Welcome to Gaia! ::

Wash wasn't long in coming back, making his way from the infirmary. His cracked ribs were healing well, according to the techs there - in a few more days all that'd be left of the injuries were a memory; even the ugly bruises would fade away. As he reached for the door handle, he stopped, and took in a deep breath. That coppery scent...

He summoned his weapon, suddenly alert, turning the knob and peering in just a crack -

Sasha.

Wash slipped in silently, releasing Sally and placing her totem back in his pocket. These were definitely her things, unrecognizable as they were. He picked them up gingerly, and realized his hands were trembling. Strange. thought distantly. So much blood, an' I didn't see her in the infirmary... He wrapped the filthy clothing in a dirty towel before placing them on top the hamper, and sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. Had it really been a week? She had to be okay, he reasoned with himself. Otherwise, she'd be running half-dead and stark naked across the island, and that seemed unlikely at best.

With that somewhat reassuring thought, he took inventory. His bathrobe was missing. Ah. He schooled his face to stillness. Whatever had happened, he didn't want to add to her burden. Instead, he grabbed up the bundle of bloody things and made his way to the dormitory's shared laundry room, leaving a hastily scrawled note.

I'll take care of it. Welcome home.

He had started to add more, but stopped. They could talk about whatever had happened when she was ready.

It didn't take Wash long to throw what remained of Sasha's clothing into a washer with possibly entirely too much bleach. He walked back slowly, retracing his steps, concentrating on the movement. Trying not to wonder. Trying not to worry.

As he gingerly entered the room, the sound of her broken sobs made him pause. He had to close his eyes, sink deep into that pool of calm that existed only in his mind. It was heart-wrenching, that sound. Every step closer to the bed felt like a mile, until he could finally reach out and gently touch her hair-

"Sasha?" He pulled her close. "Sasha, baby, it's gon' be alright, okay?"

Wash was silent a moment, resting chin atop her head so that she couldn't see the emotions that played across his features. Her weapon. Gone. It was shock, and horror, all at once. Even Sally seemed grim. The island was a dangerous place, and judging from her state, the missions she was being sent on were moreso...

He squeezed her tight, ignoring the protests of his bruised sides.

"We'll get 'er back, okay?" Even if I have to go to the ends of the Earth. After all, Ami's weapon had broken, hadn't it? And yet he'd seen her recently, fighting alongside everyone... "I won't let nothin' happen to you, cher."

He leaned back and cupped the side of her face.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Wash watched her eyes, studied her face; considering. His initial instinct was to say no, to tell her she was crazy if she thought he'd let her go back there unarmed, but if his spar with Rep had proved anything, it was that he had a long way to go. He wasn't strong enough to protect someone, much less take care of himself. He'd be a distraction at best, a liability at worst.

The thought stung, but she was right, and he couldn't deny it.

"Only, if, ma'am," he countered, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb, "you promise not t' go back alone. Take somebody with you, please."

He paused.

"Hell, take Jerry."

Rep was the strongest hunter, combat-wise, that he'd on the island, but that was obviously not an option. Besides, Jerry had been promoted not long ago, and he was powerful, when he could keep his emotions in check. And most importantly - Wash trusted him.

Trust was a rare commodity, here.

He listened to her story, head bowed. The idea of letting her go back there, without him, was painful. Excruciating. He tried to push past the dread, however, to focus on her words; on comforting her. He pressed his fingertips over her spine, making small circles up and down her back.

Shadows, like the dormitory.

"Okay," he murmured. "What happened next?" His tone was soft, gentle. She was rattled, but he hoped in the telling she could find some comfort. And then they'd work on a solution.

Somehow.

Locked into a crypt? Wash rubbed her back in long, soothing strokes. A crypt sounded entirely too much like a dark, dank cell, deep beneath the sands...

"Strange. Was she th' only one there? How'd you get out?" His words were careful, his voice controlled. Low and steady. It's just a story - it happened to someone else. Not her. Never her. I'm not strong enough to protect her. It was small, that seed of doubt, and the soil rocky, yet it was sprouting slowly anyway.

"No, shh, shh," Wash murmured, holding her close. "It ain't your fault. You'll get her back."

Knights of Mela. He had no idea what it meant, but it sounded important.

"Whoever it was, she couldn't 'a gone far, right? Did you see 'er again?" Two days...that only accounted for maybe half of her time away. Still, completely losing two days was frightening all on it's own.