The Viper

Atlanta

Valentines body warms his chest as he clutches her close, one of the few indicators telling him that she was okay for now, along with the steady rise and fall to her chest. They pull into the nearest motel and Ghost parks haphazardly in a spot, shutting off the Jeep and jumping out. John doesn't hear the Captain barking orders at them, just that Gaz breaks away to head into the lobby as Ghost begins slamming doors open and shut, pulling out their things.

All the while he couldn't pull himself away from her, his eyes searching for the pulse that beat strongly against her neck. The cuts against her skin long but not deep, a pain to heal more than anything. Yet he knew that the ache constricting his chest would not ease until the beautiful starry reflection of her eyes looked at him once more.

The captain takes them through the motel and into their room, the silence between them left a ringing in his ears as they gather their things and get Valentine into the room. "Gaz, shower." He feels himself speak for the first time, he watches as his head jerks and drops the bags before turning right into the dingy, run-down bathroom.

John felt bile rise in his throat, she deserved better than this. Reluctantly, he sets her down in the shower, leaning her against the stained tiles. Her head thumps lightly against the wall and he reaches up, pulling the wig she wore off slowly - watching as her beautiful, natural hair fell from the knot it had been held in.

The skimpy clothing she wore rumpled and stained, from her blood or theirs he didnt know nor cared. Gaz leaves the room in search of something and in that time, John carefully cups Valentines full cheeks, soft skin smushes together and tickles the calloused and scarred skin on his hands.

He squeezes them together gently, cooing her name as softly as he could manage. Giving her warming skin a few taps as she mumbles and groans her way to consciousness.

The others fill the room slowly, watching her intently for any signs of harm or injury.

A line forms between her brows and blearily, her eyes blink open. Long blinks in-between short moments of her beautiful eyes peeking through. Her hand raises and rubs her eyes heavily, smearing the dark black makeup she had applied a few hours before. "Lass?" He asks, leaning forward on his knees to hold her wrist.

"Mm." Her chest heaves with the small motion, head falling back against the tile softly.

"I need to get you clean, to undress you, that okay? Can I turn on the water?" Her eyes slowly travel him until they meet his eyes, tired but trusting  as they then move to the water handle, then slowly back to him. Taking the slow blinks in his direction as a yes, he stands and slowly begins to pull the thin clothing from her until bare before him, then twists the nob. Thankfully the pressure isn't crushing as it sprays down onto her, already lifting some of the dried dirt and blood. She leans calmly against the tiles, head tilting up to let the water wash over her.

Gaz leans forward with a bar of soap. "C'mon love, lets get all this washed off ya." She doesn't move as he leans into the shower, stray droplets of water soaking his shirt. John watches as Gaz carefully glides the soap across her skin, watches as the dried blood softens and slips down through the drain.

Slowly, she wakes - movements sluggish but steady. Val allows Gaz to finish cleaning her before they work together to pull her out of the shower and help dry her. The Captain comes in moments later with a fresh pair of clothing for her - his own shirt on the very top.

John works with Gaz to dress her and assess her, no concussion - just damaged. They walk her to the room, sitting her down. "Lass, I need you to say something."