[no time stamp]
If my body wouldn’t tell me otherwise, I’d still think this isn’t real, just another dream.
Things didn’t go smooth, but that was to be expected when going up against the Stilettos. But they came out much worse than we did. Their compound is reduced to rubble and radioactive dust, half a dozen packs of explosives made sure of that.Their supplies are gone, so are their rides, weapons and fuel. We really wrecked their shit and they will probably never know who or what hit them.
I never could’ve done this alone, though. They all did a fucking good job. Ela’s just born for this, not necessary scavenging, you know, but she has the guts to take bullets and the magic to make it out alive. Breathing fire is just another bonus. Nebraska pulled her weight, I knew she would, but as determined, brave and fast as she is…this was too much for her head. What happened scarred her, I can feel it. It struck me when Scab pointed out that she probably was too young for a stunt like that after all. I feel bad ‘cause I didn’t even consider that to be a problem… but yeah, suppose we don’t all grow up in a borderline warzone and shrug death and carnage off like that. The feedback I got from our link was tainted by regret and fear and she almost gave in to old habits just to numb the pain riding on those impressions. It’ll haunt her for some time, but those ghosts pass on. Been in those boots myself.
Zach and Firefox did a fine job too, good, flexible thinking and they got us two rides from the compound when things went way more haywire than we’d expected. Zach almost overdosed on Stims when the backup teams ran into trouble and Rod had his usual streak of bad luck he, yet again, survived through sheer tenacity.
A lot of lights went out this night, though. And three of those belonged to good people. I’ll make sure they won’t be forgotten, but that is business for next day.
Right now, I need to take care of the living.
In tonight’s confusing black sea of chaos and destruction, I’m happy to have this little island where my friends are alive and relatively well.
Where my partner sits next to me, finally free from the hell I got her into.
We’re still a fierce and gallant duo, six months separation couldn’t take that away. But it’ll get rough. It’ll get complicated. Things changed.
We, ourselves, probably did too.
I’m not an idiot. Not always. Things won’t just pop back to normal now that we’re reunited again.
Told her flat out that she could leave, if she wanted to. I wouldn’t force or push her, give her any white knight crap or light-side peptalk.
I promised I would stop her she goes full on toxic, I owe her that much.
But she stayed and I will do whatever I can to fix this. If I can fix this…
That other crow will still be whispering until we shut him up. This could easily turn into a fucking mess of a paranoid mind game.
Rook’s a trickster and she knows me better than anyone else does. Will it be her, or that twisted bird talking?
Whenever my partner looks at me me, will she see ‘That asshole who did this to me’?
Or frankly, will we get around and just trust each other?
Seems tough, right?
Well, so are we… I won’t let this break us.