2019-07-21 - More Questions Than Answers

When Ignacio emerges from the bathroom, Finch is waiting for him in the hallway, where she sits on the floor with her back to the wall and knees drawn up. Her pet rat, Mags, is on top of her knees, looking adorable in a little blue tulle dress that matches her person’s hair. Finch is still in the same yoga pants and tee combo she was at breakfast.

Ignacio steps out, dried of and damp in his jeans and t-shirt he brought in there. His eyes find Finch and move immediately to Mags. He reaches out and holds out a finger to her, the entire wall that feels like it's been holding back a deluge abated with the shower and fixing his hangover to what extent it will. He says to the mouse, "Eeeh I'd let you chew on me but I taste like Irish Spring." The rat sniffs at his finger and makes a mumbles squeak as she rediscovers his digit. "Yeah, I know I'm not Irish it's the soap. I didn't name it." She turns around on Finch's knee and he sighs, "Eeeveryone's a critic."

“You ok?” Finch asks him in a quiet tone, concern in those large, dark eyes of hers. Mags skitters up her arm to nestle on her shoulder under her hair where it’s warm and doesn’t smell of Irish Spring.

Ignacio watches her instead of answering and looks around curious, "They take off?" He looks back to Finch asking with an earnest curiosity, "How's your headache doing? I stole two of your aspirin, but it's better than the alternative right now. Want me to grab you one?"

”I’m fine, boss took care of it,” Finch replies as she slides herself back up the wall, keeping her eyes on him. “What set you off? He was just trying to smooth things over between you and Itzy.”

A slightly scarred hand rubs his face and Ignacio shakes his head, "Just... under a lot of stress since I got here. Just... dream kinda messed me up. Chalk it up to that. We're not-" He draws in a sharp breath to still any rebuttal that seems to come up and holding onto his calm assures, "I've known Itzhak for like... ears ya know. Kinda take exception when people tell me what I can and can't do when I already can't do a damn fuckin thing ya know?" His head shakes and asks, "How long ya been sitting there?"

“A while,” Finch admits. She folds her arms over her chest and rests back against the wall, one slippered foot up on it. “Well, from an outsider perspective, it looked like the two of you were about to trash Gran’s kitchen, so I understand why he did it.”

Ignacio watches her and after a long moment wears regret on his face rubbing the side of his nose with his thumb, eyes looking away. "Wouldn't do that to your kitchen... Outside prolly." Looking back and then eyes down he murmurs, "Sorry. Sometimes we got to get to that point just to admit shit's going on. In the old neighborhood it was like that a lot."

Finch makes a quiet noise. “We got enough shit trying to beat the hell out of us here. Don’t need to do it to ourselves, ya know?” So not a New Yorker. She reaches out a hand to set on his arm. “We need you both focused.”

Ignacio makes a face and with a hand to the wall slides to a sit beside her, arm resting atop bent knee. She's not wrong really. The words alone serve as a reminder: Being calm is not necessarily being focused. His head rests against the hall wall and he sits quiet for a while. It's Gray-Harbor, no one is okay. He murmurs, "I said I'm sorry. Lo siento." Eyes shut in the hallway and finally he admits, "No I'm not okay. I'm not a sociopath. Some big scary asshole wants to kill you. Some clandestine organization is gas lighting a friend of mine and trying to use them as a science project. People are still missing. People have fucking jedi powers. People are telling me I'm one of them and didn't hallucinate the worst fucking event of my life that keeps playing over and over and over when I try to sleep, which means all the bullshit up until now is...real." His head wobbles where it rests and a faint lopsided, tired grin slowly follows. "I'd say maybe we're all pretty fucking far from okay, but...don't mean the company's bad."

Finch kneels in front of him and rests her folded arms on his knees, her chin atop them. “You haven’t said much about that. The event. I’m here if and when you want to talk about it, Ig. You know all my baggage. And you’re still here somehow.” She quirks a small smile at that. “You are, aren’t you? I mean, if last night was a mistake I get it but...”

Ignacio rubs his forehead with his fingers but stops as her voice trails off. One eye pops open and then the other as he shakes his head, "Nah, we're cool. I mean from where I stand... sit... lounge artfully in this hallway." The offer's still there and his jaw tightens. "It was after Raf and dad had their fight. He left. Felt like shit ya know. Es mi hermano, my best friend and it was just... war in the house. So Spring break we went down there, couple friends and my ex, and we're goin down to Myrtle Beach because... we needed to fuckin get away." He looks to her to see if any of this makes any fucking sense in the slightest.

Finch maintains her position, so she can look him in the eyes as he talks about what happened to him. He sort of glosses over what happened last night, but she expected that, what with her possible destiny to go all murder hobo on her family and such. She nods as she listens, encouraging him to continue. Mags slips from her shoulder to run down her arm, to his leg, and up to his shoulder. Irish Spring can suck it.

Ignacio glosses over everything. It makes everything in the world less weird in case of calamity! Deep breath, "Soooooo we swing though Baltimore. We had to stop and thought hey, look at some cool shit goin down the coast. There was the one place we passed; this old... turn of the century asylum-" His finger draws a circle back in the air where it hangs, "Last century not this one." No shit, man. It's difficult and he buys time with bad humor as is pretty much standard. "It, um,...yeah it was a bad idea."

He swallows and some of the blood drains from his face though he fights to remain completely chill about it. "That's the first time the nightmare took us. It was... living insanity of these things peeling from the shadows, the lights going out and...everything became rotted and fetid. These things lashed out at us and I remember this hail of giant mosquitoes with noses like knives... " He stops talking all together. Full stop. He stares at an unfixed location somewhere through her hand.

"We... didn't all come back. My ex was killed. My friend ...never made it out. He's still in here...somewhere." The words read flat being pushed out by choice alone. "Had a tear in my leg and... I tried to heal it." His eyes pick up to meet hers, and while his expression is still his eyes water and run. "I... blew you... my whole damn leg. Like a chain reaction- whole fucking thing just fragmented, a-and I remember... things jutting out at the wrong angles. I woke...up in the hospital days later." Jaw trembling he says in as clear a voice as he can, "I can't watch that happen again, Finch. And it's all... happening again."

Finch slides over beside him and wraps her arms around him tightly. “No, no it’s not. Because I’m not your ex, and your friends here are not normal people either. We have the ability to fight back. And we can heal, and protect one another. You’re not alone, Ig. I’m not going to let you be alone.”

Ignacio leans, not proud and would rest his head to her shoulder but there's a rat in his face poking his nose with hers. "I- hi Mags." He chokes the words and lets her be right for a while. Finch, not Mags. Mages is never wrong . "I wish I was more useful to you guys. I got pancakes and pithy comments and I don't think either's deterring Skeletor to be honest." He slumps to her shoulder and removes Mags to hold onto. "Not for lack of tryin." There's a silence and there's some word hunting happening before he opts for honesty which may leave hives later. "I'm scared too. I know it doesn't seem like i'm takin this shit seriously but I... I dunno what else to do."

“If you weren’t deterring him, Ig, he wouldn’t have bothered to send you a nightmare, now would he?” Finch points out. She strokes his hair gently and sighs softly. “We’re all scared. Every last one of us. But we’re a team. And we’re going to get through this as a team. Skeletor can fuck right off.”

Ignacio lets it happen taking the words to heart and focusing mostly on Mags because that's easiest. '"I'm afraid i'm gonna let you guys down. " But there's nothing more to say on it that she doesn't already know. "Finch?" He shakes his head giving her arm a squeeze with his non-beratted hand. "Wasn't a mistake." Taking a deep breath he considers, "Hey, maybe I can help you find more people who know about this stuff. It's a start,and I'll be honest I dunno where else to begin with any of this."

“You can do a lot, you just don’t realize it. People like you, they gravitate to you. You have the ability to make them want to fight with and for you. We need that. The rest of us are not exactly the most social of butterflies. You can learn things no one would rightly tell the rest of us,” Finch explains softly. And she smiles at him. “No, it wasn’t a mistake. We should probably have a chat about just what it was, but we don’t need to do that right now.”

Ignacio sighs and sits up admitting, "Yeah and I also make a lot of calls without thinking them through leaving people worse off." He squints, "Forethought and sobriety, I'll be honest? Not my strong suits." He considers the rest and shakes his head smooching the rat. "I like people though. And you Mags. You can hang. Also, I hate to bring it up in front of the guys but there miiiight be a bigger problem than Skeletor kicking around. I just haven't... wanted to freak em out. but I mean all around we need some answers on that's happening between the walls." He pauses eyebrows hitching looking at her curious but nodding, "You don't like the Schordinger's conversation option? Yeaaaaaah we can chat." Still a smartass.

“You react with your heart, and I won’t ever think that is a bad thing, Ig. We have the boss to react with his head. The head the heart and the hands. Itzhak can bring down a roof, and I can light things on fire. But we need direction, and that’s what you and Roen give us.” Finch puts a hand on his cheek and smiles at him with a gentle expression. Mags squeaks happily at being smooched. She leaves the Schrodinger’s conversation be for now.

Ignacio murmurs, "Well I'm a cook. I gotta. Gotta be passionate about shit or things just turn..on... meh." He blinks and shakes his head shuffing off the confusion of that. Looking back to her he observes, "Sometimes a good meal is the only hing right in the day, but it's enough to deal with the rest. It's important. Pops taught me that when I was a kid. I think..." His head rests against the wall letting his hands keep Mags from running away, but not pulling away from Finch in the process, "I think... my dad is proof that being an asshole doesn't always mean you're always wrong. Sometimes...people's just funny about stuff. I'm made at em... but I miss em... when he's not a dick." Yeah whatever he took is kicking in leaving his thoughts fluid and rambling. The truh sucks; it's why he avoids it. "Finch... did I say something to Roen? I can't tell if he's pissed at me or not."

“I don’t think he’s pissed. I think he’s just worried. You and Itzhak are like,” Finch ponders how to put it, “...from another tribe with different customs that we don’t quite understand yet.” She pushes his hair off his forehead. Come on. Let’s go take a nap. We definitely didn’t get enough sleep last night.” She rises and offers him a hand.

Ignacio reaches up to take her hand considering the result of the question and pulling himself to his feet trusting her to be strong enough to peel him off the floor. He pulls the rat up too letting her run around on his shoulder. She isn't wrong. "Yeah. A nap without my ear pressed into the floor'd be kinda good." He stops and throws out the caveat, "IF Skeletor or his goons show up though I'll talk em down you blast em. Rocket and Winter Soldier style. Flamethrow turret mode. Just tell me where to point you. Deal?"

Finch leads him to her room to curl up together. "Deal."