall from me. If you need anything, at all, I want you to wake me up.

[ Because nothing's worse than waking up in the middle of the night at someone's house and then not wanting to be a jerk but also not remembering where the cups are and then making a mess in the kitchen just trying to get water.

Okay, or something more topical. He'd stay up all night if she wanted to, if she needed that. Wasn't like it was the first time he'd gone into work sleepless, and he could handle just about anything, just not letting Julia be alone right now. He knows enough to know she'd had enough of that for a lifetime. ]

[ She thought she'd made peace with not being able to protect everyone in her life, but this just reminded her how wrong she was. And how much she hated feeling helpless. Maybe that's why she was so passionate about helping to save the world time and time again. Something a little less noble than her drive to protect the people she loved or carry on the torch of her lost friend, but she also didn't want to helplessly stand by and watch everything crumble around her.

It was always hard to shine the light on aspects of herself as the need to analyze set in. She doesn't hold back the smallest hint of a smile, knowing he was serious. She could keep him up all night and he wouldn't object. Julia had no plans of doing that, but it was nice to have the option available guilt-free. ]

I promise. If I need anything, I will.

[ She's hoping she'll be too exhausted to dream, that she'll just sleep like a rock and recharge her batteries. But food was probably a starting point before she dozed off against him, a nap not ideal for her later plans. After another long moment, she finally sits up, fingers moving to brush a few strands of hair out of her face. ]

Anything I can help with since I kind of hijacked your plans?

No, it's alright.

[ Well, maybe he should take her up on that since he can't cook and they should probably have something for dinner. He doesn't think they should order takeout, because he doesn't really want to open the door for any reason - and he also doesn't want to put a delivery worker in danger. ]

Do you like... sandwiches?

[ He can at least trust himself to put together some cold cuts and veg on bread and serve it alongside some chips. Listen, it isn't a lot, but he is a bachelor who had used to spend most of his days fighting supervillains, like he never really had time to learn how to make himself anything worth eating. ]

Or, um, I could show you your room first.

[ He hasn't touched it in awhile; there's linens in the closet and everything, it came with the house. All of it did, really, he hasn't done much with it. But he's kind of glad, he probably would've gotten rid of the extra room by now if he'd done any renovations. ]

Sure. [ She’s not picky. ] And I can help out if anything needs to be set-up. I don’t mind.

[ Gives her something to do - keep her hands busy and keep her from checking her fluid too much or looking out the window and waiting for another horrific act to come plummeting literally from the sky. She could get behind not ordering takeout, agreed that she didn’t want to put anyone else at risk.

A fleeting thought of having her own business swings back into her mind, wishing she had the power to close the library to reduce the risk to the staff and to have it as a safe haven for people who were running. But, she didn’t have that power. And she wasn’t so sure about all the staff members being the most protective of people when it came to strangers. Ever the person who enjoys being in a position of control when it came to certain circumstances of her life, she hadn’t realized how powerless she felt working for a Deerington run business. It didn’t work for her. Not anymore. The Library had burned back home… maybe it was time for it to metaphorically burn here. Look to a fresh start after all of this.

She’d give Waverly time to find her footing again after she revives, but she had a feeling Waves might also be on board for a change after everything, too.

Julia takes a sip of her water before rising to her feet, ready to go. Distraction was a great tool right now. ]

[ Yes, having a little direction was good - even in his worst times, as long as he had a goal, a next step, he could make it. When he was totally lost and overwhelmed, when he felt like he was backsliding, those were the moments he felt most like giving up.

He leads her around the house, showing her the bathroom, opening his linen closet and pulling out a set of towels and a robe that's probably slightly too big for her as he walks past into the second bedroom, depositing those linens on the foot of the bed so she's free to use them whenever.

It's a nice little room, though clearly Steve only comes by once in awhile to dust and vacuum. He usually keeps the curtains open but he goes to draw them closed.

There are books in this room, ones that he'd picked up at a used bookstore, that didn't fit on any of his other shelves, or that he'd already finished. There's also a desk, with a blank notepad and a pen in the drawer. But those were the only things to do in the room really, besides sleep. ]

Let me know if you get cold?

[ Overtop of the comforter is a coverlet, and there are two untouched pillows sitting atop flat shams. It's somehow kind of fashionable in its austere but comfortable presentation. ]

[ She follows, taking it all in as they move through the house - trying to remember which door goes to where to avoid accidents in the dark. Not that she'd pee in the linen closet, but the less noise in the middle of the night because of her, the better. While he'd said to wake him for anything, she didn't want it to be accidental.

She manages to catch a glimpse of a few people dressed in white outside before the curtains close, her arms wrapping around her midsection as she just stares. God, what a mess this all was.

Before she can stop herself, she's drawn to the bookshelf - a finger brushing over the spines of the books. It's all very nice. Not what she'd expected, but also not surprising in a weird way. ]

Something you'll learn about me is I'm almost always some level of cold. This will be perfect, though. Thank you.

[ A hot shower and a fluffy oversized robe sounded almost as good as a sandwich. Tough decision, but her stomach wins out with a soft grumble of protest to remind her of its existence as it had been neglected with everything that had happened. She wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse that the graphic image stamped in her mind wasn't an appetite deterrent right now. Even if that might change once the food was in front of her. There'd been some distance since it had been through the device. She'd been able to turn it off rather than being trapped with it. Made a difference. ]

If you want, I've got more blankets.

[ That sentiment is rudely interrupted by stomach noises, so Steve excuses himself to go put together some sandwiches really fast. She's seen his knife skills, so hopefully she trusts that he can do that without any assistance required.

Very quickly, he reaches behind the curtain to check and make sure he'd locked the windows, which he did, and then makes his way out of the room to check the rest, draw all the curtains, make sure that they don't accidentally see how the people in white like to spy inward.

It is rather unsettling, but as strange as they are, he does find that they are, at least currently, the kind of polite where if he just puts on the clothes and joins them for an hour or something, they're more than happy to just let him beg off for other festivities. He doesn't know how they're choosing their kills, but they do seem ritualistic. Maybe he can somehow convince them not to sacrifice any of the outsiders...

...But that was for another day, and definitely not while Julia was staying here. He puts together the sandwiches with the plates set up, a mound of chips on each and a wedge of pickle. Two glasses of water. Looks like he could've popped over and gotten it at a deli.

Tray in hand, he knocks on Julia's door. ]

[ He'd gotten this far in life, so she absolutely trusts his knife skills in the kitchen. They're better than hers. She also wasn't trained the same way he was, so she'd never needed to have precision levels of weapon skills. If she could avoid a situation ending in violence, that was the ultimate goal. It's how she'd approached the people in white, even if wearing the outfit made her want to throw up.

She wanted to explain to Steve - spill the beans about everything and just rip off the proverbial bandaid. But, he never made her feel like she had to justify her reaction or why it had been so strong or what skeletons it had rattled in her closet.

But either way, Waverly had gotten too close to a truth about this place. She'd only tried to share what she'd discovered with everyone else the fastest way possible and it had backfired. She wanted to do what was best for everyone and had been punished for it.

When Steve returns, she quickly opens the door. She'd pulled a few books off of the shelf to fill the time. It would also save her the trouble in the middle of the night if and when she couldn't sleep. Eyes on the tray, she gives a nod of appreciation - her tone genuine. ]

Wow, that looks great. [ Brushing her hands on her jeans, she keeps her focus in the moment. Letting her thoughts wander like that again wouldn't be good. And not that she thought he'd run if she told him the truth, she just... she didn't want it to happen like this. ]

[ Steve has never really been the type to need anyone to explain anything to him. He just... believes everyone's trying their best. He doesn't always agree with everyone's best, but he usually assumes there's something personal there and it's not for him to pick at.

Julia has just watched Waverly get killed, so, even if he did question it, he'd chalk it all up to that.

Everyone grieves differently, and everyone needs their space and the personal resources they need to do so. If Julia's is a place to stay and a slightly mediocre sandwich, he wouldn't deny her those things. In any case, he'd never deny her quarter, as he continues to prove. ]

There's more in the fridge if you get hungry.

[ More ingredients, not more sandwich. Sorry. In any case, he is wondering kind of if he should stay or if he should go, so he pulls up a chair from the desk. It's not pasta primavera in a pretty dining room, but it's also not a date. ]

I can leave if you want, I just. Didn't think you should be alone.

This is perfect, thank you.

[ She'll probably be picking at it for the rest of the night, eating when she has an appetite and not forcing it when she doesn't. She manages a small smile as he pulls up a chair - settling on the bed nearby. ]

Stay. Please.

[ Because he was right. She didn't want to be alone right now, but she also didn't want to force him to keep her company if he had other things to do. No matter what they were going to label themselves as, she never wanted him to feel obligated to be with her. She always wanted it to be a choice. ]

You don't have to go if you don't want to.

[ The answer comes quickly, but not too quickly, sternly, but only in firmness. ]

I don't want to.

[ He wants to be here, he wants to make sure that she's alright because they're friends. They might be more than friends, a little bit, by now. And Steve is nothing if not loyal; he always has been. He'd fit in with the Magicians crew quite nicely, if he knew of their stories.

Instead, he takes a look at the books she's chosen. ]

That one's pretty good. Really makes you feel something.

Ok.

[ That’s all she needed to hear. She really did need to have that talk with him before this turned into anything serious, but not tonight. One day, she’d tell him as much as she could. As much as the others would allow as it wasn’t just her story to tell. Not the rest of it. But, she also knew he’d come at it from a place of caring and not judgement. That was important. Her friends were all tough exteriors, but pretty fucking vulnerable underneath. It’s what reminded her of how amazing they all truly were - how much they’d grown as people. He’d love them as much as she did if he treated them half as well as he did her.

Her eyes follow his, the very random collection of books spanning various moods, either the ability to lose herself or have something where she didn’t mind re-reading the same page four times. Bonus that their taste in books seemed to overlap in some areas so she’d had plenty to choose from. ]

I was going for a spectrum depending on how much I wanted to have to concentrate versus how much I was looking for a distraction. [ And that reminds her-- ] Don’t let me forget to bring you my copies of the Fillory and Further series.

I won't. But that can wait.

[ He does want to know the stories that kept her captivated as a child. What sort of things moved and built young Julia? Steve had been mostly shaped by Tolkien, and by Fitzgerald, later by Orwell and Hemingway. Yet, in the same way that his most treasured books are those that sparked his imagination and kept him company as a child, and they seemed to be alike in that respect. ]

Could I read to you?

[ They might both be a little too old for this, but he's always found it soothing. He doesn't have his mother's calming voice and soft breezy lilt, but instead, a steady voice, like a gentle stream. He does have hopes that it might lull her into a sleep, that she might be able to have pleasant dreams for a night. ]

[ Picking up a pickle spear from her plate, she takes a bite - his question catching her off guard. Her expression softens, chewing and setting down the pickle. ]

I would like that.

[ She used to read to Quentin when they were younger, when he was having a particularly hard time or they were at either of their houses and one of their parents were fighting inside. It was easier to disappear into the fantasy of it all than face the reality. She'd formed other coping mechanisms as she grew up, some not as healthy as others - some to spite her mother. But, it was really nice to go back to something that had been a comfort all those years ago. ]

In here or back in the living room?

[ Honestly, he hasn't thought that far. He just thinks it might help. Sandwiches, chips, reading. ]

Let's eat. We can do it after. Either room.

[ Because he doesn't really care, it is his house. Whatever she feels more comfortable in, he'll oblige. He's always been this easygoing, particularly when someone needs him to be. He doesn't think she's the type to need him to lead her through a tragedy, just. Offer things. Help. Companionship. Things that are easy for him.

In the meantime, he digs into his sandwich because he hasn't had dinner yet, and he's feeling a bit peckish. Happens sometimes when you eat enough to feed an actual army. He just hopes it's enough, because his house is usually full of ready-meals, junk, and honestly just vegetables that he eats raw, and bread for toasting.

Go easy on him, he has never had to impress anyone with his cooking. ]

Sounds like a plan. [ She’s grateful, everything he’d done far beyond what she could have expected or even imagined asking for. She was bad at reaching out for support, but she’d been working on getting better. Honestly, if he’d just confirmed he was okay and had promised he’d be smart about getting home, she’d have left it at that. Maybe asked for confirmations when he got to his house -- but not for him to come get her. That had been a surprise and right now? She was glad she hadn’t turned it down. Going through the motions of grief was getting easier and easier and that concerned her. She could tell herself that they were going to wake back up, but that wasn’t always the case. It hadn’t been with Sarissa. She’d been sent home right as she’d revived. Death was also something she couldn’t control or change with a snap of her fingers.

Finishing off the pickle spear, she tackles the sandwich - adding some of the chips onto it for added crunch. And it’s good - really good if the size of her bites is anything to go by. She hadn’t thought she was this hungry until she actually started eating. Weird how that worked. ]

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pursuitofcappiness - 2020-05-30 22:19 (UTC) - Expand

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