Notes from Mama Lobster: addictions abound, children! Named for "Blinding" by Florence + the Machine.
Blinding
== Jade: feel everything
His fingers are hurried as they trace her skin, pushing her neck to one side so he can examine her shoulder. She has to hold her mass of hair up and away; if he can't see her, it makes him nervous.
The ritual started years ago, when Dave first started showing symptoms. He would worry until she got home, staring emptily into the walls, greeting her with bleary eyes and clammy hands. Sometimes he'd be high, sometimes he wouldn't. No matter what, he desperately needed to see her. She'd take his hands and run them over her body, trying to prove that she was intact, that her blood was within her skin and her bones were set. Dave would only exhale once he was satisfied that she was uninjured, and bend down to kiss her neck.
It's different now, she thinks. It's desperate. Once upon a time it was daring, almost sexy for her to stand bare in front of him and let him search her body. It was a game. Yes, it calmed his nerves, but mostly it was a time for them to play and bond and remember how far they've come in the years since the creation of the universe.
She winces as he flexes her wrist just a little too roughly. No, Dave, it's not broken. Let it go.
This definitely isn't fun or flirty. He's genuinely concerned that she's hurt. In this moment, years after the danger has passed, he really, truly believes that they could die at any time.
That thought traps her breath in her lungs.
== Dave: feel nothing
Her spine seems to be in working order, which is amazing considering it was out of her body only a moment ago in Lohac. He tries so hard to ignore her screaming in his head, the ringing of his ears as the explosion rattled him down to his bones.
The feel of Jade's unbroken skin is helping. She is slight, but strong like fire and anything but fragile. More than anything she is whole.
Literally.
He kind of wants to laugh at that, but he knows how manic that would sound right now. Manic is pretty fucking lame, and he's been lame enough already. Be cool, Strider.
Her arms are ok. Hips are ok. Knees bending fine, probably better than his do at this point.
Wait.
Wait.
What the ever-loving fuck is that?
== Dave: calm down
Fuck off.
== Jade: panic
"Dave, talk to me! I need you to tell me where we are right now."
Shit. Shit shit shit she totally forgot. It was just an accident, tripping over a cart and slicing her ankle on the sharp metal edge. Here it is, a stupid, shallow cut, but under his fingers it must feel like death.
At least that's what she thinks, as he clenches his teeth and recoils from her touch. She has no way of knowing what it is he sees; only that it is too much for him to handle right now and she is so, so stupid not to warn him in the first place.
"Dave, please, please, I'm here. Let me help you." He jerks away from her with a hiss.
"Get out of the way. I need to get to the bathroom." his whisper is louder than intended, she thinks, or maybe that's just her wishing she hadn't heard it. There's blood on his fingertips and her ankle is stinging in pain again.
"No, stay here. I'll get you a klonopin." She tries to leave, but his fingers close around her arm. It's too tight, and she starts to lose feeling. He's growling, spine arched and feral, and she knows that a klonopin isn't what he's looking for.
== Dave: find that hit
It's 20 fucking feet away from him and he could be there in 7.2 seconds, if Jade wasn't so fucking insistent of staying in his way as she bleeds.
He can't move her too roughly, because if he does she'll fall to fucking pieces and he'll be left alone to reset the whole thing and hope it goes better next time. What a crock of shit this destiny thing is, dealing him a queen high while the game gets a flush every time.
How exactly does she manage to speak, he wonders… her lips barely cling to the jaws that hold them. It's all sorts of wrong. It's on a fucking holocaust level of wrong to watch everyone break again and again and again and have to pretend he's ok with fixing it.
No, he needs the white plastic bag hiding in the bathroom. One inhale and she'll be back together, and they can dance and fuck and feel like nothing could ever touch them again. He needs that more than he would ever admit to anyone, and he needs it before he starts bleeding with her. If he doesn't get it right now, they will both fucking die and she still doesn't want to move her ass.
== Jade: Strife!
There is no time for fighting, because Dave is past her already. He's fast. He can flashstep when he wants to, and there's absolutely nothing she can do about it anymore. He's done it before she even knows he's gone.
The sound his snorting makes cuts deep, and lingers in the air long after the moment has passed. It's a disgusting noise on every level, one that makes Jade queasy and insecure. She's defeated now. The next few hours are lost.
== Jade: reconcile
It's futile, she knows, but she's not one to just give up. His mouth tightens to a thin line as he stares into the mirror, hands shaking as he leans all his weight into them. He stabilizes, albeit slowly.
She pulls a bathrobe around herself quickly. Here, under the fluorescent light and Dave's desperation, she's feeling terribly exposed.
He looks wild as ever, ready to attack. Every muscle in his body twitches as she watches, his fingers flexing and curling against the white marble sink.
"Dave?" well, that sounded meeker than she wanted it to. He doesn't answer anyway.
"Dave." Her voice is stronger this time. She needs to get through to him. "Are you okay?"
He barks. Maybe it was meant as a laugh, but there is no humor in it.
"I'm alive, aren't I? What more do you want from me?"
She doesn't know how to answer, not really. She wants him to be better than okay, better than alive… No, she doesn't say that, that sounds stupid even in her head. Instead she reaches out to touch his shoulder.
"Come to bed?"
Dave turns to look at her, his face as deadpan as ever. His pupils are wide and all consuming, overpowering any other emotion he might have shown. Jade can't help but think of a cat before a kill.
He doesn't say a word as he brushes past her to the living room. The bed is too much for him on nights like these; he always ends up alone on the couch.
It was always a futile attempt, and Jade knew it even before she approached him by the sink. She had accepted her defeat in those moments of silence as she sat on the bedroom floor.
Somehow that doesn't help the disappointment that follows.
== Jade: ask for help
John is easy. All she has to do is pick up the phone and listen to him yammer for a little bit. He insists that she's overreacting, and that everything is fine, but he's wanted to visit anyway. Dirk is a little different.
Jade's brother-in-law never made much sense to her. He sits there, staring blankly at the TV in the midst of his hurricane apartment upstairs, weapons and puppets and take-out trays littering every inch of the floor. How could he be so completely bizarre and yet somehow so imposing? More often than not she is able to find a way to relate to him, but the gravity of this situation easily outweighs her bond with the enigma on the couch; she can only see him as the foreign presence he is.
"So, um…" she begins, unsure of where to go. She could stop here, if she wanted. She's just say she was looking for him to return her rifle, giggle, and be gone. It would be a whole lot easier.
"What is it, kid?" He takes a swig of beer, still facing the screen. She shifts slightly, uncomfortable.
"Look," she starts, pausing to swallow her pride, "Dave's been in trouble lately. He comes home hurt sometimes and I don't think he listens to me very well anymore."
He only has to turn slightly to look at her, but the intense scrutiny of his gaze causes her to fall silent anyway. The floor is suddenly completely fascinating, and she finds herself admiring it, looking for anything to focus on besides her brother-in-law. There's an obscene looking puppet sprawled over a set of shuriken on the floor near her injured foot. That's one deathtrap she'll have to avoid on the way out.
"You want me to talk to him?" she glances to him; his face still hasn't changed in the slightest. She nods, quicker and more enthusiastically than she would have liked. Her hair shakes out behind her.
He takes another sip of beer, eyeing her intently but saying nothing. She shifts again.
"So… will you?"
He doesn't say anything, but slowly rises from the couch. He brushes past her as he moves, rummaging through the kitchen cupboard for something she can't see. Finally he slams a box down on the counter.
"For your foot." He mumbles, before grabbing his beer and leaving the room. Jade moves to the counter, finding a box of alcohol swabs and medical tape waiting for her. She smiles to herself; honestly, he could just come out and say that he's worried.
Still, does this mean he's actually going to talk to Dave?
…why does he have a first aid kit in the kitchen?