You are a failure. A danger to your beliefs. A danger to us-
“All manner of things can happen in a few houses. Politicians can politick, master surgeons heal a heart, steel can be melted and tempered. I…” She paused, fingers shaking at the buttons of her shirt – her vest was underneath, the various bindings and straps designed to keep everything flattened peeking out. The press of gore pushed her to remove it, bare shoulders rolling as she held the piece in her grip. More aggressively she threw it into the brine water of the quenching trough, watching the staining blur in with the water.
You could still kill him. It would be so easy-
No.
Coward.
“You’re right. I didn’t. But I still could,” She began. Her head turned back to the forge. Her gaze locked onto the embers, back to him. Fear, it was strange to at least hear it from the other side for a change. Gale was very aware of it, more so as the conscious Seventen tried to pass through the mental loops of what just happened, “I won’t. Doesn’t line up with my interests.” The smith shrugged, “I expect, after this is all said and done, that you’ll probably get your cuffs out.” A snort, “Well done Inspector. You witnessed and caught a murderer. With a firearm no less. Single handily. Medal to you.”
With the flickering heat the smith turned to the trough. Fingers traced the surface, grasping onto the shirt before hands and forearms were submerged. What was available was used to wash the grime away, scrubbing out the tangled hair and the sore features. The numbing cold caused her to gasp, the salt stinging against the small nicks and cuts. Hands rubbed at her features, eyes screwing up as she released a shuddered breath.
The hollow gaping faces, the twisted corpses and gore greeted her in the darkness. She hissed, fingers clenching tightly. Screwing up she shook her head as the pain came more jerking to reality, “Until then, we’re both on the same level. Equal. Makes a change I guess.”
Stepping around she stood the opposite side of the counter, damp features peering at him. Bruised knuckles took the bottle, lifting it up to her lips before a long, deep glug escaped. She forced herself to swallow, the cheap alcohol burning her insides, her reflex to gag as the memory of blood filled her senses. The bottle slammed down, a deep inhale as she felt herself seize up and tense. Still, motionless, the eyes bored down onto his crown.
How like him she looked. The hair was the same, a fine blonde that sat and graced their features. There were differences of course, his nose was broader, the eyes blue – but they still shared looks. Her hands clenched, resting upon the bench. She forced herself to move some, grasping a stool and sliding it over to him. She however needed to remain standing – she was not sure her knees would willingly bend.
“I don’t want reputation.”
Her voice was a whisper. She sniffed, thumb rubbing across her eyelid – it pushed away the warm moisture that was growing there. What was she supposed to say in situations like this? Nothing would help her out of the current predicament, she could not control the will and actions of another.
“And those bastards had it coming to them.”
She forced her lungs to breathe, hand instinctively pressing against the bruising that was growing there. It stabbed at her, teeth biting her lip, a sharp croak of an inhale. The pulse was still elevated, wrestling with base instinct to survive, yet her own attempts to gain what little control remained. Strands of the self that was being ripped from her grasp due to her own stupidity. Alcohol served as an enabler, the defences set up crumbling as the sensation set in. A second, long glug was taken, a bitter gasp as she shook the taste away.
She hated the taste. But it would do for now. Flushed in the face, brow creased, her free fist slammed against the surface of the worktop. Frustrated, she rubbed the moisture that continued to grow around the eyes.
“I have my reasons, dammit. Bloody stupid. Fuck,” she sucked in a breath, the sting crawling up into her palm. A relief in the growing pressure in her chest. Suffocating as her mind hissed and spread its poison within, “None of it matters now. Just throw it all away why don’t you Gale? Everything you probably had. Because you got to be better than them. Fuck. All the brains but so stupid.” The knuckles struck against the tender part of her temple, a wince as she hunched in, “Such a coward. Just can’t do it. Can’t-” her head titled up to him, eyes taking on a red tint as tears welled up, “I’m not crying you moron!”