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There's a chill to the morning; the weather is turning a little more brisk, at least at day's beginning. Breath is on the wind and there are lines now forming at coffee carts. Three deep, four deep at the corner cart, Barney's got his hands dug into pockets of a wool coat with its collar turned up, but he's dressed down in jeans, boots, his hair unkempt and sporting one of those unshaven looks. His expression is drawn as he stands in line. He doesn't look like he's watching anything but the people in front of him, but this is his morning ritual. Play 'Identify the Junior SHIELD Agent', which is easier than it has any right to be, and then move off once coffee is purchased and get things done during the course of the day.
Today? Mafia hit. One Don's got a call out for a couple of Capos on 'the other side', and it just so happens that the Family that's put the call out is rather… connected. So, off to Sal and Angelo's for lunch later today, pick up the particulars, and earn a few dollars over the course of the weekend.
*
Maybe she got three hours sleep. Maybe. Most of them were drunken and drugged in the haze of alcohol and exhaustion, but it was sleep. And still those strange dreams come. Half nightmares. Bloody fields. Dead soldiers everywhere. Poppies. Always the poppies. Until she woke up panting and sick on that couch they lay together on so many months ago, in front of the dead, cold fire place. Alone. Fortunately, no one was there to see her be sick because that much cheap booze would do it to anyone's stomach, much less someone like Hilde. She should really, possibly be dead by now, but something in her body keeps beating. Keeps fighting. Even when the rest of her has given up.
A few minutes to be sick, then she splashed off her face in the sink and washed out her mouth. The electric is off in the place, but at least the water is still running. Little miracles. She's still ice cold, not having slept with heat or a fire for two nights now. Her body's slow moving, aching as she makes her way down the stairs and out into the glaring, harsh morning air. She doesn't even shiver against it. She barely notices it. Her eyes narrow at the daylight, stabbing through her head with too bright pain, but she tilts her head down, trying to avoid it and move on. She's barely watching where she's going.
*
Barney's not gotten much more sleep than Hilde, but he's used to it due to work. As long as he can push all those emotions down, those things that simply have no use in his life, that serve no purpose. He doesn't disappear into the bottle of booze for anything, however. There are never regrets ovr a job, over a kill.
His personal life? What the hell is that?
The line moves up, and finally Barney digs into his wallet to take out some money for the coffee. A wallet with a NY license that says 'Philip Meadows' on it. Same eyes, same hair.. birthday around the same time. Black coffee.. and once paid for and his fingers wrap around the paper cup for the warmth, he turns about.
Easy. There's the agent. No specific 'tells', but it's there all the same. There's another scan of the area, and once it comes out 'clean', Barney starts heading in the general direction of that Junior agent until someone comes 'round, and it's a very real and very familiar form and figure.
Barney stops to watch, unfortunately it's not quite in the best place he could, and cars slam on their brakes, sounding their horns at him. It's the horns that brings him back around, and he slaps his hand on one of the cars, bringing it up again to yell, "What the hell do you think you're doin'? I got the goddamned light!" He doesn't.. but it does let him get across the street fully.
*
Ironically, while Hilde was doing everything she could to find him yesterday (and failing), she's given up on doing it today. There is no reason, in her mind, that he'd be anywhere near here. She doesn't know about the pick up stops. Hell, she doesn't even really know he's WORKING for the people that locked them both up all those weeks ago. So, her slight frame continues walking down the street, eyes on the ground, sunken face hidden by the mess of stringy blonde hair. She needs a shower desperately but without heat in his apartment was no hot water. She wasn't doing that. It's still pretty clear what building she came out of. She'd gone back there. Maybe she was looking for him?
Then he's screaming at cars and she'd know that voice anywhere in the world. An abrupt jump of energy shocks through her, adrenaline sluggishly kicking in to a beaten, exhausted body. Her arctic blue eyes snap up, staring across the street, a ragged breath escaping her lips as she tries to confirm what she heard. "…Barn?" She breathes out, hopeful and terrified. God, please don't let a car hit him. But then she's running after him. Completely oblivious to those cars too. Thank god they were almost already stopped. One still nearly clips her, horns blaring loud, but she doesn't care. While she has that momentary surge of adrenaline, she's using it to run after him…"Barney…" She raggedly breathes out, shaking hands reaching for his jacket. She just wants to touch him. To stop him from running.
*
The commotion isn't staged, it really isn't. It does help, however, in terms of his tail. Now the Junior Agent has to keep a farther distance back and away, if the kid was trained right. All eyes are on the man 'to be followed' and they won't miss an obvious tail.
It also gives Barney a little more breathing room, which is all he really cares about. He pauses on the opposite side of the street now, watching as Hilde makes her final steps towards him, hands outstretched. As she reaches for his jacket, Barney shakes his head and reaches for her hands. Cold, thin hands. "Go home," is whispered hoarsely. It's not that he's sharing any message or that she's in the middle of an op.. no. It's just words between them. "Go home and take a hot shower." Just leave him alone.
*
Was she always this cold? Probably. Hilde was always cold. But somehow it seems worse now, hands nothing but ice. No one breathing should ever feel that cold, but it was a long night and booze is real damn good at dropping someone's body temperature. At least she seemed mostly sober now, her squinting, bloodshot eyes not nearly so blown and sluggish as they were the other night. She's sober. Sober and hurting. She lets him take her bony hands, not pulling away even as he whispers those words. She shakes her head too fast, almost violently so, sending stringy hair everywhere.
"N-no…no… not yet… I.. fuck, Barney…. I don't care…if the booze kills me. I don't. Would kinda be nice, honestly, right now… that's all I meant. I don't fuckin' care about that. The…the other shit you said… I care. I do. Fuck… I'm sorry. It's shitty and no kid deserves that and…I'm so fucking sorry. I… I know you didn't have ta tell me that… I know you been through the shit and I'm *sorry*. It… Fuck… Barney… I *do*…care…'bout that… about you…" She rambles half breathlessly, just trying to get the words in her head OUT before he shoves her away or runs off. She couldn't keep up with him if he ran, so she had to spew it out now.
*
"You don't get it then," Barney's voice stays low. "I care if the booze kills you." But that's not all, not really. The alcohol is just something that he can latch onto, something a whole lot safer than his own feelings for the medic.
Barney looks up and takes a deep breath, willing his heart to step its rapid pace, but it's not listening. "Look.." What can he say, though? "I didn't tell you that for pity," he tries again, and he looks at Hilde, blue eyes meeting her own. "Now stop it. I wanted you to understand somethin'.. that.." Does he even know?
"Jesus.. I'm gonna be sorry for this." Barney reaches out to take the thin, pale wrist, and he follows it up with, "C'mon.. follow me. Keep close." He has to lose a tail.
*
"No…I know…it… it ain't about pity…" Hilde rasps almost immediately, because that is something she CAN cling onto. Something she understands, whether she wants to or not. Because nothing else makes sense, it's all wrapped up in way too many emotions, exhaustion, pain, and a lot of fear of losing something she didn't even realize she had. But pity, that wasn't ever something between them. So she clings to that reassurance, her numb, thin hands squeezing his a bit tighter to try and drive home the point. Gods she was cold.
"…What??" She stammers out in half confusion as he says to follow him. Or, more so, that he's going to be sorry she followed him. She blinks, but she listens. Even if she's the same height as him when she's full on standing, she hardly ever is. Always slouched, curled in on herself, she easily tucks close to his body and tries to keep up. She'd follow him anywhere. She trusts him. That's never changed. So, clinging to the last scraps of adrenaline she has, she takes off with him down the street.
*
Barney moves through the traffic, and once again descends into the subway. Trains. Busses… and back up again, emerging a couple of blocks to their intended destination. His intended destination, the last bit in a taxi.
Once the pair emerge, Barney is paying the cab fare and he turns about to gesture towards a building. It's where he's staying now.
"C'mon," and he's ready to lead her up. "Here," and his voice lowers, "my name is Philip. Phil Meadows."
*
A slight arch comes to her brow. Phil Meadows? Adrenaline has mostly worn off on the familiar dance of losing a tail through all the subways and busses. It seems almost like things have gone back to normal, she half falling asleep on his shoulder on another unnecessary train ride. Maybe they could go back to how things were before? Maybe they could pretend ever awful word wasn't say, every bit of trust wasn't betrayed? Probably not, but it's a nice thought.
She lets herself be roused and does finally nod in half understanding about his name, but she's really just walking where he puts her now. She was with him again, being let into that life, that new, precious apartment. She felt safe again. She had no words to describe how good it felt or important it was that he took her back there, but he did. So she leans against him and walks, a slight smirk on her thin mouth. "… 'kay…Phil." What an awful, boring name. Phil.
*
Barney pulls the keys out of his pocket and puts them into the locks, leaning on the door to let them in. It's not a bad looking apartment; signs of wear and tear, and it is furnished. Chairs. Couch. And apparently something Barney really likes in a place? A fireplace. It's not lit, however.
Closing the door behind him, Barney locks the door and gives her a pointed look. "No one knows about this place. Not SHIELD, not the FBI, not Clint. No one. No one but me." And now her. "No one comes here. Period. Just the mailman and the milkman. If anything happens, this is not where I'll be going." That must have been his mistake before, right? Going home? That's where it all fell apart?
"Now.. you.. go take a hot shower. I'll put you in there myself, dressed or naked, but you're gonna have a hot shower."
*
That may have been where it all fell apart, but if he didn't go home, where would she know how to put him back together? Still, regrets were had. Mistakes made. It didn't change anything. That was all in the past. Hilde's icy fingertips remain in his, her right hand still wrapped, but not in a cast any more. She has way more freedom with it now. That was a good sign, right? She blinks at his commentary about a hot shower, brows furrowing.
"…N-no. No. Not yet. You…you brought me back here for a reason. I'm here. I… just… I'm here. Talk to me." Even half numbed and ice cold, she could be a stubborn idiot! That stubborn streak was something they both shared, for good or ill. Probably something they liked in each other too. But, part of it was a good sign also. There was enough life and hope left in her to actually *fight back* this time. She cared. She wanted to be here. She wasn't the limp rag doll he found on her couch days ago. Just being let back into this part of his life has rekindled something to fight for in her chest.
*
Barney shrugs off his coat and rolls up his sleeves before he takes off his watch. Blue eyes are watching her, locked on to her as he moves deliberately. He'd just said 'shower', and that he'd put her in clothed or un-, but either way?
"Yeah.. first reason." Barney steps up to her now in order to take a hold of her again. "Shower, then I'll make coffee. When you're warm and I get another damned cup of joe, then we can talk." He can tell there's some new life seeping back into her, but he's not really understanding the how or the why. (He's just not that 'in tune'.) "If we end up takin' for more than five minutes, I might light the fireplace." Might.
*
In truth, Hilde doesn't understand it any more than he does. She just feels it. Ever pale eyes stare across at him, in that quiet debate about pushing it or listening to him. But she really was cold. And the promise of the fire place, pretty much, seals it. "…we better end up takin' more than five minutes.. if you drug me through the damn subway all that time." She mutters, gruff but with just the edge of a tired tease to the back of her words. She squeezes his hand one last time and then finally lets go, turning away to find the bathroom. Hell, this was the nicest place he'd been in in ages.
She just drops clothing as she goes, jacket off, even if her numb fingertips have to fight a bit with the buttons. She's in a old, old shirt of his, flannel and ragged. Something left behind at his first place. But surely she just needed layers, she didn't put it on for any other reason. That comes off over her head next. Then her boots. And bra. The skinny, ribs-countable figure is in nothing but her pants as she shuts the door behind her, the sound of the shower coming a minute later.
*
Barney has to force himself not to watch as Hilde leaves the trail of clothes behind her on her path to the shower. It's hard, but when the door closes and the shower goes on, he takes a deep breath and digs a palm into his eyes to keep them from filling. "God fucking dammit," is muttered, and before he drops his hand, he side-punches the fridigaire as he crosses into the kitchen proper.
Then, he's got to get the coffee perking before he turns his attention to the fireplace. He's got kindling, he's got wood, but he's not about to start the fire. Not yet.
Slumping down into a seat in the kitchen, Barney listens to the sound of the coffee pot starting to heat up and to the sound of the water from the shower.
*
arney has to force himself not to watch as Hilde leaves the trail of clothes behind her on her path to the shower. It's hard, but when the door closes and the shower goes on, he takes a deep breath and digs a palm into his eyes to keep them from filling. "God fucking dammit," is muttered, and before he drops his hand, he side-punches the fridigaire as he crosses into the kitchen proper.
Then, he's got to get the coffee perking before he turns his attention to the fireplace. He's got kindling, he's got wood, but he's not about to start the fire. Not yet.
Slumping down into a seat in the kitchen, Barney listens to the sound of the coffee pot starting to heat up and to the sound of the water from the shower.
*
LOG NOTE: Delete Barney's previous pose.
*
The shower isn't log. Hilde was never really a long shower person, not if she was alone. She was a practical, sharing the station shower house with twenty other people kind of person. Besides, as adrenaline wears off she can feel the crash coming on. The just repeated punishment of her not all that hale and hearty body over and over again. She's going to be lucky to keep her feet for the whole shower instead of sinking down and just letting it cascade over here in a mix of relieved tears and fearful ones. This wasn't done. She knew it. Nothing was really fixed. So, she showers fast.
When she's done, she steps back out, not quite so icy as before but now she's actually, slightly shivering. It might be exhaustion, it might be her body remembering what it is to feel. It just gets worse as the cool air hits her without that hot shower. She looks around the room, blonde hair dripping, body covered in goosepimples. A single towel. Well, that was… Useful. She grabs it, squeezing at her hair just a few moments before she wraps it around her stick thin frame. It's the best she could do without putting on clothes that now firmly smell like a booze house and a hint of acidic puke. She wasn't putting those clothes back on.
She slips back out into the front room, looking far cleaner than before and also a bit like a drowned rat, her hair sticking to her ears and neck, bony shoulders sticking out from the top of that wrapped towel. "…Y-you….you got a… shirt… or blanket..or s-somethin'?" She asks between slightly chattering breathes.
*
Barney is lulled into a brief doze as the coffee pot *burbls* and the shower runs. It's when one stops that his brain registers a change in noise and brings him to a more awake state. He starts forward in time to see Hilde emerge in that towel, and he rises from his seat. He's seen plenty of women in a towel, or less.. but since that other night, and it seems forever ago, it's hard not to have .. feelings. Reactions.
"Uh.. sure. Shirt. Blanket." His speech patterns are most definitely hearkening back to Iowa.. the Midwest. They're short, single or double syllabled, and with feet on the ground again, he's up and going for a blanket in the master (and only) bedroom of the place. One has to be pulled off the bed, but that's easy.. and he comes back out with the blanket and one of his shirts. (Someone managed to make it to the laundromat!)
"Here. An' I got coffee on."
*
If his brain is having trouble processing what was happening before, it's going to get a lot worse as he comes out with the shirt. There's no modesty from Hilde, but then there really wasn't before. A body is a body. She's not running back into the bathroom just to change. So, she drops the towel entirely, tossing the wet side up onto the floor, as she curses beneath her breath at the chill of the room. Well, that cold room is doing *everything* to her body it should. She could cut diamonds right now. And she definitely has lost weight since the last they slept together. She's not even comfortable to look at right now. But those tiny tits and bony ribs are put away a moment later as she pulls on his shirt, the thing practically a night gown on her. She's grabbing the blanket a heartbeat later and wrapping it tight around her as she goes to huddle on the couch.
That was better. It smelled like him. And laundry soap. But him. Probably the blanket more than the shirt. It didn't matter. She holds it a bit tighter against her. "…c-coffee…sounds good. Thanks… I… probably smelled like shit. Sorry… about that…" She offers with a thin lipped half smile.
*
Barney comes back out and hands the shirt over; he should have expected the towel to drop but.. he really didn't. He rolls his head forward, his face to the side to give her a little privacy, but exactly what would that change? Not a whole lot. In the next moment, then, he's got the blanket handed over so she could curl up into it, and he's back off to the kitchen to pour their coffees.
He pulls on the perk basket and sets it into the clean white sink before he pours the black liquid into two cups. Walking back out, he hands one over before he sits down on the edge of another chair. He stares at her for a long moment before he looks away again, shaking his head, his expression puzzled. Confused. In deeper than he'd ever expected and he has no clue what in the hell he's doing. His manner, mien, posture all scream it.
"I dunno.." and he sounds honest. "I just dunno.."
*
In the blanket, Hilde looks like some sort of pauper child. Her hair still damp, stringy, but not in that greasy way, just in the soaked and careless way. Her skinny frame is easily drowning in the heaviness of the blanket and the way she huddles her legs up against her makes it all the worse. How there was a woman beneath all that fluff, it's hard to figure. But she stares at him with bloodshot, silent eyes, trying to piece it all together herself when she has no more answers than he. She might even have a few more questions.
A thin hand sneaks out of the blanket to accept that coffee, because coffee is life. It's the first warm drink she's had since that first fight. She doesn't sip it yet, but she huddles over it like the fireside after days wandering in arctic cold. Her eyes still remain on him, pinched and tired. "You… want me to go? You told me to… come. I… fuck, Barney, I am sorry. I never… I didn't mean I didn't care. Not about you. I shouldn'ta said it that way. I wasn't… thinkin'. I…dunno how to do any'a this…"
*
Barney shakes his head and looks up again before he presses his lips together. While he may not have cried his eyes dry like Hilde has, all this hasn't left him unaffected. He swallows hard and rises from his chair again, holding on to that coffee now as a life support. "Was the booze." It's a statement of fact. "Was killin' you. Is. I mean, sure.. it's not really, though." It's him.
"Ever since you got stuck in all the stuff I do. Before, was easy. All y'had to do, all I ever asked was a stitch here.. a bandage there. Most of the time I wasn't 'round anyway. Always somewhere else." Thailand. Vietnam. China. "Now?"
Barney shakes his head and he exhales in a sigh and sits back down. "It's screwed up."
*
A weak little laugh escapes her lips, drunk on something else now. Relief? Exhaustion? The feeling that's slowly returning to her limbs? Probably all those things. She's stopped shivering, at least, for all the right reasons. She certainly doesn't have color in her cheeks (when does she ever have color in her cheeks?) but her lips aren't tinged that weird, faint gray blue which probably wasn't even noticable until it's now gone. "…you started it, you know… buildin' those damn fires…" She whispers softly, though there's the flutter of a smile behind her words. The rasping tone isn't one of accusation, it's one of almost-gratitude.
Then he's moving to sit back down, not on the couch, on that chair, and one of her hands sneaks out from the blankets and her coffee, reaching for his wrist. "…come'ere.." She whispers, trying to catch his arm and tug him towards her, towards the couch, instead of the chair that feels so far away, so neutral, like a fence still between them. If she manages to do that, she sinks to the side against him, bony shoulders able to be felt in the blanket, but she just wants those arms. She doesn't know how to find more words, but she knows what she wants.
*
Barney looks honestly surprised by that 'trigger', the fires in the fireplace. Brows rise and he glances over to the centerpiece of the room as if it'd give him more information there. "I've always had a fireplace. S'just something…" A shrug lifts his shoulder and he looks back to Hilde, "Weren't nothin'.. not really." The quirks of Barney Barton.
And there, she's reaching for him, and Barney has no real idea what to do, what he wants to do. The best way to answer it is to sound gruff in his grunt as he rises and sits down. There's no relaxing, no 'soft' and mushiness. He's not a hugger, not a cuddler.. not a touchy-feely guy at all. Contact is a strange thing for him. "Somethin's gotta give, y'know? I mean.. I can't keep fightin' like this. It gets too bad, I'm liable t'just…" Leave the country and not look back. "I dunno…"
*
He wasn't the only one that wasn't really touchy. Hilde never had been before. Bodies were just fleeting things, shells for whatever passes on when we die and everyone DOES die. Worth it not to get too connected. But then he's there, and the nearness of his body is so much *more* than those stolen clothes and blankets she's been trying to use as a replacement. Even if he's stiff, she's not. She goes dead quiet, though, sinking against that board of his chest and torso. No matter how stiff he is, she wants to be there. To steal a few moments of heat, of his scent, of the things she's been missing and has come to need in her life more than she can understand. Her throat goes tight now, eyes pressing against that sudden sting of tears which she though had been cried out. Wasn't she done with this? Drowning in him, she's not.
She says nothing for a long time, just listening to him breathe, to that faint, even sound of his heart through layers of fabric and ribs. She might not get this again, she knows, so she's remembering what it is. Her hand that grabbed his arm now sinks down, curling thin fingers over his thigh. She squeezes quietly. "…what's… gotta give? This? You…wanna stop this?" She rasps quietly, that trickle of pain and tears behind her voice no matter how she tries to hide it.
"…if you wanted to… give this up… why the fuck bring me back here? Why… why bother? You were out. Done. It was… over. Why rip this all open again?"
*
There it is again. Barney exhales in a long, soft sigh and he shakes his head. "I can't keep worrying. Can't keep wonderin'." He looks beside him, can smell the freshly showered Hilde all around him even though she's just beside him. "I don't think you understand, is all.."
For all that Barney wanted that coffee, he's not drinking any of it. "I'm not safe anywhere, darlin'.. you gotta understand that. And when I go out that door, there'll be people lookin' for this face. One day, they might find me, but I gotta do all I can to make sure that don't happen. If you're gonna be a bigger part, you gotta understand it. I got no friends. I don't trust anyone, but I gotta trust you. If I'm dying, crap.. just drag me out of the damned apartment, stick me in an alley before you call someone. Somethin'. Anything but that.. not again."
*
He wasn't pulling away and he wasn't telling her to go. That was a step. A start in the right direction. Hilde doesn't move except to shrink forward and set her coffee down on the little table in front of them. She had no taste for it either. She just wanted this. Hands now free, she shifts her body to almost wrap around him. There's dampness on her cheeks, but she's not outright sobbing. She just can't stop that moisture from leaking free. She gives a weak, numb nod at his words. "I…I got it… I… wasn't thinkin'. I… I just couldn't let you die. I was desperate… it was fucked, all of it was fucked, but… I'll get you out, next time. I can do that…" She whispers against his collarbone, a breathy promise, but a promise never the less.
"…just don't make me go." Those words aren't a promise, they are a plea. The closest she's gotten to say how much she needs him but the aching is behind her words, the desperation. That hollow emptiness she's been drowning in since their fights.
*
Barney shakes his head and he chuffs a soft breath. Even now he's not all that certain that she does actually understand. How can she possibly fully understand how it is that he lives. One day to the next; each one a chance that he may not come 'home' for one reason or another. Heck, later he'll be meeting with the Mob in regards to a hit on another Family. And tomorrow? The next?
With her beside him, Barney's feeling that things are right, but still wrong. It's not.. comfortable. Then again, it could just very well be the fact that he's not alone. Proximity makes him nervous, "I don't want anyone using you against me. That could happen." Again.
*
As he doesn't soften with her against him, Hilde can feel it, feel the tension, the continued, quicker beat of his heart. She squeezes his leg again, trying to pull herself together enough to actually sit up straight. Even as stiff as he is, she's tired and warm enough now she might fall asleep like that. Especially knowing this conversation isn't over. It could go worse in the future. So, she takes one more deep breath and then forces herself to sit up, pull away. She leaves a cold spot where her body had been. She's not exactly warm, but she's warmer than open air.
When she turns to look at him, her eyes are still a little glassy, more bloodshot than before, but they are clear. Sane. Awake and sober. It's better than she's been in days. She studies his face, the hard lines there, scruff of his jaw and muss of his hair. She tries to find something behind those eyes that tells her he wants her to stay. Another deep, unsteady breath is drawn in through her nose. "…yeah. It…it could. That's life… I guess the question is — is it worth me bein' here? Is… is that risk worth it? Am…I worth it?"
*
It's true; Barney doesn't soften. He doesn't relax in contact. There may be times when he wishes to hell that he could, that he did, but when that moment arrives? Nope. He simply can't find it. Always on edge. So when she pulls away and sits up, he resettles himself in the seat, making himself a little more comfortable, but he won't ever be fully there.
There, in those blue eyes, what she'll find, maybe see, is the need to protect. To keep people from being hurt with his chosen line. Clint had said it best, paraphrased, 'It's the risk she takes'. Being tossed in a cell and forgotten. Tossed in a cell in Federal Prison. Maybe even killed as bait for him. He wouldn't wish that life on anyone. "S'not the question," he murmurs. "S'question is, how much do you mean t'me."
*
"… that is the question, yes. Do…do I mean that much to you?" Hilde asks, her voice barely a level above the smallest whispers. It's not a full voice. She doesn't want to break the moment, to jinx her chance to be happy. To scare him away. Hilde remains sitting up straight and stiff, her shoulders squared, hard. Nervous. She's bracing herself to be hit by a truck, only this truck is far more emotional than physical. This truck can utterly destroy her.
*
"People'll try an' convince you I'm no good. That you shouldn't get all wrapped up in me." There's no value judgement of whether or not he thinks he's 'good'. In his eyes, there really isn't a 'good' or 'bad'. (A true sociopath?) "All's I know is that I don't wanna see you suffer for stuff I do. Police'll pick you up as an accessory. Treat you exactly like they'd treat me. Question is, do I want that 'cause I want you with me?" Is it fair?
"You gotta understand. That way we came back here? You gotta do somethin' like that every time you go home. 'S'no way t'live."
*
That fear is settling deeper into her, pulling at her throat, pounding in her chest. He wasn't saying yes. He didn't say she meant enough, or that he wanted her to say. He was dancing around it, saying everything but that, and Hilde's eyes get a little wider as the last dregs of adrenaline and hope mingle together for a sick brew in her heart. "…Barney…I ain't…fucking stupid. I know who you are. I….I know what you do… Do you think I'm stupid? I know the risks…and I'm fucking sitting here." She breathes out, not daring to let her tone get any louder because if she lets go of that ever so fragile control, she may scream. Or cry. Or something worse. So she sits stiff as a violin string, hanging on the edge of breaking…
*
The question that needs to be asked, and the one that Barney hasn't yet is 'Are you willing?'. Nothing in his world is assumed; to assume is potential death. All he can do is rely upon himself, and his own thoughts.
And even now, his own thoughts betray him.
Barney rises from his seat, looking around the little apartment, the trail of clothes to the bathroom.. and back to Hilde. "Are you willing to take that risk? For me?" Is he worth it? "You know the FBI is after me too, right? They're probably at 'shoot on sight' now." Because, frankly, the FBI are on his list to 'shoot on sight' as well. It's a little war.
*
She's trying so hard not to cry, but as he asks that question she blinks. The blink is her downfall, at least, of a single tear. It streaks free from her so pale they disappear eyelashes. She makes no comment on it. It's not important, not nearly so much compared to their conversation. Another, slightly shaking breath is drawn in as she stares back into his darker blue eyes, the tips of her fingertips vaguely playing at the fabric of his pants just to touch SOME part of him. She couldn't do this without some tiny hint of a connection, reminding her what she's fighting for. "… would I be here if I wasn't? I'm willing… Barney. I know… I know… and I shouldn't…but I am…"
*
Barney rocks his head forward and exhales. What did he expect? What had he hoped? That, like any sane person, she'd see the light and leave before she got hurt, or worse? This is Hilde. Fingers poke into his eyes, digging there for a long moment before his head bobs in a nod.
"Okay.." It's an acknowledgment and an acquiescence.
*
"…you still didn't answer my question…" Hilde whispers, after a few of those stunned, quiet heartbeats, as Barney says so few words and isn't leaping to draw her back into his chest. To kiss her again. To find whatever they left behind that Friday night when they tried to drag out to the Russian Tea Room and failed spectacularly. Had it truly all shattered with this rough dose of reality so quickly? She doesn't dare touch him more, force him to be confronted with her bony, chilly frame. She just keeps that tiny hand there on his leg, fingertips brushing pants like a lifeline.
"…am *I* worth it? Do I… meant that much? Or do you actually want me to go? Because if you want me gone, you… gotta say it. You gotta look me in the eye and tell me to go, and I will… I ain't gonna stay around until you actually resent or hate me." She had taken the leap, made her admission, unwise or not. She didn't know if he'd be willing to do the same. Or even felt it. So, bloodshot eyes stare quietly at him, trying to stay neutral, achingly hopeful instead.
*
No, he didn't answer her question. While Barney may leap with both feet into an op, into a quick once over before a hit, with everything else, he's odd man on the outside. An exhaled sigh exits the man, and he looks with blue eyes to the frail woman beside him. If he 'takes her back' or, truly, he's making an actual decision for the first time, so if he 'takes her on', he's making that pledge of protection; to do whatever he can to keep her safe from all comers. Particularly those that would use her to come after him.
Big. Damned. Step. And the chances are good that she doesn't quite realize exactly how big a step that is, to bring someone close in.
That short time before, the Russian Tea Room, Barney had been relaxing, maybe too much. But that is long past.
"'Hilde.. I.." I what? I don't know if I can keep you safe? I'm not sure if you deserve the life I lead?
"Do you really understand?"
*
That last question hardens her eyes a bit, impatience tempered with just a touch of hurt flaring up once more. He didn't *want* to answer. Maybe he didn't actually care. She takes a breath through her nose, staring hard, "…Barney, I told you. Yes. I ain't stupid. I already answered your fucking question. Can I plan for ever fucking nightmare that comes our way? No. I just know it's gonna be hard. And people want you dead. And… a lot of people die around me a lot of the time. Neither of us is normal. Neither of us is even… comfortable. This might get me or you or both of us killed. Is it worth it?…I'm still sittin' here. I understand that. It's your fucking turn." There is some of that fire and brimstone Hilde. The backbone and passion that seems almost too big for her frail, delicate frame. Probably the part of her that keeps her going when the rest of her body should have given up a long time ago.
*
Barney's expression darkens and the shadows fall behind those blue eyes before he pushes himself up and off the couch. It's easier that way, or so he believes. It's not, actually. He takes a couple of short paces away, leaving the blanket-bundled Hilde on the couch behind him. He turns away and his head falls forward before,
"Yeah.. I want you around. I don't want to, but I do. Everything I'm gonna have to do to keep you safe, I'll do it. It'll be like when I was a kid."
Now Barney finally turns around, and his hands drop into his pockets, "You and me against the world?"
*
As he gets up and pulls away, it stings even more. Him stepping back, despite what he says after, feels like a rejection. He was trying to separate himself. Pull further from her touch, from the weird little bit of care and love they had between each other. Hilde's eyes tightly shut against a fresh sting of tears. If she was going to be rejected, she wouldn't cry in front of him. She couldn't. But the words he says aren't what she expected to hear at all and suddenly tears come for far different reasons. Relief. Shock. Love.
She doesn't even have a voice a few seconds, her eyes shooting open again and staring hard up at him. She nods weakly, repeatedly, her throat tight and breath stopped but mind running a million miles an hour. Dammit, she has to say something. She has to remind herself this moment is real. "…Y-yeah…yes… Please…. You don't gotta keep me safe… Just come home. When you can…I'll handle it. Just… just come home…" She doesn't reach for him again, like she's scared to touch him and break the moment or send him running.
*
"Yeah, I do." Keep her safe from everything he can, anyway. "If anything happens to you.." Barney lets the thought die in the air between them and he shakes his head. It wouldn't be good. As it is, he'd threatened Irish with bodily harm if he used her against him.
"Tell you what.." Barney's voice lowers as he pulls a hand out when he takes a step closer to the couch again. "If I'm okay, I'll come here. If I'm not, I'm gonna find another place and get word to you. Okay? That way, that other place can be a one-shot and you can bring whoever the hell you want there." The things he does for love! For tolerance? For… not being alone.
"Just no one here, and when we're here? I'm Phil." Which probably means there's going to have to be a 'cover' for Hilde… somehow. But what, well, Barney will consider that later.
*
Her blue eyes are still glassy as she looks up to him, especially as he comes closer to her. She can't resist the touch any longer, her fingertips coming out of the blanket, reaching for his palm, but she stops herself a heartbeat too soon. There is still so much of her which is scared. So, instead, she falls to grabbing the edge of his shirt, fingering it the way she did his pants. Just hanging onto the edges of him, hoping the rest of him will continue to walk a back to her. Hilde nods too quickly at his proposed solution. "Y-yeah…Phil. That sounds good. Just… just get me word, I'll be there. I'll always put you back together. Always. I promise." She's so good at making promises she doesn't know if she can keep. But she tries.
*
When Hilde reaches out to touch him, there's a moment when he tenses, but relaxes soon after. Barney doesn't reach for her hand, but he doesn't stop the approach either. In the next few seconds, his other hand is out of his pocket and he's sitting back down on the couch. Not cuddling… he's not like that, but at least he's there. There's a seriousness, or maybe it's a sobriety that has descended upon him? He still doesn't care what happens to the world around him, but he does care what happens to the blonde waif, and his brother. The two most important people in his life.
"There's gonna be a time when you can't fix it, darlin'.." Barney's voice drops. "Don't make any promises. None. Ever. And when that day comes, an' it's gonna come, you gotta get far away. None of that singin', no fighting. None of that shit. You need to be far away."
*
As he sits back down, she shifts her body so her crossed legs are both up on the couch, the front of her calves brushing along the outside of his thigh, skinny body fully facing him. She doesn't pull away at all. The touches become more, even as the last dregs of adrenaline are wearing off and the pure, utter exhaustion of her thoroughly beat form is beginning to take over. She'll be lucky she doesn't just pass out soon, no fight left in her because she doesn't NEED to fight any more. It feels like a miracle. But those last words he says, they are important. Important for her to fight back upon.
She shakes her head slightly, "…can't promise that, Barney..I can't. I know me. When…shit like that happens, it's like…I'm not even there. Like go somewhere else and I just gotta do a thing and watch. I… don't even know those songs. It just happens. I don't get it… But… if I ever got a choice, I won't let it happen to you. THat was real damn clear already. This ain't something I gotta choice in. It's just… who I am." Her smile is totally gone now, something distant, freshly haunted, in her features, "…and it's gettin' worse. The dreams are. I… really… can't stop it."
*
"Hilde, 'cause whatever or whoever got me isn't gonna stop if they see you." Barney sounds adamant about this, and he's watching her as she stretches out a little more, obviously relaxing now as exhaustion begins to take hold. "I can't let that happen." Even if he ends up haunting her, he will.
Barney shakes his head and sets a hand out on a leg of hers. "You gotta sleep. Bed's in there," and he points back to the small hallway from the living room. "I got a few things I have to do. Check in again with my watch-dog." The one he'd lost soon after gaining him. "I'll bring food home later, but there should be something in the frigidaire."
*
Speaking of those dreams, Hilde really can't fight it any more. The back of her head, the wolves and poppy strew fields she's neglected too long, they come calling. Especially as he talks about death. As he says they're not going to stop, a strange, fierce smile cuts across her lips. Her eyes flash silver, just a moment, "…Let them try me." Hilde breathes out in a voice that is so unlike her own. A confidence she just doesn't keep. It's frightening, that look. Ancient and cold.
But then she's blinking tiredly, that silver fading as fast as it came, and her body is actually already sinking down to the couch. She's losing this fight, wrapped up in the blanket like a coocoon, "..mm…no,'sfine…just sleep.. here. You go…do you… I'll be here. Just sleep… few hours. 'swarm. Nice… " She really is going to drop off right on his couch, probably how their whole relationship started in the first place, unless he carries her somewhere else.
*
Barney misses the threat to the world at large as he goes to stand up again. She's all tucked away, but..
He turns 'round and leans over to pick up the weighs-nothing Hilde and cradle-carries her into the bedroom, regardless if there is an argument or not. Setting her down gently, he pulls the rest of the covers up so she can settle down in that little nest. "Don't answer the door. I'll be back.
"
*
No argument. A few drowsy, almost happy sounds as Hilde tucks herself against his chest. They are rare sounds from her, happy. But honest. A half asleep kiss is given to his collarbone. She really does weigh nothing, probably something to worry on the next few weeks. She'll need to remember what food is. Then she's being put down and she half complains until he's tucked blanketing around her. It's not even a minute until her breath fully evens out, sleep firmly taking her after being denied so long.
Somewhere, a wolf howls. Or, well, surely it's a dog. It's the city. There aren't wolves. But the howl is long and loud out over the city streets.
*