slow_burn: (g l a d)
[personal profile] slow_burn
Aiden wasn't seen for the rest of the session.

It was a few hours later he was finally released from the room in the house that was basically just a room with a lock on the outside, a quiet room of sorts. It might as well had been Aiden's second home.

He didn't kick the door or bang his head against the wall this time, though. Instead, he thought. And waited.

It was night when Aiden found her, gently knocking on her room. They had a lot more freedom here than they did a hospital, that was for sure--no nurses patrolling, anyway.

"Hey," He's opened the door somewhat ajar, peaking his head in but not looking directly at the bed (it's the same setup for all of them). Tracy's asleep, anyway. "Heather. Get up, I want to show you something."

(no subject)

Date: 2012-08-11 11:44 pm (UTC)
sweetmotherofgod: (real life sucks losers dry)
From: [personal profile] sweetmotherofgod
She's up already, pretty much. Dressed and sitting cross-legged on top of her bed. Sleep doesn't come easily to her anymore, and when it does it's full of nightmares. When Aiden calls for her, she unfolds herself and walks to him without questioning it. Midnight jaunts with potential psychos? Not her best idea, but at least it'll break up the monotony.

"Show me what?"

(no subject)

Date: 2012-08-12 12:17 am (UTC)
sweetmotherofgod: (2)
From: [personal profile] sweetmotherofgod
Well if it's his dick he's gonna lose it, but she's curious enough follow -- stepping where he steps, because there's a very deliberate way about his movements -- and give him a chance to make her feel bad for that thought. Even though the moon's not what he's showing her it's what catches her attention, holds it long enough that she doesn't look over until she hears the brick. Wouldn't do to get clobbered in the head with it, right?

"Ohhh." It's recognition, and very quiet amusement. "Really?"

(no subject)

Date: 2012-08-12 01:09 am (UTC)
sweetmotherofgod: (i have no control over myself)
From: [personal profile] sweetmotherofgod
"God knows you could use a little of that," she says, but there's no malice it it. The fact that him springing to her defense was obviously just an excuse doesn't prevent her from being entertained by it, and a little grateful for the interruption.

"Does anybody ever answer that question seriously?"

Judy doesn't seem so bad to Heather. Silly, but harmless. She shrugs, takes the joint with a nod of thanks (ignoring the voice in her head chanting nothing's free nothing's free nothing's free), draws on it and hands it back to him with her breath held and eyes closed.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-08-12 01:22 am (UTC)
sweetmotherofgod: (football season is over)
From: [personal profile] sweetmotherofgod
Well that's fucking depressing. Not that she would have expected much more, but she's not used to hearing people say that shit so bluntly. Even Leonard dressed it up in ideology.

She leans back, propping herself on her elbows. The moon's a safer object of interest than his face.

"What if it's already done it's worst?"

(no subject)

Date: 2012-08-12 01:52 am (UTC)
sweetmotherofgod: (5)
From: [personal profile] sweetmotherofgod
She does look at him, now. And yeah, she could ask how the hell he knows that when he wasn't in the room, demand he tell her who's telling him her business, but she's getting the sense that would get her precisely nowhere.

"No," she says, making eye contact, holding it. "He was dead when I got home." And, because it's the sort of little detail freaks love and this might go easier if she doesn't make him drag it all out of her, "Arranged."

(no subject)

Date: 2012-08-12 02:09 am (UTC)
sweetmotherofgod: (1)
From: [personal profile] sweetmotherofgod
Her eyes stay open, stay on Aiden's face. If she looks away she'll close them, and if she closes them she'll see him, and if she sees him --

no.

"In an armchair. It wasn't even - he never sat there. But it faced away from the door. I was talking to him for... a long time before I noticed something was wrong."

It wasn't that long, and rationally she knows that. If she plays the sequence back in her mind, it was only a sentence. But it feels like hours, like she left him there for days.

"He was stabbed. On the roof, I think. There was blood. A trail of blood."

And I followed it and I saw her and she told me what I had to do to kill her and I still failed.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-08-12 02:31 am (UTC)
sweetmotherofgod: (g5)
From: [personal profile] sweetmotherofgod
It's unsettling, the slow way he blinks. There's something sleepy and sensual about it, and it's completely fucking inappropriate.

"No." Would that have been the normal thing to do? Is that what a whole girl would have done? No point to wondering. Anyway, she's only know Aiden part of a day and she's already pretty sure he's not a useful gague for normal.

"It was only two stories. All I would have done is broken my legs."

(no subject)

Date: 2012-08-12 02:59 am (UTC)
sweetmotherofgod: (8)
From: [personal profile] sweetmotherofgod
"I hate hospitals."

Yes, more than she hates this place. It doesn't have the sterility, the smell, the heavy hanging fug of people who are dying or should be dying. But there's really no reason for her to tell him that. She watches the coal of his cigarette instead, the glow of it on his face and hand.

"Anyway, I had stuff to do."

(no subject)

Date: 2012-08-12 03:18 am (UTC)
sweetmotherofgod: (7)
From: [personal profile] sweetmotherofgod
There it goes. Like a switch being flipped, whatever she'd left open enough that she's even talking to him about this stuff slams closed. Eyes back on the moon.

It was a stupid idea, anyway. What was she planning on telling him, exactly?

"Something like that."

(no subject)

Date: 2012-08-12 03:32 am (UTC)
sweetmotherofgod: (take a look)
From: [personal profile] sweetmotherofgod
Sick

fuck.


Her shoulders tighten, her jaw sets, and she doesn't look back at him because if she does she's going to hit him. Not that he doesn't deserve it, but this jumping off roofs talk makes her very aware that he knows this place and she doesn't.

"How he died, or that I found him?"

(no subject)

Date: 2012-08-12 03:58 am (UTC)
sweetmotherofgod: (my son's a homosexual)
From: [personal profile] sweetmotherofgod
When he speaks, she flinches.

She should leave. Slip back through the window and crawl into bed. Crawl into Tracy's, maybe, and warm away this chill. She should leave.

She should, and she doesn't. She lays back, twists onto her side and curls up, mirroring him. There's nobody around, nobody to hear, but she still speaks in a whisper.

"How do you know that?"

(no subject)

Date: 2012-08-12 04:15 am (UTC)
sweetmotherofgod: (1)
From: [personal profile] sweetmotherofgod
She lays silent for a while. There's just the night and the sound of their breathing and the smell of his cigarette while her eyes adjust until the curves and angles of his face swim out of the darkness.

"How?"

Quiet. So quiet.

"It's making me so tired."

(no subject)

Date: 2012-08-12 04:33 am (UTC)
sweetmotherofgod: (5)
From: [personal profile] sweetmotherofgod
"It's not-"

No. She has the sense at least not to say it's not fair, because nothing is and whining about it has never changed that, ever. But it's all still so fresh, and in between the days when she thinks the best thing she can do is grow into someone her father would be proud of and the days when she wishes she just wouldn't wake up, there are days when she wants to burn the whole world down just to see if she feels it.

She reaches for his face, catches herself and drops her hand to the tile beneath them. Watches, watches, watches.

"Help me."

(no subject)

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slow_burn: (Default)
Aiden Donahue

August 2012

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