knowthyexits | (no subject)

Entry tags:

cal,
columbus

(no subject)

When it comes to the distraction of a mind, there is nothing like being told 'you're going to die' that makes a person rethink their life. Sarah knows that unlike Skynet, unlike the apocalypse, she doesn't have an exact date. She has time. How much time, she has no idea, but she has some time.

It's why she's gone around to three people who she knows that won't feel out of place in a dangerous situation and told them curtly that it's time to go before grabbing her shotgun and heading in the direction of the dinosaurs.

Whether or not they follow her is up to them.

She's done her duty and now she allows her mind to turn back to the diagnosis and George's words and the secure knowledge that she is going to get very sick and then she is going to die. She tries not to think about how she had known that was a possibility. Here, as a reality, it's so much worse.

She doesn't talk to any of them as she walks with purpose towards the dinosaurs, highly intending to shoot something, to kill something, to take her hands and pry something until it breaks because if she can't fight this disease within her, she has to fight something.

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Silence is nothing new to her, but hunting one of the creatures on the other side of an invisible divide is. She's been well-aware that they lurk and live here, these mythic beings rooted in history, but she's never seen a reason to come and take from them. She loads the shotgun before they get too deep, creeping as silently as she can over path and leaves.

She has a laser-like focus on this, as if she's out here alone. As if she didn't bring along people because in the wake of not having John in this moment, having people to look after fills some void, some need for this.

I have no idea why I'm here. Like, literally no idea. Other than the fact that Sarah came and asked me, and...well...I don't have amny people that I like in the world. I don't...get close to many people. So she asks me. And I go. With my double-barrel.

And I'm pretty sure that I'm actually going to die here.
Fuck.

Sarah lingers back for a moment just to catch up with Columbus, aware that maybe she owes him an explanation. "You implied, once, that you wanted to be ready to run. That you wore shoes because of it." She turns to him, glancing to the gun, then down to his shoes. "I needed this, but I appreciate you coming out here."

"You'd have come out here on your own."

I must be out of my mind. This is what happens when you start caring about people. This is what happens. You know. When you start giving a shit. I nod. "It's okay," I tell her.

"Yes," she agrees. "I would have." There isn't a doubt in her mind that she would have picked up the gun and come out here. It's no death wish, but she needs to have the feeling of doing something and everyone here is so good. The creatures on the other side of the island have no sympathy in her heart.

"I don't know that it's okay, though."

"It'll have to be, won't it?" I ask her, and yeah, I think I actually manage to smile. "I've. You know, I've got a talent for getting stuck with people who really seem to want me to. Die."

"I won't let anything happen to you," Sarah says, and if she's ever meant anything in her life, she means this. "It's what I do. I protect people." Sometimes, she doesn't do so well, but she gets the ones who matter out alive.

"I know," I say, because she hasn't ever said it, because there are some things that you just know and I know that about her. I watch her for a moment, shifting my grip on my double-barrel. "Why are we out here, Sarah?"

Sarah doesn't know how to put it into words that she's lived her whole life fighting a battle and now that she's surrounded by good people, she can't take this sort of rage out on them. "I need an enemy to fight," she says, because she can't target the cancer right now. She's done her best, but it's been useless, and so she needs something to fight.

That's all.

I don't really understand that; I might have played a lot of World of Warcraft, and I might have wasted a lot of zombies but I...never...really took any joy in it, you know?

I never...figured out how to like it. Not like Tallahassee.

"Whatever you need," I say, and I hope I sound braver than I feel. "I'm right here."

Sarah flashes just the briefest of smiles and then it's gone like it never appeared in the first place. She creeps slowly forward through the brush and when she sights something past the brush. "There," she whispers, coaxing Columbus onwards.

Oh, Jesus Christ. I really have no fucking desire to die out here. I really hope that I don't. I shift my grip on my gun.

"Okay," I say.
Okay.

"You want me to take the shot?" Sarah asks, when it seems like Columbus isn't going to do it and her fingers are itching for it. She wants something to fall, for something to reap the consequences of the news she heard.

"You can take it," I say, embarrassed that I've sort of frozen up but, you know, nobody's trying to kill me. And I never really wanted to kill anything.

It's funny how things turn out.

Sarah shifts in the trees so that when she pulls the trigger, she won't attract unwanted attention. It's easy to glide along the foliage. It's like Central America and she doesn't have a toddler who's just learning how to defend himself. It's almost easy. She lines up the shot, feeling her heart bursting against her ribcage, and it's that fluttery anticipation in which she feels alive that she came out here for.

I think I stop breathing. All I can do is stand there and watch her and wait. I might feel safer with a gun in my hand.

That doesn't mean that I feel safe.

Sarah watches the animal go down. She's not even sure if she can call it that. Is it an animal if it hasn't walked the earth in millions of years? She shoulders the gun and looks back at Columbus. "You never wanted to get closer to a dinosaur when you were a boy?"

"When I was a kid, maybe?" I say, shifting my weight from one foot to another and changing my grip on my gun. "I mean, back before I thought how much they could, you know, tear me into little tiny pieces."

So I've got a healthy appreciation of how easy it would be to kill me.
Fucking sue me.

"That one's dead now, Columbus," Sarah points out with the barrel of the gun, taking steps through the jungle after surveying the area to make sure there are no other threats present. "It won't hurt you. Not like this."

"I'm okay," I tell her, and I really feel like kind of an asshole. There's another one moving in the corner of my eye and I've got my gun up and, this time, I'm going to take the shot, because the last thing that I need is Sarah feeling like she's got to treat me like a five year old that's just wet itself or something.

I'm going to take this shot.

Sarah sees the target and Columbus and she doesn't say anything. She keeps her gaze on him and the shot he's taking, eyes more attentive of his form with the gun than anything else.

She doesn't give encouragement or criticism. Not right now.

I hit it. My aim's pretty good. It's had to be and, anyway, years of Halo? Kind of useful, as it turns out.

I can't help but look a little bit pleased as I turn back to Sarah.

Sarah has her own proud smile on her face, which gets hidden when she ducks her face downwards and away from Columbus. "Good shot," she says, but keeps her voice down to avoid calling attention to themselves.

Something was definitely up. Sarah was a lot more like me than either of us were probably comfortable admitting, and I could read it on her as easily as if it was written across her forehead. Maybe she was still shaken up over the terminator thing or maybe it was something else, but it had to be major if she was hauling my ass out to dino territory for some therapeutic killing time.

I got it. I'd done it, and it wasn't like I minded. Going out there to raise some hell and let off some steam was my favorite island pastime.

But I sure as fuck didn't get the inclusion of the skinny guy with the shotgun. He looked like he was about to piss himself.

I had the Eagle out, but my posture was casual; if I had to be on constant alert to hear a fucking dinosaur coming at me, Niko would probably disown me. I looked over at Sarah, at the tension in her shoulders, and moved closer.

"You going to tell me what the fuck this is about anytime soon?"

Edited 2011-03-06 18:01 (UTC)

Sarah keeps her gaze forward. There's a small part of her that worries that Cal can see right through her and if she looks at him, he'll know. Somehow, he'll know. She knows that's ridiculous, but it's there in her mind -- an idea that refuses to move.

"I don't know, Cal," she says, voice subdued and mild. "Would you tell me if our positions were reversed?"

"You know my big, bad secret, I don't have anything else I'm trying to keep under wraps," I replied. Truth was, I'd never been particularly against letting people know what I was. I'd stopped being ashamed of it a long time ago. It was just difficult to explain and you never knew how they'd react.

"So, yeah. I don't know if I'd volunteer it, but if you asked me, sure." I studied her from the corner of my eye. "What the fuck can be worse than what I already know?"

"It's personal," is all she has to say about it, taking longer strides to remove her from Cal's immediate person, her grip on the shotgun tightening as the tension grows in her. She thinks she shouldn't be able to feel any difference, but she can. She feels like there's something in her, waiting to take her down. "It's." She takes a deep breath and thinks about what he said.

If you asked me, sure.

"It's medical."

That was bad. Really fucking bad, and I didn't need Sarah's grudging, cryptic answer to know it; the way she moved away said just as much, maybe more.

I reached for her, a hand against her upper arm tugging her gently but firmly back over as I leaned in. "Sarah," I said, just above a whisper. "People don't go on therapeutic dinosaur hunting expeditions because they have a rash."

Sarah casts a wary eye back over Columbus and Katniss warily, not wanting them to get an earful of this conversation. She stares Cal down, not sure what he's expecting her to say in response to that. "I need to fight something. I need to fight something tangible, with a presence, something that I can visibly see. I just need to fight."

I let go of her arm. What else could I do? I let her go, and I frowned. Unfortunately, I was pissed off so much of the time, it probably didn't register as anything unusual.

"Okay," I finally said, giving in. If anybody understood her reasoning, it was me. That didn't mean I had to be comfortable with the cause of it, though. "But when we get back, we're having a talk, you and me."

"Okay," she agrees, sounding almost hollow and distant. She knows that she has to do it, but a part of her wants to be able to run from this. She wants a chance to start again, but there are boundaries to these shores and she works a steady shift with people she feels responsible for. "Cal," Sarah says, before they can get back on the path.

She grabs at his forearm and pulls him close, wrapping her arms around him tightly. She's smaller than he is, but she's got a steel grip when she wants it. And now, she hugs him and presses her forehead to his shoulder, holding on because he's what she's got here.

"I'm lucky to have a boy like you in my life." He's older than a boy, but in her eyes right now, that's all she sees.

Physical affection was far from my forte. My own mother would have rather spit on me than hug me, and while Niko had done a commendable job of raising me on his own, he wasn't exactly handsy, either. Even so, after a moment of awkwardness, I lifted a hand to cradle the back of Sarah's head and sighed.

Did I mention that this was really fucking bad? Because it was seeming worse by the fucking minute.

"I'm almost 22, mom," I replied, going for levity.

"Well, I guess I was thirteen when I had you," is her instant retort, easing away from him and letting her hand linger at his shoulder for a singular moment, squeezing there harder than strictly necessary to keep her grounded to something. She's already dreading the talk they're going to have, but it needs to happen. If only so she has someone who can protect John if she's gone.

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