[ She pushed herself too hard - again. There isn't a single reason she wouldn't. She did it every day before and she will do it every day afterwards. She isn't the Guardian Angel anymore. She isn't fucked up on enough Eridium to make her fly and the brain the size of a planet and body that could be ripped apart to heal to do it again and again and again, with veins seared from the inside out.
She's ( see? this is why you'll always need me, Angel. Playing soldier like this, seriously? God, seriously, how are they not laughing. What do you think you are, a freaking vault hunter? ) braced against the wall head sunk down lower as her breakfast of cold protein and stale water came up in heaving gasps onto the training room floor. The sting of wet in her eyes, the shivering cold sweat on her skin. Just a little bit eridium would fix this. Just a little enough to give her wings and light and then it wouldn't matter if she was too short to pull herself up the wall, that she couldn't move as fast as it felt like everyone else. None of it would matter. She could just be what she needed to be, be what she was supposed to be. She could melt someones face off and she wouldn't have to ask herself if she could really handle this -
Enough. Enough, enough, enough. The collar sits heavy still, around her throat as an extra weight. The heavy bag dumped on the ground next to her.
She coughs, snifflingly miserably as she seems to have thrown up everything now. Feels the shake in her legs. Too many sprint runs. Too many crunches. Only more to do later. Her mouthed tasted awful. Like that, caught up in misery, she doesn't really acknowledge him until she sees him out of the corner of her eye.
It's instinctual then. This is different than him helping her with a robot, not after the dreams, not after enough people saw just what life was like for her and she didn't want the help, she didn't want to be weak. Her face turns away from him before she can to give him a chance to speak offer something well-meaning she doesn't want. ]
[ This is familiar. Angel wouldn't be the first person that has thrown up in front of him and she likely won't be the last.
By default, he's moving to her side in an attempt to hold her lest she collapse in her own vomit. He'd been watching her up until then, taking note of her physical limitations and how weak she really was. For a girl her age, she should be much stronger than what she currently is, or at the very least, have an understanding of what she's capable of and knowing when to stop. Pushing yourself is necessary when training, but when it's to the point where one gets physically ill, it does more harm than good.
His hands don't move from her sides even as she reassures him. His eyes are soft as he shares her gaze, devoid of judgement. ]
Your legs are shaking. [ It's time to take a break, girl. He's dragging her towards him, holding most of her weight so he can find her a spot to sit safely. ]
[ It comes out petulant, sharp, desperate. What have they learned - about catching someone in a guard and throwing them back. About using the angle and the weight to throw them if you were big enough, or roll them under if you weren't. She uses it down, defensive, putting herself on the backfoot even if physically can't do a single thing to stop him.
It isn't fair.
But she tries because all she's got to do is try. Pushing at his hands as he moves her. ] I said I'm fine - I don't need any help.
[ Because if she sits, if she sits even for a minute, it'll be over, she'll be asleep. He'll hold still long enough next to her, and she likes him - she likes him too much, she knows that because he's familiar and he's not. If she didn't know it before now, she definitely didn't have any misgivings about how capable and useful he was, more than she could hope to be again, and he's sure of himself and he's probably arrogant because he has every right to be, as if that isn't what she knows best ( he wouldn't be some bandit, he wouldn't. he'd be a vault hunter, there's that glory she sees in them on him ). If he gets her comfortable (it's all out of the running when they get you down), her legs won't be able to be convinced to get back up again. She only had a few more hours more. (seriously, Angel? ) ]
[ Her protests are unexpected but his strong hands are too firm around her wrist and waist to be pried off. He relents a bit, stepping back to give her space. ]
Do you think this is the point of your training? To push yourself until you get sick?
[ His voice is stern, not at all similar to how he usually gently talks to her. ] This is about building your endurance and understanding your limits and working around them.
You'll be hurting your team if you pull this during our mission.
[ She doesn't get far - a few steps, into another wall to rest her shoulder on the hard surface. Letting it take her weight where she can't keep herself up under her own ability at the moment. ]
I won't. I'll be as strong as them - I just have to...
[ Her eyes shut, the light swims behind her eyes. Breathing slowly, trying to get it even. Trying to get it sensible. To not lean into the power and the ache, that heaviness that is her own skin. ]
[ Its disorienting to say the least, dizzy enough as she is. Has to take a second to grab onto the back of his shirt to hold steady before she gets what's happening. ]
Hey - !
[ She pushes, too tired to fight him harder. Yanking at the shirt, swinging her legs. ]
[ Angel's struggle is as about as fruitful as Fiona trying to struggle when Shrek had done the same thing to her in that one movie. Achilles is tall, big, and green, and Angel weighs like 30lbs.
She's not going anywhere.
He makes the journey to his own capsule and opens the door to his room and drops her to the bed unceremoniously. The lights of the water in the jar at the side of his bed reflect off of the walls, like waves. ]
[ The room goes dark and she can't help it - she scrambles - pushing up off the edge of the end of the bed. It's dark and the light of the water dances on his skin brilliant and blue. Distorts the air, shallows her breath in her lungs as she pushes to sit up. The walls close up, shuddering up higher and higher, no way out and - ]
Rider!
[ it's more strength than she has, to get off the bed, to hurl herself as fast as she can after him. He'll shut the door, he'll close it and she won't be able to get out, she won't - ] Don't leave me alone, please, please.
[ It's nothing less than high, panicked, terrified of something so unnameably real to her. ]
[ He hadn't even begun turning on his heel to leave yet when she has her outburst. The panic... throws him off and all he can do is try to catch her before she tries to climb off the bed. ]
Angel, wait! [ Concern saturates his voice, since he's never been good at suppressing emotion. He has to consciously keep himself from raising his voice to talk over her frantic pleas. ]I'm not leaving, okay? I'm not going anywhere.
[ He won't question why she's panicking. Just tries to steer her back into bed. ] Relax. Shh.
[ Placing his hand over the top of her head, he tries to quietly soothe the girl. If she relents, he'll move up into the bed on his knees and pull her into a tight hug. ]
[ Lets him she does - as much a bird rattling inside a cage, feathers she'd pull out of herself in that distress, rip herself to pieces in her only form of defense to the closing fear - she'd be alone, alone in a room, not be able to get out - she hates it - she wants to go back to Paris. Thick and vivid a thought that isn't true. Didn't know Paris except for the bruises and sun on her face. But it is as clear as a breath of air: she wants the freedom to run, to move even when her legs are aching. Even though he was right, she needed to rest, needed to take care of herself. To not treat this body as a shell to wear down like rocks on a shoreline.
But for now, it seems, she'd take what she could as affirmation. Jack wasn't here - knew that not because of looks or voice or the environment, but because Jack would never hold her, and he'd never let anyone touch her. He'd never take half the second that Rider was now.
And it wasn't fair, for that alone, Rider deserved a better point of comparison. But as she lets him move her, buries her face in his neck as she takes deep, he's better than anything she's ever had. This place is full of things she never thought to even care about knowing. It's not since she was so much littler than she was now, not since she came here, that she'd had anything more than the fevered dreams of surgeries to imagine even half of this. ]
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no subject
She's ( see? this is why you'll always need me, Angel. Playing soldier like this, seriously? God, seriously, how are they not laughing. What do you think you are, a freaking vault hunter? ) braced against the wall head sunk down lower as her breakfast of cold protein and stale water came up in heaving gasps onto the training room floor. The sting of wet in her eyes, the shivering cold sweat on her skin. Just a little bit eridium would fix this. Just a little enough to give her wings and light and then it wouldn't matter if she was too short to pull herself up the wall, that she couldn't move as fast as it felt like everyone else. None of it would matter. She could just be what she needed to be, be what she was supposed to be. She could melt someones face off and she wouldn't have to ask herself if she could really handle this -
Enough. Enough, enough, enough. The collar sits heavy still, around her throat as an extra weight. The heavy bag dumped on the ground next to her.
She coughs, snifflingly miserably as she seems to have thrown up everything now. Feels the shake in her legs. Too many sprint runs. Too many crunches. Only more to do later. Her mouthed tasted awful. Like that, caught up in misery, she doesn't really acknowledge him until she sees him out of the corner of her eye.
It's instinctual then. This is different than him helping her with a robot, not after the dreams, not after enough people saw just what life was like for her and she didn't want the help, she didn't want to be weak. Her face turns away from him before she can to give him a chance to speak offer something well-meaning she doesn't want. ]
I'm fine.
no subject
By default, he's moving to her side in an attempt to hold her lest she collapse in her own vomit. He'd been watching her up until then, taking note of her physical limitations and how weak she really was. For a girl her age, she should be much stronger than what she currently is, or at the very least, have an understanding of what she's capable of and knowing when to stop. Pushing yourself is necessary when training, but when it's to the point where one gets physically ill, it does more harm than good.
His hands don't move from her sides even as she reassures him. His eyes are soft as he shares her gaze, devoid of judgement. ]
Your legs are shaking. [ It's time to take a break, girl. He's dragging her towards him, holding most of her weight so he can find her a spot to sit safely. ]
no subject
[ It comes out petulant, sharp, desperate. What have they learned - about catching someone in a guard and throwing them back. About using the angle and the weight to throw them if you were big enough, or roll them under if you weren't. She uses it down, defensive, putting herself on the backfoot even if physically can't do a single thing to stop him.
It isn't fair.
But she tries because all she's got to do is try. Pushing at his hands as he moves her. ] I said I'm fine - I don't need any help.
[ Because if she sits, if she sits even for a minute, it'll be over, she'll be asleep. He'll hold still long enough next to her, and she likes him - she likes him too much, she knows that because he's familiar and he's not. If she didn't know it before now, she definitely didn't have any misgivings about how capable and useful he was, more than she could hope to be again, and he's sure of himself and he's probably arrogant because he has every right to be, as if that isn't what she knows best ( he wouldn't be some bandit, he wouldn't. he'd be a vault hunter, there's that glory she sees in them on him ). If he gets her comfortable (it's all out of the running when they get you down), her legs won't be able to be convinced to get back up again. She only had a few more hours more. (seriously, Angel? ) ]
no subject
Do you think this is the point of your training? To push yourself until you get sick?
[ His voice is stern, not at all similar to how he usually gently talks to her. ] This is about building your endurance and understanding your limits and working around them.
You'll be hurting your team if you pull this during our mission.
no subject
I won't. I'll be as strong as them - I just have to...
[ Her eyes shut, the light swims behind her eyes. Breathing slowly, trying to get it even. Trying to get it sensible. To not lean into the power and the ache, that heaviness that is her own skin. ]
no subject
Enough.
no subject
Hey - !
[ She pushes, too tired to fight him harder. Yanking at the shirt, swinging her legs. ]
no subject
She's not going anywhere.
He makes the journey to his own capsule and opens the door to his room and drops her to the bed unceremoniously. The lights of the water in the jar at the side of his bed reflect off of the walls, like waves. ]
I'll talk to you after you've rested.
no subject
Rider!
[ it's more strength than she has, to get off the bed, to hurl herself as fast as she can after him. He'll shut the door, he'll close it and she won't be able to get out, she won't - ] Don't leave me alone, please, please.
[ It's nothing less than high, panicked, terrified of something so unnameably real to her. ]
no subject
Angel, wait! [ Concern saturates his voice, since he's never been good at suppressing emotion. He has to consciously keep himself from raising his voice to talk over her frantic pleas. ]I'm not leaving, okay? I'm not going anywhere.
[ He won't question why she's panicking. Just tries to steer her back into bed. ] Relax. Shh.
[ Placing his hand over the top of her head, he tries to quietly soothe the girl. If she relents, he'll move up into the bed on his knees and pull her into a tight hug. ]
no subject
But for now, it seems, she'd take what she could as affirmation. Jack wasn't here - knew that not because of looks or voice or the environment, but because Jack would never hold her, and he'd never let anyone touch her. He'd never take half the second that Rider was now.
And it wasn't fair, for that alone, Rider deserved a better point of comparison. But as she lets him move her, buries her face in his neck as she takes deep, he's better than anything she's ever had. This place is full of things she never thought to even care about knowing. It's not since she was so much littler than she was now, not since she came here, that she'd had anything more than the fevered dreams of surgeries to imagine even half of this. ]
Rider - [ Seriously, Angel? ] - I'm sorry. [ Pathetic. ]