prodigaljaybird: (PB - Alone.)
[personal profile] prodigaljaybird
He can hear Steve shouting through the wall.

Sequestered in his own clinic room, bleeding stemmed and consciousness returned, Jason could go. He's tucked under white sheets, not bound, hooked to a single monitor. Concussed, not dead, and even wounded he could be out of the Compound in seconds.

For the third time in his life, Jason's too afraid to move.

He's never heard Steve so much as raise his voice, never seen him afraid, but muddled though his memory is after being brained by the shield, Jason now recognizes that tightness in Steve's earlier expression as fear.

His view of the ceiling blurs and clears, blurs again, tears sliding in a steady stream down Jason's cheeks. If Steve's afraid, and Steve's angry...

Bucky might be too far gone. Jason had fought his way through a Soviet compound, unarmed and unaided save for what help an injured Bucky could give. But he can't save him from conditioning in his own head. Bucky told him once that the Winter Soldier was a ghost, so untraceably deadly that he was more myth than man. Tabula Rasa can't afford a threat like that. And Steve's afraid.

With a small, helpless sound, Jason closes his eyes. The tears keep coming.

Date: 2012-06-29 02:27 am (UTC)
ms_legendary: ponytail intense (serious)
From: [personal profile] ms_legendary
It's been almost a month that she's been here. Almost a month of this, new tortures every day, never knowing when it's coming, and it's never enough to break her. It's like Chinese water torture, slowly driving her insane.

And then one afternoon, it's not slow anymore. It's a cold, hard, brutal snap. She goes looking for Jason and there's blood on the forest floor near his hut. There've been people here, recently, more than just Jason and Nikita goes from deep, ghostly mourning to deadly again in heartbeats, tracking the blood to its source and then away again.

She didn't want to care about Jason, but she does. And God help anyone who gets between them today. She will find him and if that's his blood on the ground, someone is going to regret it.

It takes her half an hour to find him in the Compound clinic. The chart says it's a head wound, non-fatal. She slips into his room, a shadow in black for combat, hair pulled back, and expression an emotionless mask. Until--

He's crying.

"Jason," and her voice comes soft, as warm as a big sister's or a mother's. "I'm here. It's going to be okay."
Edited Date: 2012-06-29 02:45 am (UTC)

Date: 2012-06-29 03:28 am (UTC)
ms_legendary: a quiet smile (softly sweetly sincerely)
From: [personal profile] ms_legendary
"Jason," again, his name, no condemnation like he would have gotten from his adoptive father. No, vulnerability doesn't have to make them weak and Nikita won't punish him for his feelings. She aches for him, for whatever's hurt him this way.

She moves closer when the sob breaks and rests her hand on his shoulder. He's not scared and he's not hurt badly enough to keep him down. The sounds from the next room over are informative, but she's not clear on what's happening.

It doesn't matter. What matters is that Jason needs someone and she won't leave him alone. Her hand finds one of his, pries it off the sheets, and she lifts it to her cheek while her other smooths back his bangs. "Tell me. Talk to me. What happened?"

Who is paying for this?

Date: 2012-06-29 11:03 pm (UTC)
ms_legendary: soft pretty (golden light)
From: [personal profile] ms_legendary
Nikita listens again for a few beats. She could go and check, but she doesn't want to leave Jason, and none of the men in that room know her. Another time, another place, a roomful of men and Nikita is a simple mark with a smile or a cool sashay. Another time, another place, a room full of fighters and Nikita, is also a simple mark. In with sunglasses and a sidearm and a will to use them if no one tells her what's going on. But this isn't her world and that isn't her battlefield.

Hers is right here and now with a trained teenaged killer drowning in grief.

Nikita takes a long breath and lets it out slowly, counting down her raging desire to demand some answers for Jason. She scoots his hip over with her own and doesn't just park her butt on the edge of the bed, but sits on it with him, one leg up. As long as he will let her, she holds his hand in hers on her knee, grounding him with contact.

"From what I can hear, it doesn't sound like he's going to die." She knows about Bucky, not a lot, but enough from keeping a watch over Jason this past month. "Even if he does, Jason, you're not going to be alone. When I find the way out, I'll take you with me. Michael won't mind--" If he's alive. "And you'll like Alex and Owen a lot. Birkhoff will drive you crazy for awhile, but you'll get used to him. And everyone likes Fletch and Boyscout. They'll like you too."

She knows he'll tell her she's not leaving, and none of them are here, but that's not the point. The point is that Nikita has people, her people, and Jason is one of them now, stay or go.

Date: 2012-06-30 07:44 pm (UTC)
ms_legendary: the light loves her (simply stunning)
From: [personal profile] ms_legendary
Nikita's quick onto her feet, more bothered by his condition than the words he throws at her. Truth hurts, but what are a few more holes where her heart used to be?

She catches him, the same as he caught her, slender arm around his hips to keep him from colliding with the wall. The other wraps tighter, underneath his shoulder and over it to keep him upright, drawn back against her chest - more will than strength holding him there.

"So it tortures us," she says calmly, mouth close to his ear. "You're strong. Strong enough for this. I'm stronger. I won't let it break you."

Date: 2012-06-30 09:33 pm (UTC)
ms_legendary: text - empty and lost (w birkhoff after carla)
From: [personal profile] ms_legendary
Nikita drops her cheek against the back of his shoulder, eyes closing against the rough ache in his quiet voice. She doesn't rush to fill the silence with words. There aren't any for his losses anyway. No more than for Michael's, or Alex's, or Owen's, or hers.

Eventually, there's a soft, simple, "I'm sorry, Jason," as she presses a kiss against his gown-covered shoulder, trying not to think of Birkhoff when he shot Carla, or Michael when he said goodbye to Max.

He's a heavy weight in her arms, but she turns him easily, steering him back to bed before she has to carry him.

Date: 2012-07-03 04:07 am (UTC)
ms_legendary: so damned pretty (Default)
From: [personal profile] ms_legendary
"I didn't just say it, Jason. I meant it." Nikita's voice is persistently, gently stubborn, even while she evades the implied question. "When I go, I'll take you with me. And until then, any time you want to, you can come and stay with me."

She does trust him, she realizes as she draws the sheets up for him and returns to her spot beside his hip. If anyone's after her here, it's also way too late to spare him the connection. He's been marked since the day he let her 'escape'.

Bending down to him, she kisses his forehead and for the first time in a month, she feels enough like herself to say low, for his ears only, "My name is Nikita."

Date: 2012-07-03 05:15 am (UTC)
ms_legendary: so damned pretty (broken bird)
From: [personal profile] ms_legendary
"Do me a favor and don't say that too loud, okay? Maybe only when we're alone." That's as much for his protection as for the fact it hurts to hear it - from relief as much as grief at the unfamiliar intonations.

She settles back again and takes his hand, more affectionate than she usually would be, but he responds very positively to touch. It's worth it for how much it seems to mean to him.

"I could take the easy way out and say I owe you for cutting me down and chasing me around until you knew I wouldn't commit suicide by ex-superhero," she offers, gently teasing. "But I'm not known for taking the easy way out of anything. Birkhoff would probably tell you that it's just something I do. I can't help it. Michael would say I see myself in you and I have to help you, because I can't help me. Alex..." Nikita has to smile for the sound her voice in her head. "Would say it's hard for me to be Sensei without a Padawan."

She shrugs, a lift of one shoulder, and when it settles her ponytail slides across. It's long. Michael would like it, but she's trying not to think of him now. "They're all right, in a way, but I think the answer's more than that. I see the good in you and I can't take the chance someone else won't. The simplest answer really is the truth. I'm being nice because you deserve it."

Date: 2012-07-05 10:45 pm (UTC)
ms_legendary: workout (strength)
From: [personal profile] ms_legendary
Her heart speeds, eyes blur, chest tightens at the memory of staring across a dim basement at Michael, saying the same things Jason is now. There's evil inside me.

"Probably not as many as I have, Jay-bird," Nikita murmurs softly, not wanting to call him Robin, but wanting to remind him of who he used to be, who he is, even without Bucky. She can't be his Michael, his Bucky, his Batman, but she can offer him something maybe as important. "I can stop you if I have to. But I won't. You're more than that. We both are."


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Jason Todd

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