Location: Serval Industries - Labs --> Rooftop
Skills:
Bobbi ignored Belladonna. Stupid little girl. What the fuck did she know? She was right, she hadn't been here. She had no part to play in this little scene. She should go off and play with her dollies and swords or something. Bobbi was having trouble thinking straight and seeing was increasingly difficult with the tears that were coming into her eyes. She was kneeling beside the Witch, wondering what she should do. She wanted to wrap her hands around Watts' neck. The Witch's neck. Someone needed to pay. Watts seemed to agree.
If looks could have killed, the glare she shot over her shoulder at the man would have knocked him dead in an instant. She made a hissing sound with her tongue in her teeth while she trembled with her grief and rage.
"Don't you think I already fucking know that?" she screamed at him. But the fight was over. Watts had sped her out of the room, leaving her feeling a bit nauseous and dizzy. Bobbi didn't wait to see if the others were sped out as well. She took off running, forgetting her hammer was left in the lab.
Her feet had taken her down this path hundreds of times. During the day. In the night. She didn't think, just cried and ran. She slowed as she came to the roof access door and walked out into the failing light. Now that she was here, her gait became a wobbly walk - ask if she had drunk to excess. The dirty, gravel and tar lining crunched beneath her shoes. She made it to the edge of the roof as the wind scooped up and twirled her hair about her head. The bitter cold of the night air chilled her and chapped her cheeks. Leaning over the edge she looked down on the city life that whirred on around her while her tears made the descent from her face to the ground far below. It marred her make-up, smudging her face.
Bobbi climbed onto the edge and sat down, her feet dangling. She leaned back and brought her face to the starry night sky and let out a howling scream of rage. Of sadness. Of tiredness. She brought her face to her hands and sobbed uncontrollably. She hardly knew the guy. She had made no effort to get to know him. He had been a nice enough person though. He hadn't deserved it. Watts was right. It would have been better if it had been her. Everyone here would be happier. She wouldn't have to deal with the tumultuous emotions that were ripping her apart and fraying the seams of her psyche. Everyone would have their stupid, silly uncle-like dork of a friend. And no one would have to put up with Druggy Mac-hot-mess-enstein.
After a while, her sobs abated and she dug through her pants pockets to find her mangled pack of cigarettes and a zippo lighter. It took her a few tries because her hands were shaking so badly and the cold of the air had numbed her fingers. She inhaled the sweet smoke deeply and blew it out with a slow, shaky breath. The tears threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes again she quickly swiped the back of her hand over her them.
Location: Serval Industries - Lab --> Imprisonment Area
Skills:
Wes nodded at Gardner's statement. They had barely started and already a vacation was recommended. They had just lost someone after all. He wondered if there would be a funeral. He scrubbed a hand over his face and went to help Bobbi with Wanda. He easily hefted her into his arms before he was ushered out of the door by Watts at top speed. He was in the hall just in time to see Bobbi's feet disappear around a corner. This left Wes with their enemy.
"I'll go put her away then," he said to the others and gestured with his chin to the comatose woman he carried.
A quick adjustment and he held her more stably against his chest, almost in a bridal position. Without looking back he carried Wanda down the halls until he reached the confinement chambers. He set up a cell for her, making sure she would have the things she needed to keep her comfortable - pillows, blankets, water. He also set about properly caring for her bruises and cuts. He cleaned and bandaged her and kept cool compresses to the particularly nasty bruises on her face.
The slow actions gave him time to think things through. He had been late. He hadn't gotten there in time. He had stalled, stayed behind. Torn between protecting the guests, getting more information out of Gardner, and going directly to the scene of the crime. This woman that he cared for with gentle hands had been the downfall of his teammate. Well, he still didn't have the whole story. Perhaps she was not completely at fault. Just because she was the enemy did not mean she had necessarily acted with such evil.
He brushed her tangled red hair from her face. No. The person he truly blamed for this situation was Gardner herself. There was something so completely off about this. He needed more information on that woman. He would get proper revenge for Andrew. A good, lawful sort of revenge. Droplets of water fell onto the Witch's face. Wes' eyes widened and he looked up, expecting to see a leak. Instead, tears rolled down his cheeks. He hastily wiped them away and then cleaned them from the Witch's face. He would be sure to get this woman's side of the story too.
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