Rawne looks up when the doors fly open and Quentin barges in. He's not hurt, but he's curled up on one of the chairs, arms around his legs, knees under his chin.
Says Quentin, and takes the unusual step of moving in, tucking his arm around Rawne's shoulders.
"I won't grill you until we get you home. Please know in advance that as I do, once we get there, it's because I'm very worried for you, try to bear up patiently under the outpouring of emotion you're about to be walloped with."
"Great." Rawne leans on him, keeping his face down. He's really not sure what he's going to do, once they get to Quentin's room. He's been in a haze ever since Franky showed up and he realized he failed to avenge Norton's death. Anything could happen.
He gets him there, and through the door, and then back to the cozy little kitchen where they've sat together a hundred times now. He pushes him gently down into a chair, and goes to put coffee on, leaving him a second of quiet to process.
The moment he hits the chair, he flops like his strings have been cut. He stares at the table without really seeing it. Useless, useless, useless rings in his head.
"It means it's now doubly as unhelpful. She was confused when she got here because she'd come from a place where she was being attacked by reality warpers. She lashed out, then figured out where she was, then stopped. Now because you guys have decided to take vengeance on an honest mistake that was previously over, it's not over any more. She goes for Pagan, you go for her again, she comes for you- your endgame is what?"
"Pagan was supposed to lure her to someone's cabin and then we'd kill her there. I guess she was jumpier than we thought." Maybe she expected retaliation?
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Says Quentin, skittering to a halt in front of him, crouching so they're at level.
"Are you hurt? Can I get you home? If you're not bleeding out you can come to my place, we can make you a cup of coffee."
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Also, once he's alone, he may just dump the whole thing on Quentin. He's not sure if he can lie to him, now. But he wants to not be here.
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Offering him an arm to help him to his feet.
"Whatshisname messaged the warden network. New guy."
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Says Quentin, and takes the unusual step of moving in, tucking his arm around Rawne's shoulders.
"I won't grill you until we get you home. Please know in advance that as I do, once we get there, it's because I'm very worried for you, try to bear up patiently under the outpouring of emotion you're about to be walloped with."
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Says Quentin, after a moment, setting a plate of cookies down on the table, and moving to sit in the chair opposite.
"Better start from the beginning."
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Finally, he speaks. "For one, I'm not trusting Pagan to plan our way out of a paper bag. Larry was right, the whole thing was fethed."
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"What was Pagan planning?"
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Says Quentin- who knows that story, and hadn't thought it was super-revenge requiring.
"Why?"
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"She killed him. I'm supposed to kill her back. In revenge. That's how it works." Also Norton wanted him to and Norton can be very... persuasive.
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Says Quentin, gently.
"I mean maybe in one specific heuristic, but that's such a weird thing to take for granted."
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"What, you wouldn't avenge someone you loved?"
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That had been a rough port.
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"But why is it different here?" That's probably the part he's not getting the most.
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He may notice.
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He bites hard on his tongue and doesn't say it.
"So what was the plan?"
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