Title: Stupid Mistakes
Summary: He was just sitting there and taking everything she said. And it made her sick.
Point of View: Ashelin
Rated: T for Teen or PG-13

A/n: I really do like this pairing. And I'm so glad to do something not. Centered. Around. Jak. OMIGOD yay. I'm pretty sure you can tell where this is in the game. If not, go play it again. Anyways, this is the first time I've ever really written Ashelin or her interaction with Torn so here's your warning. The end. Go read.

.-.-.-.-.-.

"You're an idiot."

Two misty blue eyes, almost too bloodshot to tell their true color, glanced upwards. Then, as if they had never had been pointed her direction in the first place, or for that fact ever before in their lives, back down they went. There was nothing to stare at really. His desk was unusually clean, void of any paperwork, maps, flyers, reports--you name it, it used to be there. Not now, though.

"Did you hear me?" Ashelin asked, taking a few more daring strides towards him to place her hands upon the slab of wood he seemed to adore and her weight upon them. A pair of full red lips curled slightly in disgust. "You. Are. An. Idi--"

"Shut up," hissed out his voice. "I do not need to hear that from you."

"Too goddamn bad," was her sharp response, "because I'm going to keep saying it! You're an idiot!" She let out a laughed, a sound that held no humor and no remorse. "You know what? That felt pretty damn good. I think I'll say it one more time! You're an idiot!" Pushing herself from the table, and it closer to him, she began prancing around his little hideout. "A stupid, dense, imbecilic dumb-ass!" Stopping, she turned on her heel and threw her hands back onto the smooth surface of his desk, fingers spread, and smiled an amused-with-oneself smile. "Mar, are you a moron."

As she ranted, she kept on an eye on his head as it drifted lower and lower and those pointed shoulders of his rose higher and higher. The two fists that lay on the table began to shake. She sure was making him mad. And, personally? She couldn't be prouder of herself.

"What, you have nothing to say to that?" she asked smugly in mock surprise, leaning slightly closer. "For once the almighty Torn doesn't have a comeback?" And apparently he didn't. He just sat there, trembling with rage, and took it. He took everything she threw at him and just let it sink right in. It make her sick.

"You know," she said in a cold tone that held none of the fake humor she was conveying a moment before, "I used to look up to you--admire you even. Can you believe that? Every night you'd tell me what was wrong with this world, and I'd just eat it on up." Again she removed her weight from the table, this time in a slow, drawn out manner. "I didn't know then you were merely spoon feeding me canned yakkowshit."

"He was going to kill you," was his evened response. More like his excuse.

She scoffed, and loud.

"When has a fallen soldier ever stopped you before?" she cried. "Hell, I bet you've sent Jak to his death just to clean up your mess."

"That's different," his eyes rose a little to meet hers, "and you know it."

"It's not different, Torn!" Her hands slammed back onto the table. This caused him to shoot out of his chair and mimic her motion ten-fold, causing the table to shake under her palms.

"It is to me!" he shouted.

And that hung there for a moment, just floating in the air over their heads, letting it sink in slow.

It seemed to hit him first, the rage slowly seeping from his face and muscles relaxed. He held her gaze for a moment longer before looking away and, after retrieving the chair he had knocked to the floor, sat back down like nothing had just happened.

"I think it's time you left, Ashelin," he told her as he laced his fingers through one another and set his chin upon them. It was the tone he used with his troops, one that assumed you'd do as he said one way or another.

"Did you mean that?" she asked, never one for following orders she didn't give herself. He seemed to think that was funny, giving a loud exhale of breath that she knew was his way of laughing.

"No, Ashelin," he said, rising again, this time much slower--with more purpose. "I didn't mean it." Then he walked past her and towards the door, obviously deciding if she wasn't going to leave, he was. She followed him with those green eyes of hers, turning to watch him as he passed. He must have felt her gaze on him because he stopped, right before the door. It opened anyways, ready for him to pass on his merry way, but he didn't and after a moment of hanging, he looked back at her. "I didn't mean it and I gave up everything I've ever tried to do for nothing."

And with that he left, taking the stairs as slowly as he always had, and she was the one left alone in the Underground. Raking out a long sigh, she let her head drop, palms coming up to knead her temples. Minutes passed and it soon became painfully obvious he wasn't intending on coming back. So, taking his now vacant spot behind the desk, Ashelin placed her head in her hands, still not sure all of this was actually happening.