“Enough is enough,” Boone says firmly. The Courier tries to stifle her coughing long enough to answer him. She manages to shake her head no. His mouth sets in a firm line. He opens his mouth to call her by her name, and she winces.
She wants to forget who she was before she was Courier.
“Don’t-“ she coughs, wheezing to catch her breath. “Don’t call me that.” She falters underneath his gaze. “You don’t have the right,” she finishes quietly.
“The right to what? To tell you to get help? To save your own life?”
“Big words from a man with a god-“ she coughs again, blood spattering her palm. “God damned death wish.” He crosses his arms, the tense set of his shoulders all that is need to let her know she hit a sore spot. She winces. “There isn’t anything anyone can do. I guess you can say this is a remnant of my own death wish.” She wipes the blood on her jeans, not caring anymore if he sees it.
“Fine,” he says as she lies down to go to bed. “I’m not going to let this go,” he warns. She nods, and he sets up watch for the night, his back to her. She reaches in her pocket for a weathered slip of paper. She isn’t sure how it’s lasted this long without disintegrating between her nervous fingers. She curls up to mouth the single word written on the paper over and over again before falling asleep.
Boone doesn’t ask her why she says that word anymore. At first, he thought she was Legion. Thought she was saying the name of their ferryman to haunt him. But she says it the way he says Carla’s name when he wakes up from the nightmares that plague him, and so he leaves it be.
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timeasmymeasure
Keep Your Composure 5/?
Date: 2011-10-25 11:14 pm (UTC)She wants to forget who she was before she was Courier.
“Don’t-“ she coughs, wheezing to catch her breath. “Don’t call me that.” She falters underneath his gaze. “You don’t have the right,” she finishes quietly.
“The right to what? To tell you to get help? To save your own life?”
“Big words from a man with a god-“ she coughs again, blood spattering her palm. “God damned death wish.” He crosses his arms, the tense set of his shoulders all that is need to let her know she hit a sore spot. She winces. “There isn’t anything anyone can do. I guess you can say this is a remnant of my own death wish.” She wipes the blood on her jeans, not caring anymore if he sees it.
“Fine,” he says as she lies down to go to bed. “I’m not going to let this go,” he warns. She nods, and he sets up watch for the night, his back to her. She reaches in her pocket for a weathered slip of paper. She isn’t sure how it’s lasted this long without disintegrating between her nervous fingers. She curls up to mouth the single word written on the paper over and over again before falling asleep.
Boone doesn’t ask her why she says that word anymore. At first, he thought she was Legion. Thought she was saying the name of their ferryman to haunt him. But she says it the way he says Carla’s name when he wakes up from the nightmares that plague him, and so he leaves it be.