Log/Thread: Meltdown and Pretty Boy Who: Tabitha Smith and Ian Voight When: September 14, 2008 Where: Tabitha's room in the Lair What: Ian goes to see Tabby after she's been rescued. He brings ice pops. She is not amused.
It was next to impossible for Tabitha Smith to stay still. Even when she was tired, she had a tendency to bounce around and chatter and basically… move. But she’d finally found the one thing that was going to make her stay still. And that was nearly 9 months help captive by the Friends of Humanity.
After prison, Tabby hadn’t thought there was anything that could be nearly as bad as the raft. But she’d been very, very wrong. As she’d found out. And it was that that had her curled up on a bed in the room she’d been given after managing to scrub most of the blood and grime off of her.
She’d refused the medlab and, since the Friends of Humanity had wanted to keep her around for ‘fun’, they hadn’t caused any life-threatening injuries. Instead, she’d received bruises upon bruises and was subjected to all sorts of other torture that… she really didn’t want to think about.
And, because of all that, Tabitha literally wasn’t moving, in the fetal position with the covers tucked up under her chin. She wasn’t sure why the Brotherhood was letting her stay, but she wasn’t going to question that either. She was determined not to question anything. Because questioning meant thinking and thinking meant bad things and realizing that she was sore and achy and in an obscene amount of pain.
Ian had seen a lot of bad things over the past few months. A lot. But having been with the Brotherhood, it had helped him to learn how to cope with these bad situations. Better than he did before. Usually coping with the situations was him using his x-gene to manipulate the person's personality, but that was really beside the point. He was still dealing with the situations.
Except this one.
It wasn't that he couldn't deal with it. There were a lot of ways to deal with it. He could have left her alone, could have gone on with what he was doing. He could have left someone else handle it. He could have wrapped his filaments around her brain and turned her in to a completely different person. But he didn't do any of that. He couldn't.
Instead, Ian had been making quiet checks on her, taking a moment to stick his head in to the door to make sure she was still breathing, and then continue on his way. He was checking in with Sage to keep her up to date, but he knew he needed to do more. If anyone needed to, he did.
He wasn't sure how to approach her, or to even start a conversation. He'd dealt with a few of the FOH members back before he returned to the Brotherhood, and they were child's play compared to this group.
Two cherry ice pops in his hands, Ian eased the door open before lightly kicking it closed just a bit behind him. He paused before making his way towards the edge of the bed, and then to the side. He didn't want to startle her too much. "I brought you a popsicle, Tabs." Tabitha wasn’t the type of person to angst over the bad things in her life --- and there’d been plenty. She rarely stayed down for long, bouncing back quickly and moving on just as quickly. But this situation had apparently done something to change her. She barely even seemed to notice that someone else was in the room with her. She’d gotten so used to people coming and going to hurt her that she didn’t even look up when she heard people anymore; she just expected the inevitable pain.
But, when she heard a familiar voice --- a familiar voice that didn’t give her nightmares, or, at least, hadn’t given her nightmares until it had up and taken off --- Tabby looked up. She was bruised and cut up and only marginally looked like herself. But the biggest difference was in her eyes, which barely seemed to register Ian. Like she was completely shut down and off. Because she’d had to be, just to get through it without her mind completely fracturing. As it was, Tabitha was lucky she wasn’t stark raving mad.
“…What?” she said almost blankly, staring at him and then at the icepops like they were some sort of foreign object.
Then, “What are you doing here?”
He was trying to figure that out himself. He had wanted to make sure she was okay, but he wasn't sure how to approach her, or it for that matter. He considered it was best not to bring up her time with the FOH, and try to talk about anything else but that.
"I'm bringing you an ice pop," he repeated with a lazy grin. He held it out to her once more, hoping she'd take it. It wasn't filled with nutritional goodness, but it was cool, refreshing, and would keep her hydrated. "That's what I'm doing here." He kept hers held out in one hand, the icy treat slowly dripping in to the napkin he held around the stick. He took a bit into his, and immediately regretted it, it being obscenely cold and all.
He swished it around a bit with his mouth wide open trying to make it melt, laughing at himself. "It's cold."
Tabitha just stared at him. How could she do anything but that. She hadn’t seen Ian since he’d disappeared. And then, without him, the Hellions had fallen apart. And then she’d gotten arrested with Mikey. And god only knew what had happened to him. And then she’d been in jail. And then…
Well, she was going to think about that and then, but here he was, offering a cherry ice pop like nothing was wrong.
Actually, Tabitha probably would have gone along with it if it hadn’t been Ian and if… what had happened hadn’t happened.
After a few more moments of dumbfounded silence, she finally managed, “Fuck off.” Though it was half-hearted and tired, rather than vicious.
"Well, if you feel that way, then I'll just have to eat both of them." Which, well, he would do if she showed even the slightest bit of interest. If it made her laugh.
He didn't move from where he sat, already almost finished his own popsicle, eyeing it before glancing back over his shoulder at where she was laying. "Last chance, Tabs." He took another bite, finishing his off. Hers was still melting, and the napkin was already turning a faint shade of red from the melting juice and ice.
"If not, you're going to be stuck with orange ones."
Tabitha was still ignoring the icepops. What the fuck did she care about icepops. Anyway, she liked the orange ones.
“Where the fuck did you go, you bastard. Is this where you’ve been? Living it up with the Brotherhood? Huh?” It wouldn’t take a genius or even someone vaguely intuitive to know that Tabby was pissed. Pissed at being abandoned, pissed at being locked up, pissed at being kidnapped. And definitely pissed at Ian. “You been having a good time, Pretty Boy? Looks like it.”
Of course. Ian was pretty observant when it came to other people, but he was still a guy. And most guys, well, they weren't observant to obvious things. Wrapping the rest of the popsicles in the napkin, they found their way in to the near by trash can, and Ian sighed, shaking his head.
"Just got back myself, actually." He had considered apologizing, saying how he was sorry he was here while she was there, but no. No, Tabitha was never the sort of girl to pour sugar on any situation, so he was fairly sure he didn't have to with this, either. "I was infected, Tabs..." He trailed off with a shrug. It wasn't any where near what Tabitha had gone through, he was sure, but if she really wanted to know...
"Couldn't have you and the rest of the group getting sick."