♚ tenth step ♚

[polarization]

[ Oh boy, it's been a while Plane! There is a good reason for this, and this reason is a doozy. This is quickly seen when Sefton appears; not only are his wrists strapped to the gurney that he's brought with him, but he's also dressed in a pair of scrubs, barefoot, and trying to wrest his hands free from the bindings in quiet panic. ]

Come on, come on, come on, come on...!

Agh! [ He flops back against the pillow, momentarily defeated and breathing heavily. Looking for all the world like the scared, helpless fifteen year old that he is. ] Dad... Dad... why would you do this...?

[ Standard Sefton disclaimer applies, yes. ]

Comments

[polarization]

Nobody here can help. You don't get it!

[ He shakes his head, almost hesitantly. ] But—but I...

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

It's rude to tell people what they can and can't do.

You're fine, and I didn't touch you - there's something about being touched that you don't like, right?

[polarization]

Don't care. S' true.

... what? [ He stares at her, suddenly crossing his arms around himself. They took the worry stone along with the rest of his clothes, and now he's really wishing there was something he could just... touch. Ground himself on. ] Wh-why do you—?

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

I'm gonna keep helping you then, if you don't mind. [And she softens this statement with an equally soft smile.]

Ah. You shied away when you first came to. The important thing now is to-- get you some clothes, maybe. Clothes, and something warm, like hot cocoa. Would you like that?

[polarization]

[ He curls his legs up to his chest. ]

No.

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

You're half-naked and curled up in a ball on the floor. I'm sorry, but I don't think you're in a position to refuse help from anyone.

[polarization]

I'm not—! Just... no. Go away.

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

[Sirkka sits there looking unimpressed.

After a minute, though, she rises and simply walks away, humming to herself as she considers where to find clothes on the Plane. She might have to go home for that.]

[polarization]

[ Haha, well, Sefton will be here when she comes back. Looking pathetic, head in his knees and such. Maybe dangerously close to crying, but does it matter if there's nobody around to see it? ]

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

[She returns and thankfully finds him in the same position, though she makes a small noise of disappointment; she expected him to, at least, take a drink of the ice water.

Ah, well.

She sets a neatly-folded pile of dark clothes at his feet: a long jacket, an old AC/DC t-shirt, and some ripped up but otherwise serviceable jeans. It's hard to find good clothes after the apocalypse, you know? But they're clean, and that's something.]

Connor was nice enough to lend me some of his clothes for this.

[She sets a clunky pair of combat boots down.]

And that's my contribution. Now be a dear and try them on, will you? I promise I won't look. The boots might be a little big, but it's the best I can do on such short notice.

[polarization]

[ Sefton flinches, then mumbles to himself and simply curls up tighter. What part of "go away" didn't she get? Maybe he needs to add "and don't come back" this time... ]

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

[Sirkka places her hands on her hips.]

How old are you? Sixteen? Why don't you start acting like it? I am not afraid to dress you myself, young man, and I will not make it enjoyable.

[polarization]

[ He's lifted his head enough to glare at her over his knees, anyway. But, uh, Mommy Mode has him seriously taken aback. It takes him a moment to properly respond other than "wow, I forgot about this part of moms" (then promptly shut that part away). ] Don't.

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

I see you've made up your mind.

[She reaches for his wrist, seeing as it's the closest thing besides ankles - she's prepared to grab that, too, if a foot goes flying at her, though she doesn't want to traumatize the poor kid further.

SOMETHING MUST BE DONE.]

[polarization]

[ Did somebody mention feet going flying? Sefton stiffens as soon as her hand is around his wrist and he uses one foot to propel himself backward—the other lashes out to try and strike Sirkka, eyes wide and fearful. ]

Let go!!

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

[Sirkka catches that foot! Now she has his foot and his wrist, and she looks very determined.

... tickletickle. TRY TO RUN AWAY WHILE BEING TICKLED, you little brat.]

[polarization]

[ There's a slight, choked laugh, but he's still struggling to pull away. ]

L-let... go!

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

[Of course he is - but her grip on his wrist doesn't need to be that hard as long as she's distracting him enough. She lunges over to his side so that she can avoid the flying feet, and within a second she's trying to yank off the scrubs and shove the new shirt onto his head.]

You're only making this more difficult for yourself!

[polarization]

[ He stops struggling with her grip on his foot and wrist to try and stop her from forcibly changing his clothes. ]

No, I'm—let go! [ His voice cracks at the end, close to a sob. This is not the kind of stress he needs right now. ]

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

[She doesn't let go, though, not until she's completely overwhelmed him and bestowed upon Sefton a new shirt. Only then does she release him from her grip, though she's a bit too close, and knows it.]

I'm sorry.

[It's completely honest, though, even as she tries to pet his offended wrist in apology.]

[polarization]

[ Sefton tries to put as much space between them as possible, also trying to free his wrist. He's breathing heavily and obviously freaked out. His utter powerlessness is more obvious than ever right now and there's nothing he can do about it and why won't she just let him go and he doesn't want to hurt anyone but they just keep hurting themselves and his dad especially and he has nowhere left to run anymore and it's all hopeless—

He looks away, eyes stinging and breath beginning to hitch. ]

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

[It's against everything in Sirkka's blood to leave someone when they're in trouble, especially when they're helpless and close to giving up on life. His situation is so much like hers was, too. Sirkka drapes the coat across Sefton's shaking shoulders like a big warm blanket, and then she very, very carefully hugs Sefton-ball with one arm, the other stroking his hair.]

I'm sorry.

[polarization]

[ Contact has him stiffening, tensing, feebly trying to pull away. The warm embrace and the caring words crack a hole in the dam, and emotions begin to force their way through. Leaning against her almost involuntarily...

Sefton cries. It's not a horribly loud affair, but it's deep and painful and messy. He's so entirely out of his depth that this is the only thing he can do (some part of him is mad for giving in; the rest simply drowns it out).

He's hurting her, he knows it. All this contact, it can't possibly be good for her. It's even part of the reason he's crying — frustration at being unable to help himself. He wants to be strong. Strength, however, is hard to find in such a tumultuous storm, whereas shelter is much easier to come by. ]

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

[She continues to pet his hair. His emotions might be a storm, but Sirkka is used to it. She lives in Whitechapel, and the storm she'd made after suffering a similar sort of helpless realization was even worse.

She holds him, though she hasn't been asked to. Maybe even some gentle rocking back and forth. Maybe. She draws her fingers through his hair, smoothing it when she can, and not forcing anything else.

And then she speaks.]

I spent most of my life running. Me and my friends were on the wrong side of the law from the beginning, even though we'd never done a thing to hurt anyone. At first it was tiny. We got weird looks from the other kids, and whispers at lunchtime, that sort of thing. We kept to ourselves mostly because we didn't have anyone else.

And then they began to fear us. They didn't understand, so we were hunted down - and finally sold out by our own families to the government.

[She sighs. It's something she hasn't spoken about for a very long time.]

We hit a dead end, of course. We were sixteen and terrified and we made a bad decision. But we lived, and we moved on.

I know you're scared and close to giving up. You're desperate and sad, and you're mad as hell because I wouldn't leave you alone, but you need to understand-- you will understand, someday, that this time is the worst time to be alone.

[polarization]

[ He keeps his head tucked down, as if trying to hide himself, even in her embrace. His gasps between sobbing breaths keep him from properly responding; a blessing, perhaps. He's scared to admit how comforting it is to be held - the first time in nearly two years - and her gentleness reminds him too much of home. All he can do in return is hurt her by accepting it.

He hears her words, tries to digest them. Right now, it's hard to hear past the echo in his ears. The world begins fading around him, everything sliding into an almost-pleasant hum at the back of his awareness. ]