shoplifter | Old Game Inboxes.

[She stares at the device in her hands for a long moment, curled in on herself and feeling a little lost at sea.

He's resting because he's hurt. He can't exert himself. He can't move around, because he has a pair of deep puncture wounds through his shoulder. The thought makes her anxious, hands tightening on the Fluid.]

... I did not mean to.

He's been nice to me. I don't hurt — nice people. On purpose.

[Words are hard. She's spent so much of her life avoiding talking, and now that she speaks so often, it's like... a baby learning to crawl. It's hard, and she's sad and frustrated and hates herself.]

[ the irony of it is that pete would've been the first person up and looking for laura if wynonna hadn't told him to relax and sleep for once, so hellbent was he on making sure she was okay, that she wasn't alone.

even remembering it now makes that lump rise in her throat, thinking about the amount of care and concern he has for laura — understanding she never got, when she was that young. ]

I know you didn't. And he knows that too. That's all he kept saying to me. That it wasn't your fault.

[ and she has to wonder how terrifying those nightmares are if they leave laura so scared on waking. ]

I've hurt good people too. Not on purpose. It makes you want to hide because you don't know if you can ever face them again. But the people who care about you — really care — they'll always forgive you. Even if you think you don't deserve it.

... Just because someone says it is not your fault, doesn't mean it isn't.

[Pete would just be trying to make her feel better, wouldn't he? But the fact of the matter is, she's always had nightmares. She should have known she could've hurt someone. She'd always locked her door to her room, when staying at Henry's. It was just... She'd locked it so often to protect herself; she never thought enough on if she was protecting people from her.

She swallows hard, feeling exhausted.]

Did I cauterize his wound well?

It is not infected, is it? I have never had to do it before now.

I know. But I also know he was more worried about you than anything else.

[ to the point where she'd wondered if she was going to have to wait for him to pass out again from the exhaustion of it; she'd already had to insist that it wouldn't help the situation if he just charged out now looking for her.

but then: god. she'd just assumed that pete had done it, that he'd somehow been able to grit his teeth through it. he'd never said it was anything the kid had to do herself. ]

You did. You did a really good job. [ but she still shoots a look in the direction of a bedroom then, and there might have to be words from her about that whole thing. ]

Are you safe where you are? Do you — do you need anything?

[She's not sure what to say to that — saying she's glad she had successfully cauterized a wound she'd inflicted doesn't feel honest. So she quiets, a little at a loss, unsure how to approach this. Part of her feels like she should be running — far, far away. But she cannot run here, cannot get out of Deerington, and there's a sliver of her that thinks Pete would be upset at the idea that she'd fled the town.

She sits with her legs dangling over the side of the jutting rock above that riverbed, pursing her lips.]

... I'm always safe.

I brought food with me. And some clothes... I'm taking time to... calm down.

[To calm down. To not hurt someone else.

Or she supposes herself, but that's not really a concern. She heals.]

[ she doesn't expect that laura is going to want to come back any time soon — she'd said as much, to pete, when he was entirely ready to get up and start looking — but maybe it'll help to know that there's a place to come back to, when she does.

she leans forward, bracing her forearms on her thighs, the device in one hand. ]

Take all the time you need. Just know that — he's here. And, well, I'm here.

[ it surprises even her to say it, but the truth is she cares too. about what happens, about how to help, even if she can't fix things beyond administering basic first aid and offering hot chocolate. even she's not great at this whole reassuring thing. ]

[She nods, mostly to herself. Because it's... nice, to know there are people on your side. Even if those people are the ones you're afraid of hurting.]

... Make sure he does not get out of bed until he's better.

He is very stubborn and annoying.

[She'll... have to return, sooner or later.

Mostly because she's getting an inkling he'll wander off to find her, if she takes too long.

It's very frustrating.

But maybe a good frustrating.

She's not sure.]

[ and that earns laura a quiet chuckle — partly because wynonna's trying not to laugh and fails anyway, but partly because the door to pete's bedroom is cracked open slightly and she doesn't want to wake him up. ]

You're not wrong, kid.

[ he's not even here to defend himself, but whatever. he can deal with it. ]

I promise I'll keep an eye on him, okay? [ she almost voices a comment about him being in good hands but decides against it, mostly because she has limited experience with the whole emergency care deal and sometimes she's literally just winging it as she goes.

but she does know how to clean and dress a wound, at minimum. ]

My offer still stands, you know. No expiration date, good for two mugs at least. If you ever feel like cashing in.

[She does hesitate at the offer... which is telling, because she never hesitates when it comes to food. But despite this moment of grim uncertainty, she imagines that it would be... better. To meet with Wynonna. And maybe even just tell her the truth of the matter. Of why she's dangerous. Why things got so bad.

After all, she got her involved. Seems unfair not to be honest.

... Not being honest is what got the Munson's killed, anyway.]

In three days. 2:00 PM. I will wait for you at your house.

[... Yes, she will find your house. Don't you even worry about how.]

[ she figures, at this point, laura will probably just note the invite and either decide to take her up on it or not; she can let pete know either way, to give him peace of mind, to help him rest easy. anything to ensure that guy gets some sleep, because right now he's snoring like he hasn't gotten this much shuteye in a long damn time.

but then the reply comes, and wynonna sits back a little in her surprise, both eyebrows rising. ]

Okay then.

[ this town's as big as purgatory, and everyone knows everyone there; it doesn't even occur to wynonna to offer directions when it sounds like laura already knows her way around. ]

I'll remember.

[And so she hangs up, feeling sated by the approval. Three days, 2:00 PM. She notes it mentally and vanishes from Deerington's central hub of people in that time, leaving Pete to heal and for Wynonna to help him out. It leaves her peace of mind, to know that someone is keeping him grounded (and grounded in the most literal parental sense, even if she has no concept of it).

Right on the dot, Laura is on the front porch of Wynonna's home, her tattered green backpack on her shoulders and her sunglasses on, completing her too typical stoicism. Maybe she should knock? Knocking seems wise.

.....

She just sneaks in through a window and sits at Wynonna's kitchen table instead, patiently.]

[ She's not late, per se, but Wynonna is halfway across town when she looks at the time on her device and realizes where she's promised to be around now, slinging her bag of groceries from Hart Mart over one of the handle grips on her motorcycle before heading back towards the house. There's no sign of Laura when she parks in the garage, nothing she can glimpse waiting for her on the front porch, so maybe she's still a ways out.

Ultimately, Wynonna figures she'll just unload everything and chill while she waits; so intent is she on making a beeline for that fridge that she doesn't see the tiny figure sitting at the kitchen table — not at first, at least.

When she finally does, expect a small jump back and a hand pressed to her chest. ]

Holy shit. Did you — [ She looks to the front door, then back to Laura, to the door and then back again, mouth working open and closed a few times throughout. ] How did you — when?

... Through the window.

[She gives pause, wondering if she should explain her logic — that she's used to the worst in people, but more than that, that she was trained in these very situations. Ultimately, she's trusting Wynonna — just enough, anyway, so she might as well.]

... I was worried you were actually angry at me, and would have shot me on the porch.

Edited 2019-04-04 20:16 (UTC)

Oh. Wait, which window? You know what? Doesn't matter.

[ Because, knowing this shithole, there's probably any number of windows that are either broken or in serious need of repair besides, so cue Wynonna making a mental note to have Pete stop by and give them all a good checking.

Something tells her that wouldn't necessarily stop Laura from finding a way inside if she was really motivated, though.

But she sets her grocery bag down on the counter and turns; it's probably not a reassuring view considering Peacemaker holstered at her hip. ] Oh my God. No. Of course not. Not the angry part and definitely not the shooting part.

[... Poor Wynonna; fixing the windows wouldn't stop the likes of her, she's right.

Just ask Pete.]

... It's okay. It wouldn't kill me anyway.

[Oh, well. That's a way to start things. She sniffs a little, and can catch the scent of the gun at her side — always has that particular smell. She wonders if there's anything else she can pick up off the woman; she's pretty sure she can catch the fading smell of gasoline. Probably from the motorcycle she happens to know she has.]

I thought you might have questions.

[She owes the woman a few answers, maybe.

And if it turns into something dangerous, she'll stab her in the leg and bolt.]

Oh, that's good, so you'd — wait, what?

[ There's a piece to the puzzle that Wynonna's clearly missing here, and until she gets it she's just going to keep looking as lost as she feels, finally crossing the room with slow and gradual movements to pull out a chair on the other side of the kitchen table, across from where Laura's seated.

It's probably good not to give her the idea that she's going to shoot her, even if Wynonna had absolutely no plans on doing that for starters. ]

I mean — Pete told me a little bit of what happened. You had a nightmare, right? [ She puts her hands on the table, one resting over the other. (And if Laura can pick up on anything else coming off of her, apart from leather and whiskey, there's probably a very faint yet more familiar scent belonging to the other party in this conversation.) ] And he tried to wake you up?

Edited 2019-04-05 21:52 (UTC)

[Laura nods.]

I was born in a bad place... They called it a pediatric cancer center.

... But the doctors did not treat cancer there.

[She gives pause, letting the woman digest what she's saying, because she's learned that it's... a lot for people to take in. Sure, it was normal for her, and she talks about it like someone would their normal, everyday childhood... but she's learned it was anything but.]

They wanted to make the kids born there into weapons they could sell.

Kids who were... not completely human.

[ It is a lot, and Wynonna's thoughts are already racing — a secret government facility, maybe, or some other evil organization with a plot to turn unsuspecting kids into weapons to fight for... what, exactly?

Though the way Laura drops that selling point, Wynonna can guess pretty easily that there's a "to the highest bidder" unspoken within that sentence, and it makes her stomach twist with that realization.

Not so much the non-human thing, because hell, Laura's talking to someone whose boss was basically half a dragon, so that's not the part she's balking at. ]

So — you saw a lot of bad shit. Dealt with it too, yeah? [ No wonder the nightmares are that intense for her. ]

[She nods.]

... They did a lot of bad things to me. Things I see a lot when I'm sleeping... I got angry a lot, and they had to drug me more than the others — because it took more. And — there were tests. A lot of tests.

... Surgeries.

[She holds up a hand, and in one sudden motion, twin blades burst out of her knuckles.]

They put the metal on them, when they finally grew in. I was asleep, but I... still knew... I felt them there. [She looks at her claws, blood seeping down and rolling on her skin from where her skin was split. She looks to Wynonna, wondering what she was going to find in the woman's face. In her eyes.] I was dreaming about that. When he came to wake me up.

And that's when I — hurt him.

[ Based on the wounds she'd seen, Wynonna had figured some kind of knife had been used; it had never occurred to her to ask questions about how Laura could've gotten her hands on a blade, or where she'd pulled it from in order to accidentally stab someone in the first place.

She'd never, not once, considered that Laura could have the knives in her goddamn hands. ]

Ho-ly shit. [ Her jaw drops slowly, first; she looks to Laura's hand, then back to her face, and there's a brief moment when her gaze just ping-pongs between the two, but in light of everything Laura's told her the reveal makes her stomach drop, hearing about the trauma attached. Knowing now where the nightmares come from.

And now she understands, but the first question that leaves her is: ] Does it hurt? When they come out like that?

[She nods, rather casually.]

... It always hurts. [With slow intent, she lets the metal sink back down between bone and tendon; her face is that of someone waiting for an elevator to reach her floor, a sort of languid gesture.] It cuts through a lot, coming out... You just get used to it, though. We had a lot of practice sessions.

[A drip of blood plops on the table as she slowly extends the claws again.]

Usually, it heals very quickly — I heal, very quickly. Bullet holes and stab marks, they used to close up in a few seconds. They take a few minutes now... but the things that can kill people, they do not kill me so easily.

[ There's nothing but matter-of-factness in Laura's tone, nothing beyond neutrality in her expression, and it makes that pitting feeling in Wynonna's stomach that much more intense in contrast — because she knows that face, knows how long it took her when she was that age to school her features into something that couldn't be used against her. No weakness permitted, not even a shred of it.

It's impossible not to look at those claws, the blood that dews up at Laura's knuckles when they're unsheathed, weapons out of nowhere, buried inside those small hands, and Wynonna forces a swallow. ]

Bullet hol — wait, you're saying you've been shot before?

[ Which explains why Laura was prepared for the possibility of Wynonna doing it, and God, there's nothing she wants to do more right now than unholster Peacemaker and throw the whole thing across the room just to get it out of here. ]

[And once more she nods, like it's the easiest question to answer in the world.]

Many times. Especially in some of the trials, after my 'mutation matured'.

[Quoting doctors is one of her many skills.

They mostly thought she wasn't very bright, but she... has quite the memory.]

The place I came from did not see us as a success — they terminated the project, and they started killing the children. Many of us escaped thanks to the nurses, but we were hunted. [She finally puts the claws away, and though there are unpleasant wounds on her hands, it doesn't seem to be bleeding very much; the healing is already slowly in effect, even if it takes a minute or so in this town.] The bad men, they called them Reapers — they chased us. A lot of them hurt me.

[She looks down and away, unsure if she wants to see the woman's reaction.]

I hurt a lot of them, too; I killed a lot of them, every time they found me.

[ It's a heavy subject, with even heavier implications — there's a lot Wynonna can figure out, filling in the blanks by what Laura isn't saying, and even considering the possibilities of what those supposed doctors did to test out the limitations of what she's calling a "mutation" is something she's having a hard time wrapping her head around. Not that she can't understand it, or fathom it, but the limits of her rising anger and frustration over what Laura's been through are being tested big time.

Instead of reacting too visibly, she tries to let her teeth worry at her bottom lip, fingers twisting together. ]

I bet you did. [ Fight back, that is, soft and impressed praise in her tone; she can sense that much about Laura, and that inner fight isn't just something you lose, either. Just like a piece of you is forced to adapt to survive when those kinds of life-or-death stakes are on the table.

She leans forward, but only goes as far as resting her forearms on the table, keeping her hands in full view. ]

Did you have anyone to go to, back home? Anyone who could watch out for you there? [ The thought of Laura having to return to surviving on her own isn't one Wynonna even wants to dwell on right now, even if she's demonstrated that she's more than capable of doing it. ]

[She considers the comment carefully.]

... You mean adults?

[Because there's a very different answer, depending on what Wynonna's looking to hear.]

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