"Shit-!" She lurches at another shipwide shudder and scrambles forward, dropping quickly to her knees beside him. "Rush!"
Things are getting worse, fast. Everything going wrong all around them at once, doesn't seem probable, doesn't seem like it should be happening, but maybe that's just it, maybe this is their way of waking up.
Rush is bleeding bad, his hands burned, a faint smell of scorched flesh in the air. No matter how much chaos bursts around them, none of it seems to touch her; she feels distant, like the whole thing is fading more and more into the background, leaving only Rush in focus. He blinks up at her, she's not sure if he can ever talk.
As angry as she still is it slides away in that moment, too familiar, too much like when she pulled him out of Gus' cell, when he - when he let it slip that he wanted her there. He's dying, abrupt, unceremonious, and painful, and he still thinks this is all real.
"It's okay," she says softly, and he might not like it but she can't just sit there, she reaches out and lifts him up partway, trying to cradle his head as best she can, ignoring the blood that'll be gone when she wakes. "It's okay. It's just a dream."
Another spray of sparks flares out behind her and she barely even feels it.
"You're okay," she says again, trying to get a fix on his eyes. "You'll be okay."
tw: blood, burning references
Things are getting worse, fast. Everything going wrong all around them at once, doesn't seem probable, doesn't seem like it should be happening, but maybe that's just it, maybe this is their way of waking up.
Rush is bleeding bad, his hands burned, a faint smell of scorched flesh in the air. No matter how much chaos bursts around them, none of it seems to touch her; she feels distant, like the whole thing is fading more and more into the background, leaving only Rush in focus. He blinks up at her, she's not sure if he can ever talk.
As angry as she still is it slides away in that moment, too familiar, too much like when she pulled him out of Gus' cell, when he - when he let it slip that he wanted her there. He's dying, abrupt, unceremonious, and painful, and he still thinks this is all real.
"It's okay," she says softly, and he might not like it but she can't just sit there, she reaches out and lifts him up partway, trying to cradle his head as best she can, ignoring the blood that'll be gone when she wakes. "It's okay. It's just a dream."
Another spray of sparks flares out behind her and she barely even feels it.
"You're okay," she says again, trying to get a fix on his eyes. "You'll be okay."