missingthekeep | Homeplot: Border Crossing

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Homeplot: Border Crossing

It's a long damn time before they manage to get a moment to themselves. The ride to the border had been miserable, dealing with awkward explanations in between jibes and taunts from a man who seemed more enamoured with the idea of killing the two of them than the target of his mission, so much so that by the time they came across Romanova's car abandoned by the side of the road about twenty miles out, Sean had been ready to put a bullet between Creed's eyes and try his luck on his own with Meredith. Still, the prospect of wandering stranded through Soviet territory with no reason for being there, legal or otherwise, struck him as marginally more insane than playing along with all of this, so he reined in the impulse.

They almost snagged a minute alone at the guard station, but Wolverine had vetoed his request to stay with her in the back of the truck at the last second, leading to an argument that had ended with his taking her along as they ventured out. It had ended both far better and far worse than it could have; the guards had all been dead, which made things pretty easy for them, but the perpetrator had insisted on tagging along with them the rest of the way, and if there was one person he trusted less in all of this than Creed, it was Mystique. Any chance they'd have had to break away from the group to talk after that had been lost when their hostage and driver, Ivan, had made a break for it and needed to be chased down.

All in all, the idea of ditching the lot of them and getting as far as his scream will go is starting to look more and more appealing. Eventually, though, they get their chance.

They're stopped at a small village for supplies to get them the rest of the way to Minsk, where Ivan's informed them the Black Widow is heading. For an interrogator, he sure doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut. Stashing the truck behind a two-storey box of a building (the biggest one in the entire town), a discussion ensues about how to split everyone up to get everything they need. While splitting up at all strikes Sean as a truly terrible idea, given all the unknown factors in the group, it's exactly what he's been wishing for for hours, so he's not about to complain. It's another matter entirely to get them to agree to let he and Meredith go off on their own, but he's nothing if not persistent, and eventually, they strike off under the pretense of securing breakfast for everyone with a plan to meet back at the truck in half an hour.

Finally.

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Sean nods, tightening his hold on her minutely. "That's what I'm doin'," he says, trying to reassure himself just as much as her. He needs to have faith in his decisions and in his capabilities, or they'll both be lost, and hoping this is all just a dream isn't going to cut it if that comes to pass. "I know I been screwin' up a lot lately, but that... I cannae let that happen anymore. This is too... we're gettin' through this."

"We made it this far," Meredith says, shaking her head. "You're doing good. And you will stay on top of it. You just need to keep focused. Don't worry too much about me, I'll just follow your lead." This is his territory, after all, and she's more clueless than ever. At least, that's how she feels, useless and uncertain, but he's got them this far. "Mostly just by staying out of the way, of course."

"It'll only get harder from here on out," Sean says, but her words do go a long way toward placating him, upping his confidence. They're in a bind, all right, but it's not hopeless. Sighing, he knows that he should get up and get moving again, but he puts it off a little longer. "Ye understand where we're goin', right? Who they're after?"

Meredith nods, glancing away. "I understand," she says. It's something she's tried not to think about, the one thing made easier by the constant company. She has enough to worry about without adding that to the rest. Looking up again, she draws in a deep breath, gaze fixed on him for several seconds before she actually speaks again. "What happens? When you find her?"

Sean hesitates, mouth pressed into a thin line. He'd been expecting the question, maybe even actively seeking it out, but that doesn't make it any easier to answer.

"I'm nae sure," he says, staring straight ahead. What he came here for and what he wants are two very different things, especially now that he's a got an entirely different set of concerns to worry about. Then again, there's no way of predicting how he'll feel when he actually sees her again, how Meredith's presence might influence things. "I jus' don't know. Nae yet."

"Now might be a good time to start figuring that out," Meredith says, reaching up to cup his cheek, still watching him. It's a lot to handle for her; she can't imagine what he must be going through with this. Under all the concern, though, and the uncertainty is curiosity. With all the trouble the Widow's caused, intentional or accidental, she has to wonder what she's like firsthand and if she'll even get to find out. It only gets harder from here, he's said, and she believes it.

Right, because it's not as if he has anything else on his mind at the moment. That doesn't change how right she is, though, and Sean knows it. "What does it e'en matter?" he asks, eyes darting to the side as he hedges. "None o' this is real, anyway."

Maybe.

"It matters," Meredith says, brow raising a little, "and we don't know that it's not. We don't know how going home works. This could be it." She's not sure at all that it is, that he isn't right and this is just another stupid dream, but right now, the idea that, if anything goes wrong, she'll just wake up is too tempting to put much faith in.

Sean opens his mouth to reply to that more than once before anything actually comes out, and he nods slowly as he replies. "No, that's... ye're right. O' course ye're right." He pauses again, still searching for an answer that he just doesn't have yet. "I'll do what I need ta do."

"What you need to do." Meredith nods slowly, licking her lips. "Okay," she says. She's not sure what that means or if she likes the sound of it, and she wishes she were wrong, that he could say so and mean it, because this isn't where she wants to be the rest of her life. "It's probably just like before, you're right. I just... don't think we should take any chances yet."

"No, course nae," Sean agrees again, perhaps a little too quickly. While it's all too easy to see this as real as it pertains to her safety, his mind tries its damnedest to latch on to any out it sees with regards to himself, as counter-intuitive as that is. Suddenly, it's not the real-world consequences he's worried about anymore, though.

"Ye remember last year, when ye said ye'd still love me e'en if I-" he starts, cutting himself off in a hurry as lights splash through the front windows of the market. They pass quickly, but Sean's on his feet a second later to catch a glimpse of the passing vehicle.

"Military," he explains quickly, tossing her a sack so they can get what they came here for and get out. "We should be fine in here, but where'er they stop's liable ta be crawlin' with 'em right quick, we need ta get back to the truck. Grab whate'er ye can carry an' let's go."

It wasn't a blanket permission, Meredith's ready to say, though that doesn't change that she meant it, thinks she still does. He changes topic, though, and all she can do is get to her feet and hurry to fill up her bag with whatever's to hand, trying to hurry without letting her rush turn to panic. Staying calm is the best thing she can do with the situation they're in, no matter how difficult that is at times. He might have meant something else anyway, bringing that up. "Which way were they headed?" she asks, hoping it's in the opposite direction from them, though luck hasn't exactly been on their side thus far.

"To the center o' town, looked like, but we cannae take anythin' f'r granted," Sean says, quickly filling a bag of his own with bread and vegetables and cured meats, all laid out for daybreak, his eyes glued on the street outside. He feels rotten about it, stealing from people who obviously need whatever they can produce, but that's really the least of his concerns right now. "'Less there are more 'round the corner, we should have a straight shot back so long as we stay behind the buildings. Hopefully the others didnae dawdle like we did."

"And whose idea was it to dawdle?" Meredith asks lightly, heading for the door and waiting for him to join her. She's grateful for it, though, the few minutes they stole for themselves. It doesn't make all this better, but just having had a moment to breathe, to be with him, she feels more at ease, girded for whatever's ahead. "We'll be quick, we'll be fine, and I think the others can hold their own."

"At the end o' the day, they are professionals, whether ye agree wi' their methods or nae," Sean says, slinging the bag over his shoulder as he meets her at the back. Whether the same can be said of himself anymore, he's starting to wonder. "A'right, now nae a word 'til we're back at the truck. Follow me lead, stay low, an' stick to the shadows," he goes on, falling silent as he cracks open the door, makes sure the coast is clear, and ushers her out.

Meredith is distinctly aware what side of that argument she falls on, although she can't say they don't know what they're doing, if only because she doesn't know enough herself to have a leg to stand on. Arms wrapped around the sack, she slips out ahead of him, struck by how much she doesn't want to do this. It's easy in there to say they'll be fine, but as she makes her way down the path, keeping as much in the shadows as she can, she's also aware that, if anything happens, no one's going to care if she's a professional or not. The return to the truck, she can manage just fine, but she keeps glancing at him for confirmation even so.

It's all of two blocks to get back, but with occupied streets and the threat of imminent daybreak on them, it feels more like two miles. It's a quiet jaunt, though, interrupted only by the passage of a civilian out early, right up until the truck is in sight and the sound of automatic gunfire breaks the silence. Cursing under his breath, Sean pauses for a fraction of a second to let Meredith get ahead of him. "Run!" he hisses, glancing quickly back the way they came. It's still clear, and the shots came from far enough away that the truck should still be safe, but if they've been compromised, there's no more time to waste.

Stifling a gasp at the sound, Meredith ducks ahead of him, moving as fast as she can make herself go. It's been such a long day already and she's tired, afraid her footsteps are too loud or she'll drop her sack, that the soldiers will be on them next, that any of a dozen things she can't even imagine will go wrong. The sight of the truck comes as more of a relief than she would have imagined after the day they've had, but she looks back over her shoulder to make sure there hasn't been a change of plans. "What do we do?"

Sean can't answer that until he knows how the others are faring, so he keeps his mouth shut. They get to the truck just as Wolverine and Mystique do, the former looking none too pleased with the current turn of events. "What's going on out there?"

"Sabretooth and Fox went back for more fuel. Apparently they ran into resistance," Maverick replies, not moving from where he stands with a pistol trained on their pet from the KGB. Sean takes the opportunity to tell the others about the army rolling into town just as the sound of gunfire nearby seems to multiply, and Logan practically snarls in frustration.

"Cassidy, leave the skirt and get down there. We're not gettin' outta here without a scuffle, but I need you to try and make sure he doesn't kill anybody if he hasn't already." Not only does it strike Sean as wishful thinking, but it also poses a pretty severe problem.

"I'm nae leavin' her," he says, glancing over toward Meredith as if she'll actually be able to provide some sort of out.

What he expects her to say or do, Meredith doesn't know. They're unlikely to listen to her and she doesn't want to push it when she knows she's on thin ice with this crowd just by virtue of being here. "I'm okay," she says, focusing on Sean. She doesn't want him to leave her here — doesn't want him to go fight either, for that matter, not when she's not sure how much his throat can take now — but she's not sure what the alternative is. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me." Something else occurs to her then, though. "What do I do if someone comes over here?" She doesn't have a good reason to be here. Wherever she goes, she's just facing more trouble.

"Nothin', 'cause I'm nae leavin' ye here," Sean snaps, but it's an idle statement since he doesn't know what else to do. If he can't so much as help out when he's needed, they will have officially outlived their usefulness, and while he trusts Wolverine to not just try killing them outright, they'd almost certainly lose their ride out of here, which would have pretty much the same result in the long run.

"Look, I was willing to help you out, but you're not getting in the way of this op," Wolverine grits out, already leaving to do whatever it is he plans on doing about this, nothing but professional. The way that Sean should be thinking. "Take care o' things down there for a minute and your girl'll be fine, I got no time to stand around jawing. Raven, come on."

Sean just swears some more.

"He's right," Meredith says, quiet, though she wants him to stay anyway. It isn't feasible, not if she wants to get out of this place. She's terrified even so, doing her best to keep it out of her expression, drawn though it is. "I will be fine. We'll be in less trouble if you're fast and you're careful than if you stay here, you know that. It's that or I come with you." She'll chance it if she has to, but not knowing what to expect out there, she can only assume she'll be even more in the way where the fighting is, another thing for him to worry about.

"Nae an option," Sean says, shaking his head. Not when, for all he knows, Creed's out starting World War III just down the street. "God dammit."

Making potentially awful snap decisions is so much easier when he only has himself to worry about. Or people he's not in love with, terrible as that sounds.

"Stay in the truck," he finally says, gesturing roughly for her to move. It's been barely a minute since the gunfire broke out, but that's still far too much time already wasted. Pulling the gun out again, he hands it to her insistently. "An' take this. Keep the safety on. Lord knows it'll nae do much in case anyone makes it o'er here, but I'll nae let that happen an' it'll make me feel better, at any rate."

Meredith makes a noise of protest, but takes it anyway, if only for his sake, once she's in the truck. "I wouldn't know how to take the safety off anyway," she points out, smiling just a little. It fades a moment later as she leans toward him. "I'll stay put, I'll be fine. I'll be here when you get back." He will come back. He always has. That doesn't mean there won't be an exception one day, that they won't run out of time, but she won't think about that now. Not yet, at least. There are other things she wants to say, but they're in a rush and she doesn't want to hold him back. "Be safe."

"Ye jus' pull back that bit there," Sean points out, unsure why he's bothering to do so when he just told her not to do it. Just in case, he supposes. "Finger well away from the trigger 'less ye plan on pullin' it."

Exhaling sharply, he casts one last look around, as if some alternative to leaving her is going to suddenly manifest at the last second. For his part, Maverick just watches them, impassive as ever, and Sean knows better than to bother asking him to watch out for her, though he does wonder bitterly why he isn't the one about to risk his neck for a madman.

"Ye as well," he finally adds, casting a brief, pained look at Meredith before he takes off, not bothering with any manner of goodbye.

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