maskormenacelogs | no one can find the rewind button now

[The sun's already on its way down by the time they've processed his bail, and George pushes out of the front door with his hands shoved in his pockets. With Sarah by his side he at least feels somewhat better, but there's still a claw of panic around his gut. He has no idea what he's going to say to her, how he's going to explain getting arrested.

But he can make a start, at least.]

... They gave me a new power.

[ Sarah isn't sure what to say as they walk out of the precinct and start off down the street. She can't really be angry at him for disappearing if it was out of his control, and she knows getting arrested is out of character for him—not to mention how hypocritical it would be of her if she held it against him. In the end, she decides to let him lead the conversation. ]

Yeah?

[He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a stick of gum that miraculously survived the thorough booking process, holding it between two of his fingers.]

Watch.

[For a moment nothing happens. Then, the silver paper starts to crumble, and the white gum underneath. It dissolves to dust, sticking to his fingers and blowing off into the air, until there's nothing left to hold onto.]

Now imagine it with a building. [He sounds bitter, but defeated.] It was an accident, I didn't even know I was doing it. But try telling that to the police when a war's just been started.

[ Sarah stares, watching as the gum turns to dust and blows away into nothingness. It's strange, watching George destroy something. It seems so unlike him. More like a power she would have been given, a power that lets you destroy buildings or maybe even people. ]

Holy shit.

[His hands are shaking as he brushes off the dust, flexing his fingers in tense distrust. His eyes are rimmed with red.]

I don't want- [There's a slight choke to his voice, like he's on the verge of either yelling or crying.] They'll kick me out of the residency. I could kill someone, without even- [Yeah, full-on anxiety attack coming right up.] I don't want to be this!

Hey. Hey. Listen to me.

[ She reaches for his hand, trying to calm him down before this escalates. ] You're not gonna kill anyone. You're not gonna get kicked out.

[But he pulls away, stumbling back towards the curb. She can't touch him, he could-]

I got arrested, that's already enough to kick me out. But for hurting people... [He shakes his head, eyes bright with pain.] I thought this was gonna be a second chance. I thought maybe I wouldn't ruin this one.

[ She draws her hand back, trying not to look hurt. ]

You're not ruining anything. You'll learn to control this. Your program will understand, there's got to be some leeway for imPorts, yeah? [ She has no idea if anything she's saying is true, but she needs to believe that it is, because clearly the last thing George needs right now is any doubt. ]

I'm the first one. [They made him sign a waiver and everything. The hospital wasn't sure how to handle it. ImPorts don't usually come in looking to join a five-year residency program - they're usually looking to leave.] But it doesn't matter. I can't do it, not like this. I can't risk my patients. And I can't risk-

[His words catch. His heel scrapes at the edge of the curb.]

... What if I hurt you?

Then if they won't let you stay, another hospital will take you. You're good at what you do and you'll learn to control this. [ Her voice is getting rough, despite her attempts to stay calm. She's never been good at it, and this? This is an entirely new playing field.

When George mentions hurting her, she has to take a deep breath. She's been hurt before by guys she's dated. None of them have been anything like George. ]

We'll deal with it. I'm not—not some glass figure you need to worry about breaking. Or are you planning on never touching me again?

[He swallows, trying to shake his head without dislodging the complete meltdown sitting impatiently in his chest. She's getting fed up with his fear, he can tell, but he doesn't know how to handle any of this.]

That's not what I want at all. I'm just- [Paralyzed with terror?] I'm afraid. The whole time I was in that jail, I just kept imagining... I kept picturing you, turning to dust, and I'd rather die than let that happen.

[The word rings out louder than intended, echoing over again in the street - die, die, die.]

... I wish they'd sent me back home.

You wish they sent you back home.

[ Sarah can only repeat him, stunned. She's not sure how his statement was meant to make her react, but the overwhelming feeling isn't sympathy, but offense. He wishes he'd been sent home without so much as a goodbye? Sent home to nothing? ]

You want to go back to being dead.

[He regrets the words as soon as they're out of his mouth, but only for the hurt he knows he's caused her. Sarah has been nothing but gracious to him - she bailed him out of jail, for fuck's sake, and she doesn't deserve to have his pain thrown at her like this. But his heart is pounding in his ears, and he can almost taste blood in the back of his mouth, sharp and hot as the day he was brought to this place from the jaws of a bus.]

I am dead! I died months ago, on an operating table, with my body in a million pieces, and that should have been it. This place... I'm grateful for it, really, because I got to meet you, and you're the best thing that's happened to me since long before I died. But you have a family. You have people to go home to. Why the hell would you risk your safety for me?

[ Sarah winces. This is not her place, first of all. She's out of her depth. The whole selling point of this relationship being a relationship was that George is supposed to be leading the way, demonstrating how to date somebody and remain functional and normal. She's made a couple token efforts at being calm, at staying in control and helping him, and now that they haven't worked, she has no experience to fall back on, no way she knows to make things right.

So she pushes back, instead. ]

I don't know, George! Why are either of us bothering, if this is all so pointless?

[George's face goes slack. He can't tell her why he's bothering. He can't tell her that he's falling in love, quickly but thoroughly, with the way she smiles at him in the morning half-light, and how her hair feels against his cheek when they fall asleep on the sofa. He can't say any of that, because she'd run. Love was never supposed to be a part of the deal. It just adds to the emptiness growing in his stomach.

You fucked up. You fucked it all up again, O'Malley. He can't do surgery, and he can't have a family, and he's scaring off the person he cares most about in this world.

He takes another step backwards, sliding off the curb.]

You mean more to me than I can say, Sarah. That's why I bother. All I want is to keep you safe and make you smile, but now I'm- [a monster.] ... I can't see how I'm worth getting hurt over.

Then do something.

[ Reach for her, take her hand, something. Prove it. ]

[George looks up at her, eyes finally meeting. There's a tremor in his legs, fear still coursing through his veins, but looking at Sarah quells just a bit of it. There's still a voice in his head yelling out for an end, but maybe if he just focuses on Sarah, on how leaving her would be as bad as hurting her...

He steps back up onto the sidewalk, moving towards her at a snail's pace, like he's pushing through cold water. And when he reaches her, he offers out one hand, safely bundled up in the end of his sweatshirt sleeve.]

... I'm not okay.

Okay.

[ She closes her own hand around his, sweatshirt sleeve and all. ]

You'll get through this. [ She feels like she should be saying "we'll get through this," but she can't bring herself to utter the word. She'll do her best to help him, but during this conversation she's started to feel increasingly like her best is nowhere near good enough for what George really needs. ]

Maybe you'll need to wear gloves for a while, but... [ George turning her to dust doesn't scare her. It's everything else that does. ] I'm not gonna run off just because of that, alright?

[He wishes so hard that he could bring himself to believe her, but right now the tunnel is black as night. All he can do is focus on her hand, and the sound of her voice, and pretend that she's telling the truth.]

Thank you.

[He doesn't know quite what he's thanking her for - not leaving him, perhaps? Being Sarah Manning?]

... And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go off on you like that. This is just... it's hard.

I know. It's okay.

[ Now that they're standing here, holding hands (kind of), she's not sure what to do next. ]

[He isn't sure either, but part of him is still itching to run, and he finally lets himself listen to it.]

Listen, I need to run back to the hospital. Grab a few things, talk to the Chief. But I'll... I'll be home in a bit. With dinner.

[Not even bothering to correct himself this time. Her place is home, they both know it by now.]

Okay?

Yeah. [ Sarah drops his hand and slips her own into the pocket of her jacket. ]

I'll be there.

[ This isn't necessarily true. She's not sure if she can bring herself to sit at home and wait for him after this. But she'll at least try. ]

[A. Sarah's apartment - open to anyone who might be visiting]

[George doesn't want to be here. This strange apartment, full of people he doesn't know, in the middle of a city he's never heard of - it's all way too much to even absorb, but he doesn't know where else to go. So he's sitting at the kitchen table with a phone, trying to dial number after number.

They're all either disconnected, or belong to the entirely wrong person.]

Yes, I was trying to call my friend, her name's Cristina Y- No, no, I'm not a telemarketer, I'm just- ... Okay, alright, I won't bother you again. [He hangs up the phone with a sigh, and drops his head into his hands.]

[B. Other]

[Later in the day, you can catch George around the city, trying to figure out more information about what's going on. He looks like a complete nervous wreck - his hair is longer and messier than he tends to wear it, and his clothes are more wrinkled. If you approach him, he'll look at you like a startled deer.

Be gentle with him - he's a bit younger than normal.]

no one can find the rewind button now

for sarah

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PULL-POINT PLOT - 3/27