who: Alice Quinn & Takashi 'Shiro' Shirogane when: July 28th, after dealing with Eliot, super late where: Alice & Max's Apartment What: Shiro comforts Alice after her being frightened by Eliot's arrival. warnings: None, just an upset Magician. status: Complete.
» Come over. » Now. » Please.
These were the messages she'd sent to Shiro when her reserve had finally started to crumble. She'd made it home. She'd gotten through the day without breaking. It had started with the alert going off. The very alert that Tony Stark had installed to alert them should any from her world ever arrive in Tumbleweed through the portal. She'd been at the Bureau at the time and so she had been able to rush from her work space towards in take, all while communicating with Tony as she rushed the halls. The image of Eliot Waugh's face had been sent to her phone and she'd broken into a run, so that she could follow his intake every step of the way. Nerves had been bundled and fear had been ever present inside of Alice but she'd forced an iron clad and icy demeanor to be demonstrated. If he had been the Monster, she didn't want it to know she was afraid. She'd been met by Tony within time and that had been when they'd approached Eliot.
Less than two minutes of speaking with him had been enough to push any chance of him being the Monster from her mind. It was Eliot Waugh and she'd felt the fear dissipate from her, but the reactionary reflexes made it so she was on the cusp of expelling tears for the remainder of the day. She held it together. The man actually was another version of one of her former close friends and he'd been a captive in Hell for two years. Whatever fears she had, due to the circumstances of home, she pushed them aside. Once she was free, and she'd left his side for him to presumably reach out to the others, she'd gone home. With the messages sent, she had sat on her bed and pushed her form backwards until she hit her back against the iron headboard rails. She brought her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and bowed her head.
The sound of the sob had broke from her before Shiro had arrived.
…
Things had been lighter between them since they’d gotten back together. There were still plenty of heavy things to deal with, particularly between the two of them, but losing her, dying, and then having those memories implanted in his head all within a span of a few days had made Shiro more grateful than ever for Alice. For just about anything related to Earth life here.
They’d been more playful in their texts, too, so Shiro worried when he saw the direct nature of the ones she had sent him. He didn’t answer, but just headed out immediately.
He let himself just inside the door, although he didn’t go far in case Max didn’t know he was coming over.
“Alice?” he called.
...
Vulnerability was not a thing Alice liked to show. There were a few instances of such in front of Shiro, when she'd found herself crying against him, but they were largely few and far between. The most recent had been brought on when she'd discovered the truth of his memory updates and how he had passed away. It was a discovery she'd not been prepared to cope with at the time and she'd pressed her face against him as she wrestled with that knowledge.
Today's events were something she'd been preparing for ever since her last memory update on the day of the bank heist. She'd been trying to prepare for what to do when the Monster showed up, if he ever showed up. And she knew that had it been the Monster today and not an alternate of Eliot, she'd have kept it together, because her reserve was stubborn and she would stick to it. She would do everything in her power to keep herself, her loved ones, and the town safe. But the burst of emotion that came from the possibility of the Monster's arrival to the sudden slam of anticlimax had brought on the emotional overload that she had held back until back in her own home.
Hearing the door open, and his voice, she brought in a shaky breath. There was a split second of decision. Try to compose herself and pass off what was wrong as nothing; or give in and allow for him to see this.
And hadn't she asked him to come?
"In here," she said, loud enough to be heard, but her voice had cracked with the words. She'd lifted her head just enough to watch the door and wait for him.
…
His heart skipped a beat at the obvious distress in her voice, and he closed the distance to her bedroom quickly. Adrenaline began to sear through his body and, not for the first time since he’d lost his arm, he was painfully aware that he would be next to useless in a fight.
She wouldn’t call him here for that, though. He knew that.
The sight of her crying splintered inside of his chest. He sank down next to her, running a hand through her hair and cupping the side of her face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
…
Her eyes had been latched on the door and seeing him step through made her face crumble once again, whether from relief or shame or both was unclear. But her lip quivered as she watched him make his way across the room and to her side. When he sank down onto the bed, she unraveled her arms from her knees, and brought herself closer to him.
She tilted her head to press her cheek against his palm and took a moment to shut her eyes. Her glasses were already becoming useless. She brought in another breath.
"I ---" She went to try to begin but it didn't work so well. Her throat protested against any attempt to speak and after a moment, she shook her head, and pulled away from his hand. Only, she had shifted, placing her face into his shoulder, as her arms encircled him. Her grip was tight, as if she was afraid to let go, but she was trembling even still.
…
When she couldn’t find words right away, Shiro didn’t press her. He held her closer, wrapping his arm around her in return. It was strange, but the moments when he missed having two arms almost always were associated with her. If he had two arms right now, he could hold her properly. If he had two arms, he could have held her close and still stroked her face.
He made a soft noise that he hoped was comforting because there was little else he could do right now.
...
Even if he felt there was little he could do, his presence was more than she could have asked for, regardless of her disdain for demonstrating her vulnerability. She pivoted her body until she was more comfortable on the bed and her arms remained wrapped against him. And from there, she let herself release all the tension and the fear that had been building these past few months. It wasn't going to go away necessarily, because it was still very much a threat, but she couldn't hold it all in any longer. All that she could be thankful for was that he was there and he was trying to comfort her.
Eventually, the tears and the rising sobs tempered off, until there was relative silence in the room. She shifted, moving to lay down on the bed, but she gripped his hand in a way that asked for him to follow suit with her. With her gaze ahead of her and on the bedroom wall, she brought her hand up to take off her glasses, and rest them against her bedside table.
After another stretch of silence, she finally spoke, "There's another version of Eliot now," she whispered. "He came through the portal this morning." Her voice was quiet and strained but the words came through. She didn't know if she was going to be able to take that rush of fear everytime someone from home arrived.
…
Shiro wasn’t going anywhere, not when she was this upset -- and not when she’d been willing to share this vulnerability with him. He went down on the bed beside her, still quietly touching her in some way.
He paused at her explanation. He knew it would be unsettling if another version of one of the paladins showed up -- particularly him, if he was being entirely honest -- but he didn’t fully understand the extent of her reaction.
“Why is that bad?” he asked quietly.
…
"It isn't," she responded, because that was true, even though she'd shown exasperation at the notion of it. Of course, that had been an outward demonstration, and inwardly she was more in line with being happy that there was potential for a relationship with an Eliot again. Her relationship with the prior one that had resided in Tumbleweed was slightly strained, though there'd been some effort to mend it. But she could tell he wasn't happy with her since she'd told everyone the truth. This new one had no baggage.
For now.
"The Creature that is hunting us can shapeshift," she now explained. "It can be anyone." And now anyone who came through the portal from her world was a suspect. Her hand moved to rest against his as she curled closer against him.
….
“Oh,” Shiro said softly. He understood her fear all too well. She thought that everything she had worried about had come true. And to an extent, it was also worse than he had thought -- he hadn’t realized the Creature was capable of shapeshifting. That had to amplify her fear so many times over.
“It’s not though,” Shiro reminded her gently. “It’s not here.”
…
"No, it's not," she agreed. This was something she had no doubt of. If the Creature had arrived either in a previous time era, or while they were away from Tumbleweed, she knew it would have made itself known by now. And she'd been monitoring the portal diligently along with the others. It wasn't here.
"Tony's alert system worked perfectly," she informed him. She couldn't recall if she ever told him that Tony was involved. But it was a comfort she had about the entire situation. "At least now I know for the next time that it will definitely tell us when someone comes."
…
“Right,” Shiro said quietly. He stroked his fingers through her hair. He knew that she had been preparing for this. He knew it might be a bit much to see if she wanted to keep thinking about how to improve, but he went that direction anyway.
“Is there anything you would change for next time someone comes?” Shiro asked.
...
"I'm going to ask Tony to give me live feed with the alert," she said quietly. It would give her an immediate visual without having to contact him and in the situation they were preparing for, time was of the essence. It would work better if she knew immediately who they were dealing with. If it had been an arrival of someone she hadn't been close to, she wouldn't have known how to guarantee who it was. In that hypothetical, she'd have to ask the others what questions to ask.
She sighed and shut her eyes so she could enjoy the feeling of his fingers in her hair. "Will you stay tonight?" It wasn't that odd of a request. She had stayed with him, or he with her, often these past few weeks. But she wanted it clear she wanted him there with her now.
…
When she closed her eyes, Shiro didn’t ask any further questions. He remained quiet, just continuing to run his fingers through her in a way that he hoped was reassuring and that she liked.
“Of course,” he answered softly. He would have wanted to, but it made things easier that she asked. It was the little he could do right now.