[closed] //take a breath take a step meet me down below

[girl_unlocking]

Who: AU!Dawn Summers girl_unlocking & Jay Todd jaytodd
When: Soon after this conversation.
Where: What's passing for where Jason calls home these days.
Format: However it goes. Probably paragraph.
What: The forge violates Jay's brain, Dawn offers to sit watch with an axe so he can (maybe) sleep.
Warnings: Angst, language, possible violence? God knows what? It's

Comments

[jaytodd]

"Right here," he answers. He's sitting on the floor in a place that can take in both door and window while being hidden from the outside, his back to a wall. His guns and knife are spread out before him, on a rag, another rag in his hands. He hadn't needed to clean them, but it was that or pacing. Or maybe punching a wall. Punching the mist if he could, or finding Br-, B and punching the daylight out of him again

[girl_unlocking]

So she slips in, at his invitation, a little like shadow - and she can't help but wonder---

Is this how easy the darkness slipped inside? Just a 'come in' and there it was?Pictures and printed words could only tell so much, after all. She'd be wrong to think there wasn't more

[jaytodd]

He watches her - but he gives her his back. He doesn't know why he trusts her, but he does.

Her shoes (he remembers them from the rooftop, crazy clockwork shoes) go click click click softly on the wood of the floor.

He turns, then, her question (and the way she had said it, her tone, and there isn't enough light to say properly damn it but the one lamp he has is empty) taking him by surprise, a bit. It sounds like it's the way this night is going anyway, surprise after surprise and it's not the right kind of one.

Punish myself? She gets closer, no close enough that it'd be uncomfortable, but close enough that he can feel the space between them, continue with the questions-

"What?" He stares at her. How the hell do you think I am, Dawn? He won't answer that.

[girl_unlocking]

So, shitty it is, then. That's fair.

She blinks slowly, eyes adjusting to the less-dark darkness, not moving any closer, but refusing to back up. She knows she probably should, but that's the beauty of making a perfectly bad decision even though you've got the hindsight.

"I thought you might want to let it out. Some of it. What little you can?"

Another step. Fuck bad decisions.

"If talking isn't your thing-- if it's bullshit (and half the time it is), and you just want to tear the walls down, then I can do that, too. It's what I'm built to do, pretty much. You don't have to hold anything back. I'm not a kid, and I'm certainly not breakable."

Fuck instinct.

There's a darkness in her eyes as she says this. It can't touch his - it's not nearly as volatile, as violent, but it's quietly dangerous in its own way.

"I want to help you. I'm not saying this out of some stupid half-assed obligation. I'm not saying this because I think I know you because I read some shit in books. I'm saying this because you meant something to me, and you