He twitches in his sleep, his eyelids fluttering, his frown deepening. It fits the lines on his face perfectly, like he wears this expression all the time; this sad, scared hopelessness that makes him sink into the mattress.
He's not really a sleep-talker, but that doesn't stop him from making noise: a whimper, a gasp, a muffled no again.
For a little while, he's utterly still but then, with a full-body jerk, he's awake, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, heaving in great lungfuls of air as he stares blankly at the wall beside him, every muscle in his body tense like he's bracing for a punch.
She’s not sure how to handle this – does she wake him? Shake his shoulder? Or continue to be a solid presence in the face of whatever plagues him in his subconscious? Gipsy knows what it’s like to be haunted by the past, but Jaegers tend not to express it in the way that Hercules presently is. The frown troubles her, and she carefully, gently strokes her fingertips down his brow, trying to smooth out the worry lines.
She continues this motion until he jerks awake and her hands move to give him a steady presence on his shoulders, her voice soft.
“Hercules. This is Gipsy Danger. Are you alright?”
There's someone in bed beside him and that, more than anything, snaps him out of the clutches of his nightmare, has him turning his head to stare at the woman beside him with wide, scared eyes.
Hercules. This is Gipsy Danger. Are you alright?
He can't— This can't be happening. He lost everyone already, surely life wouldn't be so cruel as to dangle what he had to say goodbye to in front of his face like this.
But she doesn't waver, doesn't melt away into the darkness, just stays there with her hand on his shoulder and finally, finally, the events of yesterday come crashing back into him.
"Oh," he breathes, his eyes closing as he tries to get his breathing back under control, a few hopeless tears slipping down his temples to get lost in graying hair. "I didn't dream you."
"No," she murmurs, reaching to pull him flush against her. "You didn't dream me. I'm here. Right here, Hercules."
Gipsy doesn't let go of him and she squeezes gently before she carefully turns him in her arms so that he's facing her. She's not great at this - never has been, honestly. All she knows to do is hold him and gently kiss him, soft, tender little things up remind him she's actually here.
"Oh," he breathes again, shaking a little as she pulls him into her arms. His eyes are wounded beneath the tears, a pained expression on his face which he hides against her because even now, even with as old as he is and with as much as he's seen, crying feels like an unacceptable weakness.
He can't stop shaking though, his eyes leaking fresh tears as he clings to her.
She tenderly kisses his forehead, then allows him to bury his head into her neck. His pain breaks her heart, and while logically she knows that nothing she can say or do will fix it, she cannot help but desperately want to.
Gipsy was a robot, the ability to download her consciousness into any other kind of body had been a possibility. But that wasn’t something that was known at the time she’d self destructed – she hadn’t known Tendo had been backing her up, saving all of her memory files for reconstruction at a later date. Perhaps if she had, she could have afforded Hercules some sort of reassurance that she would be back, one day – in some way.
But his son…that is a loss that cannot be found again. There is nothing Gipsy can do to completely heal that gaping hole in his heart, as much as she wants to. So instead of trying, she lets him cry against her and brushes away his tears when they drip onto her bare skin.
“It’s alright,” she says, voice quiet. It’s alright to cry, Hercules. I am here. Let it go.
He relives the final battle almost every night. Sometimes he's in the cockpit with Stacker and Chuck, sometimes he's out in the ocean watching them explode, sometimes he's stuck right where he really was, safe inside the Shatterdome, listening to his whole world fall apart around him.
He doesn't want to keep crying, doesn't want to be weak and useless like he was back then, but Gipsy is warm and solid against him, and the relief of having someone to turn to outweighs the embarrassment of breaking down in front of an audience.
"I'm so sorry," he gasps, his fingers dimpling her skin.
Gipsy holds him tightly to her, refusing to let him go. Her own cheeks are wet with her tears, but her shoulders stay steady and there’s no hiccupping sobs or sniffles coming from her. She’s a rock for him, something to cling to in the tumultuous, stormy sea of his emotions. She’s a life raft for him to hold, a beacon of hope in an otherwise bleak and dimly lit existence.
“Shh,” she murmurs, lips pressing against his temple. Don’t apologize, love. "Don't do that." Don't blame yourself. It isn't your fault.
She wishes that there was still a direct link between them so that she could show him that she didn't blame him, that she wasn't angry. It's frustrating to have to vocalize these things - and it's a slow learning process for her.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 03:16 pm (UTC)He's not really a sleep-talker, but that doesn't stop him from making noise: a whimper, a gasp, a muffled no again.
For a little while, he's utterly still but then, with a full-body jerk, he's awake, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, heaving in great lungfuls of air as he stares blankly at the wall beside him, every muscle in his body tense like he's bracing for a punch.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 03:26 pm (UTC)She continues this motion until he jerks awake and her hands move to give him a steady presence on his shoulders, her voice soft.
“Hercules. This is Gipsy Danger. Are you alright?”
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 03:34 pm (UTC)Hercules. This is Gipsy Danger. Are you alright?
He can't— This can't be happening. He lost everyone already, surely life wouldn't be so cruel as to dangle what he had to say goodbye to in front of his face like this.
But she doesn't waver, doesn't melt away into the darkness, just stays there with her hand on his shoulder and finally, finally, the events of yesterday come crashing back into him.
"Oh," he breathes, his eyes closing as he tries to get his breathing back under control, a few hopeless tears slipping down his temples to get lost in graying hair. "I didn't dream you."
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 03:49 pm (UTC)Gipsy doesn't let go of him and she squeezes gently before she carefully turns him in her arms so that he's facing her. She's not great at this - never has been, honestly. All she knows to do is hold him and gently kiss him, soft, tender little things up remind him she's actually here.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 04:15 pm (UTC)He can't stop shaking though, his eyes leaking fresh tears as he clings to her.
"Oh god, Gipsy..."
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 04:28 pm (UTC)Gipsy was a robot, the ability to download her consciousness into any other kind of body had been a possibility. But that wasn’t something that was known at the time she’d self destructed – she hadn’t known Tendo had been backing her up, saving all of her memory files for reconstruction at a later date. Perhaps if she had, she could have afforded Hercules some sort of reassurance that she would be back, one day – in some way.
But his son…that is a loss that cannot be found again. There is nothing Gipsy can do to completely heal that gaping hole in his heart, as much as she wants to. So instead of trying, she lets him cry against her and brushes away his tears when they drip onto her bare skin.
“It’s alright,” she says, voice quiet. It’s alright to cry, Hercules. I am here. Let it go.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 04:56 pm (UTC)He doesn't want to keep crying, doesn't want to be weak and useless like he was back then, but Gipsy is warm and solid against him, and the relief of having someone to turn to outweighs the embarrassment of breaking down in front of an audience.
"I'm so sorry," he gasps, his fingers dimpling her skin.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 05:04 pm (UTC)“Shh,” she murmurs, lips pressing against his temple. Don’t apologize, love. "Don't do that." Don't blame yourself. It isn't your fault.
She wishes that there was still a direct link between them so that she could show him that she didn't blame him, that she wasn't angry. It's frustrating to have to vocalize these things - and it's a slow learning process for her.