Work Text:
It's been... wow. A lot. That's what it's been- a whole fucking lot. At least the opportunity to curse helps to alleviate the past nightmare, or Pomni's telling herself that for an attempted sliver of comfort.
Not that it's helping the pain. Now the rush has fizzled out like a burnt out sparkler, Pomni's body hurts. Cartoon logic hasn't eased up the bite marks- or the sensation of Caine's large hands pressing roughly against her, or his glitched out screech of a voice still ringing in her ears. Her body is trembling.
Everyone is looking- and feeling, probably- as shit as her. Except Kinger, maybe. Then again, he did announce he killed Caine, so he probably has that weighing on him. Not that anyone will think he should feel guilt for that. Can you kill something that's a machine and not really alive? Pomni doesn't know, and she's too tired to think about all the layers to that particular topic.
Although... Caine being dead. That's going to have consequences. Hopefully, that'll be a delayed response, so everyone can actually process everything that's already happened.
Pain pinpricks along her limbs. Everyone's focused on each-other, because they're all a mess and nobody actually wants to deal with the processing stuff right now, hence the hope for absolute nothing else happening so they can all just breathe.
Pomni accesses the current scenario.
Gangle is putting Zooble back together, slow and shaky, but there. Kinger is kneeling near Ragatha, hands held out for her. Everyone taking care of one another. Good... that's good. Except...
Where's - ?
Movement catches her eye. A tall figure that's hunched over, but beckoning her over with a familiar gloved hand.
Pomni blinks, twisting her head round to look better. "Jax...?"
The partially obscured figure is certainly Jax-height, but...
"Oh, God, Jax!" she exclaims, approaching.
He's holding himself stiffly, watching her every movement, as if ready to bolt. Like he regrets catching her attention. Loose, purple skin hanging off his shoulders, exposing a yellow body underneath, and fists clenched so, so tight.
The sight is strange. Unsettling. There's a twinge of something unidentifiable in her chest.
"Are.. uhm... you okay?" Pomni winces at possibly the stupidest question ever uttered.
Despite having considerably less expression in this current state, the beady black eyes are gazing back incredulously. Angry.
But scared.
Nobody is really paying them much attention, which Pomni suspects is exactly what Jax wants and needs. And, to be honest, so does she. She's had enough unwanted attention for today. She flickers her gaze to a spot behind him.
They don't speak for a moment, one that stretches uncomfortably long. Can Jax even speak like this? No way he would willingly not talk. She doesn't know what to say in return and she's too tired to fight with him over pointless shit. Or say something that makes him shut everyone away.
"Sorry." Pomni mumbles, rubbing her arms. Eyes begin to sting at the spike of pain; from the frustration and stress. Now everything's stopped, exhaustion has hit like a train and finds her legs no longer willing to cooperate.
Jax hisses softly, darting forward. He hooks his arms under her armpits, awkwardly lowering her to a kneeling position. He mirrors the pose, fists bunching up the fabric of his overalls.
"Thanks..." she says, eyes downcast.
Silence again. She doesn't like this.
"Does that..." she gestures vaguely. "... hurt?"
Jax shrugs. He points at the wounds of her arms.
"It- I..." Pomni's so tired. "... yeah. I'll be-"
A hand covers her mouth, a gesture that almost manages to spark up her indignance. But the spark immediately splutters out when he lowers his hand so he can start ripping his overalls.
"What are you-?" Eyes widening.
A finger presses to her lips this time. She's going to bite his hand if he does that again, but her curiosity keeps her still.
He tears off the fabric up one of the legs. It tears easily, like paper. Cartoon logic, Pomni supposes.
Then, he takes her arm and winds the fabric around it. Making huffy sounds, when she flinches from the sting, trying to keep her still and wrap the long strips. He does it for her other arm, too. Rinse, repeat.
What a strange situation. Pomni tries to focus on that, otherwise she's stuck focusing on the hurt.
Jax being... sweet? That's a new one. And definitely not a word one would associate with him. Not exactly docile and charming- he yanks back when she instinctively flinches away and she can hear that endless string of cussing going on in his head, because she's not making this smooth sailing. The bandages are wonky and restricting her movement, but it's probably better than them being exposed.
He probably hates that he can't speak. Unable to snap at her to stop moving otherwise he won't help. Something like that. The others' will see this as a damn miracle- an improvement. Pomni isn't sure she shares that sentiment, even if she gets it.
Jax silently moves down to her legs, coaxing her to sit, instead of kneel. The movement makes her hiss from the sheer discomfort. Why the hell does it still hurt? Caine isn't here to do anything anymore. Is it even real? Everything is-
"F-fuck-!"
She jerks her leg away, nearly kicking Jax in the face. He pins her leg down, staring at her. She doesn't want to think about what he definitely wants to yell at her.
"S-sorry-!" Words get hitched in her throat, blocked by the lump forming there. Shit, her vision is blurring. Wetness running down her cheeks.
Jax is staring at her, hands hovering awkwardly.
"Sorry," she repeats, sounding as pathetic as she feels. "Today's just been..."
She tries to swallow it down. The tears; all the shitty emotions building up, she could do without them all right now. Fails impressively.
"... it's been such a shit day."
The dam breaks.
She knows everyone else is watching, that Jax would probably hate it, because that type of attention with his current appearance is that last thing he needs. And she doesn't want it, either. It hurts. Her arms, her legs. The whole entire Everything of all of this bullshit. It's too goddamn much and-
- something soft presses just under one of her eyes. She blinks blearily, confused.
Jax's fingers. Clumsily wiping away her tears. He shifts around a little from how he's sitting, as if to get more comfortable. He clutches her face, so he can angle his thumbs under her eyes to wipe away the tears a little easier. Pomni sags heavily in his hold.
It's hard to read what he's thinking. No leering grins, snarky tones. Nothing. Just a blank face and a pair of hands working overtime.
The tears subside for the most part. Her breathing is shaky, and she's acutely aware that the others definitely heard and saw and are still seeing, but they're at a careful distance.
"S-sorry..." she says for the third time, followed by a hiccup. "I- I can probably finish the rest of- of my legs and you can-"
Jax shakes his head. After a moment of trusting she's not going to start bawling again, he resumes his previous task.
Pomni tries to not flinch as much, nor cry. But through the foggy mess of her mind, she notes that he's being considerably more gentle with wrapping the fabric this time.
Why is he doing this? She wonders. Is it out of obligation? Guilt? An apology of sorts? She may never know, but she's not sure if she needs that answer.
Eventually, he's done. Sits back on his heels. His overalls are shredded at the legs, running up past his knees.
"N- nice clothes." Pomni hiccups attempting to joke. Attempt at normalcy. "That the summer look?"
He doesn't- or can't- laugh, but his shoulders visibly relax. She takes it as a positive.
As he moves to stand, she quickly grabs his wrist.
"Hey, uhm-" she takes a steadying breath. "Thank you. And... can I-"
Jax looks at her with surprising amounts of patience. He doesn't pull his wrist away.
Pomni hovers her free hand over the loose skin pooling at his elbows. "Can I help you with this...?"
Despite the blank facial features, she can tell he's taken aback by the offer. Did he expect her to leave him alone to deal with his own shit? Does he think she prefers the lack of voice?
"Let me help." She says, tone more definitive.
He lets her. She doesn't voice her surprise, simply pulling the skin up his arms.
"If it hurts, you can shove me off." She adds, lightly. "I'll understand."
She can feel his discomfort- fingers tapping against his legs, restlessly- but it doesn't seem to be from any type of physical pain. She doesn't know what his deal is, but she supposes that this situation- having someone pull your skin back on- is very... unconventional.
Huh.
"I won't laugh, you know that, right?"
It's a redundant statement at this point- Pomni's been looking at his naked form without so much of a snicker about it, but it feels like it matters to state it. Jax gives no response to it, letting Pomni carefully pulls the skin over his head, wincing slightly. She can't begin to imagine how weird this feels. The skin is stretched slightly, as if it had been harshly pulled off. She tries her best to smooth it out around his eyes and mouth.
"There." She says. "It's- uhm... not perfect, but..."
"S'fine."
She trails off at his interruption. She never thought she'd miss that stupid voice.
"You okay?" She asks.
He grimaces, looking away. "Ask me later. Are you okay?"
"Ask me later." She echoes. Then, "hey, Jax..."
"What now?" Jax grumbles.
He sounds annoyed, but she knows him well enough to hear the lack of bite.
"I really, really could do with a hug."
This makes him freeze, but it lasts a fraction of a second, before he's shuffling into her space, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Cheek presses against her jester hat, with a long heavy sigh. Her own arms wrap around his middle, the slight pain numbed by his shoddy handiwork. She buries her face against his chest.
"Yeah," Jax mutters above her. "me too."