[ Parker looks steadily back at Eliot when he glances at her. She doesn't like imagining it. But she knows what had happened, that he'd died, and more importantly, she knows he'd come back. She can stand hearing him talk about it.
She's just glad she'd never had to see it.
Eliot had, though. And he can't like talking about it either, even if he pushes through and tells them. Hardison can err on the side of respecting boundaries and personal space all he wants. Parker just reaches out and tugs Eliot closer, insistently, until they're all tangled together in a reassuring little pile. Until she almost feels safe. ]
Will it keep going?
[ The fire had seemed to stop of its own accord, as if there was an invisible boundary between the houses on the west side of town and the business district. But who can say that won't change? ]
no subject
She's just glad she'd never had to see it.
Eliot had, though. And he can't like talking about it either, even if he pushes through and tells them. Hardison can err on the side of respecting boundaries and personal space all he wants. Parker just reaches out and tugs Eliot closer, insistently, until they're all tangled together in a reassuring little pile. Until she almost feels safe. ]
Will it keep going?
[ The fire had seemed to stop of its own accord, as if there was an invisible boundary between the houses on the west side of town and the business district. But who can say that won't change? ]
What if this burns down too?