Two logs, FINALLY.

[x-coldhands.livejournal.com]

Log the First: Thursday night, a while after Doug makes his peace offering, yet another person finds Paige curled up in Bobby's arms...


Bobby should have probably gotten up and taken Paige to her room, already. The cold from the floor didn't bother him, of course--but the hard was starting to get to his tailbone. Still, he was wary of moving that much, not wanting to disturb the sleeping Paige, and Doug's offering of the blanket meant he didn't have to worry about Paige being too cold, so he'd simply stayed where he was, starting to half-drift off to sleep himself.

The brittle balance of his sleep was disturbed by the sound of approaching footsteps, that went past him at first, then came back to stop right in front of him. Then there was silence. Bobby opened his eyes and looked up. "Hi," he said, quietly, shortly, his expression shuttered. His arms tightened around Paige slightly.

Jono merely nodded in reply, then sat unceremoniously on the floor. "How's she?" he asked, gesturing at Paige with a hand almost hidden inside a black sleeve.

"Exhausted," Bobby snapped back. "Stressed, worried, upset...how do you expect her to be?" He glared at Jono and took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice down.

"I would expect her to sleep in her own bed," Jono replied mildly, not bothered by Bobby's glowering. "She always thinks other people's injuries are a good excuse for her to take little care with herself."

"She's sleeping where she wants to. I wasn't going to argue with her." Of course, Bobby didn't clarify whether 'where she wants to' was referring to outside Angelo's door, or in his lap. Let Jono draw his own conclusions. He also didn't respond to the second comment, because well...can't argue the truth, right?

Jono's eyes flicked over the both of them, taking in the situation, and Bobby's arms around Paige. There was a little displeased wrinkle between his eyebrows. "I'm just surprised you're the only ones camping here."

"There've been a few other people, in and out," Bobby answered. "Hank's kept most of them from hanging around all night. We're just the stubborn ones, I guess." He raised an eyebrow and asked, "Why are you here?"

"Oh, I just like the atmosphere," Jono said, the sarcasm coming to him naturally. Then he shrugged one shoulder. "I'm here probably for the same reason you are," he amended then.

"Right." Bobby snorted, because he found it difficult to believe that any of the reasons he was here applied to Jono. "So you're worried sick about Angelo too, then?" he challenged.

"Worried, yeah," Jono admitted, leaning back on his hands. "For her sake," he gestured at the sleeping Paige with his imitation of a chin. "But I think Angelo's going to be all right. Again for her sake." There was another nod towards Paige.

"For her sake." Bobby pulled his arm from where it was wrapped around Paige, pressing his palm to the floor. "Why don't you worry about her, for her sake?" The faint sound of cracking ice could be heard as a thin layer started to spread from under his hand. "Have you not noticed how she's been the last week? Because everyone else has!" His voice remained low, but his cheeks were pink with his anger.

The movement was a little one, but it was obvious that Jono did it to be able to stare past Bobby. "Why is everything here everyone else's business?" he asked flatly. "I didn't know I needed to explain myself to you."

"You don't." Bobby glanced down at the ice slick next to him and absently added a rough surface to the top of it, not wanting anyone to slip if they came along later. "But I care about Paige, and I don't like to watch her hurting." He slid his arm under Paige's legs, getting ready to get to his feet. "So don't hurt her."

There wasn't a good reply to that, although Jono briefly debated telling Bobby that with him getting hurt was almost inevitable. He watched the white wall instead, feeling the chill that had spread to the floor from the ice.

Bobby got to his feet, careful not to jostle Paige too much. "I'm taking her up to bed. Are you going to hang around here?"

"Yeah," Jono glanced up at him, then at Paige. "Someone's got to stay. The universe would implode if there was no one hanging around the medlabs."

"Let her know if you hear anything, then." He wouldn't ask Jono to do him any favors, even though he was almost as worried about his friend as Paige was, but he knew Paige would kill all of them if Angelo's status changed and nobody told her. "She has her phone. Oh, and hand me that thermos?" He nodded to the floor near where he'd been sitting.

"She has her phone? Convenient. I'd ring her, if I could actually speak." Jono rolled to his feet, snatching up the thermos on the way. "Here," he said, offering it to Bobby, both of his hands rather occupied with Paige. "Where do you want it?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "So have someone else call her." He glanced at the thermos. "Just...tuck it in somewhere. I'm sure the lid's on tight."
Jono: Jono gave the lid a twist to make sure it really was closed, then pushed it under Bobby's arm. "Is that all right?" Then he brushed his fingers across Paige's forehead and down her cheek, before stepping back.

"Yeah, that's fine," Bobby said quietly. He nodded to Jono and headed toward the stairs. Jono watched him go for a while, then turned to go see Angelo.


Log the Second: John/Bobby, Friday night just before Bobby heads to bed, he checks on John once more--and finds him awake.



Bobby slowly pushed the door to John's room open, looking at him warily as he entered. "...You're awake."

John looked over at the door, then away again without a word, trying to hide a wince as his calf muscle started cramping.

Bobby sighed. "Nice to see you again, too." He took a few cautious steps toward John. "Do you want me to leave?"

John hissed in pain. "Do what you want..." Quietly, to himself, "shit..."

"What happened to you the other night?" Bobby asked quietly. "You--" He swallowed and forced himself to continue. "--Weren't helping them, were you?" He couldn't meet John's eyes as he asked.

John blinked at the question. "...helping them? Fuck off." He winced.

Bobby frowned, his voice rising slightly. "Hey, can you blame me for wondering? After last summer..." He folded his arms across his chest, tucking his hands into his armpits to conceal the radiating cold as his emotions rose.

John grimaced as Bobby's voice got louder. "...Look, if you're going to stay, stay quietly. Head's fucking pounding." He looked over at Bobby, glaring as best he could. "And this isn't last summer, or hadn't you noti-" his words were cut off as his thigh cramped. "Fuck," he said with a wince, trying to curl up.

Bobby forced his voice low as he watched John. "Sorry. Are you--should I get Hank?" He tried to hide the worry on his face at John's obvious suffering.

"What...what for? Can't fix it...keeps happening, won't...shit...won't stop..." John choked out, his teeth clenched against the pain wracking him. The cramps finally started to calm and he slumped, muttering, "Fucking hate this..." He reached up, wiping at his face with a shaky hand.

Bobby sighed, then quickly pressed his lips together as his breath appeared in a cloud of cold vapor. "Look, maybe I should just go," he mumbled, starting to back toward the door.

"Found out what you needed to know?" John taunted.

Bobby scoffed softly, shaking his head. "Yeah. Something like that. God, I was an idiot for thinking you and I could have a civil conversation." He turned to the door and added, "Hope you feel better soon, Zippo."

John struggled to sit up, ignoring a cramp in his arm. "Civil conversation? You came in here wanting to know, I dunno...if I'd opened the back door for them or something! Extremely fucking civil, don't you think?" he shot indignantly.

Bobby turned, leaning on the door as he looked at John. "It was a fair question, John. I mean, I come across a hallway full of fire, you unconscious, and Angelo burnt all to hell...what am I supposed to think?"

John just stared for a moment, before whispering, "...what?"

Bobby looked confused at this reaction at first. Then he paled slightly, as he realised, "You didn't know... of course you didn't." He took a deep breath. "Angelo was burned. Badly."

John stared at him some more, and then started struggling to sit up so he could get out of bed, muttering and swearing to himself. He looked to Bobby and asked, "What the fuck happened that night? When was that night?" Finally managing to sit upright, he grabbed at his head as the headache really kicked in.

Bobby rolled his eyes and crossed the room to John's bed, placing a hand in the center of his chest and pressing him back. "Lie down, idiot, and I'll tell you. It was night before last."

Jerking back from Bobby's cold hand, John almost whimpered, the sudden movement sending a bolt of sharp pain through his head. He slowly sunk back down.

Noting the reaction, Bobby absently shook his hand in the air and then stuffed it in his pocket. "Sorry," he mumbled, grabbing a chair and dragging it next to the bed. "Okay. So a bunch of soldiers, or assassins, or...someone, broke into the place, took some kids as hostages...and ended up regretting it for the most part, from what I hear. That's all I know." He licked his lips and quietly asked, "What happened to you that night?"

John closed his eyes, his voice only a whisper as he tried to ignore the throb in his head. "...Heard Wisdom shouting...grabbed my lighter--" His eyes flew open suddenly, looking right at Bobby. "My lighter! Where...where's my lighter?"

Bobby looked away and mumbled quietly, "I'll see if I can find it for you."

John looked at him for a moment, then nodded and winced, because damn, that made his head hurt more. "Uhm...okay. Went out into the hall..." He tensed up for a moment and then slumped again. "...hall...saw these guys and they all had kids, looked like they were trying to get out. Tried to stop them with a firewall..." He paused for a long moment, wracking his brain for further memories. "That's it."

"The kids all got away. I think Angelo's hurt the worst, there were a couple of gunshot wounds, Amanda's down here with...a concussion, I think." Bobby frowned as another detail popped into his head. "Nobody's seen Jubes since it happened, though."

John nodded, wincing again at the movement. "Have to see Angelo..." Once again he made a movement to sit up, stopping as his head threatens to fall off with Pain.

Bobby growled in frustration. "Stop it! You can't see him. No one can, yet. Just stay put, would you?" He forced himself to not reach out and lay a hand on John's arm, because his hands were still pretty cold, and the fewer sudden movements John made, the better, it seemed.

John had already slumped back onto the bed, holding his head again. He whispered, almost to himself, "What the fuck happened...ow--Christ."

"That's what I'd like to know." Bobby reluctantly stood, realising that he was only supposed to stay for a brief visit. "Look. Hank's gonna kick me out any minute. I just...can we talk some time? When you're feeling better, of course." There. He'd said it.

"Whatever...yeah..." John replied quietly, distracted by pain.

Bobby nodded, figuring that was the best he'd get from John, in his current condition. "All right." He walked toward the door, turning as his hand gripped the knob. "You'll be okay," he said softly, trying to convince himself as much as he was reassuring John.

John quietly replied, "Always okay..." He winced as another muscle cramp seized him.

"Yeah. Sure," Bobby scoffed. He gently opened the door and slipped out, whispering, "Take care, John," as he went.