“They’re in the basement, give me time to get them out.”
In between the “me” and the “time” she opened her fist and let the orb drop to the floor. The orb was a dud. Her eyes remained locked on his one, her face a calm mask. In one swift motion, while the orb was still in mid-air, her left hand reached behind her and pulled out her Taser and fired it at him. Classic misdirect. And if he so much as twitched after the first shot, she was prepared to keep firing until he was unconscious.
He felt electricity jolt through him, felt his muscles tense on the gun that was in his hand, moving it. He felt pain as which wouldn’t be nominally felt under most of all circumstances of one’s life. The muscles rebelled, his gaze falling up and up to the roof as his neck turned into metal, rigid and unmoving. Then the electricity stopped, the pins still in him. Isaac looked down, down to her and down to her face, and their eyes met again. His face was one of controlled fury, of a storm that just wanted to do, and he started to speak.
“I don’t have time for this bullshit. You don’t have time for this bullshit. I’d love it if you put a little faith in me, just a little, just a tiny little fucking ounce of it. This building is about to get swarmed. Swarmed, do you understand that? We’re about to get hit with a helluva thing so I’d kindly suggest that you get your fucking priorities in order, let me take these fucking metal spikes from my chest, and let me help you in dealing with this bullshit.”
His voice was taut, taut as a wire and strained with restrained emotion and anger that just wished to burst free and into the frenzy that could be, that would be, that was already outside. Isaac wanted to not see her face on the path, wanted her to live, wanted her to just fucking to the right goddamn thing but hell, she was naive as a devil. It was a bitch of a thing. Isaac sighed at it all, a heavy sigh.
“What’ll it take for you to trust me. My name is Isaac Elliot. At aged thirteen I shoved myself into Arkham, not because some cop told me to, not because a court ordered me to, not because a shrink wanted me to, but because it was the safest hole I could find for the rest of those around me, for normal bastards. I could’ve kept that all up, could have kept killing people just from my appearance, but y’know what? I fucking made a sacrifice, right here,” he pointed, with his other hand, to his face. “And I lived with that choice. I wanted to walk, to talk to people. I wanted to get to be a normal part of society, not a guy killing his nurses just because they took a walk near him to hand some meds over to the asshole next door, not a guy killing psychiatrists who were just trying to fucking help. I do shit, like this, and I try to do it right. What the fuck would it take, lady, for you to trust me.”