Jaz had moved back to his room eventually, still requiring rest. Dion had looked for Aisling, asking around where she had gone. Blaise was beginning to recover, but couldn't do anything too strenuous. Rory stayed mostly with Emerson, though the thought of the now abandoned hideout stayed on her mind.
Lucy came to visit him one day, holding a package in her arms. "Hey, Jaz," she said easily, coming into his room. * * * From what Dion had learned from Emerson, she had come to him the day of their argument and requested longer scouting missions. She was on one that had lasted a week, but she would be returning that day. * * * Ellis was resting with her, his arm over her shoulder as he wrote some notes from the scouting he had just returned from. "Can you read, Blaisey?" * * * Emerson was checking storage that particular day, making note of their supplies to prepare for the winter. "Do you see... twenty jars of pickled beets?"
He looked up brightening. "Hey, Luce. What's that?" *** Dion had waited for her, feeling rather upset. *** She was leaning against him, her eyes closed. "Yeah. Why?" *** "Yep," she said, observing. "Right there."
"It's a collection of some dried herbs," she said, coming over to him and kissing the top of his head. "I gotta deliver them to Emerson. What are you up to?" * * * The car rolled up that evening and she stepped out of the driver's seat, looking tired. She opened the back doors, beginning to pull out samples she had gathered, rolling up her long sleeves. * * * "Just curious. I didn't know what Garcia prioritized in this clan." * * * He checked it off the list with a nod. "What about 15 bundles of lavender? Lucy should have delivered them."
"Same as usual.. Which is nothing." *** He hesitated before approaching. "Can I help?" *** She nodded slightly. "We can all read and write." *** She leaned against the wall thoughtfully. "Would you ever consider moving back to the woods?"
She laughed affectionately, kissing his cheek. "Hey, I found something I think might make things easier for you." * * * She looked up with a frown, stacking the last box in her arms and closing the door with her hip. "No, thanks," she said sharply, brushing past him and heading for the building. * * * "Huh. We're not very good at it. Well, I should say, I'm not very good at it. Emerson practices all the time and Aisling loves to read and Lucy has to write for her work, so I'm the odd one out." * * * He glanced over at her thoughtfully. "I have," he replied, making a note on the checklist. "Many times. It's my stomping grounds, after all."
He tilted his head, sitting up carefully. "You did?" *** He followed uncertainly. "I'm sorry, Aisling.. I didn't know going to the base would make you so upset. I wouldn't have done it if I knew.." *** She grinned. "You're probably better than me. My only practice is maps." *** She nodded slightly. "Alright."
She nodded before setting down the herbs on his bedside table. "Yeah. Wait here for a sec, okay? I'll grab it." * * * She entered the building, ducking to enter the hidden entrance with a frown. "Do what you want, Dion. You're alone like you wanted - like you preferred - and you can make those kinds of decisions without the inconvenience of someone caring about you. Do what you want. Just leave me alone." * * * "Yes, but you do that constantly," he said, looking over at her. "My scouting notes are hard to interpret." * * * "Why do you ask?" he replied, lifting a linen to inspect the ammo they had stashed underneath.
He nodded, waiting for her. *** He continued to follow her. "I don't prefer to be alone. It's just better for sake of others that way. I just cause too many problems.." *** "Maybe I could help?" she asked curiously. *** "Sometimes I just worry.. The thought of the two clans splitting apart again would be sad."
She returned after a few moments, wheeling in a wheelchair. "See? You can sit in it and then move around while you're recovering." * * * Her laugh was sharp and cold. "Oh, I see. That's the excuse you're going with now? Come on, Dion, you can do better than that. Just go away, there's no need to feel guilty. I'm great. Just leave me alone." * * * He raised an eyebrow, looking over at her and kissing her cheek. "Nah, don't worry. If anything, I just gotta work on my handwriting." * * * "I wouldn't leave you," he said, looking down at her. "You know that."
He grinned. "Wow, that'll be great. Thank you." *** He looked confused. "Excuse?" *** She wrapped her arms around him. "I love you." *** "I know," she said, "but you're their leader."
She kissed his cheek, running her fingers through his hair. "Of course." * * * She opened the door to her room with her hip, setting the boxes down. They hadn't spent a lot of time in her room, but it was a pale grey with lots of stacks of books around her bed. She had discovered some old lanterns and hung them from the ceiling with old gardening twine. She turned to him, frowning. "Yeah, excuse. You don't just say some *squee!* like 'this is why I stay alone', and then come back and say that it's actually this deeply set insecurity. You meant what you said, exactly how you said it. I don't need these excuses. You got what you wanted. Go away." * * * He planted a kiss on the top of her head. "I love you too, weirdo." * * * "I am," he agreed, "but I'm also technically your clan's leader too."
He shifted, his legs swinging over the edge of the bed so he touched the floor. "I need to figure out a way to clean up the first floor and prepare it for winter. That's where the fireplace is so we usually set up a new main room down there for the season." *** He blinked. "Insecurity? Are you kidding me? Fine. You can believe whatever you want. I'm a *squee!*ty person who does things because I want others to suffer. Sure. Fine. You're the one who isn't listening to me. I did say theres a reason I stay alone. You're the one who misinterpreted and now won't listen to me. Sorry." He shook his head before going to leave. *** She looked up at him. "You're the weirdo!" *** "True.." She pursed her lips. "I love you."
She blinked, tilting her head. "I can do it, Jaz," she said eagerly, bringing the chair over to him. "Just tell me what to do." * * * She followed him, her hand on the door to close it after he left. "Don't try to blame it on me, Dion," she replied sharply. "Own up to the decisions you make." She slammed her door behind him. * * * He gasped playfully, kissing above her ear. "Rude!" * * * He gave her a small smile. "I love you too. Do you see any extra linen sheets back there?"
He gave her a grin. "It's kind of a dirty job.." *** He turned to the door, raising his arms in defeat. "I was trying!" *** She chuckled, her eyes bright. "No, you!" *** She went to look. "Yup."
She gave him a playful grin. "I'm dirty! I'm a dirty girl!" She paused before flushing, shaking her head. "Not like that. Shut up." * * * There was no response on her side, except the sound of boxes being moved around angrily. * * * "Hush. You're clearly the rude one here." * * * "Good. How many?"
He laughed brightly. "Wow. I didn't even have to say anything." *** He sighed, watching the door before heading out. *** She sat up, her hand on his jaw and she turned his head so she could kiss him. *** "About five."
"I was quick enough to recognize the errors of my ways," she replied keenly. * * * That night, Aisling woke in a cold sweat, her eyes wide with fear as she surveyed her room warily. * * * He flushed, turning his body to face her so he could kiss her back. * * * "Good. Thanks. I think we're done in here."
"But not quick enough to stop the error before it started," he teased. "Silly." *** Dion was on the roof, watching the stars with a frown. *** She smiled against his lips before pulling away slightly to observe him. *** She returned to him. "Where to now?"
"Yes, yes," she said good-naturedly. "Get in the wheelchair, you invalid." * * * She took a deep breath before leaving her room, heading up to the roof, not bothering to put on her adventuring gear. She was going to go on a run. * * * His nose brushed her gently and he watched her, his brows furrowed. "I love you." * * * He huffed tiredly, cupping the back of her neck gently. "Kitchen storage."
