Us vs. the Apocalypse
Title: PR Nightmare
Word Count: 236
Crossposted: HERE at runaway-tales
Author's Note: This happens immediately after Dixon's decision to "triage" someone during a dispatch gone wrong.
It was quiet in the truck for the longest time, with only Avery's sniffling and the rumble of the engine to break the silence. I sat beside her, feeling useless, watching her cling to Keenan and cry into his shoulder like she had the moment she'd clambered down the scaffolding. I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy that she'd chosen him over me, but then again, after the incident at the hospital, it was a wonder she was even speaking to us.
"Hey, Avey-cakes," Mason said softly, turning his attention from the road momentarily to look back at her, reaching over the seat to skim his fingers across her shoulder. "Come on, babydoll, dispatchers don't cry."
"Leave her alone, Mase," Keenan said, pushing Mason's hand away. I only caught a brief glimpse of Mason's face in the dark, his stung expression, before he turned back to the road. "I think given the circumstances, we can ignore the PR bullshit for a while."
"But... wasn't about the PR," Mason defended. "Was just... trying to make her feel better, is all."
"We're going back to a building full of civilians," Dixon chimed in. "I'd say the public relations is still important."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Keenan barked out a sick laugh. "You just shot Eli's baby brother in the face, Dix, I think public relations have gone out the fucking window at this point."
Word Count: 236
Crossposted: HERE at runaway-tales
Author's Note: This happens immediately after Dixon's decision to "triage" someone during a dispatch gone wrong.
It was quiet in the truck for the longest time, with only Avery's sniffling and the rumble of the engine to break the silence. I sat beside her, feeling useless, watching her cling to Keenan and cry into his shoulder like she had the moment she'd clambered down the scaffolding. I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy that she'd chosen him over me, but then again, after the incident at the hospital, it was a wonder she was even speaking to us.
"Hey, Avey-cakes," Mason said softly, turning his attention from the road momentarily to look back at her, reaching over the seat to skim his fingers across her shoulder. "Come on, babydoll, dispatchers don't cry."
"Leave her alone, Mase," Keenan said, pushing Mason's hand away. I only caught a brief glimpse of Mason's face in the dark, his stung expression, before he turned back to the road. "I think given the circumstances, we can ignore the PR bullshit for a while."
"But... wasn't about the PR," Mason defended. "Was just... trying to make her feel better, is all."
"We're going back to a building full of civilians," Dixon chimed in. "I'd say the public relations is still important."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Keenan barked out a sick laugh. "You just shot Eli's baby brother in the face, Dix, I think public relations have gone out the fucking window at this point."