[ a note of her first statements but no need to comment for now. s'not really relevant. ]
Could use some quiet. And a drink, actually.
[ by the time he joins her, he's on his second whiskey from the bar 'cause his other self forgot to pack painkillers when he decided to leave new amsterdam instead of do his damn job and hold down the fort.
no denying how strange it is to see her, someone met in the watery halls of his dream alone. there's the pull, too, like he's supposed to go to her now and play into a connection nurtured by unnatural means. not even afraid, as he crosses the largely empty traincar to stand beside table, knocking lightly on the metal to get her attention and gesturing at the seat across from her with his free hand. ]
Is this seat taken?
[ wry but sincere, as his eyes find hers. she can still send him away, after all. for his part, it looks like he slept, even if it feels like he hasn't in years (button-down rumpled and collar jutting at an angle, hair mussed). not quite alert yet, but he schools his expression into neutrality, more watchful than anything else (and earnest, too, despite his misgivings). ]
[ she doesn't drink for pain. at least, she doesn't drink for physical pain. emotional, though? she'll down a bourbon on the rocks without blinking an eye if it'll dull the raging beast within — though that's a bit of an overshare for a first date, isn't it?
so caroline only shakes her head, a friendly-by-default smile warming her features as he settles across from her. it's not a very big table. train cars don't particularly offer a lot in terms of real estate as it is, and between the service bar and the walkway, what's leftover is narrow and compact. not so great for privacy, but perfect for forcing a reminder of intimacy on two people who only met in their subconscious. ]
What's your poison?
[ she can smell it, she knows what it is, but it's a lot weirder to start a conversation with "hey, i can smell your whiskey, they should have aged it longer" ]
[ he lifts his shoulders, as if he might have shrugged, if the movement weren't cut off by a wince. right, best remember his invisible injuries. ]
Figured I deserved a drink, after everything. [ everything in the dreams, well, the other realities. flickering timelines, perhaps. he cards a hand back through his short curls, careful not to irritate his shoulder this time. ]
Can I get you anything?
[ in the short span of his walk, he researched her. very new, likely lacking much disposable income, without much network activity. it'd be easy for him to order her a drink on the implant, if she wants one. just testing the waters. seeing how she'll treat him (what she remembers and what she'll admit). ]
Bourbon, if they have it. [ a beat. ] You don't have to buy me a drink, but thank you.
[ she's not going to turn it down, because free liquor is better than no liquor — and while she'd stifled any modicum of guilt from stamping up when it came to the tub of pretzels now sat beside her chair, stealing a bottle of liquor had been right out. not for any moral reasons, but mostly because it was both far more obvious and far more difficult to explain, and she didn't have the luxury of compelling the bartender to just give it to her here.
so, sure, leo fitz. buy her a drink, and she'll smile the way she's been raised to, sweet and gracious and without the slightest hint of expectation. until she notices the shift of his posture, the way his shoulder seems to seize up in motion, and her brow furrows a bit. if what she dreamed really happened, if what happened carried here, if she wasn't losing her mind altogether... then he shouldn't be in pain at all. ]
[ in a blink, he orders it for her. why not? it's not a negotiation, per se, but they're circling something. better to do it with a drink in hand. ]
Very American.
[ faintly amused — and trying to soften his next statement. ]
I, ah, [ looking down at his drink. ] got into a few dust-ups while we were, y'know. [ he waves a hand. out, under, elsewhere. he's still workshopping the theory. ]
[ then, as an afterthought, glancing back at her. ] But I imagine that was after we met.
[ been sorting through the slippery chronology of his memories, seeking order in the chaos, as always. ]
[ the bartender brings the drink to him, but sets it in front of her. maybe it's obvious to someone who's used to buying drinks legitimately in public settings that the man who's still nursing his drink bought it for the girl who doesn't have one, but to caroline, it's an unexpected surprise. she smiles at the delivery and the gift, another silent thanks, and brings it to her lips.
it's not great bourbon — though they're also not in the south, so that's to be expected — but it's good enough. ]
While we were asleep?
[ filling in the gaps post-first sip, trying to sound casual about it. ]
[ a startled noise, air huffed out in another near-laugh. it is absolutely, unequivocally, undeniably mad — but there’s science to it as well, hidden in theories of alternate dimensions and infinite parallel timelines. and unless she really doesn’t remember, her bold poker face is impressive. might get frustrating shortly, but for the moment, he can respect it. ]
I’d be more worried about that if I didn’t have an incident corroborated by at least three others in my back pocket.
[ shoutout to peggy, cain and markus. ]
So, yeah, while we were or asleep. [ the corners of his mouth twitch. ] Or while we sleepwalked onto this train.
I don't know about you, [ glass tipped side-to-side in her palm, gaze following the shifting surface as bourbon sloshes from wall to wall of the glass ] But I'm getting really tired of waking up in places I never asked to be.
[ is that an incident that can be corroborated, nerd fitz? she's not angry at him, really, knows it's not his fault this is all happening — but he's the only one here, so he gets the brunt of her dissatisfaction.
he also gets a small measure of vampiric self-preservation in the form of wary questioning, offered as non-confrontational as possible. if they remember the same dream, he'll remember doing what she asked. not because he'd wanted to, though compulsion certainly made it feel that way, but because he'd had no other choice. she may not be able to do that here... but that doesn't mean she won't rely on his awareness of it to perhaps back her up.
a wingman, if wingmen were intimidation techniques for blonde haired, blue eyed teenage sweethearts. ]
You're not planning on telling people you dreamed about me, are you?
[ there it is, what he's been pushing for: honesty, no matter the price. ]
Believe me. [ sighing. ] I feel the same way.
[ not his first alternate reality, and this one's giving the last a run for its money in its myriad and twisting threads, cutting into his skin. it's tiring, much like their ever-growing list of questions. ]
No. [ firm. he means that. no need for anyone else to become involved, unlike last time. it's simpler, if he handles it on his own. feigning confidence in the face of her question, he takes a sip. doesn't know what her power is, though he assumes it's to do with the mind, something similar to bobbi and strange, making in person confrontation risky, though he stands by his belief that dialogue is essential to sort this (and of course he's uneasy. how could he not be? after everything that's happened to him, the careful fingers that have plucked things from his mind and moved them around in this world and the other. caroline forbes reminds him of someone he won't soon forget.) ]
[ holding her gaze, ] But if you dreamed about me, too, [ he leans forward, hands clasped together, more curious than anything else (just as he was in the dream, though this is a shade more calculated, with his mind whirring at higher capacity). ] then we have an agreement.
[ and he'd rather like to know how she plans to proceed. can't afford to be blindsided by her in the close quarters of the train or their lodgings in new tokyo. in all things, fitz grasps for control, even if it's a small as knowing her expectations and choosing to meet them. ]
[ she's not entirely sure that she believes him when he says he won't tell anyone. that said, fitz delivers the single-word answer so firmly that she doesn't bother to argue the point. either he will or he won't, and she can't exactly force him to lean one way or the other so long as her chest glows blue when she tries. she could before, but that was in a dream.
a dream where caroline was confident, capable — one where that confidence rolled around each syllable that dripped from her mouth, seductive in a way she's never managed to be in her waking hours. this caroline is softer, sweeter; she's inexperienced in this, still so young in more ways than one.
when she sets her glass down on the table, there's a beat before her head tips, a cautious pause before she inquires: ] So if I say I'm hungry for more than bourbon, Leo...
[ she lets the question trail off, purposefully obscure, as her mouth finds the rim of the class again; silence hangs over the conversation while she sips, slow and steady as her gaze slides up to watch his reaction. ]
[ fitz doesn't know her well enough to spot the shifts in her personality, but he can tell she's more uncertain here. and he tries not to let her hesitance sway him. 'cause he needs to be hardened, no longer prone to sentiment.
(but she told him how she died, and she hadn't sought his company today. he went after her. it feels different, when he knows it shouldn't, still tired and processing.)
for a moment, fitz bites the inside of his cheek, debating his response. how much to give? they both have limited moves, going forward. better to choose than be forced, always. and it hadn't been a terrible deal, given her potential to unlock certain aspects of their displacement — and apparent interest in fitz not being dead. yeah, alright. just another twist of his hands before he decides. bit awkward today, wear enough to be more man the spy. ]
Then I hope you like b-positive. [ one side of his mouth tugs, there and gone, like he might find his own phrasing amusing, even in unsteady circumstances, but there's sincerity in his features, too. they're re-negotiating. ]
And if I still want to understand... [ an echo of what he said in the dream, only he'll have the words to ask proper questions now. his focus settles on her, then, the rest of the dining car (clinking cups, dull chatter) blocked out. ] ...will you help me do that?
[ the nature of her, the blood, and the mind manipulation, yes, but also something as simple as what happens once we reach new tokyo? ]
I guess it depends on what you want to understand.
[ it's not an outright yes, but it's not a no either. it's an i don't know, sincerely given as her glass settles on the table, hands resting just behind it in a loose clasp, right thumb rubbing against the knuckle of the opposite index, as if seeking out where a ring used to sit.
god, she misses sunlight. warmth. freedom. all of it. and maybe he can help her. maybe science can fill in the gap — peter's already offered, though he doesn't know the truth of her condition. and leo is smart, she knows that. looking him up on the network, seeing his interactions with other people; it's a fact so obvious even caroline can see it. he's not a witch, but maybe he can still help her in more ways than one. ]
I didn't get a manual, you know. I didn't even get a welcome gift.
[ it's not a yes, but she elaborates enough that he can abide it. caroline said the change had been recent in the dream, too, and if she woke up here shortly after, it's understandable that the time to puzzle out the finer details has eluded to her. ]
Then maybe I can help you figure it out.
[ more earnest this time, features softer. for all his coldness, fitz was empathic long before the bond sunk into his skin. he joined SHIELD to understand the strange science all around him — and help people. an uneasy deal with caroline can serve multiple purposes, like anything else. ]
[ but that hadn't been the deal, had it? he'd let her feed — something she needed, something she craved — in exchange for not dying. she'd try to answer his questions, if she could. but helping her discover answers to the rest, while certainly kind of him, wasn't something he'd agreed to.
and people didn't often do things for her out of the goodness of their heart, no matter how much caroline tried to be worth it.
stefan helped her learn to control her impulses out of a promise to elena, after all, not because he was particularly fond of her. bonnie made her a daylight ring because stefan convinced her to do it, not because she wanted caroline to have that freedom. fitz would be helping her, but she knew he'd be helping himself most.
she'd just have to make sure she made it worth his while. ]
[ it's hard to get a read on her, with how she's shifted across this conversation and the last, but this seems like a satisfactory resolution, on the whole. ]
I do. [ she's not the only one keen on being perceived as useful, after all. ] So that's settled. [ simply, as if it really is, with a tip of his head. he said he'd assist, so he will. ]
Can I do anything to help you for the moment? Or just before we reach the city?
[ seeing as she'd seemed... uneasy on the network, even if he can't quite understand her. ]
[ it's one thing to take someone's blood in a dream, when your mind knows you can just erase their memories, when you can make them cooperate. it's another thing altogether when people offer — and even now, with jason having given his wrists willingly on more than one occasion, caroline has a hard time recognizing that it's genuine. that it's not a trap, not someone luring her closer with a stake hidden behind their back.
but leo doesn't seem the type. he seems curious, interested, maybe a little in over his head in that regard, but not cruel. he's offering to help when he doesn't have to, without her having to ask for it, and she wants to take him up on that. ]
I can't — [ again, her fingers begin to twist around her index, a nervous tic she's picked up in the few weeks since her arrival ] I can't go outside. Not while the sun's out, anyway. And nobody knows if the windows have shades, or what New Tokyo is like...
[ so it's understandable, she thinks, that she's nervous. ]
Plus, you know. I'm hungry. I'm always hungry, but these pretzels aren't really doing it for me.
[ can't go out in the sun. it's so — old school, like a late night showing of dracula. he came from the night! but he doesn't let the passing thought amuse him, when the ramifications could be dire for her. ]
Okay, no sun. [ aloud 'cause it helps him think. he drags a hand across his jaw, visibly thoughtful. ] We're arriving at midday, so you'll want to move to the quiet car several back from this one. [ pin dropped to her as he says it. ] That has shades for sleeping passengers, but you should be alright, as the journey is strictly underwater until we hit the platform.
[ he shares a document of his notes on new tokyo, researched before peggy departed the first time, and augmented by her debriefing him upon waking and liaising with gaby and el on the phone. ]
New Tokyo is largely manmade, with transport dipping hundreds of feet underwater. [ a casual confidence in this. fitz excels when faced with a problem to solve. ] Reckon there'll be a direct underground connection from the train station to our destination at PRESERVE headquarters, though whether we can take it depends on the extent of the power outages. Regardless, it's likely there will be an above-ground walk from the underground station to the building. [ a beat. ] The blizzard should obscure the worst of the sunlight, but I'm not sure what your limits are. [ his eyes flicker over her, assessing. ] Would layers help? Could always pick up a brolly at the station, depending on the distance we're eyeing.
[ we, he says, not leaving her behind. he leans forward and holds her gaze, voice lowering. ]
And I've the ability to jump distances, as far as I can see, if it comes to that.
[ risky, to be sure, but with power outages across the city, CCTV will be down. and the extreme weather means minimal eyewitnesses, too. they can take the risk, if it means keeping her safe. ]
As for the issue of a, ah... snack. [ laugh track!! his mouth quirks, like he means to be reassuring but ends up sheepish instead. ] Would it be better if we sorted that now or closer to arrival? You know better than me.
[ and he has another half hour before he's due to meet cain and markus. ]
A brolly? [ it's a term she doesn't know, and one that doesn't totally make sense even in context. lift vs elevator she might have picked up, but brolly isn't so much a logical connection to umbrella. ] It's just bare skin. When I was first... you know, when I first woke up, I kept the shades closed in my hospital room and that was okay, but sun on my skin —
[ too vivid and recent a memory. caroline shakes her head, trying to hold back the wince. ]
I could try a big coat, maybe a scarf or a hat? Just while I'm out in the sun.
[ he says we, but she's uncertain if it's intentional or just out of habit. will he expect her to walk the way alone? or to follow the path? she knows rey is here, and rey had invited her into the last safehouse — but rey hadn't known why. still doesn't. she's been careful in her waking hours, if not in sleep. ]
Will you walk with me? Or meet me there? [ a beat. ] I can't go in alone. Someone has to invite me in.
[ it's — strange, in a way. unsettling. to so bluntly put all of these weaknesses and worries in front of him, without the reassurance of being able to wipe the slate of his memory clean should things go wrong later on. but she needs this, needs someone smart and capable and trustworthy to depend on to help her figure out the bits and pieces she's not experienced enough or clever enough to do on her own. she needs fitz, and so — she doesn't lean into the selfless part of his offer, even as generously given as it is. ]
I can wait. For a snack, I mean. I can wait. I'll let you know if it gets too bad, I promise. [ she pauses, teeth worrying at her lower lip. ] I just... you're already helping me.
[ and even if he weren't concerned about her or pleased that she's willing to share details with him (that others can trust fitz as he is now, no longer just an earnest engineer, matters to him more than he can say), the tidbit about having to be invited into buildings is worth it. by now, he knows she bit into poe dameron, too.
something to be addressed at a later time. fitz has to help her, first. already decided that was the priority. ]
I'll walk with you. And invite you in. [ calm and firm, emboldened by how she asks him directly. ] If you don't have a jacket, you can borrow mine. [ he'd woken up with it on his lap, as if he'd fallen asleep beside peggy carter while using it as a blanket. ] Could nick the rest, if needs be.
[ that she demurs his other offer surprises him, after his experience in the dream, but he simply regards her with the same knit features as before, more pensive than anything else. ]
I don't know how much privacy we'll get with PRESERVE, or how long our briefing will last once we're there. It'll be easy enough to pair off for work after that, but if you can't leave the dorms until nightfall...
[ the train's not much better, in truth, with all roads leading to them sneaking off to the loo or somewhere equally suspicious. ]
Suppose I'll come find you in the last hour of the journey, anyway. See how you're getting on, and we can make a call from there.
Okay. [ it's that simple. a weight off her shoulders, a crisis seemingly magically resolved by his own certainty and assured willingness to help her. he'll give her his jacket — not permanently, not the way malone had shrugged his own off his shoulders and draped it over hers, but for the time being — and he'll invite her in, he'll make sure she gets from point a to point b without bursting into flames.
it's more than caroline honestly thinks she deserves, especially after she'd been so aggressive in the dream they'd shared, practically demanding he let her tap his veins in the process. sure, she'd taken care of him afterwards, but she wouldn't have had to if she'd had better control.
guilt, insecurity, nerves — they threaten to capsize her, and for a moment, caroline only looks down at her hands, gently wringing together in her lap. ]
Are you just helping me because you're afraid of me?
[ she doesn't know what the answer is, but part of her knows what she hopes it's not. ]
[ Partially, yes, because he's afraid of what she'll do to him or others. 'Cause he doesn't know if he has a choice (no matter how unsure she seems now, he won't forget her behaviour in the dream). It's the smart move, too. A variable is more dangerous if left unattended. And if she burns in broad daylight, they're all made.
It's also the right thing to do, as an agent of SHIELD and Morningstar.
Ultimately, Fitz thinks too much for his reasoning to be condensed to a single factor. ]
No. [ a beat. ] Does it matter if I'm afraid of you?
[ but he is. he should be, because fear is a logical response to a monster, but caroline doesn't want fear to underline every interaction they have. maybe that's the difference between dreams and reality — awake, caroline remembers that it's not quite as dire as she'd felt in the dreams, not quite so desperate for a live body to snack on as she had felt then. awake, she remembers her own self-control, the tools she has at her disposal.
she takes a sip of her drink, and holds the bourbon in her mouth for a moment to savor the burn. ]
I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anybody.
[ he tips his glass, watching the last of the liquid shift, before his eyes flash back to her. she'd said something similar in the dream — after she'd sunk her teeth in him and compelled him to let her feed.
after all this time, fitz is still fitz, so. ]
Then don't.
[ it's the same thing he said to ophelia. choose not to hurt anyone. choose love, not fear. choose empathy. ]
[ a bit of an extravagant promise when your physiology literally demands the sacrifice of human blood to continue on, but she means it. if there's any way to avoid hurting leo fitz, caroline will find it. even if it means sacrificing her own comfort in the process. he deserves that much.
he drains his drink, and she follows suit; the two empty glasses are then pushed aside, neatly stacked on the edge of their table as a signal to be swept away by whatever barkeep employ might do the task, and in the empty space they leave, caroline sets her hands, palms flat. ]
Do you want to meet me in the sleeping car, then? Before we get there?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Could use some quiet.
And a drink, actually.
[ by the time he joins her, he's on his second whiskey from the bar 'cause his other self forgot to pack painkillers when he decided to leave new amsterdam instead of do his damn job and hold down the fort.
no denying how strange it is to see her, someone met in the watery halls of his dream alone. there's the pull, too, like he's supposed to go to her now and play into a connection nurtured by unnatural means. not even afraid, as he crosses the largely empty traincar to stand beside table, knocking lightly on the metal to get her attention and gesturing at the seat across from her with his free hand. ]
Is this seat taken?
[ wry but sincere, as his eyes find hers. she can still send him away, after all. for his part, it looks like he slept, even if it feels like he hasn't in years (button-down rumpled and collar jutting at an angle, hair mussed). not quite alert yet, but he schools his expression into neutrality, more watchful than anything else (and earnest, too, despite his misgivings). ]
no subject
so caroline only shakes her head, a friendly-by-default smile warming her features as he settles across from her. it's not a very big table. train cars don't particularly offer a lot in terms of real estate as it is, and between the service bar and the walkway, what's leftover is narrow and compact. not so great for privacy, but perfect for forcing a reminder of intimacy on two people who only met in their subconscious. ]
What's your poison?
[ she can smell it, she knows what it is, but it's a lot weirder to start a conversation with "hey, i can smell your whiskey, they should have aged it longer" ]
no subject
[ he lifts his shoulders, as if he might have shrugged, if the movement weren't cut off by a wince. right, best remember his invisible injuries. ]
Figured I deserved a drink, after everything. [ everything in the dreams, well, the other realities. flickering timelines, perhaps. he cards a hand back through his short curls, careful not to irritate his shoulder this time. ]
Can I get you anything?
[ in the short span of his walk, he researched her. very new, likely lacking much disposable income, without much network activity. it'd be easy for him to order her a drink on the implant, if she wants one. just testing the waters. seeing how she'll treat him (what she remembers and what she'll admit). ]
no subject
[ she's not going to turn it down, because free liquor is better than no liquor — and while she'd stifled any modicum of guilt from stamping up when it came to the tub of pretzels now sat beside her chair, stealing a bottle of liquor had been right out. not for any moral reasons, but mostly because it was both far more obvious and far more difficult to explain, and she didn't have the luxury of compelling the bartender to just give it to her here.
so, sure, leo fitz. buy her a drink, and she'll smile the way she's been raised to, sweet and gracious and without the slightest hint of expectation. until she notices the shift of his posture, the way his shoulder seems to seize up in motion, and her brow furrows a bit. if what she dreamed really happened, if what happened carried here, if she wasn't losing her mind altogether... then he shouldn't be in pain at all. ]
Are you okay?
no subject
Very American.
[ faintly amused — and trying to soften his next statement. ]
I, ah, [ looking down at his drink. ] got into a few dust-ups while we were, y'know. [ he waves a hand. out, under, elsewhere. he's still workshopping the theory. ]
[ then, as an afterthought, glancing back at her. ] But I imagine that was after we met.
[ been sorting through the slippery chronology of his memories, seeking order in the chaos, as always. ]
no subject
it's not great bourbon — though they're also not in the south, so that's to be expected — but it's good enough. ]
While we were asleep?
[ filling in the gaps post-first sip, trying to sound casual about it. ]
You know that sounds crazy, right?
no subject
I’d be more worried about that if I didn’t have an incident corroborated by at least three others in my back pocket.
[ shoutout to peggy, cain and markus. ]
So, yeah, while we were or asleep. [ the corners of his mouth twitch. ] Or while we sleepwalked onto this train.
no subject
[ is that an incident that can be corroborated, nerd fitz? she's not angry at him, really, knows it's not his fault this is all happening — but he's the only one here, so he gets the brunt of her dissatisfaction.
he also gets a small measure of vampiric self-preservation in the form of wary questioning, offered as non-confrontational as possible. if they remember the same dream, he'll remember doing what she asked. not because he'd wanted to, though compulsion certainly made it feel that way, but because he'd had no other choice. she may not be able to do that here... but that doesn't mean she won't rely on his awareness of it to perhaps back her up.
a wingman, if wingmen were intimidation techniques for blonde haired, blue eyed teenage sweethearts. ]
You're not planning on telling people you dreamed about me, are you?
no subject
Believe me. [ sighing. ] I feel the same way.
[ not his first alternate reality, and this one's giving the last a run for its money in its myriad and twisting threads, cutting into his skin. it's tiring, much like their ever-growing list of questions. ]
No. [ firm. he means that. no need for anyone else to become involved, unlike last time. it's simpler, if he handles it on his own. feigning confidence in the face of her question, he takes a sip. doesn't know what her power is, though he assumes it's to do with the mind, something similar to bobbi and strange, making in person confrontation risky, though he stands by his belief that dialogue is essential to sort this (and of course he's uneasy. how could he not be? after everything that's happened to him, the careful fingers that have plucked things from his mind and moved them around in this world and the other. caroline forbes reminds him of someone he won't soon forget.) ]
[ holding her gaze, ] But if you dreamed about me, too, [ he leans forward, hands clasped together, more curious than anything else (just as he was in the dream, though this is a shade more calculated, with his mind whirring at higher capacity). ] then we have an agreement.
[ and he'd rather like to know how she plans to proceed. can't afford to be blindsided by her in the close quarters of the train or their lodgings in new tokyo. in all things, fitz grasps for control, even if it's a small as knowing her expectations and choosing to meet them. ]
no subject
a dream where caroline was confident, capable — one where that confidence rolled around each syllable that dripped from her mouth, seductive in a way she's never managed to be in her waking hours. this caroline is softer, sweeter; she's inexperienced in this, still so young in more ways than one.
when she sets her glass down on the table, there's a beat before her head tips, a cautious pause before she inquires: ] So if I say I'm hungry for more than bourbon, Leo...
[ she lets the question trail off, purposefully obscure, as her mouth finds the rim of the class again; silence hangs over the conversation while she sips, slow and steady as her gaze slides up to watch his reaction. ]
no subject
(but she told him how she died, and she hadn't sought his company today. he went after her. it feels different, when he knows it shouldn't, still tired and processing.)
for a moment, fitz bites the inside of his cheek, debating his response. how much to give? they both have limited moves, going forward. better to choose than be forced, always. and it hadn't been a terrible deal, given her potential to unlock certain aspects of their displacement — and apparent interest in fitz not being dead. yeah, alright. just another twist of his hands before he decides. bit awkward today, wear enough to be more man the spy. ]
Then I hope you like b-positive. [ one side of his mouth tugs, there and gone, like he might find his own phrasing amusing, even in unsteady circumstances, but there's sincerity in his features, too. they're re-negotiating. ]
And if I still want to understand... [ an echo of what he said in the dream, only he'll have the words to ask proper questions now. his focus settles on her, then, the rest of the dining car (clinking cups, dull chatter) blocked out. ] ...will you help me do that?
[ the nature of her, the blood, and the mind manipulation, yes, but also something as simple as what happens once we reach new tokyo? ]
no subject
[ it's not an outright yes, but it's not a no either. it's an i don't know, sincerely given as her glass settles on the table, hands resting just behind it in a loose clasp, right thumb rubbing against the knuckle of the opposite index, as if seeking out where a ring used to sit.
god, she misses sunlight. warmth. freedom. all of it. and maybe he can help her. maybe science can fill in the gap — peter's already offered, though he doesn't know the truth of her condition. and leo is smart, she knows that. looking him up on the network, seeing his interactions with other people; it's a fact so obvious even caroline can see it. he's not a witch, but maybe he can still help her in more ways than one. ]
I didn't get a manual, you know. I didn't even get a welcome gift.
no subject
Then maybe I can help you figure it out.
[ more earnest this time, features softer. for all his coldness, fitz was empathic long before the bond sunk into his skin. he joined SHIELD to understand the strange science all around him — and help people. an uneasy deal with caroline can serve multiple purposes, like anything else. ]
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[ but that hadn't been the deal, had it? he'd let her feed — something she needed, something she craved — in exchange for not dying. she'd try to answer his questions, if she could. but helping her discover answers to the rest, while certainly kind of him, wasn't something he'd agreed to.
and people didn't often do things for her out of the goodness of their heart, no matter how much caroline tried to be worth it.
stefan helped her learn to control her impulses out of a promise to elena, after all, not because he was particularly fond of her. bonnie made her a daylight ring because stefan convinced her to do it, not because she wanted caroline to have that freedom. fitz would be helping her, but she knew he'd be helping himself most.
she'd just have to make sure she made it worth his while. ]
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I do. [ she's not the only one keen on being perceived as useful, after all. ] So that's settled. [ simply, as if it really is, with a tip of his head. he said he'd assist, so he will. ]
Can I do anything to help you for the moment? Or just before we reach the city?
[ seeing as she'd seemed... uneasy on the network, even if he can't quite understand her. ]
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but leo doesn't seem the type. he seems curious, interested, maybe a little in over his head in that regard, but not cruel. he's offering to help when he doesn't have to, without her having to ask for it, and she wants to take him up on that. ]
I can't — [ again, her fingers begin to twist around her index, a nervous tic she's picked up in the few weeks since her arrival ] I can't go outside. Not while the sun's out, anyway. And nobody knows if the windows have shades, or what New Tokyo is like...
[ so it's understandable, she thinks, that she's nervous. ]
Plus, you know. I'm hungry. I'm always hungry, but these pretzels aren't really doing it for me.
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Okay, no sun. [ aloud 'cause it helps him think. he drags a hand across his jaw, visibly thoughtful. ] We're arriving at midday, so you'll want to move to the quiet car several back from this one. [ pin dropped to her as he says it. ] That has shades for sleeping passengers, but you should be alright, as the journey is strictly underwater until we hit the platform.
[ he shares a document of his notes on new tokyo, researched before peggy departed the first time, and augmented by her debriefing him upon waking and liaising with gaby and el on the phone. ]
New Tokyo is largely manmade, with transport dipping hundreds of feet underwater. [ a casual confidence in this. fitz excels when faced with a problem to solve. ] Reckon there'll be a direct underground connection from the train station to our destination at PRESERVE headquarters, though whether we can take it depends on the extent of the power outages. Regardless, it's likely there will be an above-ground walk from the underground station to the building. [ a beat. ] The blizzard should obscure the worst of the sunlight, but I'm not sure what your limits are. [ his eyes flicker over her, assessing. ] Would layers help? Could always pick up a brolly at the station, depending on the distance we're eyeing.
[ we, he says, not leaving her behind. he leans forward and holds her gaze, voice lowering. ]
And I've the ability to jump distances, as far as I can see, if it comes to that.
[ risky, to be sure, but with power outages across the city, CCTV will be down. and the extreme weather means minimal eyewitnesses, too. they can take the risk, if it means keeping her safe. ]
As for the issue of a, ah... snack. [ laugh track!! his mouth quirks, like he means to be reassuring but ends up sheepish instead. ] Would it be better if we sorted that now or closer to arrival? You know better than me.
[ and he has another half hour before he's due to meet cain and markus. ]
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[ too vivid and recent a memory. caroline shakes her head, trying to hold back the wince. ]
I could try a big coat, maybe a scarf or a hat? Just while I'm out in the sun.
[ he says we, but she's uncertain if it's intentional or just out of habit. will he expect her to walk the way alone? or to follow the path? she knows rey is here, and rey had invited her into the last safehouse — but rey hadn't known why. still doesn't. she's been careful in her waking hours, if not in sleep. ]
Will you walk with me? Or meet me there? [ a beat. ] I can't go in alone. Someone has to invite me in.
[ it's — strange, in a way. unsettling. to so bluntly put all of these weaknesses and worries in front of him, without the reassurance of being able to wipe the slate of his memory clean should things go wrong later on. but she needs this, needs someone smart and capable and trustworthy to depend on to help her figure out the bits and pieces she's not experienced enough or clever enough to do on her own. she needs fitz, and so — she doesn't lean into the selfless part of his offer, even as generously given as it is. ]
I can wait. For a snack, I mean. I can wait. I'll let you know if it gets too bad, I promise. [ she pauses, teeth worrying at her lower lip. ] I just... you're already helping me.
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something to be addressed at a later time. fitz has to help her, first. already decided that was the priority. ]
I'll walk with you. And invite you in. [ calm and firm, emboldened by how she asks him directly. ] If you don't have a jacket, you can borrow mine. [ he'd woken up with it on his lap, as if he'd fallen asleep beside peggy carter while using it as a blanket. ] Could nick the rest, if needs be.
[ that she demurs his other offer surprises him, after his experience in the dream, but he simply regards her with the same knit features as before, more pensive than anything else. ]
I don't know how much privacy we'll get with PRESERVE, or how long our briefing will last once we're there. It'll be easy enough to pair off for work after that, but if you can't leave the dorms until nightfall...
[ the train's not much better, in truth, with all roads leading to them sneaking off to the loo or somewhere equally suspicious. ]
Suppose I'll come find you in the last hour of the journey, anyway. See how you're getting on, and we can make a call from there.
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it's more than caroline honestly thinks she deserves, especially after she'd been so aggressive in the dream they'd shared, practically demanding he let her tap his veins in the process. sure, she'd taken care of him afterwards, but she wouldn't have had to if she'd had better control.
guilt, insecurity, nerves — they threaten to capsize her, and for a moment, caroline only looks down at her hands, gently wringing together in her lap. ]
Are you just helping me because you're afraid of me?
[ she doesn't know what the answer is, but part of her knows what she hopes it's not. ]
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It's also the right thing to do, as an agent of SHIELD and Morningstar.
Ultimately, Fitz thinks too much for his reasoning to be condensed to a single factor. ]
No. [ a beat. ] Does it matter if I'm afraid of you?
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[ but he is. he should be, because fear is a logical response to a monster, but caroline doesn't want fear to underline every interaction they have. maybe that's the difference between dreams and reality — awake, caroline remembers that it's not quite as dire as she'd felt in the dreams, not quite so desperate for a live body to snack on as she had felt then. awake, she remembers her own self-control, the tools she has at her disposal.
she takes a sip of her drink, and holds the bourbon in her mouth for a moment to savor the burn. ]
I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anybody.
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after all this time, fitz is still fitz, so. ]
Then don't.
[ it's the same thing he said to ophelia. choose not to hurt anyone. choose love, not fear. choose empathy. ]
And I won't be.
[ second chances are very in right now. ]
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[ a bit of an extravagant promise when your physiology literally demands the sacrifice of human blood to continue on, but she means it. if there's any way to avoid hurting leo fitz, caroline will find it. even if it means sacrificing her own comfort in the process. he deserves that much.
he drains his drink, and she follows suit; the two empty glasses are then pushed aside, neatly stacked on the edge of their table as a signal to be swept away by whatever barkeep employ might do the task, and in the empty space they leave, caroline sets her hands, palms flat. ]
Do you want to meet me in the sleeping car, then? Before we get there?
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[ a little nod, then, accepting (if not yet fully trusting) her promise. it's enough for now — has to be. ]
Yeah. [ he stands. ] See you in a bit, Caroline.