"Is... this a bad time?" he asks, sounding easily as confused, if not more.
It's not as if he doesn't realize that something pressing must have come up, for her to still be here. He just has no idea what that might be, or what she might be doing with her time right now that would make her sound so unsure.
"No, not at all," she replies, and steps aside to let him in. "Please, come
in. I guess I wasn't expecting to see you -- well, I wasn't expecting
anyone, but --" And she takes a deep breath, as if to steady herself and
mitigate what might become nervous rambling. They'd already said their
goodbyes, and the fact she's still here makes her feel like she'd been
lying, and he's one of the last people she would ever want to lie to. She
slows down, and makes eye contact when she sincerely asks, "How are you?"
"Oh, fine, fine," he says. Then he remembers -- and it hasn't actually been apparent until he starts walking -- that he's still limping, still has the cane the infirmary gave him pressed into his side. That, in a nutshell, his stupid leg still hurts.
He clears his throat delicately. "Well-- other than the obvious. I'm afraid I ran afoul of a pair of corrupt federal agents while I was back in Chicago and one of them shot me."
Her eyes widen slightly, as she looks from the cane to his leg, quickly
assessing the damage, and then back up to his face with a look that's
somewhere between fretful and entirely unsurprised. "Again? Were these
people someone you already knew, too?" The gentle chiding doesn't keep her
from pulling a chair over for him; she's teasing, not uncivilized.
"Not well, no, but they were trying to murder the man I had in my custody," he tells her, absolutely straight-faced on this one. Ray Vecchio's jokes aside, he doesn't have much humor in him for this little episode.
He pauses to sit, bracing himself heavily on the cane, because the wound being where it is, that process hurts a hell of a lot more than walking. It's not so bad once he's gritted his teeth and gotten through it, though. He lets out a breath, swipes a hand across his forehead, and looks up at her. "And that was Gerard -- the man who killed my father, then escaped from prison."
"Oh, lovely," she replies sarcastically, but with a kind of camaraderie and
sympathetic sigh as she takes a seat of her own, on the couch. "Tell me you
at least managed to put him back where he belongs?"
"Oh, yes," he says, with an air of grim finality. "And with several additional years on his sentence, as I understand it -- although given the length of the original sentence, I suppose they're mostly theoretical."
Still, he can't say he objects. His forgiveness has a hard, cold limit, and anything that ensures Gerard spends a nice long life in prison is just fine by him.
"Good." Caitlin might have had a heart more prone to forgiveness, at one
point, but letting Frost in ensures that she can make certain exceptions
for people who truly aren't sorry for what they've done. This counts. "So
it sounds like you've been busy. How long was it, for you? Cause it's been
... I think just a few days, here?"
She's not fully certain, herself, but to be fair it's been harder to keep
track of him when his whereabouts aren't listed on her warden item anymore.
"A few weeks," he admits with some chagrin, because he absolutely wasn't supposed to be gone that long, and he knows it. He also wasn't supposed to be doing things that would get him shot. He'd like to think he has all-around solid excuses for both, though.
"The trip up north was an adventure unto itself," he sighs, "and upon my return to Chicago, I met my new commanding officer, who tried to fire me. By the time that was sorted out, Gerard had escaped."
A few weeks is better than a few years -- she's heard of that happening to
people, when they decide to take a brief leave of absence. Things happen,
and people change, and it's something of a comfort to know that Fraser
hasn't actually changed that much, all told. Which does make her
wonder ... "Did you remember us? While you were gone?"
"Oh, yes," he says, definitely looking guilty now. "I remembered everything. It wasn't easy to stay away, but with events unfolding as they did..." He can't say he exactly regrets being there long enough to take down Gerard again, after all.
"I did miss you all, very much," he adds, softening. That finally gives him a chance to turn the tables, too. "Though I'll admit, Caitlin, I didn't entirely expect to be seeing you again so soon..?"
"I didn't expect to still be here," she admits, a little embarrassed to be
saying it, especially after they'd had such emotional goodbyes before
Fraser had left. "But Bucky's getting married in a few weeks, and he's
asked me to be a witness. I figured with all he's done to help me, I can
wait a few more weeks. I just hope the ship doesn't get turned inside out
again, or whatever other crazy thing might happen that'd make me regret
it."
"Is he?" Fraser raises his brows, surprised. "So it has been an eventful week."
He knows about Bucky and Steve, of course, but given the various givens, he wouldn't have expected that -- not for two guys hailing from 40s-era Brooklyn. "Well -- please pass my congratulations along to them, then."
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It's not as if he doesn't realize that something pressing must have come up, for her to still be here. He just has no idea what that might be, or what she might be doing with her time right now that would make her sound so unsure.
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"No, not at all," she replies, and steps aside to let him in. "Please, come in. I guess I wasn't expecting to see you -- well, I wasn't expecting anyone, but --" And she takes a deep breath, as if to steady herself and mitigate what might become nervous rambling. They'd already said their goodbyes, and the fact she's still here makes her feel like she'd been lying, and he's one of the last people she would ever want to lie to. She slows down, and makes eye contact when she sincerely asks, "How are you?"
no subject
He clears his throat delicately. "Well-- other than the obvious. I'm afraid I ran afoul of a pair of corrupt federal agents while I was back in Chicago and one of them shot me."
no subject
Her eyes widen slightly, as she looks from the cane to his leg, quickly assessing the damage, and then back up to his face with a look that's somewhere between fretful and entirely unsurprised. "Again? Were these people someone you already knew, too?" The gentle chiding doesn't keep her from pulling a chair over for him; she's teasing, not uncivilized.
no subject
He pauses to sit, bracing himself heavily on the cane, because the wound being where it is, that process hurts a hell of a lot more than walking. It's not so bad once he's gritted his teeth and gotten through it, though. He lets out a breath, swipes a hand across his forehead, and looks up at her. "And that was Gerard -- the man who killed my father, then escaped from prison."
no subject
"Oh, lovely," she replies sarcastically, but with a kind of camaraderie and sympathetic sigh as she takes a seat of her own, on the couch. "Tell me you at least managed to put him back where he belongs?"
no subject
Still, he can't say he objects. His forgiveness has a hard, cold limit, and anything that ensures Gerard spends a nice long life in prison is just fine by him.
no subject
"Good." Caitlin might have had a heart more prone to forgiveness, at one point, but letting Frost in ensures that she can make certain exceptions for people who truly aren't sorry for what they've done. This counts. "So it sounds like you've been busy. How long was it, for you? Cause it's been ... I think just a few days, here?"
She's not fully certain, herself, but to be fair it's been harder to keep track of him when his whereabouts aren't listed on her warden item anymore.
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"The trip up north was an adventure unto itself," he sighs, "and upon my return to Chicago, I met my new commanding officer, who tried to fire me. By the time that was sorted out, Gerard had escaped."
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A few weeks is better than a few years -- she's heard of that happening to people, when they decide to take a brief leave of absence. Things happen, and people change, and it's something of a comfort to know that Fraser hasn't actually changed that much, all told. Which does make her wonder ... "Did you remember us? While you were gone?"
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"I did miss you all, very much," he adds, softening. That finally gives him a chance to turn the tables, too. "Though I'll admit, Caitlin, I didn't entirely expect to be seeing you again so soon..?"
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"I didn't expect to still be here," she admits, a little embarrassed to be saying it, especially after they'd had such emotional goodbyes before Fraser had left. "But Bucky's getting married in a few weeks, and he's asked me to be a witness. I figured with all he's done to help me, I can wait a few more weeks. I just hope the ship doesn't get turned inside out again, or whatever other crazy thing might happen that'd make me regret it."
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He knows about Bucky and Steve, of course, but given the various givens, he wouldn't have expected that -- not for two guys hailing from 40s-era Brooklyn. "Well -- please pass my congratulations along to them, then."