During a day in the life of the //Vanguard// sickbay, Abigail discovers that no news is really just the prelude to the worst news of all.
Location: Sickbay, //Vanguard//
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 1046
Most of Abigail's left arm? Not in a good place. It's heavily bandaged, held completely immobile, though at least Cadmus didn't order the nurses to tie it to the bed. Just gave her an awkward splint along the side of her body. Which leaves her right arm free, but makes it damned hard to reach anything on the side table. She does her best though, stretching fingers out to try to bring the thing closer, only to have it slide out from under her fingers and bang into Jonas' knee.
Geoff's least broken parts are his left arm and his legs. He closes his eyes to keep from doing something like leaking water out of his face, then opens them again when Miko speaks. His dressings have been changed, so he presents a cleaner picture than earlier.
Thunk! There's a sharp wince as Jonas is jostled awake by Abigail's movement, and the Marine flinches awake. "Frak." he hisses." Most of his chest is bandaged up, a loose shirt pulled over it as he offers up a smirk. "Could have just asked." he murmurs as he sits up a little straighter to push the table a little closer. "Welcome back.'
Miko drops a hand to Aldrich's shoulder. "Sit, sit. You're fine right where you are, Padre." He's used to sliding around patients and visitors and other medical staff, and he easily slithers up to the monitor and watches the current readout.
"You were sleeping. And I could have reached..." she trails off, momentarily, trying to focus her attention on the approaching table, pulling it close enough to the side of her bed, "Only needed another inch." She manages to pull the water closer, but that straw is going to be a problem, as she can't bend at the waist either, "Shouldn't you be...somewhere not here?" Trying to actually move and not continue the path to lumphood seems to clear her head a little, enough for her to look around at the other patient in the room. "He okay?"
Aldrich nods a little, and settles back into the chair, taking Mikolas at his word, but he watches as he heads over to look at the monitor. "He's just pretty out of it on the pain meds, I think."
Reaching to take up the water, Jonas passes it over to Abigail, bending the straw for her to grab a hold of. "If I wasn't here, that'd been a total pain in the ass." he says with a little frown. "Looks like he's going to pull through." There's something else there, but the Marine shrugs it off. "Sergeant Jayne didn't, though. Anyway.. can't really leave yet. Didn't want to lay down in bed. Can I get you anything? Magazine? Candy?"
"I'm no lightweight," Geoff claims. "You come to Caprica and I would show you a /party/. I'm just happy to be alive."
"Aaaaaall for the better. Sit back and enjoy the ride, Geoff." Miko's taken his own splint off his fingers, having needed their mobility earlier, and now he's just wearing bandages across the knuckle. He makes a slight adjustment to the IV drip as he starts singing quietly, "I can show you the world. Shining, shimmering splendid!" Satisfied, Miko's attention goes to the pair of men as he digs a little specimen bottle out of his pocket and gives it a shake. The flakes of metal inside clatter against one another. "Thought you might like a souvenir."
"Thank you," Abigail lifts her head, sipping the water before she lies back, "I would have been alright, just waited for the nurse to come over. They do come by fairly regularly." A smile though, comes after. "I'm sorry about Jayne. I didn't know him well, but it's hard to lose anyone. I'm just glad we made it out with the prisoners." Spoken like a true Coastie. "No, I'm fine, the water was enough. Not sure I can eat anything yet."
Aldrich smiles a little, still with that edge of concern. "Maybe someday I can take you up on that," he answers Geoff's claim, and glances back to Mikolas to see what he's doing with that IV.
"I didn't know him either. It was the first mission I'd been on. Didn't even know what colony's he's from." Jonas admits with a little frown. "I'm supposed to meet with Colonel Ryan later, I hope to get the information then." he offers as he smiles in response, meeting her eyes for a moment, before he glances towards where Miko, Geoff and Aldrich are. "I think they're busy at the moment." he teases a little as he sets his hand over the forearm of Abigail's right arm. "Don't try to move your left arm much, it was pretty torn up."
"S'okay. Lot of people hurt worse than me, at least from what I could hear while they were talking between shifts." In that in between time when the staff compares notes and updates charts, "I just want to be able to lie on my side. And have an ice cream cone. I miss ice cream cones." Just a hint of a smirk there, "Don't worry, I think Captain Cadmus tied it down pretty well."
"That would /really/ be something," Geoff says. "Watching you /party/. Se you turn up at the club where I used to work." The idea seems to amuse him, but he knows better than to laugh.
"Ice cream cone?" Jonas lifts his brow, thinking for a moment. "I can't promise a miracle, but I'll see what I can do about it." he offers to Abigail. "Good. Because right now, you need to concentrate on healing."
Miko sets the little container of the shrapnel that was pulled out of Geoff onto the tray. "Don't let the Padre fool you, he can booty shake it with the best of them." He flashes Aldrich a quick wink before he's skimming past to head to Abigail's bed, greeting them both with, "Well if it isn't a bay of beautiful blondes. Say that ten times fast. How are we feeling, Walker?"
Aldrich snorts faintly at all that, but he seems mildly amused, himself. "You work on getting healed up and once we're both out of here, maybe we'll make that happen," he seems to be at least slightly joking, but who knows if druggie-face will know it.
Abigail shifts her attention forward, as Miko approaches, eyes studying his face, as if trying to recall if she knows him from anywhere besides here, patching her up. After a moment, it seems no, but she still offers a friendly, if a bit slow, smile. Painkillers are such life. "Much better, thank you. Well, the part of me I can feel, anyway, my arm's still numb." Mostly, she manages to mask the worry there.
"Hello." Jonas greets Mikolas when he comes over. "Sorry, getting to know people still. I'm Sergeant Jonas Ignvar. Formerly part of the Aquarian Signal Corps."
Geoff is a little slow on the uptake. "Wait, what's that, that's what they dug out of me?" he asks, looking over at the little container. "Better have been more than /that/," he grouses. Then he looks to Aldrich. "Dunno, gods might strike you dead," he says.
Miko plucks up her chart from the end of the bed and flips it open, "And I'm Sergeant Mikolas Kovac, I'll be your flight attendant this evening. Please be aware that in case of an emergency landing, your thin-ass mattress can be used as a flotation device. Beverage service will begin after we reach our causing altitude." A pause as he clicks the pen he pulled out of his scrubs pocket. "Pins and needles numb, or the one night stand I brought home last night fell asleep on it and I'm afraid to move, numb?"
Aldrich chuckles quietly. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's just a sample," he reassures, then adds, "I'll just make sure to do a sacrifice to all the gods of partying. It'll be fine."
"If we're still getting to cruising altitude, I'm so complaining to the crew." Jonas offers with a little chuckle as he withdraws his hand from Abigail's arm to settle back into his lap. "Thank you for your help, Sergeant. Between you, Rhodes, and the doctors.. saved plenty of lives last night."
"Does that mean I can get the extra peanuts?" Abigail waits, allowing Mikolas to look over her chart, "Abigail Walker, Staff Sergeant." Seems strange they're all giving their rank, considering, especially in her case, Miko can read it on her chart, but hey, when in Rome. "Mostly the first one. Couple of spots where I can't feel anything at all. Mostly it just feels like my arm is wanting to catch fire."
"Tell me about /those/ gods," Geoff says, looking to Aldrich. "Those are /my/ gods."
Scribble scribble. "Some nerve pain and feeling loss are completely normal when one takes a rocket to their arm. I'll let the doctors know, but it's nothing you should be concerned about. I'll put in a request for an ultrasound to check blood flow. Wiggle your fingers for me? Don't move your arm, just give me a little 'hey there girlfriend' twiddle." Miko even demonstrates. "Don't mention it, Sarge." He says an aside to Jonas.
Aldrich gives a bit of a crooked grin. "You'd like Dionysus, I think. God of fertility, wine, and music. He basically just wants people to get drunk as often as possible..." He glances up, then back to Geoff. "I brought you some magazines," he adds, with a gesture to the stack on the bedside table. "Do you want anything from the mess hall, maybe?"
"Yeah, but who wants babies?" Geoff asks rhetorically. He reaches for the magazine. "I'm not hungry," he says. "And I don't know if I'm even allowed to eat. Got all...ripped up."
Abigail looks a bit askance at Mikolas, but, well, he is the boss. And then she looks down to her hand, summoning all of her strength. She really needs to focus, but yes, she manages it. Barely, but she manages, before letting her hand fall still, glancing briefly to Jonas, the look trying to be reassuring, "Any way you can help adjust the board though?" The one holding her arm strapped to her side, "It's poking in an uncomfortable pale."
Aldrich chuckles faintly. "Who, indeed." Then he frowns faintly at the news that Geoff might not be allowed to eat. "Right... Sorry. Ice chips or anything?"
"Don't push it too hard." Jonas responds, as he's sitting down next to Abigail's bed, his own chest bandaged and covered as he talks with the Picon blonde while Mikolas checks in on her. Aldrich and Geoff are at another bed as he moves to fill her cup with ice water and chips.
"I'm okay, preacher," Geoff says. "Everything's great. I'm alive, right?"
Aldrich nods a little. "All right. So if you don't mind, I'll sit here and pray for you for a few minutes?" He closes his eyes to do just that, assuming Geoff doesn't expressly forbid it. If he does, Al will just pretend to agree and then sneakily pray from the hallway, ninja-chaplain style.
Aubrey Naxos steps into the Sick Bay, looking a bit wide-eyed and worried. She's carrying some surfing magazines from Picon in one hand, a get-well soon gift no doubt, as she steps to the desk. "I'm looking for Abigail Walker. I was told she's here. Can she have visitors?" The Picon brunette looks at the orderly like 'No' would be a very bad answer to give her. She's in her off duty gear with her hair back in a messy bun.
Aubrey is pointed in the direction of Abigail's bay where Miko is now moving around to her side to adjust the overly large immobility board her arm has been strapped to. "Afraid I can't give you any wiggle room, we don't want to undo all the hard work Doc Cadmus did on you. He'd have my hide, and not in the fun way. Here we go." He makes some minor adjustments to try and make her more comfortable.
Geoff doesn't forbid prayer, letting his eyes drift closed again.
"You don't want to screw it up worse, can't teach you to make a snowman if you do." Jonas is clearly teasing Abigail, though as the other Picon beach bum shows up, the radioman is already moving to rise to surrender his seat to give it over to Aubrey unless stopped. "Looks like you have company, Gale."
"There's a not fun way, with Doc Cadmus?" Apparently Abigail has nothing but good things to say, or think, about the man who put her arm back together. Abigail can't really move, being Mikolas isn't really loosening the bandages and other accoutrements that are keeping her arm immobile. But she can wiggle enough to keep it from pinching her boob, which seemed to have been the primary problem, "Thank you. That's loads better." A shake of her head, as she sees Jonas get her water ready, eyes instead looking back to his chair. Just his company seems to be the thing. And then Aubrey is heading her way, and Abigail's face brightens, "Bree. They let you out of your cage?"
Aubrey moves to the bay she's been directed to, curling the magazines in her hands unconsciously. She steps inside and looks utterly amused at the two men hovering over her friend, and can't help but bark out a laugh. "And here I was worried you were really hurt, Abby! Frak, save some men for me, will you?" She winks at the guys and moves to give her friend a kiss on the forehead which looks to be about the only place the woman isn't injured. "How you feeling, sis?" she asks, happy to take Jonas' chair.
"Trust me." Miko says about Eli with a smirk down at Abigail then the medic checks her IV fluids and steps aside so another visitor can file in. "Sorry doll, the sponge baths are for patients only." He says with his smirk turning his lips more fully into a smile. "Now if the pair of you wear her out, by the Gods, I'll flush you out of the airlock. Call me if you need anything. Just hit the shiny red button that sends out my vigilante symbol into the sky."
"Sis?" That gets a lift of his brow as Jonas looks between Abigail and Aubrey. "Learning new things about you every day." he offers to the Picon blonde as he goes over to peek at the chart and talk to Mikolas. "How long should she be on light duty, and how much therapy will she need on the arm, you think?" And the comment about the wearing Abigail out gets a laugh, though it's short because that sorta hurt.
Geoff might be dropping back to sleep. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open, head lolled to one side. There is a faint snoring sound. The Sick Bay is not the most romantic place.
"Maybe you just need the right drugs, like me. I thought he was a doll." Oh, yeah, serious medication. A smirk, "But they make such a nice pair. Light and dark, you know." Another word of thanks, as Miko sets her to rights and moves to head off, "I've known Aubrey since we were both barely out of diapers. She lived down the beach from us. I don't think there was a day between...what, five and fifteen, she and Addy and I weren't up to some sort of shenanigan." She looks between the pair, "Jonas Ingvar, Marine, Communications. Aubrey Naxos. Viper Pilot. You both know me. Talk amongst yourself."
"I brought you some surf mags in case you get really, really bored. Which I'm guessing will be when visiting hours are over," Aubrey teases. She sets the magazines down on the bed within reach for Abigail. At Mikolas' words she locates the red button, because she's pretty sure Walker might at least need sedation by the time she leaves. "Nice to meet you, tall blond guy covered in bandages. I won't remember your name until you do something to impress me." Then her smile fades considerably as she looks back to Abigail. "Actually Abs, we need to talk. Privately, for a few minutes, ok?"
Something in the conversation around him causes a pinched look to Miko's features, and his bandaged hand starts rubbing at his forehead to smooth away the wrinkles that are forming. Finally he registers that Jonas asked him a question, "That's a question better left for time. First we have to make sure she's out of the woods, yeah? We'll know more in a few days." Vague answers are vague.
"Got it." Jonas says, though as Aubrey makes the request, he glances to Mikolas. "I guess this is where we make ourselves scarce so the girls can talk." Though something in Aubrey's tone has him glancing to Abigail, quietly seeking to see if she really wants him to leave.
"The last guy she remembered walked past her practically naked." That's right, Naxos! Abigail is telling all of your secrets! "Oh! Think they'll let me paper the walls with them?" But the humour in her expression seeps away, as soon as Aubrey gets serious. Because Aubrey never gets serious. Not when even two of the three musketeers are together. A glance to Jonas, a faint shake of her head. 'Don't go far.' Then her eyes are back to Aubrey, "What's happened?"
Miko fidgets with his pen a moment, "Yeah, well." He glances back to the Aubrey/Abigail combo. "If they start scratching each others eyes out, just hit the fire suppressant system button." His smile seems more forced now, like he really had to muster it. "We'll hose 'em down." With another nod, he excuses himself to do more rounds.
Bree chooses to sit on the side of the bed, rather than the chair, for this conversation. Might be unwise, as it gives Abigail a chance to hit her, but it also gives her a chance to take up her friend's undamaged hand, which she does with uncommon gentility. "I got a message from my dad yesterday evening," She begins. She lets that much sink in. For Edmund Naxos, who has withdrawn from everything since his wife's death, to reach out to his only child, something awful had to have happened.
"Will do." Said quietly, Jonas doesn't crack a joke as he watches Abigail's expression sink, the radio man settling his hands across his stomach, not listening in on the conversation, but watching the reaction of the two women, just in case.
Abigail follows Aubrey with her eyes, even without any words, the feeling of impending doom is already rising, giving her the beginnings of that overheated feeling that comes just before panic really sets in, "He's okay, Bree? There's nothing..." This is the man who spend many a summer day taking turns giving pony rides to the two girls, who never complained that one time when a four year old Abigail accidentally tore a chunk of his hair out. And for Aubrey, who's already lost her mother...it's for her that Abigail is concerned.
"Dad had a visit from your parents, Abby. They all had a talk and they told him something. Something they didn't tell you, wouldn't tell you. But my dad knew you deserved to know, so he told me." Aubrey grimaces, and it looks like the news has weighed on her a great deal, because she's very out of sorts for her usually boisterous self. "Promise me you are not going to freak out and try to get out of this bed, and I will tell you. Otherwise it's no go."
The panicked flush is rising, Abigail face, always emotive, showing the fear rising in her eyes. But she knows Aubrey. And that girl will hold on to a secret like a high class housewife holding on to an alimony check. So she does the best that she can, tamping down the worry, trying to calm her voice enough to be semi-believable. "I promise." It's probably a bald-faced lie, but there you are.
There is a long, long pause before her head rises and she looks into Walker's eyes. "It's Addy, Abs. He was shot down over Picon, behind enemy lines," Aubrey says quickly, to make sure she gets it out before she loses her nerves. "They haven't been able to recover him." Recover. That word means that it's been long enough that they've stopped any attempts at rescue, because he's presumed dead. The brunette's eyes well up with tears and her hands shake where they hold Abigail's. Addison Walker was not just like a brother to her, he was her first crush growing up, that unrequited puppy love you never, ever forget. The smile all others are measured by in her eyes.
If there was some sort of news, some terrible thing that Abigail was expecting, it both was...and wasn't this. She had been blessed, as Picon survival stories went. No lost family, no destruction of home, or property...Aubrey had lost someone, most of her family from the Marines had lost someone...some had lost everyone, but not Abigail. But had she not been unable to contact her brother for months? Hadn't all of her letters and videos been undelivered? Hadn't all of her requests for information...from his command, from her own parents gone unanswered? And now that the news comes, now that the other shoe has finally dropped, Abigail just...drifts, staring, eyes focused somewhere in the area of Aubrey's hip, or, perhaps more accurately, on her right forearm, the place where half of her own genetic code had been tattooed, completely still, momentarily beyond hearing or seeing. Senseless in a suddenly senseless world.
Aubrey clenches her jaw reflexively, and her voice is thick with the effort not to start crying again. She did a ton of that last night in her bunk. She needs to be strong for Abigail now. She moves a hand to brush Abigail's hair back gently, in a motherly gesture, despite being two years the marine's junior. "I have half a mind to steal a Raptor and go look for him myself. That boy has avoided marrying me for long enough," she declares, with a pained smile. It's a longstanding joke between the families, that Addison would marry Aubrey and then they'd be related for real.
They had just talked about this a few nights ago, about how others were selfish and upset that Abigail had been blessed with no losses in her family as she comforted him. He knows that look, that look of loss and confusion, and now he drifts a little closer. When Abigail starts to collapse completely, the Marine moves far more quickly to be at her side, next to Aubrey, because she's going to need all the friends she can handle at the moment.
A longstanding joke, yes. Indeed, there had been a time, when they were barely more than girls playing dress-up, when they had planned out the whole wedding. Aubrey would wear a white dress, Abigail would give Addison away. Her brother. Her twin. Her. Twin. But for the now, Abigail still has no words, and only the increase in the shaking of her hand in Aubrey's seems to indicate any reaction to the news, any sense that she's seeing anything outside of herself. No words to speak, no words to protest, only a low keening sound, so pained, so wretched it's more animal than human.
Bree climbs into the bed next to Abigail and just holds her like she used to when there was a bad storm outside. "I don't believe he's dead, Abby. I won't," Aubrey whispers to her friend. "And you can't either. He's just fashionably late getting back from a mission. You know Addy is never on time for anything, ever. He probably found a bar on a beach somewhere and stopped by for some drinks and to bang all the pretty girls." For six months.
There's a quietness from the Aquarian as he stands silent watch over the two women. Jonas has no remark to make for the loss, just trying to remind Abigail that he's there. He's not going to run away or abandon her. He knows her pain, knows it keenly, but for now, all he can do is let the woman that has known her longer tend to the hurt and heartache.
An early memory, the three of them, on a sleepover at Edmund and Alice Naxos' house, toddlers, sleeping beneath their blanket fort like a pile of puppies, after falling asleep reading by torchlight. Only for Abbie to wake as the hurricane raged outside, terrified, and for Aubrey to be there to comfort her. But now there's no storm, save for the one the woman brings with her, the keening turning to screams, the sound only barely muffled against Aubrey's chest. Her free, and isn't that ironic, covered as it is with bandages, hand flexing, reaching for something, for someone she can't quite get to. Reaching for the Aquarian standing just on the other side of the bed the two women have retreated to.
Seeing that movement of the hand, Jonas moves around the bed, a steadying hand set on Abigail's shoulder. "We're here." he says quietly. Bree and Jonas, his other hand moving to capture hers. It's to keep her from trying to flee from the bed, to make her injuries worse as he draws in his breath, looking for a nurse, trying to gauge Abigail's reaction and considering calling for a sedative, just to calm the Marine down.
Those waves wash over Abigail, relentless, remorseless, fear, and pain, and grief, and loss, and some emotion she can't even place, raising the pitch of her voice until she screams herself hoarse. Her hand tightens, painfully grinding Jonas' finger together, as the man and woman come to bracket her, the keening cutting off like the sound cut off as a door slams shut. One gasp, then a heave. And another heave. As Abigail fights for breath through a throat clogged with grief and loss...and worse...betrayal. Because they knew. They knew...and They. Did. Not. Tell. Her.
Jonas' presence is registered at the edges of Aubrey's awareness, but she doesn't do anything about it. Her focus is fully on Abigail. She places a hand over the other woman's heart and says quietly. "This is still beating. You'd know if he was gone. You'd feel it stop, if just for a moment, like that time he almost drowned in the Bay when he flipped off a wave and his board leash got caught on the reef and held him under the water. You knew the moment he ran out of breath, you knew, Abby. So he's still out there. He is. I know it. Feel it, Abby."
He's there but Jonas has no words to add. He allows Abigail's small fingers to crush against his digits, and the Marine winces slightly, but his hand moves to capture hers. "Still here, Gale. Not going anywhere." he finally promises her quietly.
Always. Always it's been Aubrey's voice that has brought Abigail through the storm. Not only in her childhood, but in her adulthood as well. When Abigail returned home on leave, uncertain, unsure, afraid, without her twin, without the three of them together, it was Aubrey who kept her together, reassured her. Aubrey who always made sense, when she questioned herself, when the world seemed to close in around her. Because the woman was right. Wasn't she? Hadn't Abigail and Addison always been that way? She would start a sentence, he would finish it; he would fall down, she would cry. And now as she finally seems to be coming back to herself, finding her way back to sense, hand still tight on Jonas', body still cradled against Aubrey's, her voice is hoarse. "They lied to me. They didn't tell me." A hitch in her voice, "I called his command. They said...they said I wasn't his 'next of kin'." Her voice is shaking, but with a deeper, harder emotion, "They cut us out of the same womb, but I wasn't his 'next of kin'."
"Dad yelled at your Pop," Aubrey murmurs. Abby's dad was always 'Pop' and her mother was 'Ma' to Aubrey, while her birth parents were Mom and Dad. "Dad hasn't yelled at anyone or anything since Mom died, so he must have really been mad at them for not telling you. He said Ma couldn't stop crying, that she was scared you'd hurt yourself or try to be a pilot or something and get yourself killed." Thus the promise she not try to get out of bed before Bree broke the news. "It's a shitty, shitty thing, not telling you. But you know now. We both know. And he'll come back to us." She nods to Jonas, a small signal that she thinks now that the other woman's focus is on her parents' lying to her, she's going to be all right.
That might have been a signal from Aubrey to let go, but Jonas isn't. Not until Abigail tells him he can let go of her, as the Marine remains in place next to the young women.
Anger, deep, roiling anger has a way of washing away even the hardest of grief, and Abigail's voice is hard now, but, also, in its own way, as distant as the lost look of moments ago. "Of course I'm going to find him. Of course we'll bring him back." Even if all she brings back is a body, "You have to go out." It's what makes a Coastie different than a Marine, what's always made her a different animal than her fellows since she left the water. Above and before everything, a Marine, at his or her core, is trained to take lives; a Coast Guard sailor is trained to save them. To go out, and to keep going out, until the rescue is effected or their own life is given in the attempt. If that is what the job demands. "We'll have to bring him back." And no, she doesn't let go of Jonas' hand. She might, possibly, relent on trying to crush his fingers though.
"I know, sis. And we will. So you need to heal up. I can't take you anywhere with that arm looking like you punched a Cylon square in the nads with it. Do they have nads? I guess they don't. Huh," Bree gets a bit loopy when she's emotionally spent. She strokes Abigail's hair. "You gonna be all right? I've got duties tonight, but maybe I can pass them off on someone else if your new brawny blond guy can't take care of you," she notes, giving Jonas a bit of a strained smile, worry still in her eyes.
There's a little snort at that. "I have a meeting with Colonel Ryan." Jonas admits quietly. "But I wasn't planning - or able to venture far." He has his own injuries that are still healing after all. "Gale, if you want some time with your sister..." he offers quietly. Not a retreat, just saying he'll be there as long as she wants it.
"You go, Aubrey, you need to do your duty." Duty, even more relentless than the tides on Picon. Or the cold on Aquaria. "You both need to go and do your duty. I'll be alright. I need. I need to be alone," The word comes out clipped, "I need to see if I can find him." Cryptic and strange. Perhaps it is just so much psychological mumbo-jumbo, when they say twins have some sort of mental connection. Perhaps not. Maybe all the woman really wants is time alone with her grief, her anger...and her memories of her twin. "I'll be here."
"I'll swap with Hotshot then, Blond guy. I think he's a little scared of me after the news that I blew up an AA battery on a stolen transport the other day," Aubrey says with a tiny bit of a smile. "With one shot," she adds. This skinny little model-esque surfer girl is apparently scary when in a Viper. Who'd have thought it? "I'll let you do your thing, but I'm coming back to check on you every hour, even if I have to sneak in through a ventilation duct to avoid the orderly after hours." Which she would TOTALLY do. It seems she understands fully what Abigail means, and she looks relieved at it. She kisses the woman's forehead again. "Back in an hour, sis." With that she gets up, careful not to disturb the wounded woman, and heads out to track down a pilot to swap with.
After Aubrey leaves, Jonas leans over Abigail. "No doing anything foolish without me." he asks her, a soft plead in his voice. He's feeling Aquaria all over again. That he's going to be pushed away for something else and then just forgotten about until suddenly back in her life as his hand is the one squeezing this time, seeking the Coastie's lifeline. "Please."
Abigail gives Jonas no response, save perhaps the only response she can, the only response that is true, and honest, as her good right hand tries to draw him onto the bed, to take Aubrey's place, to allow her to cradle herself against his chest, and, perhaps after a while, when the tears come again, and the pain, to cry herself to sleep against him.
Jonas moves around the bed so he can settle as best as he can. His frame isn't as small as Aubrey's, and the bed isn't made for couples, but he gives it his best effort as he holds the tanned blonde until she finally drifts off again. Placing a kiss against her forehead, he leaves a note on the table. 'Back soon. Love, Jonas.' And with that, he's heading off to meet with Ryan.