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You know I need somebody

It had taken some time for the shaking to subside, for the crying to run it's course, and for the exhaustion to light enough for Gretchen to really process everything. Everything had been bits and pieces, fragmented glimpses of chaos and violence. Her recollection of the night had taken time to come back to her, and when it had, when she'd remembered where she'd been when everything had gone dark, she hadn't been able to get to her phone fast enough.

Devika's laugh roared through her head as she typed out a very anxious message. The vines had cut her, but not bad enough to account for the blood she'd found on her hands or her clothing. There was an instant of absolute horror, or a sicking dread forming a knot in her stomach, making her nauseous.

The moment passed as he responded. Not all at once, but slowly, like the tide receding from the shore. Gretchen let out a shaky breath of relief, slumping against the wall, almost dizzy.

She hadn't hurt him. Thank God.

That did beg the question of who the blood did belong, but she couldn't think about that. She couldn't. It would break her.

So instead she started walking faster, firing off messages as she went until she'd arrived outside Isaac's door, and then the phone was abandoned as she leaned against it and announced herself in a shaky voice.

You know I need somebody

He'd been pacing ever since he'd woken; apparently he'd slept through some sort of attack. The details of the actual violence that had transpired above-ground had slowly trickled in thanks to Gretchen; there had been one comment, I tried to wake you up, that made him feel as though he'd let her down completely.

And maybe he had.

The door was already open, as were his arms, and the instant that she stepped into the room she'd be drawn into a tight embrace.

i will protect you from all that would devour you alive

He'd started carving her little woodland creatures in the hopes that she might start to feel less alone. On the nights she did not come to him, he went to her; should he find her sleeping, he'd leave a hodgepodge of shoddily carved squirrels, deer and rabbits. They looked more like lumps of wood than anything else, but there was a certain measure of devotion that went into each one of the grotesque little things.

"Every princess deserves a following," he'd told her at the start of it, grinning.

In your head they're still fighting

There was always a small, nagging feeling that she was bothering him when she did this. That he was just too nice to tell her no. The feeling was fueled by Devika's harsh words, but it only ever lasted until his arm looped around her waist to pull her in snugly against his chest.

The doubts faded, the tense followed with a soft sigh.

His chin found her shoulder, as it always did, and she curled to free her left leg from the prosthetic, letting it drop to the floor, before settling comfortably against him.

(They fit together easily, like puzzle pieces.)

Her hands found his, as they usually did. One under the pillow one holding her close, and she listened to the comforting rumble of his voice lull her back to sleep. Better than any lullaby.

Though tonight it was not idle, not merely comforting background noise. "It's warm enough here," she mused softly, wiggling back tighter against him. "You could probably grow pineapples as well." Her smile made it through her voice. "That sounds lovely, Isaac."

These little moments

Her back was against the wall, head tipped forward so she could look down at the man who was using her thigh as a pillow. There was a flower in his hair, a series of small braids and twists, and she was working on another as she hummed softly along to the song playing over her mini speaker.

As she finished the braid she looped it around a finger, used the tail of it to tickle over his cheek in a soft brush. "You're sure this is what you want to do?" It wasn't the first time she'd asked him that evening. "Not takin' a walk, or anything like that. Just lazin' about?" Soft brown eyes narrowed slightly as her smile grew, and she shifted her hands, fingers sliding back into his hair behind his ears as her thumbs smoothed along his cheeks and beard.

In your head they're still fighting

It was a switch that he could power on and off at will; Gretchen had and always would bring out the quiet, nurturing part of him. There were others who made him feel a strong sense of loyalty, and when she needed him like she did now, Isaac was hers and hers alone.

It was a switch that he could power on and off at will; Leslie evoked something else entirely in him, but that could be forgotten (set aside, left behind, shelved) because here and now Gretchen needed him more than anyone else, and he'd been conditioned to become what anyone needed from him.

This, this was the easy part. The gentle words and soft sounds, bodies pressed together in comfort and safety.

"Pineapples," he replied thoughtfully. "I had not thought of pineapples."

These little moments

His eyes were closed, and a smile twitched at his lips when the flick of the braid brushed against his cheek.

"There is nothing wrong in lazing about," he murmured softly, "it is actually a very proud and noble thing."

He allowed the flowers, the braids; they seemed to make her happy, and that pleased him. Besides that, he was comfortable, and she was smiling (he could hear it in her voice) and that was as close to nirvana as one man could get.

In your head they're still fighting

"Probably more, she mused thoughtfully, shifting her head against the pillow, savoring the coolness of the pillowcase beneath her cheek while it lasted.

"Dunno if you want trees, but you could probably grow oranges, or peaches." Warm as the island was, there were any number of fruits that would grow well in the environment they had to work with.

For a moment she was quiet, tired mind trying to thinking up other things that might flourish in a garden, then she thought of something else. "What about on the inside?"

Maybe he hadn't thought that far ahead, and that was fine. Gretchen was just curious, and she liked listening to the sound of his voice. It was deep and soothing, rumbling against her back.