"Ulla had a bad reaction to something, I assume from the breach given the timing. Probably a connection with someone she couldn't handle." It's all guesses from what he knows of her. He'll find out more in a couple of days. He'll let Jacobi touch what he wants, put his own hands over to settle at his hips. Touch. Solidity. Steadying himself.
"She sang up a storm on deck, bad enough to pull up railing and throw things around. I happened to walk into it while I was heading up. I had to talk her down." His expression turns very cross for a moment, then he settles it, and Jacobi will know that is the 'I'm going to go talk to someone's supervisor' look where someone from another department fucked up. "Trevor decided to play the big stupid hero and threw a knife at her to try and stop the spell."
He breathes out.
"Given the winds and the debris, I caught it the only way I could. Given what I know Ulla's magic can do," ie ripping entire landmasses into being, "interrupting the song that way was the worst possible thing that could have happened." That's the tactical brain talking. The angry and defensive warden who loves her surfaces a moment later. "And I wasn't letting anyone hurt her."
That stone in his stomach disappears entirely at the story, leaving him feeling empty. Trevor. Ulla. Warren. Warren throwing himself in harm's way, for Ulla. For his inmate. Because of what? Because of a temper tantrum? Because of Trevor. He struggles to get it all settled in his mind.
He slowly withdraws his hand.
"Hey! What a great anniversary present for you!" he laughs and he knows that it will ring false. Doesn't matter; he's not trying to hide it. He takes a step back. "At least it healed up nice."
Warren's eyes are locked on him. Ring false? That actually made his chest clench up with how absolutely Not Goo that sounded. He doesn't follow. He just looks at Daniel.
"Talk about what? About how you put yourself in danger for what sounds like a tantrum? No, I really don't want to. I want to go check on my cupcakes. I mean, they were going to be a surprise for our anniversary, so it would be a damn shame if they burned. Besides, your surprise was so much better!"
"It wasn't a tantrum. It was" and he won't tell Daniel everything about Ulla, won't give up her confidence, won't share her secrets or her story. But it's simple enough for him to say- "It was the same thing that happened to you. When you programmed Connor."
He turns to look at him over his shoulder. "Oh, so you're going to ignore her for a week and put her in Zero? Tell her fix everything she broke or you're going to leave? Give her an impossible task and make her live up to it? Show her your immense disappointment? No. You won't."
"I'm giving her a couple of days in her room," he says quietly, "since there's no underwater cells in Zero. And I did, actually, insist that she fix everything she broke up on the deck. She's already started. I won't show her my immense disappointment? Because I knew this was coming. Any time now. And because her relationship with me. and your relationship with me. are not the same."
"It's not bullshit," he insists and kneels down in front of the oven. He takes an oven mitt and pulls the cupcakes out, setting them on top of the stove with a clatter that betrays his real feelings.
"You're just so quick to jump right in the middle, aren't you? And for what? For this? For something she did herself?"
He slams the oven mitt onto the counter. "Do you think I like seeing it every time? Do you think I just enjoyed seeing you throw yourself into it? Every time you took a bullet or shrapnel for me or Maxwell or yanked us back or any of it, do you think I liked it? Do you think I didn't want to say 'hey, this kills me a little bit?' Well, guess what, asshole, I can say it now. I can be angry at you now. I don't have to swallow it down and say 'welp, that's just the colonel, doing what he does best.'"
"So this is..." he considers it and looks down, arms crossed, as he tries to work out what to do.
"Do you need me to-" and he steps back out of the kitchen for the moment, into the living room. There's about a three minute pause before the sound of paws padding into the kitchen announces his return. That, and a sad dog noise as he puts his head down in doggy apology.
He glares down at the wolf, but everything's a little - softer. "These are chocolate!" He shakes his head, tempted to sit and run his fingers through fur, but he wants to be angry a while longer. "I'm so mad at you," he tells him. "And I hate her for this, Warren. I'm not singing to her anymore. She's just - one more thing that stands between you and your deal."
He picks up a ruined cupcake and watches it crumble in his fingers. "So she needs to learn how to read on her own."
He finally does sit down, leaning his head against the counter. "Happy anniversary. And two weeks after her birthday - what a joke."
There's a reason he's a wolf: it's so that he can't argue anything, so that he can't try to defend anything or anyone. Because that makes them on opposite sides. And he doesn't want to be on the opposite side of Jacobi right now.
Instead, he steps up, into Jacobi's lap and starts nuzzling against his shoulder and his neck and his jaw.
He hesitantly brings one arm around him, relinquishing some of his anger in the face of that unabashed affection.
"You're so heavy," he complains, but he's quiet for a long time after. "You treat her like Maxwell, you know. You were always like that with her. You don't hide it very well." Another long pause. "I really hate it."
That won't change, so in a way, it's a good thing he's on four legs when Jacobi says it. Because he doesn't have to deny it or try to make him feel better about it. It just is.
And it really just is.
He settles his whole weight on Jacobi and nuzzles up against his chest.
Jacobi is quiet, the weight of the wolf against him keeping him somewhat grounded. But he can't shake it. He can't shake that anger he feels burrowed deep in his chest, constricting each breath. The flippancy of his reaction would be enough on his own, but he can't even go to Tim.
The wolf pushes up, careful to push off of the floor to avoid pushing on Jacobi. He makes a soft noise and trots into the next room, the living room, and he'll hop onto the couch to curl into a ball.
Jacobi pauses as Warren jumps onto the couch. "Yeah, we're not doing this. If you're sleeping on the couch, then I'm just leaving to get trashed with Tim or Dorian."
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Look, I'm - I'm pissed at you, but you didn't do anything couch-worthy. You just did what you've always done."
He slips off his shirt. Jacobi's compartmentalized that before. He's seen him hurt so often and he's been able to keep it all stuffed away. So he can do it now.
"Ulla and Trevor can get fucked, though," he mutters.
He makes a slight noise, but it's hard to tell if it's agreement or frustration. Possibly both, given the two names listed. But he'll hop up into the bed and immediately cuddle up against Jacobi.
Jacobi takes a breath and holds him close, arms around him. "You know," he mutters, closing his eyes, "This right here, me spooning a big fucking wolf, is the reason why Tim calls me a furry."
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"She sang up a storm on deck, bad enough to pull up railing and throw things around. I happened to walk into it while I was heading up. I had to talk her down." His expression turns very cross for a moment, then he settles it, and Jacobi will know that is the 'I'm going to go talk to someone's supervisor' look where someone from another department fucked up. "Trevor decided to play the big stupid hero and threw a knife at her to try and stop the spell."
He breathes out.
"Given the winds and the debris, I caught it the only way I could. Given what I know Ulla's magic can do," ie ripping entire landmasses into being, "interrupting the song that way was the worst possible thing that could have happened." That's the tactical brain talking. The angry and defensive warden who loves her surfaces a moment later. "And I wasn't letting anyone hurt her."
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He slowly withdraws his hand.
"Hey! What a great anniversary present for you!" he laughs and he knows that it will ring false. Doesn't matter; he's not trying to hide it. He takes a step back. "At least it healed up nice."
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"Daniel. Talk to me, please."
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He turns to walk off.
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"It wasn't a tantrum. It was" and he won't tell Daniel everything about Ulla, won't give up her confidence, won't share her secrets or her story. But it's simple enough for him to say- "It was the same thing that happened to you. When you programmed Connor."
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He breathes out.
"What would you have wanted me to do, Daniel?"
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"That's bullshit. And you know that. So what is this?"
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"You're just so quick to jump right in the middle, aren't you? And for what? For this? For something she did herself?"
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"Do you need me to-" and he steps back out of the kitchen for the moment, into the living room. There's about a three minute pause before the sound of paws padding into the kitchen announces his return. That, and a sad dog noise as he puts his head down in doggy apology.
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He picks up a ruined cupcake and watches it crumble in his fingers. "So she needs to learn how to read on her own."
He finally does sit down, leaning his head against the counter. "Happy anniversary. And two weeks after her birthday - what a joke."
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Instead, he steps up, into Jacobi's lap and starts nuzzling against his shoulder and his neck and his jaw.
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"You're so heavy," he complains, but he's quiet for a long time after. "You treat her like Maxwell, you know. You were always like that with her. You don't hide it very well." Another long pause. "I really hate it."
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And it really just is.
He settles his whole weight on Jacobi and nuzzles up against his chest.
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He sniffs.
"I'm going to bed," he says eventually.
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He slips off his shirt. Jacobi's compartmentalized that before. He's seen him hurt so often and he's been able to keep it all stuffed away. So he can do it now.
"Ulla and Trevor can get fucked, though," he mutters.
He turns down the blankets and crawls into bed.
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