solo (soloing) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2020-02-29 13:05:00 |
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Napoleon had considered taking Gaby to her own home, where she’d possibly be more comfortable and relaxed. But there was also the chance that her idiot friend hadn’t completely cleared things and Gaby might still be in a little bit of danger.
So, once Napoleon was sure it was safe, he bundled Gaby into a cab, giving a different address and pulling out his cell to text Illya. Napoleon figured that he could take Gaby to his new place, keep her safe and out of the way, while Illya made sure this was in fact over and that the burning man didn’t have any associates that could track Gaby.
The cab was just a few streets away from Napoleon’s place, thankfully he’d bought it fully furnished or this would be an awkward kind of laying low, “How’re you feeling?” The adrenaline should be wearing off, and that was somewhat worrying too.
“Nauseous,” Gaby answered honestly, pressing her lips together and taking in a slow, deep breath like that would help stop the shaking in her hands. She felt a little bit dizzy too, but she figured that was probably just the adrenaline. She hoped that was just the adrenaline. She was glad that they were in a cab, that they were going somewhere safe and she could just try and recover from what had happened.
She glanced over at him, spotted that he looked a little worried. “I’m not hurt, though,” she said, wanting to reassure him. “I’m okay.” Physically. “Really. I’m not- I didn’t get shot or anything.”
Rolling down the window, Napoleon hoped a little air might help. They weren’t too far from his place, which would hopefully help, and he placed a hand on Gaby’s knee giving it a quick squeeze. “So long as you’re not injured,” because then he wouldn’t even bother trying to tell Illya not to kill someone, “I can possibly help with the rest of it.”
He certainly wasn’t a doctor, or at all medically trained, beyond stitching up a wound or two he’d be mostly useless for gunshots or the like. “We’ll get you some water, hopefully something to relax with and let the adrenaline wear off.” If she needed to talk he’d be there with an ear too.
The cab pulled into the driveway in front of Napoleon’s newly purchased home, the thief quickly giving him money and a decent tip, hopefully to discourage any idle chat of what he might’ve overheard, before Napoleon was stepping out and helping Gaby. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
Gaby didn’t answer for a long moment, just letting Solo manhandle her into the house. She could feel the fine tremble still in her limbs, the way she comfortably folded into the warmth of Napoleon’s hands and let herself rest against his firm chest as they headed up towards the door and inside. She used the time where she didn’t have to think about directions or movement to try and shut the flailing part of her down, squash it away so she could stop herself from shaking apart.
“Thank you,” she said finally, quietly, once she’d heard the clicking of the door shutting behind them, hand reaching for Napoleon’s wrist so he didn’t pull too far away just yet. “For coming to get me.”
Considering he’d seen Gaby as nothing but put together until now, calm and collected, even while dealing with Illya and his outbursts, or Napoleon’s issues with super powers not too long ago, it hit a lot deeper seeing her so frazzled.
Turning his hand in her grip, shifting so that he had her hand in his rather than leaving her to grip his wrist, Napoleon gave her a stiff smile, “Always, Gaby.” He figured another hug, out of danger, wouldn’t go amiss and wrapped an arm around her shoulders to pull her in a little. “Neither Illya nor I will let a single thing happen to you,” even if her friend was a giant idiot, “and when you call, we’ll make sure one of us is there.”
He did wish he’d gotten there sooner, been closer. That they could’ve avoided all this at all. But he was just glad he managed to get her out without traumatising her further. “Do you need a drink of something?” For her nerves. “Or would you like a shower or bath? Something to help you calm and relax?”
Gaby melted into the hug again, turning her body into Napoleon as his arm came around her. She wound hers around his waist, leaning against him and into him and breathing in the reassuring scent that was unmistakably him. She wondered when she’d started categorising and comparing the way that Illya and Napoleon smelt, but both were as comforting as the other. Something to unpack another day.
“I need you both to teach me to fight,” she said, leaning back after squeezing him once, firmly. “That’s what I need. And definitely a drink, please.” Because the adrenaline was definitely leaving her now and she felt sick and a little dizzy and lingeringly annoyed at herself for falling apart as soon as she was with someone safe. “Not right now, but I think I need to know. I don’t think I know in the dreams, and I don’t want to feel-”
She wet her lower lip, looking up at him. “I don’t want to feel like that again.” Scared. Terrified.
Rubbing a hand over her back, Napoleon wasn’t really rushing Gaby to pull herself together. In the short time they’d known each other he did feel a protectiveness towards her, spurned on by the dreams sure, but Gaby was just far too likeable to not want to keep her safe.
“We can do that,” honestly, he’d be surprised if Illya wasn’t already thinking about ways he could help Gaby learn to defend herself, how to keep herself safe. “We can work on some stuff when you’re ready, how do you feel about getting a gun permit too?” Because if push came to shove, if she could shoot she could possibly avoid getting into too much trouble.
“C’mon, I’ll get you a drink, feel up to eating anything?” He could mix her up a drink, sit her down on the plush couch and help her keep her mind off things, or whip up a small meal and hopefully keep an eye on her for when the adrenaline crash happened.
“Don’t most people in America get shot with their own guns if someone breaks into their home?” Gaby asked with an upward tilt of her head. She’d curled into the touch against her back a little, using it to calm her down. She was safe here. Though, she knew as the tension wound out of her system she would crash.
At least her hands weren’t shaking anymore.
“I would like a drink,” she said with a nod, letting him lead her through to the living area where she toed off her shoes and, after checking she wasn’t dusty, oily or bleeding (which she wasn’t, thankfully), sat on the couch, feet tucked underneath herself in the corner. “Thank you. But I’m not hungry.”
She glanced up, adding with a wry smile, small but there, “I’m never going to get into a situation like this ever again,” she added. “Promise.”
“Only the ones who can’t use a gun properly.” And idiots, but that was largely unsaid. Given that Gaby would likely take direction from Illya and him on handling a gun, and not getting her one with a ridiculous hair trigger mechanism, he doubted they’d need to worry about her shooting herself in a home invasion.
Watching Gaby settle on the couch, Napoleon opened up the bar to the side of the sitting area, mixing up a drink for her with precision, while keeping something of a close eye on her.
“I would really hope not,” and not just because Gaby should be smarter about getting involved in things like this in the future, given her friend and his propensity for dumb ideas, but also because Napoleon was sure Illya might explode. “Not that I have a problem being around to help,” Napoleon held Gaby’s drink out for her, giving her a supportive but somewhat telling look, “but I really don’t think I want to bond with Illya while disposing of your friend’s body.”
That was a degree of bonding they could live without.
Gaby snorted softly, taking the drink and shaking her head. “There are definitely better things to bond over than my stupidity and terrible taste in friends or body disposal.”
She took a sip and leaned back into the cushions.
Even though it had come as a result of a man dying, Gaby finally felt… safe, for the first time in what felt like months, she felt… safe.
“Is it okay if I stay here tonight?” she asked, “I just- would that be alright?”
Taking his own place on the couch, a safe distance from Gaby to let her compose herself, but close enough that it was simple for Napoleon to reach out and place a hand on her knee, giving it a soft squeeze, “Of course you can Gaby, however long you like.”
He wouldn’t admit it, but it was the reason why his newly purchased house had more than one bedroom -why else would he need three bedrooms and a fourth to convert to an office? It wasn’t like he planned for his mother to visit terribly regularly. Gaby and Illya on the other hand, well, if they needed somewhere to stay…
“Why don’t you send the Red Peril the all clear, I’ll go set up the guest bedroom?”
Gaby nodded again. “Yes, that- thank you.” She shifted to fish for her phone, careful not to spill her drink. She knew she’d be feeling really tired soon, but she also didn’t want to go to sleep just yet.
Maybe she could pick out a film for them to watch after Napoleon was finished with the guest bedroom. She could convince him to sit on the same couch as her and she could tuck her feet under his thigh and she’d just be able to bask in the feeling of being safe for as long as it lasted.
“And then I’ll find us a film.”
Giving Gaby’s knee a last squeeze, Napoleon excused himself to sort out one of the spare rooms. Clearly Gaby wasn’t okay yet, but she’d get there. And if part of that was going to be in front of the television with something playing and some company, well, Napoleon had sat through worse nights.
“No spy movies, Gaby,” he tossed it over his shoulder with light joking, because he really didn’t think she’d be in the mood for anything with explosions or gunfire anyway, but there was no harm it checking.
Later, if she wanted, they could order some food in, or maybe Peril would bring it with him. The main thing was that it seemed like Gaby’s brush with psychotic killers might just be over.