ownperson: (pb; purple hurt glare)
Agent South Dakota ([personal profile] ownperson) wrote in [community profile] goneawayworld 2021-04-13 07:57 am (UTC)

Around them, the sounds of the fight pick up. The explosions get closer, the shots further apart; reloading takes time and there's less bullets in a sniper than there are grenades in a Bruteshot. Grenades can do more damage than a single bullet.

Past-South keeps waiting.

Present-South all but growls at Washington. He didn’t ask to be here, no, but she doesn’t want him here, she doesn’t want him to see this, to hold this over her, to see the way this is affecting her. She’s shaking, pitifully. Shaking and staring at her past self as if she can will her to move, to fucking do something.

“I waited too long,” that’s what she says, instead of the venom that she wants to spit at him. “God fucking dammit I waited too—”

The next time North shouts for her, it's not over the radios. His voice rings out. "SOUTH!"

Present-South looks like she’s going to be sick as her past self’s shoulders draw tight, and South remembers the way she was gritting her teeth, the way her jaw was tense, the way her hands begun to shake as she just kept waiting.


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