PSYCHO - JOHN MURPHY

14. Bio Warfare.

B I O W A R F A R E

"You're fine anyway you look."

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"WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOU?" Ainsley whispers, mortified, as she wets the washcloth again to clean the blood off his face the best she can. The ones she could get to, anyway.

She's been at this for exactly an hour, but due to his flinching, she hasn't exactly gotten all of the blood off. He doesn't appear to hold any grudges about her leaving him, though. In fact, he even claimed he would have done the same thing. "Cockroach protocol and all," he had said. Ainsley sighs and dips the bloody washcloth into the water, wringing out the best she can before pressing it gently against the side of John's head. It turns out that maybe in another life, Ainsley wasn't so bad at this doctor thing.

Although, her bedside manor could use some work.

"What, C'mon, Ashter, don't like what you see anymore?" John mutters somewhat playfully, but with a painful groan that makes his smirk come off as more of a grimace if anything.

Ainsley smiles tightly at the attempt to make the situation lighter, but she knows enough about torture methods to deduce the way they had torn off his fingernails, and the beating he took to his face. Though, if he wasn't ready to talk about it, she wouldn't force him. Ainsley is too aware of Derek and Connor's presence just behind her. They act like guard dogs, but Ainsley's pretty sure they wouldn't bat an eye if John did try to kill her. Still, they at least kept other people from storming in here.

"You look fine anyway you look," Ainsley blurts. Her eyes widen. She did not just say that. Of course, she did.

It seems their time in the woods had meant more to her than she let on, even to herself. She clears her throat and averts her gaze towards the long-forgotten washcloth. She wants to leave. She should leave. If John hadn't gotten close to her in the first place, then maybe none of this would have happened. She couldn't protect him. Hell, she couldn't even protect herself, so how the hell does she expect him to care for someone as weak as her? Her cheeks redden slightly as John places a gentle hand over her own.

"You, too, Ainsley," John replies sincerely.

Ainsley tries to hide a flicker of a smile, but her lip twitches and ruins the whole thing. She couldn't tell you how ecstatic she feels. It surpasses every single emotion she has, because he's alive. He's alive, and she wants to scream 'I told you so' to her brain until she's blue in the face. She doesn't, of course. Ainsley has to keep some form of normalcy about her so the others wouldn't see her facade break. He's here. She's comforted by the warmth of their intertwined fingers. He's alive. She glances at him for a couple extra seconds while he's staring off in the other direction, but as soon as he turns to look at her, she looks away. I was wrong.