I don't know who I am, I don't know who I'll be
Remi slips his arm more firmly around Ronin’s waist, anchoring him in tight, the way one might hold a man trying not to drown on dry land. The tremble in Ronin’s body says enough—whatever strength got him out of that basement is ebbing fast—and Remi bears more of his weight without comment. When Ronin’s legs falter again, they stop. Still, he doesn’t risk letting go.
So when Ronin tilts his head up, eyes bloodshot and rimmed with exhaustion, they’re startlingly close. That blue, glassy with something more than just pain, reaches for something steady. Remi’s throat works as he nods, a low murmur passing between them, almost lost to the creak of the old stairs beneath their feet. "We can talk about it later," he says, voice hushed and hoarse.
The climb is slow and grim. By the time they reach the porch, the sirens are beginning to curl through the air like the start of a storm. Remi helps guide Ronin down gently, crouching to brace him until the other man settles. The moment he does, Remi starts to rise—likely to find water, or space, or anything that might feel helpful—but Isla’s voice halts him.
"I’m fine," he says quietly, not quite meeting her eyes and brushing his palms against the thighs of his jeans more out of reflex than need. "You should stay with him." His gaze flicks back to Ronin for just a second, enough for something to stir in his expression—relief, maybe. Or guilt, still coiled low and quiet where no one’s asked the right question yet. "I won't be able to answer their questions," he adds with a nod toward the approaching paramedics.
Should Isla stay with the paramedics, Remi will busy himself helping the crew packup. It's the least he can do to make up for all the drama, he assures them, taking supplies back to the van. Inside, the equipment waits exactly as he would expect. Cables coiled. Battery lights blinking. Camera bodies glinting like half-shuttered eyes. The cards are easy enough to find, especially given Isla's careful handwriting: basement-1, basement-2, basement-3.
By the time Isla is done dealing with the EMTs, there will be a few less cards in the kit than there had been before.
So when Ronin tilts his head up, eyes bloodshot and rimmed with exhaustion, they’re startlingly close. That blue, glassy with something more than just pain, reaches for something steady. Remi’s throat works as he nods, a low murmur passing between them, almost lost to the creak of the old stairs beneath their feet. "We can talk about it later," he says, voice hushed and hoarse.
The climb is slow and grim. By the time they reach the porch, the sirens are beginning to curl through the air like the start of a storm. Remi helps guide Ronin down gently, crouching to brace him until the other man settles. The moment he does, Remi starts to rise—likely to find water, or space, or anything that might feel helpful—but Isla’s voice halts him.
"I’m fine," he says quietly, not quite meeting her eyes and brushing his palms against the thighs of his jeans more out of reflex than need. "You should stay with him." His gaze flicks back to Ronin for just a second, enough for something to stir in his expression—relief, maybe. Or guilt, still coiled low and quiet where no one’s asked the right question yet. "I won't be able to answer their questions," he adds with a nod toward the approaching paramedics.
Should Isla stay with the paramedics, Remi will busy himself helping the crew packup. It's the least he can do to make up for all the drama, he assures them, taking supplies back to the van. Inside, the equipment waits exactly as he would expect. Cables coiled. Battery lights blinking. Camera bodies glinting like half-shuttered eyes. The cards are easy enough to find, especially given Isla's careful handwriting: basement-1, basement-2, basement-3.
By the time Isla is done dealing with the EMTs, there will be a few less cards in the kit than there had been before.
but there's a light in the attic and I swear it's calling me
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
