Long Way Down [Jesse Faden & Zachariah Trench]
Drowsy, Jesse sees an extensive desert at her side of the window; the wasteland of mountains and wire posts with no light, moonlight barely giving any signs of guidance, reminds her of Ordinary.
Noises alert her. The man comes from a shiny convenience store, bringing a bottle of water and cereal bars for what could be a trip. A trip. Polaris focuses on the pin of his suit as he removes his coat and, without hesitation—he should be careful—he covers Jesse despite how she automatically squirms away from him. Everything forces the question.
“We’re… going to the House…?” She voices out, more slurred than she wished. Forehead and throat eyes open narrowly, and her dirty sweater itches the remaining ones to awaken. “I… I don’t wanna go there.”
Trench locks the doors. His gaze is stern but he is not like them, apparently. Polaris recalls previous agents she has prevented and escaped from, abstract memories passing and blending and becoming a slippery warning inside Jesse’s head. It makes her dizzy; fingers trembling and visions tilting towards its edges, slackening her intentions.
“I know you don’t.” Trench touches her forearm with a wounded hand, suggesting he accidentally may have met the fangs on her collarbone—or she has bit him unconsciously. Jesse weakly chuckles and he ignores it. “But there’s no other place for you in this world.”
“You think you… you think you know me.”
“Yes, I do.” And Zachariah has something off and unexplainable on his gaze that unnerves Polaris, something justifying everything. “Better get some rest, Jesse. You’ll be fine. I promise.”