Re: log, Stark Tower: Becky L/Steve R
[Part of her wanted to scream at him to go away before he could talk. The silence was maddening but, at the same time, Becky took a strange sort of comfort in not knowing. She could pretend that way. Pretend that Jonathan was okay, somewhere, that he'd get her out, that they'd find another door and bask in the afterglow of their success. He'd tell her that he was proud, that he loved her, and all those dead people wouldn't even matter.
But the man in the suit was going to ruin all that. She knew it. Some hero type, probably; she didn't know or care. Why should she? There was no way he cared about her.
Her fingers twitched when he said he had bad news. She wanted to cover her ears so she didn't have to listen. But that would be childish, and it would be weak, and she was neither. So she just blinked at him, and she waited, and she heard the words she wanted so very badly to deny. Maybe he was lying to her. But why? There was no need for a trap when she was caught, and they didn't need her to confess anything; the proof was inside her. There was no reason to lie about Jonathan being alive, even if he was really, really badly hurt.]
You're not sorry. [It was a whisper, and Becky really, really didn't want to cry in the middle of a glass cell but she couldn't help it. The tears came unbidden, blurring her vision, and her lip quivered. He couldn't be dead. Jonathan couldn't be-- he was all she had, what was she supposed to do now? Was this it, the rest of her life to be spent in a cell like some kind of animal at the zoo?
She got to her feet, albeit unsteadily, as the tears spilled over onto her cheeks.] You're not sorry! [Her voice rose to a shriek and cracked, and she trembled as she stood there, trying and failing to get herself under control.]