[ Carolina settles a cold hand in his and Wash feels her emotions settle against his in a similar fashion -- unpleasant but expected. Enough like what he's feeling that instead of setting him off worse he just feels like they understand each other, and she gets back an echo of the same frustration and anger tinged with a sense of loss, as Wash starts cleaning her knuckles.
It's not until he's going for the gauze again to wrap one of the deeper scratches that's still bleeding that the memory Carolina is so focused on comes through. He goes still as a statue, having never experienced this before. It's different from the empathy bond, that he's so used to, more immersive and terrifying for that. Perhaps his burst of startled fear is what tips Carolina off, but by then his grip on her hand has tightened to the point she'll have to actively yank away.
Because this is something Wash actually wants to see, in a morbid, grief-soaked way.
He never really knew how it went down, with Connie. And he'd told himself it didn't matter, but he'd then gone on to imagine it, and his imagination tended to be worse than the reality. But Carolina pulls away from him when she realizes, leaving him shaken and unsteady with both hands still out in midair, blinking in horrified, desperate fascination.
She's going to cry, and what's the worst part of this is he doesn't think to comfort her first, he has to check himself from lashing out that she cut off the memory. He needs to see it.
"We don't need you, just your armor," fuck is right. How bad did it get? How much did she suffer? Who landed the final blow? ]
Don't-- please. [ He chokes it out, inarticulately, his voice strained and shaken. ] I need to see the rest.
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It's not until he's going for the gauze again to wrap one of the deeper scratches that's still bleeding that the memory Carolina is so focused on comes through. He goes still as a statue, having never experienced this before. It's different from the empathy bond, that he's so used to, more immersive and terrifying for that. Perhaps his burst of startled fear is what tips Carolina off, but by then his grip on her hand has tightened to the point she'll have to actively yank away.
Because this is something Wash actually wants to see, in a morbid, grief-soaked way.
He never really knew how it went down, with Connie. And he'd told himself it didn't matter, but he'd then gone on to imagine it, and his imagination tended to be worse than the reality. But Carolina pulls away from him when she realizes, leaving him shaken and unsteady with both hands still out in midair, blinking in horrified, desperate fascination.
She's going to cry, and what's the worst part of this is he doesn't think to comfort her first, he has to check himself from lashing out that she cut off the memory. He needs to see it.
"We don't need you, just your armor," fuck is right. How bad did it get? How much did she suffer? Who landed the final blow? ]
Don't-- please. [ He chokes it out, inarticulately, his voice strained and shaken. ] I need to see the rest.