Steam

Rain against the hot pavement made steam, rising up through the fingers of water. Seated on the dark shingle, he wasn't watching the steam. His eyes were closed, trying and failing to sort out the jumble his memories had become lately.

He was aware of her scent first, as she floated down through the rain to him, and second of the fingers combing through his hair. He shifted, trying to pretend as if his face was only streaked with rain, and lifted his chin to rest it on the knees he held drawn nearly to his chest. "'S you, ain't it?"

He couldn't look at her, but he knew well the way her brows would be touching together. "Whadda y'mean, it's me? It's me what?"

This wasn't going to be easy, he could tell. Then again, things between them were rarely easy, and he wasn't sure why he had expected this to be any different. He sighed, shifting again, and tucked his eyes so that he wouldn't have to meet hers. "De figure…de woman in all my mem'ries, who keeps savin' me from everyt'in'. 'S you, ain't it? You used Forge's t'ing t'send y'self back dere an' fix it all."

There was a long period of silence where she didn't say anything at all, just pulled her gloved fingers through his hair. As the silence grew, he bit his lip, watching the steam rise off of the driveway far below. When she finally spoke, her voice was distant and almost shamed. "Yeah. Ah did. Ah thought maybe…maybe y'wouldn't have t'hurt so much."

The sound he made was something between a choked sob and a laugh, and shocked through tense shoulders like a gunshot before he lifted his head to finally look at her. "What're you doin' t'me?" There was a tremor in his voice he couldn't chase away, a desperation that made him curl his own nose in derision. "I used t'know where I was goin'. I used t'know why I feel de way I do. But now I ain't so sho' 'f it's b'cause I love you or b'cause you're some guardian angel from my childhood. An' de more I t'ink 'bout it, de less I'm sho' dat I ever knew. Feel like I'm losin' my mind, chere. T'ings used t'be one way, I t'ink, but den dey aren't an' I start t'inkin' dey never were."

Green eyes blinked blankly, stared empty at him for a few too many seconds. "Whut?"

He shook his head, turning to stand and to pull away, to scrub a hand over his face and make his way towards the window that allowed him access to the rooftop he so frequently brooded on. "Y'got t'stop, chere. You got t'leave what's done be, or you're gon' drive me mad. Mebbe I ain't so happy wit' what I used t'be, what happened t'me when I was what I was, but I'm startin' t'like what I am now. Sho' be a shame t'mess it all up."