Well, I kind of owe Orwell-is-Watching a fic. Be warned, this is going to necessitate a lot of tissues, folks.
Un-beta'ed, so quibble away.
- o – o -
Hold Me Close
Jamie Elaine Fleming was a practical young woman. She liked spending time with the carnival, her computers, and coffee. (Generally not in that order, but the point remained.) She did not like it when things didn't go according to plan.
And at the moment, she was very, very unhappy. Things had not gone according to plan, and now her father was going to pay for it.
Three hours ago, some off-duty ARK troopers had stumbled out of a bar on Sycamore Boulevard. For whatever reason, they hadn't turned in their weaponry at the end of shift. All of them had had blood alcohol content at least three times the legal limit. They'd seen two people walking home from a comic book store, and decided to have fun.
Three hours ago, Vince Faraday had become a widower with no family.
So, of course Jamie needed to do something. After she killed her father, and burned ARK to the ground. And maybe she'd dance on his grave afterwards.
But not right now. Vince needed her, and she wasn't one to abandon her friends, because she was practical.
- o – o -
Vince was sitting on his bed when Orwell came back to the hideout. The vigilante was clothed in his boxers and a tanktop, staring dully at the opposite wall. The picture of his wife and son was clutched in one hand, as though it was his lifeline to the rest of the world. Orwell couldn't help but feel her heart break at the sight.
"Vince?"
The vigilante looked at here, blue eyes bright with unshed tears.
"Vince? I…I brought coffee. And food." Orwell smiled at him, gesturing for her partner to come down. The vigilante responded mechanically, movements a little wooden. "Oh Vince," Orwell sighed, pulling him onto the sofa. "I'm so sorry."
Vince's face fell, and he curled up into a tight ball, sobbing his heart out. Nearly ten minutes later, the sobs abated, long enough for the former police officer to speak. "Why?" he asked, so quietly Orwell had to strain to hear him. "Why them? Why my family?"
Orwell pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back as she tried to think of a response that wouldn't break him. "I don't know," she admitted quietly, kissing him on the forehead. "I don't know."
Vince began sobbing again, and Orwell sat on the sofa, holding her partner as he sobbed himself to sleep. The coffee and the food she'd brought back to the cave sat on the table, growing colder with each minute.
As much as Orwell liked coffee, it just wasn't important. The most important thing in the world was right here in her arms, sobbing while he slept. The hacker rubbed his back and began formulating a plan.
She was practical. And practical people were hard to catch when they planned a murder or three.
Orwell kissed her partner one more time before she left the hideout. She needed to speak with her father.
Because no one made her partner break.
- o – o -
Well...that was angsty. What did you think? Good? Bad? Going to find a box of tissues like I am? Drop a line and let me know.