Neither of them seemed to be very good at admitting that they had done some good back there. Had the situation been less dire, Will probably would have either been amused or frustrated at the back and forth they kept getting into, brushing off their own actions and accomplishments and praising the other. And Will could tell Quin was not going to let this latest attempt of his pass without a similar fight. Suppose with how she'd fought and ran to get here, he shouldn't have expected her to just give up in an argument either, even if it was a good natured back and forth. "Guess I should be glad he didn't get my throwing arm then." Will joked back, giving a little humored scoff. "Y'got a good arm yourself. Guess it'd be javelin throwin' in your case though." Will teased back, recalling the makeshift weapon Quin had launched at the man wielding the bat.

And they talked about things that were less fun, but probably necessary. Taking stock of their injuries together. It was probably good to think about them, even if focusing on them made the hurt more obvious. Good to be as honest as possible in case things got bad again, and to make sure you were aware yourself of how bad you'd been hurt. As long as they were both being honest, it didn't seem like either of them were in mortal danger. A tiny laugh broke from his lips as he thought about how badly he both wanted, and didn't want a shower. How nice it'd be to get all the dust and dried and drying blood off of him, but how much the myriad of little nicks was going to sting when that happened. Silly. 

Finally, Quin acquiesced to his proposition, but peppered him with questions. It almost seemed like she was looking for an excuse to not accept the help, if it so much as inconvenienced him. Boy was she stubborn. Combined with how she'd fought in the cafe, throwing away her shield and completely burning herself out, he couldn't help but think her actions rang as self-sacrificial. Maybe Quin saw herself as something of a martyr? Thoughts and questions again for the overfull 'later' bucket. Besides, it was a bit hypocritical for him to judge -- wasn't as though he'd always made the soundest of decisions. 

Between his idle ponderings and trying to find the best words to use, Will hesitated as he thought about how to answer it all of Quin's questions exactly. It really wasn't the time to explain and complain that he'd been trying to get his abilities to work like that on himself for years. Eventually, as he wasn't able to find a good way to answer the first questions, Will decided to just ignore the first half and answer the second bit, since that part was easy. "Promise it's not gonna hurt me or anything." Will stated, giving what he'd hoped was a reassuring smile. "I haven't done this for a bit." Years. But half-truths seemed smarter here. "So might take a minute or two once I get started."

Quin had to smile a little when Will pointed out the little projectile she’d managed to send at the guy with the bat. There wasn’t much to argue with there, it had been pretty cool. And effective.

”It’s more like I pushed it.” she said, trying to put into words what it was like. ”I can feel where things like that are in space and I can make them go places.”

It was hard to explain, but she didn’t think she’d be allowed to participate in javelin. Quin also couldn’t push or move things very far, especially if they were heavy. ”If I can touch something, I can do a lot more.”

Will’s silence on the matter of whether or not he could help himself with the pain of their adventures was answer enough and Quin frowned slightly, ”That really sucks…” she said in response to the unspoken words.

At least helping her wouldn’t hurt him, Quin decided, far more comfortable with the idea. Will said it had been a while since he’d done something like this and the redhead wondered if he meant that it had been a while since he’d taken away pain or since he’d used his powers at all and she tilted her head slightly.

”That’s okay. What do you need me to do?”

Will listened as Quin explained a bit about what her powers were like, what she'd done with the weapon back at the cafe. The little hesitations, emphasis on words... It was a familiar cadence, not different from the way he would try to describe the way he could sense the myriad ways that he could tweak someone's senses when he opened up that part of his brain. It wasn't seeing, it wasn't feeling, not exactly at least. Frustrating, not having the right word. 

"It was dang cool though, watchin' you do your thing. Makin' a shield was smart. Movin' stuff without havin' to touch it seems super neat, too." Will complimented Quin's abilities and her actions in the cafe unabashedly as he tried to work up the nerve to try and help out with Quin's pain. 

As Quin caught onto the words he didn't say and muttered how it sucked he couldn't help himself the same way, Will gave a little laugh, though it lacked humor. "Yeah -- Haven't figure out how to turn my own senses down. Can be a lot, sometimes." Will admitted. Didn't seem much point in not admitting it, Quin picked up on the things he didn't say about as quickly as the ones he did -- and it was a bit cathartic, being able to actually talk to someone about it. Even if the situation was completely insane. Any bit of comfort seemed appealing right now, maybe that was all it was.

Quin asked him what she needed to do and Will nodded in response. Raising a hand he hesitated before reaching out and gently grabbing one of her wrists. "Sorry, gotta hold onto you for it to work..." Will said sheepishly, as though he hadn't been grabbing her hard enough to leave marks only minutes before. Without the adrenaline and excitement from the chase, it felt overly familiar touching someone he'd only known for... an hour? Time felt weird right now. It felt like moments but also a lifetime. "But, uh, just lemme know if things feel too weird." Will tried to chuckle, managing a single weak 'ha', before he continued. "Gonna be dulling your sense of touch, so... You might feel a little numb, might make you a bit clumsy. But things'll hurt less."  The effect would be more anesthetic than analgesic, but hopefully would allow Quin to breathe a little easier. If they had painkillers, he imagined they'd both be taking them, so this wasn't that different, really, was it?

For the second time today, and the second time in several years, Will reached out with his powers and Quin's sensory map stretched out in front of him like a tapestry. Unlike with Knives, he let this one linger, focused on it. As the link solidified, he could feel the faintest echoes of Quin's bruised ribs and the worst of the scratches from the fight. Just a hair more than sympathy pain and oddly distant, like feeling a blow through thick padding. Jeez -- that had to -smart- if he was getting feedback from it at all though. Will tentatively sifted through the cords and snarls and threads of Quin's sensory tapestry, focusing just on the ones that said 'touch'. Finding the first, he moved the thread out of it's natural place just enough, holding it there with a stitch of his own energy, so that it would hold it's new position, and moved onto the next. And then the next. 

Quin couldn’t help the light blush that worked its way up her face as Will complimented how she’d fought at the coffee shop. Sure, it was exactly why she trained the way she did, and why she’d worked with her powers so much…but it was a whole other thing to have someone point it out.

”It’s like I’m lifting things with my brain.” she blurted out a bit uncomfortably, to make sure that Will didn’t say anything else complimentary at the moment. ”I can feel it and lift it…it’s weird.”

As of yet, Will hadn’t figured out how to turn down his own senses, Quin had more questions. Was using his powers on her going to make his more intense? That would suck even more than it already was. Did it help to use his powers? Quin didn’t ask though, he clearly hadn’t really wanted to talk about it in the first place and she’d kind of butted in with her correct assumption.

Will reached out and grabbed her wrist again, far more gently this time, and Quin almost smiled at how funny the whole scenario was. They’d been holding on to each other for dear life just a few minutes before and now he felt the need to apologize for having to touch her so he could take away her pain. ”It’s okay…” she said, then nodded as Will told her to let him know if things got too weird. She’d maybe be a little numb? Clumsy was nothing new…and it really would be nice for things to hurt a little less.

She stopped talking then and let Will do his thing. At first nothing happened and he just kind of sat there staring down at where he was holding on to her arm. Slowly though, something started to change. Will had said that she might be a little numb but if that was the case, the relief that was slowly washing through Quin was worth the poor sensory input.

Now that it didn’t hurt so bad, Quin could tell that she had been sitting a bit stiffly to avoid aggravating the bruised areas and she relaxed a bit, taking a slow, deep breath and releasing it.

”That…is incredible.” she breathed, blinking a few times as more tears of relief sprang to her eyes. ”Thank you…How long….?” how long could she count on this lasting?

”I’m sorry…” she said, sniffling slightly ”Today is a lot.”

Pull. Stitch. Hold that there. Not that one. Give that one slack. Easy. Easy now. Will made delicate changes as the seconds ticked by, staring down without really seeing as his forehead knitted together in an expression of concentration. It was... bizarre to just know how to do this, but it seemed just as strange to not know. How did you make a fist? You just did. Will used that innate knowledge and the ebbing of the phantom ache in his ribs to keep adjusting things. A minute passed, maybe two, and Will would have kept going, but Quin shifted, and he could feel her relax as he still held onto her wrist.

That was probably enough then. Too much and she might not feel the wounds at all, make things worse by moving around. Will made sure he kept that small corner of his mind locked around the link to Quin, held it fast, and gingerly let go of the redhead. Her wrist slipped from his hand, but the link remained. It held. Good. 

”Thank you…How long….?”

Quin's question pulled him out of his head, the mental map of her senses winking out of his awareness as their physical connection broke. That tenuous link remained, keeping the changes he'd made locked in. That mental connection continued to feed a thin thread of his power into Quin, to keep her sense of touch dulled, but he wouldn't be able to make further changes without touching the redhead again. Of course, it would be easy enough to sever the connection and have her senses return to normal, but Will was pretty against that idea, at the moment. 

"S'long as I can keep my eyes open, really." Will said. It was a bit of an oversimplification, and he might have been overestimating his resources -- he'd never tried to hold a link for more than a couple hours and certain not while he was in this shape, but... From what he could remember, holding a single link didn't put much of a drain on him, basically just the mental equivalent of making sure to keep your hand in a fist. "Just be careful, nothin's actually fixed. You just won't feel it so much." 

Quin apologized while he was explaining, the two of them talking over one another, words tangling up. This time it seemed like it was Quin's turn to tear up and sniffle at the stress of the day. This was supposed to have been just a nice day. Where had it gone so twisted?

"Nah, s'alright..." Will said once they'd both managed to say their piece. "I'm one stubbed toe from breakin' down entirely." Will laughed, the sound a little brittle, too much truth in the words to be really funny. He took a long breath in and let it out slowly. It shook on the exhale. He reminded himself they were safe now -- at least for now. He tried to believe it. "I." Will started, lost his train of thought and trailed off. What was there to say? The man wanted to apologize for getting her wrapped up in this, Quin wouldn't be here if she'd never run into him. Will wanted to thank her for saving his life, and for still being here with him, but they'd probably just go back and forth on that.

"Y'know... Think I liked it better when it was just the sun out t'get us." 

As long as he could keep his eyes open? Quin’s brows raised at that and she took another deep breath. It was wild, she knew she was still hurt and it wasn’t like every ounce of pain had been washed away, and Will warned her that she still needed to be careful because she was still hurt. Quin nodded, she didn’t think she could have done much of anything if she tried anyway…but god…the relief was just so cathartic.

That was why she was currently sniffling and trying to wipe her eyes while they sat there in the almost ridiculously gorgeous cathedral.

Will empathized, he wasn’t in the best shape either, and Quin had to think again that feeling that way was the appropriate response to something like this happening. It always seemed to take her a while to get to this point, like her mind and body didn’t know how to react to the trauma until she’d had time to really process what had happened.

When Will started to speak again, Quin looked over at him, but he tailed off for a moment before he brought up their first chance meeting in the park.

Quin couldn’t help but think then how lucky she’d been to run into Will that day. If she hadn’t, who knew where she’d have ended up today and if someone would have been there to help her when she had burned herself out.

Still. ”What’s a little nuclear fusion compared to what we’ve been through today?” she said with a small smile, thinking back to how wildly normal that entire conversation had been.

”Next time, the coffee can be on me.” she said, ”Or maybe we can try tea and hope an extra dimensional portal doesn’t open and drop an ocean on us or something.”

It might not have served him terribly well over the last decade or so, but Will's underlying paranoia that everything was just a hair away from going wrong was about the only thing that was keeping him from being a complete wreck right now. That wasn't to say he was doing much, if at all better than Quin, but at least all that worrying had given him a fair resistance to stress. Still, he'd been working on wrong assumptions, using the wrong equation, but still wound up getting enough of it right. It did feel like betrayal though, that other mutants had been a part of it, he knew people would be people, good and bad regardless. The guy with the knife, sure, that sort of idea had been in his head since high school, but somehow he never expected to be on the receiving end of another mutant's abilities.

"Heatstroke in the park. Riot at the coffee shop. Sure, we can do tea and tidal waves next time." Will snorted, the laugh still forced, but a little less. Hard to say if fatigue was finally just beating down his ability to stay on edge, or if he was actually calming now that their immediate issues seemed to be solved. "Should I wear runners or flippers?" At least Quin seemed to be willing to put up with the bad jokes, throwing her own back at him. 

What did you say to someone you'd only just met, but you owed your life to? To someone who's life you might have saved in turn. 

Jeez. He might have saved her too, after all, huh? That wobbling pile of 'later' thoughts was starting to topple, and he couldn't help but go over their flight out of the cafe. 

Quin took down Hammer and Bat. He distracted Knives and put him down. Quin said they needed to leave, they ran. The car... Yeah, even he'd just managed to notice that in time... And even if she hadn't been there at the time... it would have blocked off that back alley pretty bad. With all the noise from the front on Broadway? But he wouldn't have moved so quick if she hadn't said to move and he wouldn't have made it against all four and...

Will could feel his stomach twist as he realized the amount of times they'd skimmed though danger to get to the place they were now. The man raised his hands to rub his temples as though trying to massage away the thoughts of all the near misses. Will swore colourfully under his breath, letting out his breath a slow exhalation before straightening back up on the hard bench, shifting to try to get a bit more comfortable, the muscles in his legs feeling like they'd been completely shredded from their panicked flight. "Pretty lucky we ran into each other that day... Dunno where you'd be today otherwise, but..." He didn't want to, didn't need to finish that sentence. 

Will knew that just sitting here and licking their wounds wasn't getting them anywhere, but he also knew there wasn't much else they could do. If they, if he heard anything, they'd react appropriately. There'd have to be some amenities here they could use if they needed to stay for any length of time, so with luck they could wait out whatever was happening outside.

Runners or flippers? Quin laughed at that and shrugged her shoulders. Either would probably be appropriate and she wouldn’t be shocked if the ocean did fall down on their heads. It was actually funny at this point because otherwise it would just be awful.

After that though, it got quiet again. They kept oscillating between the easy banter, serious topics, and just shocked silence. There wasn’t much else to do though. It felt weird to think about getting up and walking around more. It was so quiet and empty here that it felt wrong to even be where they were.

Will spoke then, echoing the thoughts that Quin had thought just a few minutes before. She shook her head, ”I’d have probably stayed at the tea shop…it was wildly crowded today…or the tables by the amphitheater in Central Park…” She’d have been alone and exposed in either of those places.

”I…”

“NYPD!” The shout came as the door that had been so hard to open a little bit ago flew open easily. Had they just been that tired or had there been some trick they hadn’t known?

Oh great.

Just what Quin needed.

”In here! Help!” she said as two uniformed LEOs made their way into the cathedral with their weapons drawn but down. For good measure, Quin put her hands up and nudged Will.

“Archer?” One of the cops said, standing up and holstering his weapon.

”Shit.” Quin said, eloquently.

Will listened as Quin talked about where she would have been. A tea shop? He didn't know where, but it probably wouldn't have been better off than the cafe, if this sort of crazy thing was happening everywhere. By Central Park? That... Sounded bad. No cover, people panicking would be running in every direction if something happened there. Maybe she could pull some kind of trick with her powers? She'd said she could feel things and move things with her mind, but -- he guessed there were limits, restrictions. There always seemed to be. 

Moments before there was a shout, Will's blood ran cold. Footsteps. Purposeful. Headed right for the door. Crap. Maybe someone -had- seen them come in... Or maybe Rocky or Hammer or one of the others had some power that could track them? If Quin could feel things, maybe Rocky could feel rocks he'd thrown? Will's aching muscles tensed and his legs protested and it was only the stiffness in his legs and his own indecision that kept him in the bench long enough to hear the voice yell out. 

“NYPD!”

Now, Will typically had feelings on law enforcement. But he'd call himself a hypocrite later, as a wave of relief washed over him at the yell and the appearance of the two law enforcers. His eyes locked onto the two advancing officers. Weapons drawn, they didn't look calm, that was sure -- who would be with the chaos outside, but neither did they look like they were going to jump at shadows. Cautious, let's call it. Maybe even professional, though Will's mind wouldn't allow him to think it.

However, even with senses sharp enough to give him seconds of advanced warning, it didn't make his brain any smarter or process what to do next any faster, and his hands were still in his lap until Quin gave him a nudge. Following her lead, he lifted both. Ow. One hand over his head, hoping that the pair would see the makeshift bandage on the other and understand his reluctant in putting it up as well. As one of them holstered their weapon, it seemed like it was enough -- though he supposed neither he nor Quin looked much like threats.

The one cop spoke, looking directly at Quin, referring to her as 'Archer'. 

Quin had some emphatic feelings on that in response. 

Will added this to his bucket. He prayed his later bucket would continue to hold all the things he needed to think about later, talk about later... though he couldn't help a baffled look from crossing his face, his eyes darting between the officers and Quin. The mutant was, however, courteous or smart enough to keep his mouth tightly shut for the moment. 

The second the LEO recognized her, Quin shut down a little bit. Sure it was a good thing that there were professionals here now, that presumably knew where they could go that would be safe. It also absolutely sucked that one of the cops knew who she was.

This always happened and it was always weird. That stark look of recognition, then confusion, then awkward pity as they put the pieces together and remembered who and what she was.

Things immediately got less stressed though. The officer who knew her pulled the other officer aside for a moment and Quin could only imagine the conversation they were having. She didn’t recognize either one of them, but that was no surprise. What was surprising was that there was still a beat cop who remembered who Quin had been over five years ago.

Quin put her hands down and indicated to Will that he could do the same. ”This is part of the long story…” she said dejectedly as the cops finished their conversation and turned back to her and Will.

The cop who knew Quin spoke into the radio on his shoulder and approached, “There’s a staging area at the hospital. We can take you back there, they’ve closed this place off to the public.” He said kindly and Quin clenched her jaw. There was no way Quin was going to turn down the help, but god it rankled to see that look on the older cop’s face. The looks the man’s partner kept sending in Quin’s direction didn’t help her mood.

Still. Will needed stitches and Quin supposed she needed looked at too.

”Lead the way officer…”

One of the cops had clearly recognized Quin. Called her 'Archer'. Last name, probably? But... Will's mind scrabbled for reasons why that could make sense that didn't put a wall between him and his new friend. She was involved in law for school, maybe there was something there? Her folks could -- no, she said they were hippies through and through. Uncle, or sibling in law enforcement maybe?

As the two cops stepped aside, they started speaking in hushed voices. One might think they were talking about the situation, sitrep, that sort of thing. Maybe just getting chatting, saying how relieved they were they didn't run into trouble. Could be they were radioing in their situation. Just about anyone else would have to wonder what they were talking about. 

Will, for better or worse, didn't.

It might have been eavesdropping, but it wasn't as though there was anything he could do to stop it. The two talked about Quin, the one officer who hadn't recognized her briefly looking over to them before the other told him not too. Will didn't get all the details, enhanced hearing or not, the two were still trying to keep things quiet. It was still plenty. A story, more gossip really, about Quin. No -- Detective Archer. Apparently she was of some renown when she'd been in the force. Hadn't been with them for years now. There was trouble. She was dealing with some human trafficking ring, things went bad, and weird. Something they did, the people in the ring... Some drug, or whatever it was they were doing. Well when they'd found Detective Archer, she was a kid -- or teenager, rather. 

Will only realized he was spacing out as he listened to what they had to say, as Quin's voice cut in. ”This is part of the long story…”

Will lowered his hand slowly, nodding to Quin in understanding, both about being able to lower his hand and her comment on the officer recognizing her being part of the 'long story' she'd said in passing before. Back at the park, right? It felt like a lifetime... Will couldn't though, hide the perplexed look on his face and was incredibly glad when the officers came over, keeping him from having to try and make conversation with Quin as he tried to absorb what he'd just heard. Suppose he'd have a bit of a heads up on her story, if she ever wanted to tell it.

A staging area. The hospital. Will guessed that meant that things were calmer outside. With the door open, he still couldn't hear the noises he'd heard before, so... At least the immediate area was clear. The hospital was probably smart though, he didn't think a coffee stained apron was the best thing to fix a stab wound, and if they were being offered somewhere to go, it meant that they could actually relax instead of just hope that they wouldn't be found. 

Will pretended like he didn't notice the other cop looking over at Quin like some kind of curiosity. He pretended like he didn't see the expression on the other's face (pity? humor? Whatever it was, it irked him). He pretended like he didn't hear the conversation, but it didn't fit in the bucket and just rattled around his head like an angry marble. "Let's go. We're both good to walk still, I think." [/span]Will commented, pushing himself stiffly to his feet.

He pretended like he could meet Quin's gaze, but found himself staring at the floor.

Will was looking at her, confused. That absolutely made sense and Quin heaved a sigh. Hadn’t enough happened today? Couldn’t she do anything without this having to come up?

Apparently not. She couldn’t even survive a riot without her stupid past showing up to laugh in her face.

The second cop kept stealing glances at her, and Quin kept her face carefully averted so that they didn’t make eye contact. The last thing she wanted was the cop to think he needed to talk to her. She didn’t want any questions, didn’t want to talk about it. Not with a stranger.

Will was standing now and Quin followed suit. It was much easier this time than it had been when they’d been outside owing to what Will had done with his power and when Quin turned to thank him she noticed that he was staring at the floor.

Then they were on their way.

The hospital in question wasn’t even a block away, and with an armed and uniformed escort they made it there without much trouble at all.

Triage had been set up, but there were tents with chairs and cots and all sorts of things that looked immensely more comfortable than the wooden benches that Quin and Will had found in the church. Once they’d been carefully deposited, the cops took off again to look for more survivors or people who needed help.

It didn’t take long before the two of them had been registered, given a triage evaluation, and sent to wait in the shade with some water bottles and even a snack. This was much better.

The silence was awkward now though and Quin knew she was going to have to say something if she wanted any chance of making it better.

”I….” she started, then sighed, looking out at the streets for a moment before turning back to Will, ”Remember how I said that this wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to me?”

The walk had done him some good. While it hurt, his legs hated every step he took, and there was still distant noise echoing down the streets from who knows where that put him on edge, it let him know that things here seemed more under control. The walk itself also gave him time to process some of the things he'd been putting off. Largely just letting himself actually think about some of the consequences of what the events of today meant. Still had to call his boss, if they hadn't called -him- already. Assuming his phone was even still working -- might have taken a hit from Rocky. He might be out of a job... Was probably off work for a bit anyway, with the shape his arm was in. Could he afford the hospital bill for his arm? Was there something special that happened for people in events like this that the city, or the state did for that sort of thing? Should he call his folks?

Throughout all the worrying, that marble of bizarre knowledge from the cops kept butting in. It sounded implausible. Impossible even. But Will was pretty good at telling truth from lies -- the one cop had believed what he was saying. That didn't make it true, exactly, but Quin had also said that the way the cop had greeted her was all tied into that 'long story' she'd hinted at before. 

With as much as he had on his mind, the check-in process happened in a blur. He gave his name, at some point he was pretty sure he had to pull out his ID (oh dang, his wallet was fine.). Checked and was found to not have life threatening wounds. (Good to know, but no kidding.) And when his overwhelmed brain finally caught up with the what-ifs and should he would he and everything else, Will had both hands wrapped around a bottle of water that he didn't recall being handed. Shock was a funny thing.

Even so, he could feel the tension between them. He'd been checked out, purposefully finding reasons to avoid talking to her during the walk... The company would have made it awkward anyway, but...  hm. Will still couldn't find the words or the gumption to break the ice, twisting the plastic bottle in his hands like a fidget toy instead. 

Quin spoke, breaking the silence, asking if he remembered her saying that this wasn't the worst she'd been through. Will's grip tightened around the bottle in his hands in a crinkle of plastic, but he found enough courage to meet her gaze. "Yeah...?" He answered simply, the single word gently urging her to continue as he tried to ignore the anxiety twisting in his guts.

Will looked like he was caught between wanting to know and not wanting to know.

Quin couldn’t blame him. She wished that she didn’t know half of it.

Still. If she was going to tell the story, again, she was going to look Will in the eyes while she did it.

”I…used to be a Detective with the NYPD.” she started, ”I don’t know a lot of the details but for some reason I quit and was working as a PI for one of the Mutant Outreach groups in town.”

There were still so many gaps, so many things that Quin didn’t know and didn’t know how to ask.

”You might remember that for a while, kids were getting snatched off the street and never seen again. People were showing up way younger than they’d been before….”

He probably saw where this was going by now, but Quin continued on, her own hands tightening on the water bottle, ”Apparently I was looking into the human trafficking ring…and I got too close.” Here, Quin took a deep breath.

Now she looked away, eyes distant as she remembered,

”The first thing I remember is waking up on a table in this bright, white room. I couldn’t move, and there was a doctor or someone there. I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t at school…my clothes were trashed, I was covered in my own blood, but I didn’t have a scratch on me…I was so confused and scared. ”

Another breath.

”They took me to a literal cage with a bunch of other kids, but I guess I had managed to break the case open before I got picked up because they raided the place that night.”

Pulling her eyes back to Will, Quin shrugged, ”I found out later that I lost over a decade?” she said, not sure of the exact number anymore, ”I don’t remember any of it, one way ticket back to 19. The perfect age, apparently.”

Quin looked back down at the bottle in her hands and twisted off the lid to take a drink, ”Cops still recognize me sometimes. It’s really weird…” As if the rest of it wasn’t.

Will waited on pins and needles, not sure if he wanted Quin to speak her piece or not. She'd been almost as tightly wound since the cop addressed her as 'Archer' as she had been when she was dealing with the full brunt of her cracked ribs. With a story like he'd overheard, at least the barest fragments, he guessed he couldn't blame her, but... Suddenly, it was too late to wonder if he wanted to hear the story or not, Quin was talking, and with his hearing, even covering his ears wasn't about to stop him from her tale.

She was had been a detective with NYPD. Will had already gotten that much from Officer Gossip back in the cathedral. But even when she was... had been... Before all the trouble started, but after she was an officer, she stopped being a cop and joined up with some sort of Mutant Outreach group, using the same skills.

That at least eased some of the tension that had been gripping at his lungs. If she'd made that choice, she wouldn't be the kind of person that would have stood idly by in the riots back in 2012. Wouldn't be the type to use the badge and the power it provided to take advantage of other people... not that she'd seemed that way, but... Will didn't have a chance to continue that line of thinking, as Quin kept talking and he wanted to pay attention.

Quin talked about an event he'd mostly forgotten about. People vanishing, some claiming that they were 2, 5, 10 years younger. Will hadn't known anyone that had been affected, but hearing Quin talk about it, he did recall the news stories about people being snatched up, and the general atmosphere of fear that had been about while it had happened. And then Quin kept going, describing what had happened to her. She looked away, and Will couldn't remember her looking away for any of the bits of the conversation they'd had earlier today, after escaping death by the skin of their teeth.

Quin described how she woke up, what must have been the first parts of this whole experienced that she actually knew and weren't just explained to her. Will's ears were sharp enough to pick up on the emotion in her voice. The words sounded raw, worse somehow than when she'd been near tears in the cathedral. Part of him wanted to tell her to stop, but his throat felt like it'd been glued shut.

She'd been put in a cage. With others. Lost and scared. Covered in blood. Missing a decade, maybe more... Suppose she only had other people's word to go on for how much was lost. The way she said 'The perfect age' made him feel like he'd been punched, the meaning clear. 

Will's own hands were twisted tight around the bottle of water in his own hands, deforming the soft, disposable plastic container. He loosened his grip, taking a cue from Quin and unscrewing the cap of his own to take a drink, more for the act of something to do than to slake his thirst... though he -was- more parched than he realized. Seems running for your life is a bit dehydrating.

"I..." Will started, faltered, tried to find words again. What did you even -say- to something like that? Joking was right out. There's no way he could even pretend to understand, or say he empathized... who else had been through something like that where they could put themselves into her shoes? "I'm sorry..." Will said quietly, only having empty sympathy to offer, not knowing what else to say, what else to do. "That's... That's awful." A decade, just gone? And to wake up like that...  And now today? Did she ever manage to catch a break?