run me like a river

Although she'd long since washed the dirt from her hair and scrubbed the blood from under her nails, Sohalia sat again in the bath, praying that this would be the time that would make her feel clean.

The night before had been hellish - in Soh's opinion, any woman's worst nightmare. And though she was glad for Mateo's intervention, she regretted that it had been needed. If only she'd been smarter, more aware of her surroundings, then perhaps all of it could have been avoided. Perhaps then she'd still feel safe.

She'd left the shop locked with the 'closed' sign in the window, unable and unwilling to face the day after she'd scurried home this morning, embarrassed, ashamed, and afraid. As she climbed from the bath, wincing in pain, Soh tried to push the memories from her mind. Perhaps if she just went about business as usual, she could just forget what had happened. She wrung her hair out with a towel and dressed quickly in a loose, comfortable shirt and trousers, fully intending to take the day off and maybe curl up on the couch with some tea and a good book, and see if she could force the demons from her mind.

A knock sounded at the door. Suddenly terrified - he's found me - Soh froze. She crept downstairs to peer out the window, and nearly collapsed with relief when she saw that it was just Tal. Remembering she'd invited him for lunch, she stiffened. What was she supposed to say, in her current state? Panicked and sick, she took a deep breath and unlocked the door, cracking it open a fraction to try to minimize what Tal could see. Still, it would be impossible to miss the vibrant bruising around her left eye, the torn eyebrow, the split lip. "Hey Tal," she said, "I'm, um, not feeling well-" But what else was there to say? If Tal insisted, she would let him come in and face the consequences of her actions.

He tried to stop in and see Soh whenever he was in Stormbreak on a delivery, and getting her invitation to lunch had been a stroke of good timing. The courier had checked his schedule and determined that he could spare an extra day in the floating city, and was looking forward to some tasty food and good conversation.

So when she cracked the door and said that she was sick it was with a mix of disappointment and concern that he peered into the shadowed gap, ready to offer to make a food run, at least, while he was--

"Fuckin' hail, Soh!" he swore fervently as the extent of her visible injuries sank in and he raised his hand towards her face instinctively before stopping and pulling it back to his chest. "What happened? Are you-- no, dumb question, 'course y'aren't okay. D'you need medicine or... or a doctor or...?" he trailed off in frustration at remembering that they were in Stormbreak and cut off from the more usual magical healers he was used to in Halo.

Tal swore, and Soh winced. She should have realized that it would be impossible to hide the bruises and cuts on her face. But when he reached for her, Soh flinched away. "Don't -" she said sharply, remembering the rough hand in her hair from the night before. Then she remembered that this was Tal, and he wouldn't do anything to hurt her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, tears springing to her eyes. She stepped back to let him in.

If Tal was observant, he would notice two things that were very out of character for Soh. First, she was dressed almost sloppily, in a larger-than-necessary, scoop-necked shirt that had fallen over one shoulder. Her hair was still damp from the bath and braided carelessly over the other shoulder. The effect, in a different time and place, might have been cute, but on Soh it just looked wrong. Second, she wore a dagger belted around her waist. Soh rarely went armed, and if she did, it certainly wasn't in her shop and home. If one looked closely enough, they would see blood speckled on the hilt of the dagger, and if it was removed from it's sheathe, it would be crusted with dried blood.

"I - I -" Soh stammered, her lip quivering. To explain what had happened would make Tal hate her, she was sure. But she couldn't think of an appropriate lie, either, nor could she bear to be untruthful to one of her best friends. In the end, she took longer than was appropriate to come up with something to say, so she turned away, wrapping her arms around herself as though to hold herself together. The back of her exposed shoulder was scratched from where she'd been thrown against the brick of the alley, and if Tal were to check her hands and knees, he would find them skinned from where she'd fallen. All in all, she was a mess.

"I've got medicine," she said finally. It was a half-truth at best, given that the drugs Mateo had given her were only sedatives to help keep panic attacks at bay and help her sleep, but even if she went to a doctor, she was sure there was little they'd be able to do. Her injuries just needed time to heal. Besides, she deserved her injuries.

When Soh flinched, Tal did as well, but the tears that sprang to her eyes and the whispered apology washed away any momentary hurt her reaction had caused. Something was wrong, and as a child of Halo he had experienced and watched others experience too much trauma over the years not to recognize it now. In the aftermaths of cultist attacks or cannibal raids the survivors always paid a price that lingered long after their physical scars had faded, but Soh's injuries were still fresh and even if he didn't know exactly what had happened he knew it had been bad.

She let him in, at least, and he followed quietly, closing the door gently before turning to look her over properly now that he was inside and could see her.

Never good at hiding his expression, his features shifted to grim lines as he took in her careless disarray and the shaking misery of his friend. He saw the knife, too, though he missed the blood at first as his gaze went quickly back to her face, even more worried about her now. "Okay," he said softly, talking to her like he would to one of his dogs that was injured, low and gentle. "It's okay. Let's start with tea, yeah?" Maybe it was rude but he didn't wait for his hostess to lead the way. He headed up the stairs first, throwing constant looks back over his shoulder to make sure she was following but it was Tal who headed for the little kitchen to put the kettle on and rummage for mugs and tea. He'd helped her put the place together, at least, so he mostly knew where things were as, in between his bustling, he urged her to sit down in the comfiest chair she had.

Sohalia was unaware of Tal's history with trauma, and even if she had known what all he had seen and endured, she likely would have felt just as worthless at the flash of hurt on his face before it was replaced instantly with concern. That just made her feel guilty. That Tal was having to involve himself in her personal affairs had not been her intention. She didn't deserve the kindness that he showed her. Maybe she never had.

Swallowing hard and biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from crying, she kept her arms wrapped around herself as Tal's face shifted to something grim. He knows, a voice whispered in the back of her mind, panic pressing against the sedatives that she'd taken before her bath. He knows what you did. Fortunately, the plants that Mateo had given her were potent in their effects, and she managed to hold herself together as Tal let her upstairs, casting worried looks over his shoulder as they went.

She tried to protest as Tal filled the tea kettle and rummaged for mugs and tea, but he pressed her gently into her favorite chair and bustled about the kitchen, seemingly content to take care of her. At the notion, her eyes filled again, and she swiped angrily at the tears that threatened, yelping softly when her hand jostled the bruise around her left eye.

The kettle was heating on the hob and Tal was fussing with measuring the tea when he heard the quiet noise of pain from behind him. He didn't drop the tea - he was too careful about wastage for that - but he set it down swiftly and moved back to Soh's side. "Here... lemme see that," he said, voice still gentle. Remembering how she'd flinched from him before he knelt beside her chair and brought his hand up slowly, extending it with the careful patience of a man used to tending injured animals. If she flinched again he would pause and wait patiently until she calmed before he finished bridging the distance between them.

His fingertips were light against her skin as he tilted his own head more than hers to see her black eye in the best light. "Mmf. Don't like that," he mumbled to himself, mouth tugging down into a frown. "Just a sec." He shifted back slowly before he moved back into the kitchen and the little sink. Finding a clean dish cloth he ran cold water over it, soaking it through and then rinsing it out before he padded back and handed it to Soh with pale eyes that asked questions and a mouth that said only. "Here, hold this over it for a while."

Suddenly, Tal was back, and he was crouching beside her chair. This time, when he reached slowly for her face, she flinched only slightly, more out of anticipation of pain than fear. But when his fingertips made contact, they were light and gentle, and she willingly turned her head to allow him to examine the bruising. Another person, in another time, might have responded to his statement by saying, I don't either. But Soh was not another person, and this wasn't another time, so she simply met his eyes in silence, her own eyes tear-filled and sad.

He moved away, back to the kitchen, and Soh stared at the wall, numb and unseeing, until he returned with a cold compress. She took it, gently settling it over her eye, wincing at the first contact. But after a moment, it started to feel soothing, and she relaxed, if only marginally. Tal's eyes were full of questions, but he didn't press her. "Thank you," Soh said, lip trembling. "That helps."

What was she going to do? She owed him the truth, especially after all this, but she knew that he would hate her after, and that, she couldn't bear. This was all her fault. If not for her stupidity, her weakness, they could have been enjoying a nice lunch. Instead, here she was, useless in her own home, as Tal tended to her with a care that she hadn't experienced since she was a child. She remembered being sick once, when she was very small, and her mother's cool hand on her forehead, gentle murmurings of reassurances. It was one of the few memories she had of either parent, and it was this that came to mind as Tal continued his ministrations.

Maybe it wasn't quite fair, treating Soh like an injured animal, but Tal wasn't nearly so good with humans as he was with dogs. As the youngest he had always been the one to be taken care of by others, and though he knew how his sisters had treated him, he'd had little practice passing it on to others who weren't four-legged and covered in fur.

He nodded at her thanks and hesitantly gave her knee a gentle pat before he headed back to the kitchen to answer the whistle of the kettle. He returned with the mugs, setting one on the side table beside Soh and keeping the other for himself as he settled down at her feet again and leaned against the side of the chair.

Now his eyes caught the speckles of rust-red on the pommel and hilt of her knife and his breath caught for a moment, but he forced himself to exhale slowly. Only then did he look up at her face again searchingly, but all he asked was: "Have you eaten anythin' today?"

In truth, treating an injured human and treating an injured animal weren't that different; the former was just able to put a voice to their wounds and illnesses. Soh didn't even realize that Tal was treating her with anything but kindness and gentleness, and even if she had, she wouldn't have minded. He was helping, and it meant more to her than she could say.

When he returned to the kitchen, Soh leaned back in her chair with the damp rag over her left eye, staring up at the ceiling with the right, unseeing. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, Tal knowing. After all, she'd tried to do what he'd told her - she'd tried to run, and when that didn't work, she just reacted in a way that would get her home. But she still couldn't shake the feeling that she was somehow dirty, somehow less than for her crime, and so she sat in silence, trying very hard to think of nothing at all.

Tal brought her a cup of tea, which she accepted with a murmured, "Thank you." She didn't notice his response to the knife, but she sat up a little straighter and tried her best to focus on only her friend, not anything from the night before. She tried to think of food, and her stomach rolled. "I - I ate last night, before..." She trailed off, looking away.

He didn't know what had happened or what thoughts were hunting through his friend's head, but between the injuries and her flinching he could make a guess. He tapped his fingers against the side of his mug, as much to relieve the heat on the pads of his fingers as to relieve the anxious concern he was trying to hide. He could cook simple things and he was mentally going through a list of what he might be able to make them when her answer brought his head up alertly.

"Bef--?" He caught himself, biting back the rest of the word and swallowing down hard. He ducked his head scowling at himself for the slip. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence he took a breath and let out a deep sigh before raising his head and looking at Soh's shoulder in lieu of meeting her eyes.

"...I figure... somethin' happened, yeah? But, look... y'don't have to talk about it if y'don't want to." He cleared his throat awkwardly and gave a little one-shoulder shrug. "I'm here for you, okay? Just... whatever y'need from me. I can make some food, help with any bandages... Or we can just sit here quietly t'gether for awhile."

Soh could tell that her friend was concerned, and though she desperately wanted to tell him the truth, her tongue felt like cotton in her mouth every time she tried to work up the courage. She'd been stupid and weak, and to admit that would mean that Tal would see her like that, too. So she sat in the uncomfortable silence, feeling fidgety and miserable, unable to meet Tal's gaze. After he finished speaking, she nodded, buying herself time by taking a sip of her tea. It was warm and flavorful, and Soh found herself comforted by the taste. Tal was being so patient with her. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to tell him at least a little bit.

She set her tea cup aside and sighed, shifting into a more comfortable position in her chair. The rag she held over her eye had warmed, so she slowly folded that and placed it by the tea. "I just - I was so stupid," she admitted, tears swimming in her eyes. "I don't - I don't want you to -" She shook her head, her thoughts swimming together. It was likely a combination of the drugs Mateo had given her and the trauma, but suddenly it was as though she were watching herself from outside her body. But she looked up to meet Tal's eyes, hesitant and afraid, and whispered, "You'll hate me," in a small voice.

He started to reach for the compress, intending to put fresh, cold water on it but Soh's words stopped him mid-reach. He slowly subsided back and looked up at her, his hand returning to cradle his mug as he watched her in silence with worried eyes as she broke off. Unable to see where she was injured beneath her clothes, he settled for resting his hand on the top of her foot and giving it a light squeeze of reassurance until she found her voice again.

Her gaze found his and he opened his mouth in instinctive, vehement protest of her fear--

And then shut it with a click of his teeth as he swallowed his fiery indignation and forced himself to give a small shake of his head instead. Raising his voice had never made his dogs feel better and he figured it wouldn't help Soh, either, so after a moment he cleared his throat and tried again, his voice soft, if gruff with emotion. "Y'came back safe, didn't ya? Not comin' back at all... that's the only thing I couldn't've forgiven."

Fortunately, the top of Soh's foot was one area that had remained uninjured, and the contact grounded her enough that she could voice what was, in this moment, her deepest fear. She braced herself for a reaction - what type of reaction, she didn't know - and was surprised when Tal's voice was soft with reassurance. Even if it was a brusque kind of comfort, she'd never paid any particular attention to Tal's gruffness before. Now there was a lump in her throat, fresh tears welling in her eyes as she considered her friend's generosity. Would he still have the same opinion after she told him what she'd done?

"I - I went to dinner at this restaurant in the Silk Houses last night," she began, her voice thick with unshed tears. She cleared her throat and took a sip of her tea. "There's this restaurant there, the Red Lion, it's one of my favorites. Anyway, when I left, I wasn't paying attention, and this man said he thought I'd dropped something, so I stopped..." Gods, if only she'd been more wary! "I thought he was just trying to rob me." Her voice sounded far away in her ears. "But then -" She broke off, trembling. "I - I tried to fight back, but I - I -"

She paused, trying to overcome her emotions. It was bad enough what the man had tried to do to her, but how was what she'd done to him any better? She forced herself to go on. "I ended up stabbing him," she confessed in a whisper. "I think - I think I killed him." She continued to shake, wrapping her arms around herself as though to hold herself together. Everything got a little fuzzy after that, a combination of shock and trauma, and now her brow furrowed in confusion. "And after that, I - it's all a blur. I know that Mateo was there, and he did... something with some kind of... talisman? And he said that the man wasn't dead, and then we ran..."

Her eyes were faraway and tormented as she relived the evening. She still didn't truly understand what Mateo had done to save the man, but she knew she'd been relieved not to be a murderer. But then, she'd seen the life leave the man's eyes. Even if he'd been brought back from the brink of death, she knew what she'd almost done. Didn't that make her a monster?

Tal would have understood if she had changed her mind or simply decided not to speak. Everyone he knew had secrets; things they were ashamed of, or things that hurt too much to share. It wouldn't have changed his opinion of his friend, though the curiosity and worry might have eaten him alive for awhile.

But she did start her tale, and he consciously clenched his jaw shut against his instinct to interject or interrupt. As much as he wanted to speak up at several points he forced himself to be content with gentle squeezes to her foot until she had run down, leaving him with so many more questions...

Not all of which had answers that Soh could give.

He took a deep breath and looked up, willing to meet his friend's eyes if she focused on him. "Soh. I don't hate you. Y'did everythin' I would've done. Everythin' I asked you t'do when we trained. Y'protected yourself. I dunno all the details but... a guy like that? Only one of you was walkin' out o' that street. An' I would choose you t'be the one comin' home every time." He squeezed her foot again, understanding now why she had flinched from him earlier and not wanting to scare her again by reaching higher until she was ready.

"'Sides, I've met Mateo a few times. Weird kid, but if he says the guy was alive, then I believe 'im. You survived, Soh. That's all that matters t'me."