It had been an hour or so. Rory finally emerged from the room, wiping her forehead with her arm rather than her hand since she had yet to clean up.
She exhaled slowly, sitting next to him cautiously and gently brushing her fingers through his hair, trying not to wake him.
He turned his head into her touch, not waking. ** Dion had returned back with the rest of the group, but hadn't said much. ** Blaise had been treated and was sitting in her room with a frown. ** Rory had gone to clean up, and was now sitting against a wall, her head leaned back.
She sighed and rested her head on the edge of the bed, closing her eyes. * * * Aisling had driven Jaz, Rory, and Blaise back to the camp, so she hadn't walked with the rest of the group back. She went up to the roof of the building and walked to the very edge, looking across the city. * * * There came a small knock on the door. * * * Emerson hadn't spoken to her since their last interaction and had returned to his office, closing the door behind him.
After a few minutes she would feel his hand on her shoulder. *** Dion started upstairs worriedly. A bit nervous to talk to Aisling. *** She looked up. "Come in." *** She got up eventually and went to her room, closing the door as well.
Her eyes opened and she looked at him hopefully. "Jaz?" * * * Aisling took a deep breath, slipping off her coverings and letting them land on the roof of the building, rolling her neck slowly. * * * The door opened and Ellis entered, looking nervous. "Blaise?" * * * After about two hours, there came a knock on the door.
He was awake, looking at her with a small smile. "Hi." *** He came out onto the roof. He didn't say anything, just watched curiously. *** She brightened. "Ellis. You're here." *** It was quiet for a few moments before the door opened a crack and Rory peered out tiredly.
She exhaled in relief, scooting closer to his side. "Hi, you," she said quietly. "How are you feeling?" * * * She walked along the edge of the roof, her hands out to keep her balance. Without her heavier exterior wrappings, he would be able to recognize just how small she was. She was tiny, a compact little package. She wore a cream colored blouse and her brown trousers and walked along quickly, looking down to follow her path. After a minute of this, she took hold of one of the old, rusty flagpoles on the edge of the building and leaned out into the empty air, her free hand outstretched as if to touch the sky, one of her feet hanging loosely off the edge of the building. She hadn't noticed him yet. * * * "I am," he agreed worriedly, cupping her jaw. "How are you?" * * * Emerson stood before her, frowning deeply. He said nothing at first, considering her sternly.
He took her hand and squeezed it gently. "I'm great," he said playfully. "Super." *** He approached quietly, looking up at her. "Aisling?" *** She leaned into his touch. "I'm okay. All patched up. I just need some rest." *** She noticed the look on his face and promptly shut the door again.
She shook her head, kissing his cheek gently. "You're not fine. You were shot," she chided. "Don't ever do anything like that again." * * * She straightened up immediately, looking at him, her whole expression darkening. * * * "Oh, I'm sorry. I can leave if you'd like." * * * He opened the door anyway, following her in. "What were you thinking?"
"That was the worst of luck," he admitted. "I won't do it again." *** He looked down with a frown. "I'm sorry." *** She shook her head, taking his hands. "Please stay?" *** She turned away from him her arms folded.
"Ever," she insisted, her hand on the side of his face. "Please." * * * "What," she said, sounding like she was seriously upset, "were you thinking?!" * * * He kissed her cheek. "Okay. Do you want to sleep?" * * * "Don't turn away from me, Mallory. You realize you could have died? You could have brought the Plague back to the Clan? Did you think about any of that?"
He nodded. "I know. I won't." *** "It was a mistake," he told her. "I shouldn't have done it." *** She nodded, relaxing. "You aren't mad at me?" *** She didn't reply, standing tensely. Her arms unfolded and she brought her hands to her eyes.
She nodded with a small sigh, resting her head on his chest. "I love you." * * * "Yeah, you really shouldn't have," she replied sharply. "What if you had died or something?" * * * "Oh, I am," he assured her. "I'm furious. But I figure that I shouldn't argue with you while you're injured." * * * He came around to face her, frowning deeply. He gently pulled her hands away from her eyes, inspecting her.
