ғᴏʀᴅ ᴀʙʀᴀᴍs . (sentinelling) wrote in exsanguious, @ 2015-08-25 22:46:00 |
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ELEANOR: In the time that it had taken Aiden to call Ford and get him over to their apartment, Eleanor had managed to at least change out of her robe (her robe that was still white, and wet now only with water?? how??), and into a pair of pants and a shirt, a cardigan tossed carelessly over the top, mainly so that she could hug it around herself, imagining the cold where there was none. She was seated on the couch now, no longer hysterical but rather far from alright. The lack of composure that she was able to muster was the worst part; Eleanor prided herself on remaining unruffled, cool and calm in any situation, always available as a resource to her Slayer and to the others if need be, no matter the circumstances. But she'd just stood under a rain of blood, had tasted the copper in her mouth, and then it suddenly wasn't there anymore. She didn't know which was a more terrifying thought -- that the Hellmouth had managed to target her for something so awful, or that she was actually beginning to lose her mind.
Her hands gripped tightly around the mug of tea that Aiden had made her (without her even asking, actually, and with no complaining involved -- you knew a situation was serious when..), trying to leech as much heat from it as possible and feeling as though she was getting none. Her entire body was cold. Shock, her mind told her, still trying to behave as logically as possible. Her body was reacting to the shock of it, her mind hadn't pulled out of that flight mode just yet. That was why her hands still shook so much, any time she wasn't using them to grip something like this mug now. She brought it up to her lips, swallowing and tasting nothing but that metallic tinge still. She didn't register the knock at the door, or Aiden going to answer it. She vaguely remembered repeating Ford's name over and over again, telling Aiden to get him here, but her mind was a thousand miles away from that moment just now -- perhaps obvious by how her still-wet hair was piled into a messy bun on top of her head and her face held no makeup at all. Perfect!Eleanor would be ashamed, but there was no room for her here, in this moment, as she stared at a patch of floor just across the room and only saw blood.
FORD: When the call had come through Ford had still been asleep, on the verge of stirring but not quite there yet. The ringing of the phone had snapped him out of it quickly enough however and almost on reflex as much as anything else he’d reached out and snatched the device from his nightstand, bringing it to his ear even before he’d lifted his head from the pillow. Once he understood the situation as it stood he’d wasted no time in dragging himself all the way out of bed and into whatever clothes happened to be closest at hand, a simple t-shirt and jeans with the boots by the door, his feet shoved into them with the laces still poking out a little around the tops. No trip hazards, at least, but far from neat and tidy, his fingers raked through his hair in lieu of an actual brush or comb, his keys snatched from their resting place so he could jog down the stairs of the group home and out the door without even pausing to tell anyone where he was going. It was only when he was in his truck and on the road that he thought that might have been a good idea, to leave a note or send Graham or Kim -- both, most likely -- a text to give them some sort of explanation. That would have to wait now.
Almost as soon as Aiden opened the door Ford was stepping through, the keys to his truck still in his hand with the vehicle parked more than a little haphazardly on the curb outside. At least he’d remembered to kill the engine and shut the door behind himself, all things considered he was counting that as a win. On his way in he’d glanced at the Slayer and asked where she was but already he was on his way through the place and finding her himself, hesitating for a moment on the threshold of the hall into the room before he crossed to the couch and crouched in front of her. Eleanor Mayfield was not a woman who lost her cool, she had perfect poise and composure at all times. The woman sitting on the couch clutching a mug of tea was not the Eleanor Mayfield who presented herself to the world. This was someone rarely seen, someone even Ford had only ever glimpsed in the rarest and most fleeting of moments.
“Ellie?” Not a single thought was spared for the name he used or the familiarity or potential inappropriateness of it, right now it was more important to make sure she was all right. When his hands lifted and settled along her arms, feeling the tremor in her limbs, a surge of very real concern and protective anger rushed through him. “What happened?”
ELEANOR: There it was. That warmth that she'd been unable to find in the layers, in the cardigan, in the tea. It was in Ford's hands, traveling up her arms now, making her feel at least somewhat more woke, somewhat more alive. Her head shifted slightly and her eyes turned to him, still a little blank, still with fear in them. "There was… It was so much blood.. Do you think this is what it's like when they have to see things?" Awful. She knew that the visions were never a favorite aspect of any Slayer's powers, but it was something that she, an outsider, could never really understand the potential horror of. Until now, of course. And all of those poor Chosen that hadn't had Watchers when things had first started changing for them, that must have felt like they were going mad.
She shook her head a little, Ford's eyes and presence and warmth helping to ground her, at least. Helping the world to come back more, allowing for her mind to start working again. She needed to separate herself from this. Needed to think logically. Needed to get all of the details out before anything was forgotten. Her blue eyes locked onto Ford's, a purpose in them now, her words spoken with a serious immediacy. "There was blood. I -- was getting ready, I turned on the shower. Everything was fine. But when I got in, there was...it was blood coming out instead of water. It was all over the place, it was hot. I blinked and it didn't go away. I could taste it. When Aiden.. When Aiden got in, it was different. It was all gone. There'd been blood everywhere, all over the floor, all over my robe, in my hair, in my eyes -- but it was gone. It was just water again."
One of her hands moved from the mug, arm shifting so that her hand could grip Ford's, to help impress the sobriety of the matter. "I didn't imagine it. It was there. It was real. ...And I have no idea what could make something like that happen." Her eyes searched his now, hoping that perhaps he magically had some kind of an answer to this all, something that would make sense and let the world go back to turning as it always had.
FORD: Only the very basics of Aiden's message had sunk in while Ford had been charging out the door so when Eleanor gave him the details he listened, taking it all in now as he hadn't been able to before. Seeing with his own eyes now that she was all right, that she wasn't harmed, helped him to focus as well and he took slow quiet breaths, deep ones that filled his lungs properly and cleared his head. His gaze never left hers even when she wasn't focusing on him properly, when she was almost reliving it and when her hand took his he squeezed her fingers in his own, assuring her that he was real even if the blood hadn't been, not really, not in the way that they both were. "I believe you," he told her, it was important he tell her that, that she hear him say it, because in this strange and dangerous business of theirs there was the ever-present and looming concern of losing one's mind. Eleanor wasn't losing hers, Ford could see it in her eyes, the certainty of belief, not the grasping desperation that came with uncertainty and confusion. Whatever had happened in the bathroom had actually happened, even if it was only to one person.
"Maybe it was a vision," he said to her, maintaining his position on the ground instead of rising to sit beside her on the chair. It would be a while yet before his knee complained and at least this way they could look one another in the eye without having to twist or turn their heads. "Not a dream but something else." It had to have happened before, somewhere down the line. Watchers weren't supernatural at all, they didn't have the abilities or the enhancements that their charges did, but they were immersed in a world of myth and magic and that had to have an effect on them, even if they didn't realise it. Maybe it had worked its way into her system somehow and this was the result. "I don't know what it could mean," he told her, opting for honesty as he always did and offering her a small crooked smile at the same time, as was his way, "but I know you're not crazy. Whatever you saw it was real, I believe that."
Ford's gaze broke from hers then and he looked off towards where he suspected the bathroom was, at least following a logical layout. "It's all gone now?" he asked for clarification more than anything else. "Like it was never there?" That was what she had said but he wanted confirmation.
ELEANOR: It was important, both for him to say it and for her to hear it; she nodded a little, feeling more resolute, that at least this person didn't think she was crazy or exaggerating or simply overtired. And, though she might never say it out loud, he was possibly the person whose opinion mattered the most. She set her tea down on a side table, her free hand now reaching up to tuck an orange-red curl behind her ear, nodding. "All of it. It's not even on my robe anymore. It left as… As soon as Aiden came in." Her voice quieted, knowing that her charge was not in the room with them but still not wanting him to happen to overhear what she was about to say.
"What if this was about him? What if.." What if it was his blood that she was seeing? His blood all over her hands, as would be the case if she couldn't figure out this blasted prophecy that might be putting his neck on the line. "Ford, what if something's going to happen to him? Soon?" The worry in her eyes was overly clear. Eleanor was a tough bird, and stuck to the idea that Watchers needed to maintain a certain level of detachment from their charges or else it could actually destroy them, but that didn't mean it was how she actually felt on the inside. She was still haunted by the memories and feelings of losing her last Slayer, and now (despite her best efforts) Aiden was someone that she had also grown to love. Not in the same way, maybe, but it was there all the same, and the thought of him dead was one that she actively avoided most of the time. To say nothing of the thought of him dead in some kind of a bloodbath.
"I need to get him out of here. To.." She didn't even know where. Where was really safe, when you were a Slayer? When there was some kind of prophecy over your head? Maybe taking him away would be exactly what got him killed. It was too much -- all of the what-ifs, the possibilities, the absolute helplessness of it all. Her hand lifted to go to the edges of her eyes, deftly wiping away tears before they had a chance to fall, annoyed that they seemed to replenish immediately after. "We're supposed to keep them safe." Not precisely, but. If anyone could understand that, it was Ford.
FORD: That dropping of her volume was something Ford couldn’t help but notice and his eyes narrowed a little when she did it, his gaze moving to the doorway through which he’d stepped to enter the room as if to check the Slayer wasn’t lingering there. If Aiden was nearby he was staying out of sight and that was probably for the best, it was becoming increasingly clear now that Eleanor was worried for him more than for herself and she obviously didn’t want her charge overhearing that. Ford would keep an eye out, his senses were keen from years spent hunting wild animals out in the middle of nowhere long before he’d even been introduced to the world of the supernatural and in a place like this there were more surfaces for sounds to bounce off of. Ford would have no trouble hearing someone lurking nearby, he was sure of that.
Her hand was still in his, her other pulled away to tuck her hair back, and he gave her fingers a squeeze again as she voiced those concerns, logical ones he couldn’t help but jump to himself under the circumstances. Would he have thought any differently in her shoes? Of course not. Ford had lost more Slayers than most Watchers his age and there had to be people out there who thought it didn’t have any sort of effect on him because he somehow managed to keep on going when really nothing could be further from the truth. Ford felt every single loss like a physical blow, like a knife being driven right into his gut, so he could understand very well why Eleanor was concerned. Why she was afraid. For a long time now he had known that there was more to this woman before him than the tough facade she presented to the rest of the world and he honoured her by keeping that as their little secret. Behind closed doors he could acknowledge it, react to it, without potentially damaging her reputation.
“Bring him to the house,” he said to her then, his voice firm enough that he hoped it would bring her gaze down to his and lock it there. “Both of you come and stay there with the rest of us.” One boy in with all those girls wouldn’t matter, it couldn’t, at least if they were all under one roof they could keep everyone safe and not have to worry about things like this, vague uncertainties that might mean one thing but could mean any number of other things. “If this is about him then we’ll protect him, all of us. It’s what we do.” They were all in this together. As unconventional as it was for so many to be stationed in one place they were still a team at the end of the day, all of them fighting on the same side of an ongoing war.
ELEANOR: Her eyes stayed on him as he spoke, taking in the words without immediately dismissing them or closing off to the idea. Maybe it was weakness, maybe she would be bothered by it later, but at the moment the sheer amount of comfort that his words gave was so desperately needed. It was enough to make her reconsider her stance, even. She'd wanted Aiden in a separate location from the rest in part because of the distractions that she was sure he didn't need, but also because it seemed like asuch a target to her. But now the opposite was true as well. Maybe this was a warning to her instead of a threat, that death and blood were still in the cards, even here.
"It feels like no matter where we go with them, it won't be enough to protect them." Even with the house as a safeguard, they'd lost Slayers. And it wasn't anything new, really. It was the legacy of that line, to die in the line of duty, to go out every night with the knowledge that they may not be coming back. It was a terrible, horrible burden, especially for ones so young, and not for the first time she couldn't help but fixate on how unfair it was. Aiden, all of them, they should be thinking about parties and dating and school and, god, even Instagram. Not demons and death and if any given day would be their last on this Earth.
She looked down to her hand in her lap, for once seeing only the weakness in her slender fingers. "I can train him, and I can teach him, but I still won't be there for him in the end." She would take a bullet for Aiden, without a second thought. But she knew that it was only a metaphorical situation. She didn't have the Slayer speed to stop one, the strength to knock back a vampire, the knowledge to outwit Fate itself.
She shook her head suddenly, hand raising to rub at her cheekbones once more, that resoluteness returning to her eyes. "I'm sorry. This is.. Thank you, for coming over. I shouldn't be going on like this. It just shook me more than I expected."
FORD: That was part of what made him so good at his job, that ability to connect and bond with the people around him, the compassion that came from growing up in a family as big as his. The way he was with Eleanor was different, obviously, it always would be because of their history and there had been times since his arrival in town when he’d felt a tension, not necessarily a positive one either, but that was all gone now, in this moment he could be reassuring and speak to her as the woman he’d known all those years ago back at the Council Headquarters when they’d been seeing one another in a manner Eleanor had ultimately decided was unprofessional and, ultimately, hazardous. Ford hadn’t seen it that way but despite what else he might think about the way she conducted herself he respected the hell out of her and he’d honoured her decision, they’d parted ways amicably and now here they were, more than a decade later, reunited and still able to touch on that connection they’d had in the past. In a way that in and of itself was comforting, at least it was to Ford.
With a smile he shook his head, sending his dark hair tumbling lightly across his brow, a little falling into his eyes. “Hey,” he said, his voice low, quiet, intimate in a way it perhaps shouldn’t have been, “I’m pretty sure I would have had the exact same reaction in your shoes.” Narrowing his eyes for a second he went on to add, “Well maybe not the exact same reaction.” That was meant to be a lighthearted remark, intended to ease the tension, remind Eleanor that as uncertain as some things were others never changed.
“You’re sure you’re all right?” he asked her after a few quiet moments, his expression concerned again, wanting to hear her say that she was fine and wanting to believe it as well. Given how well they knew one another he would know if she was lying.
ELEANOR: It made her laugh a little -- an actual laugh, not a sob disguised as one, or disgust with no other way to express itself. "I'd feel worse for Graham than you, if it had." Rushing in on Ford slipping all over the bathroom and screaming at a high-pitched rate, a lady's robe the only thing protecting his dignity.
She nodded a bit to the question, still collecting herself but at least seeming to have mostly gotten it all back under control. "I will be. I need to… start looking into some of the older books, make a few calls." Identify the cause of this, or at least try and find a pattern, some other times something like this had happened and if anything had then come of it. The Council might have information as well, something not in the journals for whatever reason, advice on what to do with it. Having even that small a semblance of a plan was good, comforting in some way. Gave her a focus and a purpose. Crying and speculating wouldn't do anything to help Aiden, so she needed to find something that actually might.
She blinked suddenly, looking to him, the immaculate hostess in her suddenly revived (like organs all sparking back to life in a struggling body). "I'm so sorry, I've had you kneeling here the whole time - can I make you something? Tea? Food? Do you want to sit down?" She didn't specifically call out the knee and how uncomfortable that position must be for him, but she still knew that it probably wasn't ideal.
FORD: There was that laugh he’d missed, the one he’d so enjoyed hearing back at Headquarters when they’d been involved, it had always been a good day if Ford had been able to get that sound out of her and he was glad he still had that skill under his belt. It might not be a common occurrence, that genuine sound that had no front attached to it, but that just made it all the more enjoyable in his mind. If it was rare that made it special. Never say Ford Abrams wasn’t a romantic deep down.
When she snapped right back to hostess mode he couldn’t help but smile, the sort of smile that betrayed just how endearing he found that mindset of hers. Trust Eleanor to offer him a drink or some breakfast when she was the one who’d had the fright of her life. “I’ll agree to food,” he said to her, looking up at her with his eyes slightly narrowed, the sort of expression he tended to adopt when he was putting some plan of his into motion, “on the condition that I get to help.” Because she might be the hostess but he was helpful, his parents had raised him that way, and more than anything he wasn’t about to just sit around while Eleanor fussed in the kitchen.
She was going to have to accept his help whether she wanted it or not, basically.
ELEANOR: She waved the idea away with a hand as she began to get up -- there was a moment of reluctance to let go of Ford's hand, but she did, and then quickly tried to pretend that hadn't happened by flitting her hands up to mess with her hair. "You'll just make a mess and get eggshells in things." It didn't matter what they were going to be cooking, she had faith in that, apparently.
"Aiden hasn't had breakfast yet, which means he's probably already filled up on something unhealthy. I need to at least make sure that he gets some protein." She was moving towards the kitchen then, talking about whatever it was she had in mind to whip up, more and more comfortable as she did so and her mind had a familiar track to rest on.
There was a moment where she paused, though, in the midst of getting out pans and food to be cooked, where she offered Ford a smile and a mouthed 'Thank you'. It wasn't much, but his coming over had been everything to her.