( sara's eyes search rip's face frantically for any kind of sign that he's lying to her, trying to cover his own ass, but —
there really doesn't seem to be any. her expression begins to soften as he asks for her trust, because it's — still a sore spot, an open wound that hasn't seemed to fully scab over yet. there's the part of her that trusts him inherently, because he'd saved her, because he'd put aside his initial mission to try sacrificing himself for the sake of the team. the other part of her resents him for saving her, for forgetting that being on a team meant letting people know everything that was going on, for once again taking away their capability of making their own choices.
it's complicated.
the way that rip tells her to proceed is pretty concerning, raises a whole ton of alarm bells in her brain. with as little detail as possible. she doesn't like where this is going.
exhaling sharply, sara tries: ) The Waverider. Nazi U-boat. Atomic bomb. You were heading straight for the torpedo and I asked if the Waverider could handle the blast and — the next thing I knew, you pushed some kind of button and I felt like I was being pulled away from there piece by piece and — I ended up flat on my ass in the woods over there.
( it's probably a little more specific than she should've been, but she needs answers. and — oh, whoops, she can probably let go of his jacket now, take an awkward step backwards. )
no subject
there really doesn't seem to be any. her expression begins to soften as he asks for her trust, because it's — still a sore spot, an open wound that hasn't seemed to fully scab over yet. there's the part of her that trusts him inherently, because he'd saved her, because he'd put aside his initial mission to try sacrificing himself for the sake of the team. the other part of her resents him for saving her, for forgetting that being on a team meant letting people know everything that was going on, for once again taking away their capability of making their own choices.
it's complicated.
the way that rip tells her to proceed is pretty concerning, raises a whole ton of alarm bells in her brain. with as little detail as possible. she doesn't like where this is going.
exhaling sharply, sara tries: ) The Waverider. Nazi U-boat. Atomic bomb. You were heading straight for the torpedo and I asked if the Waverider could handle the blast and — the next thing I knew, you pushed some kind of button and I felt like I was being pulled away from there piece by piece and — I ended up flat on my ass in the woods over there.
( it's probably a little more specific than she should've been, but she needs answers. and — oh, whoops, she can probably let go of his jacket now, take an awkward step backwards. )