#gc:cian

There's a quiet hum of pain that reaches Josie's ear and she thinks it must've come from her. Her mind is hazy, unable to remember everything that had happened clearly. Everything is just shadows and blurs of color. The feeling of gentle fingers upon her skin and how warm she'd been when he carried her out of the cell. The sound of wind in the trees alerts her to not being in the prison anymore, despite not being able to recollect leaving it behind. How she would've liked to watch it burn to the ground.

When her eyes flutter open slowly, Josie's vision takes a moment to adjust to the expanse of green tarp over her. The tent's flaps are closed, probably mostly for privacy and to let in as less light as possible to let her rest. And if Cian had any say in it, so that no one would see inside because he knows her well enough to know she wouldn't want anyone to know she's immobile. The cot she's on creaks under the movement of her weight, as she slowly shifts her legs, and that's painful enough to make her stop. There's blankets over her, her own blankets that had been stored in her Jeep and she wonders how he'd managed to get those when she had no idea where the truck is at the moment.

Slowly, Josie's head turns to the side, eyes greeted by the sight of Cian sitting on the small cot beside her, an open book in his hands but his blue eyes are upon her and not the words on the page. He must've heard her stir.}

Did you get Rose? {The words leave her lips quickly, voice hoarse from sleep and disuse, but also the quick fear that's choking her that they hadn't gotten Rose out. That something bad had happened. That Rose is dead. And then everything would've been for nothing.}

{Josie had never been so fortunate in bumping into Tessa. Because the woman had looked confused, holding little Noah in her arms and that's not her job. That is Rose's responsibility. Josie asked about the mother, inquired because she suddenly wasn't sure when the last time she saw the woman and it hadn't been since the horde attacked the store. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She'd been too busy basking in the glory of war, proud of the marks on her skin of blood and grease. Her ego got in her own way, and her jaw sets tightly when she thinks about the one man she's searching for, how his lips felt moving against hers, and why she had been so preoccupied with that when she should've been checking on Rose.

As soon as Tessa expressed she didn't know where Rose was and hadn't seen the woman, Josie bolts off to her shelf like a rocket. It had taken her only a few moments to collect her things, strapping knives to her thighs, a gun to her hip and packing a small backpack with provisions for a few days worth of searching. But Josie wouldn't give up searching for Rose until she found the woman, and reunited the mother with her child.

Her boots ring heavy on the concrete mass of flooring as she heads to where she knows Cian's set up his supplies, the space where he sleeps. She knows because if she climbs just one more shelf up, she can just barely catch a glimpse of this space and it's easy to check if he's okay. But his well-being isn't her concern right now. Josie's mouth is a thin line of determination and she walks with a purpose, finally a cause and it almost feels like she's found something worth fighting for. She finds him reading, a typical action for him, but she kicks his leg to get his attention. Josie has no time to waste. She pants lightly, out of breath but she couldn't blame collecting her things because her stamina is greater now than it was before the world ended, and she could thank her powers for that. Her voice is hard, determined, serious, but there's a hint of desperation lying somewhere in the slight whisper.} I need you.