noteasytobepink | Even when there's no walls or windows...

Who: Clarice, the Timebroker, Bill?!
When: After the end of Grant.
What: It's like coming home...when your home doesn't exist any more.

She groaned and cracked an eye open, immediately wincing at the harsh light. She was either back in the hospital or...

"Easy, Clarice, you're hurt," the Timebroker sighed, reaching back to pluck pillows out of thin air behind him. "Careful, that's a girl..." he helped prop her upright before patting her hand. "I lose you for a few years and look what happens!"

"...alien," she noted automatically, trying to breathe carefully. Time to take stock: broken ribs, she'd probably at least sprained her wrist, knee hated her, black eye...

"I already set your nose and three fingers," he offered helpfully.

...broken fingers and nose then. Headache. Thankfully no bleeding gut wounds or anything, that would have taken the wormy cake wouldn't it? "Getting soft," she chuckled carefully, licking her lips to clear away the grit of dried blood.

"No, getting lost without a proper team," he chided. "That level should have been a full team, not one crazy mutant backing up a town."

"So...why no team?" she asked, shifting to look at the short man standing beside her bed. Once upon a time a series of kitchen tiles standing alone in a desert would have been weird. Now? Now it was just where the Timebroker lived, and now there was a bed set on the tiles. How thoughtful.

"...because I can't watch everything." The Timebroker settled on a chair that hadn't been there a moment ago and held out a thermometer. Thermometers were important parts of ensuring wellness! That was what observation told him anyway. "There's more than just me out there, I'm a fixer, I meddle more than I should and I care about those that get lost. You fell...right out of my territory. A timeline and reality far past anything I can see. I knew I'd find you again if I watched for you, but the broker in that area was...less than happy."

"...I didn't go there on purpose."

"I know. You saved your team. That's what you do. She just...should have told me. She's the angry sort though. Anomalies are...discarded. So she didn't let me know one of 'MY' anomalies was wandering around in one of her worlds." He...didn't like his own kind much honestly.

"And Wheelsy?"

"Safe," he assured. "For good this time. It was a two event, one defeat, two defeats, out."

She leaned back on her pillows, letting that information trickle through her mind. Good. She didn't ask about Bill; she couldn't. His place was safe. His world was safe. It would be alright. "My team?"

"Still scraping along, you won't be up to joining them for a bit but Morph is saving a spot for you. Speaking of..." he held up a Talus unit, this one a bit more form fitting it seemed. "You lost your last one. I didn't know that was possible."

"Psycho mutant with a knife and super strength," she pointed out, holding up her left arm. That was a faint, almost hidden starburst of a scar on her forearm. The place the last had attached.

"Yes, well, this one is made for you," he assured, sliding the metal and gem sleeve on. "There, how does it feel?"

She had winced slightly when it went on, but she didn't even feel it attach like she had the last. A moment more and the metal had warmed to her skin temp, that was better. A poke revealed she could...feel through it. Huh. "A lot more user friendly," she noted. "It's like a second skin."

"I should hope so," he noted. "It took some time to work up but this one can't be taken from you, I promise. They won't even manage to cut off your arm if they tried."

"...that's reassuring," she chuckled, wincing as her ribs bit. "Don't...want to do that again." Get lost. Get involved.

"I know," he patted her cheek and looked out over the tiles until a kitchen showed up for him. "You rest. You've had a rough time, but you're safe now. We have you back. I'll get some soup going."

"Sorry to make you worry," she noted, already drifting off.

That was for the best. The soup could make itself, yes. The short little man was...pulling on a cloak suited for desert travel and going to trace down the other anomaly. He could send the man back to his own realms, but as he'd mentioned, the broker there wasn't kind to those who slipped between the cracks. If he was smart he'd just send the man away and let Clarice move on; Bill was from a world set where mutants didn't even exist after all!

But...he'd looked after Clarice. That earned him some credit in the Timebroker's book. It was a bit of a walk; being attuned Clarice had shown up where he was, but Bill? Bill had no place now so anywhere in the lost sands.

The Timebroker was good at finding things though. It wasn't long before he was nudging a sandy leg with his boot, "and what are we going to do with you?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There was nothing rational about this to Bill's mind, and he spent his time in the shower very determinedly not thinking about any of it.

Instead he focused on the heat of the water and steam, on the pains of his body, the aches, the bruises, the stiff joints and bone deep weariness. As much as it all hurt, it was a showing that he was still alive.

Which was something, he knew.

Finished with the shower he was surprised to find clothes waiting for him, but considering everything else about this place he probably shouldn't be.

He got dressed and finally left the bathroom, looking around.

The Timebroker seemed to be...holding a cup of ice cream in front of Clarice's face, and saying something about the bowl in front of her? If anyone had to guess it was probably something along the lines of 'finish so you can have dessert'?

Clarice was...cracking her jaw on a yawn instead of eating though, yes. Otherwise, well the bathroom disappeared when he stepped out of it? That was all that changed!

"She ain't one for sweets," he said, sitting down, gingerly, in the chair he'd been in beside Clarice's bed. "Outta see some of the disapprovin' looks she'd give me for things that I'd eat."

The Timebroker blinked at Bill, then the ice cream, then sighed and...put a lemon slice on top? There, not sweet! "Finish your fooooooodddd..."

That, at least, got a soft laugh out of Clarice, as she did lift the bowl t drink the rest of her soup down. "Bill likes sundaes. All the goo you can think if on..."

"Ain't a sundae if it's not loaded with good stuff," he countered, an old argument though this time his heart wasn't really in it.

"You wouldn't happen t'have anything to drink, would you?" he asks of the Timebroker.

"Hmmm, I should have considered that necessity earlier," the Time Broker admitted. "How about a whiskey sundae float?"

"Please remember lack of healing factor," Clarice noted softly.

"...with some coke in it too."

"Just the whiskey'll do me fine," he replied.

"Right, right, hmmm, 1940's sound good?"

Clarice was...wincing a touch?

No helping it, there was a juice glass full of whiskey. ONE THING THE TIME BROKEN DIDN'T REALLY GRASP WAS PORTIONS OKAY?!

Bill eyed the glass, but took it without complaint.

After everything maybe he should drink himself into oblivion.

"Warm soft pretzels and cheese dip if you can Time Broker?" Clarice asked. Just...something he could nibble, and liked nibbling, to help with taht glass of whiskey?

"Do I look like a restaurant?" he blinked.

"At the moment?"

"Point! Pretzels it is!"

Bill nurses his drink, picking at the pretzels but mostly only to distractedly pull them apart in his hands and pile the pieces.

Clarice eventually started stealing small bits? She...honestly had no idea what to even say now. She'd had her melt down, she hurt like hell and...Bill was locked up.

Hell hell hell. "Hey..." yeah, she kinda had nothing to follow that with?

That 'hey' got him to look up at her. He was lost, and he could tell she didn't want him here. What he couldn't tell was whether that was because of the circumstances of his arrival here, or because she didn't want him a part of this life with her.

His expression was asking her to say something, anything really, to follow up that one spoken word with, because he didn't have any words himself. Not for this.

What was she suppose to say? There wasn't exactly a manual on this? "We'll...be okay?" she offered weakly. "I didn't want this for you. I wanted you to have something...better than I'd known," she admitted.

"I feel kind of like I cursed you."

"Yeah," he replies about being okay with the tone of not really believing it.

To the rest he shakes his head. "You saved my life, Clarice."

And dragged him sideways away from everything he'd ever known and the small town he honestly and truly loved. Her team usually, at least, had the idea that they could maybe go home some day. If they fixed enough things. Not HER, but her teams...sure.

But she didn't say that, no, "it's dangerous. You'll need better weapons," she sighed at last, leaning her head on his shoulder.

That's not what he meant, but she doesn't comment so he doesn't say anything.

"Pretty sure I'd hurt myself more than I'd hurt the bad guys if you start givin' me pointy sticks t'throw around," he pointed out.

He might not have had to use his gun a whole lot, but it was familiar, and he was trained with it.

"...I wasn't going to?" she chuckled softly. "But a gun with higher ammo capacity perhaps, some shock armor maybe, I don't even remember what all we've come across in the various worlds..."

"We'll figure it out. Timebroker said we would." And he honestly didn't want to talk about it right now.

He was willing to face it, eventually, but they had time while she healed and speaking about it now only set the hooks of fear deeper knowing how out of his depth he was here.

"Yeah, and he tries to help." Much as he was able anyway? That said she slumped a little sideways to lean her head on his shoulder. If he let her.

He let her, and was glad for the contact. It made him feel solid, holding her up, and made him recognize that he was alive when he could be otherwise.

"Well...I'll let you two...rest," The Timebroker chuffed, smiling.

"At least the company's good," she chuckled softly.

A tired smile turned Bill's mouth on Clarice's words, and he nodded. "Yeah."

She kissed his cheek and smiled, "so handsome...help me back to bed? I'm wiped."

"Sure." He smiled at her then gathered himself to get up, doing it stiffly, then offering her his hand when he was on his feet.

Even when there's no walls or windows...

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