[ It does prove comforting to hear the words from him — in whatever form he can muster — because she knows, deep down, that he can see the strength that exists in her. Whatever she'd suffered through before, whatever treatment she'd been subjected to at the whims of terrible men, somehow, she hadn't given up.
These days, she feels like a far cry from the woman she'd been back then, someone who hadn't been able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Now, she knows she's capable of surviving awful things because she's already been through them. It doesn't make them any less easy to endure when they happen, but she can pride herself on being made of stronger stuff. What matters here, though, is that Bigby doesn't view her as a victim, doesn't handle her like she's something fragile. She wouldn't accept it if he tried.
In the moment, even once she realizes she's still holding his hand, and that he hasn't moved to pull away from her, she doesn't look down at their shared clasping — as if bringing attention to it might make it feel more significant somehow, beyond just attempting to offer comfort. ]
I know, but it doesn't change the fact that I am.
[ Her voice is still soft, but there's an insistence in it too — even if he would've readily protected her from experiencing this, neither of them is powerful enough to send her back home, and more than that, she's not sure she would be willing to return if it meant knowingly leaving him behind, either.
His words do elicit a half-smile from her, a quiet chuckle, and she finally uses her free hand to pat the top of the one she's still holding onto before slipping out of that clasp altogether. ]
Kind of feels like being partners again, doesn't it? Only instead of trying to solve a murder, we're trying to solve... whatever the hell this place is.
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These days, she feels like a far cry from the woman she'd been back then, someone who hadn't been able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Now, she knows she's capable of surviving awful things because she's already been through them. It doesn't make them any less easy to endure when they happen, but she can pride herself on being made of stronger stuff. What matters here, though, is that Bigby doesn't view her as a victim, doesn't handle her like she's something fragile. She wouldn't accept it if he tried.
In the moment, even once she realizes she's still holding his hand, and that he hasn't moved to pull away from her, she doesn't look down at their shared clasping — as if bringing attention to it might make it feel more significant somehow, beyond just attempting to offer comfort. ]
I know, but it doesn't change the fact that I am.
[ Her voice is still soft, but there's an insistence in it too — even if he would've readily protected her from experiencing this, neither of them is powerful enough to send her back home, and more than that, she's not sure she would be willing to return if it meant knowingly leaving him behind, either.
His words do elicit a half-smile from her, a quiet chuckle, and she finally uses her free hand to pat the top of the one she's still holding onto before slipping out of that clasp altogether. ]
Kind of feels like being partners again, doesn't it? Only instead of trying to solve a murder, we're trying to solve... whatever the hell this place is.