directed: (lot215_0494)
Rip Hunter ([personal profile] directed) wrote in [community profile] entrancelogs 2017-11-08 09:31 pm (UTC)

[Curious until the end; Rip might expect Peggy to take advantage of this sudden showing, probably the closest Rip will get to cheer until the rooms are returned to normal and the event ends. Yet she sees fit to move his cup safely aside rather than refill it; equally, she opts not to nudge the box of pastry his way once more.

Perhaps it's in the name of that unspoken thing that's settled between them amongst all the forced confessions. Genuine gratitude, genuine acceptance.

But the question unasked is answered all the same. Peggy takes in the aroma of her tea, and in the same breath comments that Rip could choose to close his eyes, to doze once more, if only for a short while, if he can trust Peggy to stand guard.

If. If.

He thinks of a moment spent in the sun. A vision, a dream—a glimpse into death, wherein he had the opportunity to hold his wife and son one final time.

A memory, just like so many others. The same as the one on replay before them now, hidden only by a single locked door.]


I'm not sure I can manage it. [A quiet confession, and one of no ill-intent towards her. He wants to, and the temptation alone wouldn't exist with many. But even in moments of understanding, even after they have been dead and beyond his reach for years, some wounds remain unhealed.

His guilt unforgiven, even if Rip himself stands the only judge.]

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