[ The truth of the matter is... there was only a few serious things in her life that she fights for. Her friends being the absolute core of what makes Ann... well, Ann. Sacrifice wasn't necessarily at the forefront of her mind, but her friends and loved ones came first. Tim had carved a place in her heart that she never even felt was needed. Love, unlike many of the girls in her age group, was a touchy subject for her. Lust and love often interchanged, terrifying her at times to be vulnerable.
She swears, that's why she's tried so hard to strengthen her heart β so maybe it would be okay sharing part of it.
But, this? It brings her back to a moment where she closes up. If anything happened to the people in her life, what would she be? A model, a poor excuse for a hero that couldn't save people? Ann can't pull a costume on and run to save the day β so she rebounds off Tim's real efforts. He fights reality, while she battles in a cognitive world where she knows they'll be the victor. Tim didn't get that luxury β not when he was tore up in front of her.
His words were a glass that shatters and sends her in a million direction. He was sincere, but she still feels conflict. He was reckless, but he did it in good intention. She was worried, but she still feels like she let him down.
But. She does what she can. She helps with anything he needs from her, getting him to the bed was the simplest task so far. ]
You don't have to do it his way. None of this has to be alone. You're not alone, even if you take me out of the equation. [ He has friends, he has trusted allies. Ann feels the stench of defeat on him, the copper of blood stinging the air. When they get to the bed and she offers him just a moment so she could draw a spare comforter β in case he bleeds out β she lays it down for him carefully. ] The apologies... don't feel good. They don't feel reassuring. What if this happens again? It was second nature for you to jump into it, to try and fix this, right?
[ Ann presses her hands into the footboard of her bed, anxiously squeezing it as she looks to him pitifully. His mention of love and his compliment does make her smilem but she has to be firm: ]
I don't want to see you like this again. I know it's selfish, part of the risk of heroics β but I don't want you doing this to yourself. You have so many people who love you and β ... we don't want to lose you. Okay? So, birdboy, you have to be more careful. The next time you show up on my balcony leaving a blood trail, I'm so kicking your ass. I'm serious!
no subject
She swears, that's why she's tried so hard to strengthen her heart β so maybe it would be okay sharing part of it.
But, this? It brings her back to a moment where she closes up. If anything happened to the people in her life, what would she be? A model, a poor excuse for a hero that couldn't save people? Ann can't pull a costume on and run to save the day β so she rebounds off Tim's real efforts. He fights reality, while she battles in a cognitive world where she knows they'll be the victor. Tim didn't get that luxury β not when he was tore up in front of her.
His words were a glass that shatters and sends her in a million direction. He was sincere, but she still feels conflict. He was reckless, but he did it in good intention. She was worried, but she still feels like she let him down.
But. She does what she can. She helps with anything he needs from her, getting him to the bed was the simplest task so far. ]
You don't have to do it his way. None of this has to be alone. You're not alone, even if you take me out of the equation. [ He has friends, he has trusted allies. Ann feels the stench of defeat on him, the copper of blood stinging the air. When they get to the bed and she offers him just a moment so she could draw a spare comforter β in case he bleeds out β she lays it down for him carefully. ] The apologies... don't feel good. They don't feel reassuring. What if this happens again? It was second nature for you to jump into it, to try and fix this, right?
[ Ann presses her hands into the footboard of her bed, anxiously squeezing it as she looks to him pitifully. His mention of love and his compliment does make her smilem but she has to be firm: ]
I don't want to see you like this again. I know it's selfish, part of the risk of heroics β but I don't want you doing this to yourself. You have so many people who love you and β ... we don't want to lose you. Okay? So, birdboy, you have to be more careful. The next time you show up on my balcony leaving a blood trail, I'm so kicking your ass. I'm serious!