Armed and Dangerous

Barriers…  He could relate to that, though he was often the one losing grip on them.  Barriers meant privacy for other people, meant safety.  And whether he wanted to or not, he trespassed.  And invaded his own barriers.  He had been taught to control it.  He was still young when the warlock had sat him down, told him how to clear his mind.  And he was young when a witch laid a hand on his head, spoke the words and cleared the world for a moment.   But barriers were not existent.  Not in his world.  And now he knew it wasn’t a part of hers either.   There was that familiar feeling from before, a particular darkness that she had, accompanied by—memories?  He was glancing at her curiously, waiting for permission, for her to ask anything, to say something.  But she said nothing.  And nothing was said when she took off the coat, a pause in her movements.  A jumble of thoughts rushed at him, too much to decipher, and hushed at the tail end of them.  Joseph held his breath, just then spying the dark bruising.  The way she moved around what he assumed were other injuries.   He brought his gaze to hers as she spoke.  He could feel her words.  The emphasis on the last word Karina offered.  Helpless meant the shadows and monsters, the crosses on the walls, the hollow sound of freedom.  Yes, he knew that feeling well.  He knew it because he had seen it through her eyes too.  With purposefully slow steps, he moved to her.   “Yes,” Joseph said, “Often.” When he was close enough, he took her hand, tentatively, still keeping his eyes on hers.  He wouldn’t ask her where those had come from.  They had only just met, after all.  But in this case, would it have mattered anyway?  She had gotten to see glimpses of his life.  Did strangers apply anymore?  There was no handbook for this, no article about it.  No piece of advice.  He simply knew she understood, on level, of who he was.  And he could understand her.   “I used to be tired of it.  There was no real escape.  There was always someone to hear.  There was no sharing.  I heard everyone and no one heard me.”  He covered her hand with his other one.  The smell of coffee drifted in the air, mingling with thoughts.  You know something about that, don’t you?  Those barriers.  

When he stepped towards her, she froze, her first instinct rising to back up, to maker herself as small as possible, a smaller target so it would hurt less. But his steps were slow, sure, gentle, even his voice and the way that his eyes found hers so easily. She wanted to tell him no at first, to push that softness away because she didn’t deserve it, she wasn’t worth it. But perhaps it was the novelty of it, of how when her eyes met his all that pain, those cries of sorrow, even her own thoughts seemed as deep and serene as the darkest ocean. Wading in it. 

Her hand felt so light in his, and if she took the care to look at them she’d see how pale they were despite her skin tone, but he covered it with his, warm and gentle and- God, had it been so long that she’d felt that? He was so soft with her, broken soul and all and as she looked at him she saw the reflection of it. They had missing and torn pieces of a life known to everyone but themselves. Solitude was their constant companion, and for her, a downfall. 

The sharing. Once, perhaps some time ago she’d thought she could share it, that part of her that was so dark and ugly but in her fear she locked it away and in turn locked herself away. She had brought nothing but pain and death into the world and without him with her now... she might have left it in that way. To right the wrongs that she caused in her wake, and just as if heaven had granted her redemption.... Her thoughts brought her back to him, Tyler, the name masked in her guilt, drowning in it and she parted her lips to apologize... And the faces of all those souls, the harbingers coming to feast on a meal that in some sick and twisted way she had led haunted her, adding to her collection of midnight horrors...

        “Can you hear it?! 

                                                        They’re screaming! 

                                            And 

       it's because of you!

                               You did this! You’re the reason!”

“I’m not good for you,” Karina whispered, stepping in to him as if it were a secret, as if those monsters that constantly waited for her could hear. “I’m not good for anyone,” but the pull between them, that kept her on the precipice of her breath moved her even closer, her eyes slipping only to fall on his lips, brushing them with hers, her mind still open to his.

“That’s not true.... I’ve done some... I really fucked it all up, okay? I deserved it.”

A small chuckle rises from him as he walks further inside the room.  There is a type of eeriness to it, he’d have to admit.  Something from an 80′s horror movie, he’d imagine.  He had certainly stayed in worse throughout his years, even recently, as the rundown hotel down the street was a testament to that.  So it doesn’t bother him at all.  “I’ll take your word for it,” he responds, turning around to face her.   There’s leftovers, pieces of something around her.  He doesn’t bother reaching out further than that, just whatever he catches in the space between them.  He recalls the place she had recalled earlier; the image of the railroad and dark, thick forests.  Perhaps it’s something along those lines.  He won’t pry, though, he supposes he’s done enough of that for tonight.  But there’s something that catches her attention and he hears an echoed whisper, something hellish, something much like the ones he had heard before.   But she smiles at him and it’s quiet for but a moment.  He clears his throat before he answers her, shrugging and catches the sheepish smile he’s offering her before she can see it.  “Nah, just black coffee is fine for me.” He leans against the wall, watching her for a few moments before turning back to the room.  He’s not quite observing the room as much as he’s thinking to himself.  The brief time they shared in the car—feeling what it was like to be her, if only for a short while.  He had been able to do that before but it had always been one sided—she got to know him too and maybe that’s what is different this time.  Stranger but welcomed.   “Clairvoyant, I think it’s called,” he says automatically and snaps his head up, realizing she hadn’t said the words aloud.  “Sorry,” he mumbles.  

“S’alright-” Karina chuckled and pulled the small bag of coffee she had stolen from the hotel lobby the day before, ripping the small plastic until the scent of coffee, however bitter it was, reached her nose. She poured the contents into the filter and filled the machine with water before finding cups that would work best for them, cleaning them again with the bottom of her shirt. 

“I’ve never had much of barriers anyway,” at least not mental ones, “Didn’t really know how to control any of this.” She moved to take off her coat on her way back to him, passing slightly to toss the material on the bed but the process was difficult. There was a thought to curse herself for not going to at least the pharmacy to get some painkillers but even the thought of that was enough to send her reeling. 

Karina slowly pulled the coat off and set it down, turning away from him so he didn’t see her wincing until she released a heavy breath in her triumph. Maybe there was a bruised rib, a sprained wrist, more- she had to guess that with the adrenaline of the night and finding companionship in the mind of a stranger, it allowed her to forget. To forget for just a moment that she wasn’t such a fuck up. 

God, she was tired.

It took for that moment to realize, the weight of her coat now allowing her to feel her own strength how weak she really was. The heaviness of her thoughts, her fears, even her own skin was too painful to bear and she was lost in it, in that moment. And how selfish of her to drag someone else into her misery... But as the saying goes. For the company. 

There’s a small chuckle he allows escape, an odd lighthearted note to a rather odd and dark evening, he supposes.  She leads him into the hotel.  She lives here—for now, he’s gathered so far.  Anything else, he’d have to search for, which he’s not interested in the moment.  Instead, he follows as she takes him there.   Along the way, he thinks of the chances of meeting someone like her—someone (dare he say) like-minded?  At least, there is stain that matches his in some ways, something that cannot be erased.  Perhaps built upon someday but for now it remains and he’s always been all right with it; lived with it.  Now there is another he can compare something with, where the contrasts don’t differ all that much.   He catches something before they reach her door.  A fury and fear, bruised skin and a resignation of the darkest sort.  Joseph finds himself looking at her with some question.  Drifting thoughts often came with no context, just the naked impressions and he doesn’t often try to decipher them unless he has to.  In this particular case, however, he wants to but holds himself back, hand stuffed back into his jacket pocket and feeling for the cigarette pack there.   Something had happened before he had met her at the bar.  Before all this.  And it had been in the recent past.  The thoughts are fresh with melancholy and a defeated tone.  Joseph only analyzes what she leaves in the space between them and doesn’t attempt to dive any further.  What she’s left is up to interpretation and he won’t pursue it unless it’s offered.   Her hands shake ever so slightly as she opens the door and he has the thought to cover them, quietly brush the tension away but she opens it before he can overcome the hesitation.  The door opens and she pushes through, welcoming him inside.  Joseph nods to her, a small smile upon his lips as he shuffles forward.   “Thank you—it’s not that bad as some I’ve been across, trust me,” he says with some amusement and walked further inside.  He turned around to face her, offering a small shrug.  “I get to spend time with someone like me.  Guess you could say nothing else really matters.”

“-Well, don’t put it against a black light,” Karina adds as she moves into the dusty room, tossing her keys on the kitchen counter before turning to face the rest of the small condo style ‘home-away-from-home.’ She looked across him, glancing only in his direction as she inspected her suite, something out of one of those old style horror movies where the style of the Seventies never left. From the pale painted orange walls to the dimensional patterns of flowers caked against the upholstery. There wasn’t much of a living room apart from a single chair and a T.V., and the bed was set just against the wall on the corner next to the doorway to the bathroom. It really wasn’t meant to be a place of lodging for anyone sane enough to get an Airbnb, but there was something safe and quaint about these motels. 

Hell, at least the owners wouldn’t be too mad about having to clean blood out of the carpet, it would blend in with the past stains of everyone else. And there was a certain comfort in being in a place of death like this, a place where lonely hearts came to pass the time, whether at the end of a rope or in the arms of a companion. 

At least they would welcome her with open arms. 

Karina finds herself distracted, the whispers of the long since dead catching her attention enough to pull out of it with a shake of her head and an apologetic smile tossed his way. “...Sorry,” she takes a deep breath, “It’s noisy.” Her eyes move to him, hesitating just before meeting his gaze before turning quickly to head into the kitchen- although it was merely a step from carpet to tile. “The coffee. So, are you a cream and sugar man?” 

There’s a glimmer in her eyes when she opens them, something reflected back that he recognizes and he knows what it entails.  A spark of understanding, set aflame within himself.  And it’s shared.  (For the first time, perhaps; something like a secret—untold but a joyous kind.)  Her memories, thoughts, feelings, leave a mark somewhere inside his mind, imprinted there unlike anything he’s felt before.  And he’s fine with it. She leans forward and he finds himself doing the same.  His name is spoken and he feels it pass her lips.  He means to capture it off her mouth before another voice breaks the air and he’s looking at the driver with some malice, though he shrugs it off as Karina moves away.  He can feel the annoyance from the driver and slight awkwardness from her as she pulls away.  He gets out of the car and he feels the cold hit him almost instantly.  He sighs and can see his breath as he stuffs his hands inside his jacket and feels the cigarette pack there.  The car drives off into the dead city night and he still stands on the road. (Perhaps he’s annoyed that there had been something like euphoria just moments ago and it had been disturbed.  Or maybe it’s the fact that they would have to part ways now, away from a woman’s name that ironically meant love.  Away from shared memories and a connection.  And that’s what got him wanting a smoke.) He readies himself to say goodbye.  Maybe say something along the lines of It was nice thinking with you or something terrible like it.  Then walk off into the night, towards the hotel just a block over and smoke the way there.  He’d still feel her in the back of his mind, like one note, unwavering.  As he turns to say his farewell, she speaks and he’s staring at her again.  At her proposal, he realizes that maybe he’s smiling and part of him tries to suppress it, just a bit, with no avail.   He ducks his head, tongue in his cheek, before he says anything.  Nodding, he looks back up at her, shifting his weight to another foot and breathing in the night air.  The world is quiet again.  Like waking up.  A reset, almost.   “Yeah,” he shrugs his shoulders and chuckles, “Coffee and thinking sounds really good right about now.”

He’d text Alec, tell him he’ll in tomorrow and don’t come looking for him (because he would).  He moves forward until he’s in front of her, leaving a respectable distance between them still.  Not that it seems to matter, as they had been so much closer before; not physically but on another level.  He looks at her and wonders if stranger applied anymore.   He offers an arm, more in jest than anything and smirks.  “Lead the way.”

“Shove it.”

Karina chuckles and turns, shaking her head at the joke but begins to lead him into the hotel.

It’s not much, definitely nothing to be proud of but for some reason she knew that he wouldn’t judge her for her dwellings, being a creature of the darkness himself- Karina knew that he’d understand. Which should’ve frightened her, shouldn’t it? Did they skip all the necessary precautions of meeting someone new and just exposed the colors of their minds, of their souls? Was she searching for something to feel validated? To feel something again other than the constant pain, to feel anything?

There were those bruises, though. Sharp and terrible from her previous run in with.... she didn’t want to think about that. But those bruises were even deeper than the bluish marks on her pallid flesh, the scars of her punishing love and she wondered once again if this was another way for her to escape from herself, from dealing with the horrors that she had caused by just being alive. Or rather, something like it.

But he showed her that she wasn’t alone. Looked into her own abyss and found his, like one of those magical pools from The Magician’s Nephew- was this something that he meant by portals? Realms? Their connection, whatever it was, showed her a light that she had never knew, a gentle touch that she had never felt, was it joy? Was it infatuation? Was it that other blessed feeling that she had now only known as a curse?

Perhaps meeting him before she decided to... end it, was her saving grace? Perhaps the Saints above would decide that now, now that she had found the bottom, a sinner at the end of her hope could die feeling the grace of God? Karina found herself laughing at that, pushing the thought away in hopes that the man behind her didn’t pick it up, the confession of the worlds worst Catholic.

Karina pulls out her keys, the gaudy leather circlet held tightly in her trembling hand as she pushes the key into the doorknob.... The trembling. How could she have forgotten that? No, not forgotten, it came back. She allowed herself to remember their touches, the moments where she felt her body so intimately, through his, through hers and she had not trembled once... And that thought alone was frightening.

She opened the door with a grunt, almost stumbling from the effort to push the heavy door and the locking up of her joints, the adrenaline borrowed to push through the midnight horrors were catching up with her, and the haunts of the night were slowly drifting in. “I-I’m sorry..” Karina chuckled weakly, “Welcome to my humble abode.”

Void

She pushes the money away and he slowly withdraws, wanting to protest though he catches the short refusal in the air.  There’s a few moments he has to look away, putting the cash back within his wallet and into his pocket.  But it’s not long but she’s hasn’t turned back to him.  Not yet.  His eyes flicker over her hair, the hem of her coat, down to her hand that had captured his just a few minutes ago.  He wants to talk about it, learn more, despite the dark calls of another world, drenched in malice.  The world she must occupy at all times.  At all times, except for— Her eyes catch his and he has to offer a small smile. Her question, however, causes him to frown in thought, glancing away as he searches his memories for a time like this.  The straight answer is no, not really.  A witch has calmed him before, placed that piece of his mind to sleep for a time, but nothing—shared?  Is that the word?  A shared connection through a stranger, upon meeting among plain drinks, stale air and wooden stools. Now they sit in the backseat of a car, quiet music playing on the radio, guitar strings thrumming in the background, and he can feel his mind wandering towards her again.   Joseph returns his gaze to her and shakes his head, slight smile still lining his lips.  Her own smile causing stirrings of something akin to infatuation and wonder.  This time, he doesn’t withdraw, despite his habit to do so.  It’s by chance, to stumble upon someone to hush the world around?  Because it’s never happened like this.  There are ways to calm it, lower the volume, switch the atmosphere within his mind, but the mute everything else, revel in something—euphoric?  It’s different.   “No,” he says quietly, leaning into her, “It hasn’t.  Not like this.”   Hesitantly bringing a hand to the side of her face, Joseph rests his forehead against hers and closes his eyes.  His holds his breath at the touch, no longer restraining his mind.  It rushes, like a gentle wave upon a beach, over the surface of hers, just enough for her to know it’s him, to let him ask if it’s all right.  He sees crosses on the wall, hears the sounds of hymns and angered cries, feels the burn of white powder, tastes the bitter chemicals upon her tongue, smells the fermented drinks, left over night, knows the intent of wayward monsters.  Just enough to understand a piece, maybe.   So he shares his own.  Watching the crows within the fields, hears the tired and defeated laughter at the word ‘freedom’, feels the calm of a mermaid’s song, tastes the iron in his mouth, smells fresh soil as rainwater pours down, knows of human’s first response.  He settles the feelings, wrapped up to offer her.   Opening his eyes, he peers at her.  Did you see that?

She flinches at the movement of his hand, a wandering thought flickering over to the gnashing of teeth. Of fang and fur and fear and anger and she expected pain. Waited for it, and oddly accepting it as it was the only feeling that she knew, that she was accustomed to. But it was soft, his touch, his voice, his mind as it smooths over hers and the warmth spreads through her veins, the feeling a distant memory of something taken under the covers of night, tucked away in a deep and cold corner- to forget. To sink. 

But this feeling lifts her, it pulls her back between both of their memories, their thoughts, their wants and fears. And she remembers things that the drugs allowed her to forget but she is able to guide them, pushing past the memories that wound, the ones still fresh and she feels the scar on her stomach, a hand on her neck, a snarl in her ear. But the pain is distant still, its that cooling rush of his mind over hers and perhaps there is a touch of cold lighting her cheek. Perhaps distant her own hand moves to touch him, brushing over the bristles of his cheek and his cologne is hinted on her lips again. 

Karina follows him into his memories, almost like dreams as vivid as they were and as many, and she learns that he has lived long. So long... And alone yet not alone but...

And that sorrow. Their shared sorrow joins in such a harmony that she is still smiling and crying and smiling and laughing even. To find such joy and humor in it.... It was like believe that you were in the dark for so long by yourself and reach to find another. 

“Yes.” She says out loud, blinking thickly as her tears blur his face but never those eyes. Karina licks her lips, still tasting the sweet and deep taste from his memory and finds herself wondering if there is more, leaning forward... Needing to...

“Joseph...”

“Alright, love birds,” The driver announces, clearing his throat and slamming the car to a jostling stop, “Here’s your stop.”

“Oh, right, yeh-” She pulls back and the heat flushes her face, which she finds odd. Not once had she ever blushed like this, not since.... Well, it’s been a while. Karina gets out the car and waits for the not-so-stranger to follow before their ride disappears into the night. Her lips part to say something, anything and is grateful for the lasting touches of the connection that she can still feel him, his thoughts, his heat, his wonder, his hand on her cheek...

“Hey,” a sound comes out and she’s biting the inside of her mouth, “I, uhm... I don’t have any thing to drink but coffee but maybe we could... I don’t know. Talk,” she laughs, “Think?”

“.... Silence.”

For a moment, she’s smiling back at him.  And then he’s jerked towards her and he’s so confused, baffled at the sudden touch, her hand grasping his and he’s staring right at her.  He catches the skittering thoughts, an image of a rather terrifying monster, its hand outstretched towards—oh, him.  He takes a breath and allows her—his thoughts to settle as a calm washes over him.  The touch offers a certain insight, a window to look right into.  But instead, Joseph’s simply relishing in this new, peaceful world brought by them.  Something as simple as eye contact.   “Yeah,” he answers back and he has to realize he’s smiling the moment he breathes it out. (Because, truly, it is.  Whatever it is.  It’s serene and quiet, like a filter has swept over his mind.  All he can feel is the space they occupy.) There’s a moment when he thinks she may just wave him off.  Joseph wouldn’t blame her—they are strangers in the dead of night.  Strangers with a odd parallel, unlike the usual strings of common interests.  Different.  And yet, with reality trickling back, he realizes it may sound out of place and even suspicious to another.  He’s lived a life with side glances and presumptions forced upon him.  Not that some are unjustified, with his life since Kai.  Well…  He doesn’t want to go there.   But she says yes and he’s not sure why it catches him off guard, despite himself.  He smiles in response, nodding and not keeping his eyes off her.  But she looks away, and with it, the peace that was offered only moments ago and her hand.  He hears those new whispers, the calls, the small worry of the driver over expenses.  Joseph follows her into the back of the car, easing into his seat and closing the door.   “I’m over that way.  A hotel—it’s not far,” he nods and gives a small shrug.  The street sounds familiar, anyway.  If not, he doesn’t mind walking the rest of the way.  The driver begins pulling away from the curb and down the road.  Joseph ignores the jig-jagged thoughts within the small space. He pulls out his wallet and hands her the difference in some bills.  “Let me know if that’s enough.”  He’s staring now.  Again.  He’s got more questions, wants to reach out, read her but restrains.  “Just passing through.”

“It’s fine, so am I.”

Karina pushes his cash back to him and steals a few glances, attempting to ignore the warmth that he offers. Not just the touch of his hand against hers but the constant whirring of his mind brushing against hers, the physical heat that thrums off of him and the hope to catch that gaze again, to fall back into that silence that she had only tasted a hint of when she was deep in the throes of her addictions.

It scared her, yes. That familiarity and that desire to follow him down the rabbit hole, whatever that meant. The shimmer of safety was tempting, damaging even if she had allowed herself to give in, even for a moment- but it had been so long since she felt... safe?... Alive? She didn’t know how to feel exactly other than feel, to feel everything all at once. It had been so long since she didn’t feel...

Alone.

She felt the heat of his gaze lingering on her and it was a loosing battle to not meet it, besides... her hand was back on his and in that confined space it was comforting to ease into the slowing silence. The voices that constantly threatened her sanity and health easing back into the quiet murmur and there she was again, into those warm brown eyes illuminated by the passing lights.

And sorrow.

                   And pain.

Karina inhales sharply, the process of her body reminding her to breathe and the connection deepens. She smells what he can’t because of proximity, his cologne and deep and masculine scent, the slight chill of her own hand on his, they way her own face shines in the city lights. It’s beautiful and it’s haunting, but she can’t look away, and she doesn’t.

“Has... this ever happened to you?”

But she knows he has questions, she could feel it pressing at the back of his mind like the calm before a storm, but she’s smiling- weak and pale, but it’s there. She’s not completely sure why but there is a taste of happiness and want and need and laughter and confusion and awkwardness. Perhaps it is her own inability to fully control her mind but she’s struggling with attempting to decipher whose emotions is whom.

She leans forward and somehow tastes alcohol on her tongue, it was for secrecy- she rationalized.

There’s a moment before she answers him, quiet images of something else flashes before his eyes.  A particular fear is attached to it; near a forest’s edge, dark and forbidding, along a railroad.  It’s only for a few moments but it’s already burned into his mind.  He doesn’t realize he had been holding his breath until he needed air again and he’s staring right back at her again, wishing to ask more.  But he senses she has some questions of her own and they taste…warm.  Unspoken, passing thoughts and he doesn’t want to miss any of them, suddenly.   She begins to speak and he finds himself leaning forward, ready to hear it.  But the sudden break of their connection came at the sound of a door swinging open.  He’s still looking at her, perhaps hoping she’d glance back, but he’s suddenly hearing the voices of the world once again, the raw thoughts of humanity.  He closes his eyes briefly, settling back in his seat with some disappointment and a bit of irritation as he hears the bartender give the last call.  Quietly, he watches as she offers the barkeep the money and nod at both of them.  There’s another moment, when she’s looking at him for a few seconds longer and he thinks to stop her, ask her to wait up.  Maybe he should.  Whatever passed between them isn’t quite lost—he’s found someone like him.  Different, in a lot of ways, but like kin on a certain level.  Something shared.  (Fuck it.) Joseph stands, downing the rest of his drink, and the voices succumb to whispering.  He gives what he owes and then some, leaving it upon the counter and waving.  “Thanks,” to the bartender.  He’s not rushing but perhaps he’s taking longer strides than necessary.  Out the door, he can see her standing there and he folds his lips.  Stuffing his hands within his jacket and breathing out into the cold air, he walks up beside her, keeping a respectful distance between them.  He hopes to catch her eye but he doesn’t look.  Not yet.  He pulls out his phone, ready to get a ride (a cab because he isn’t willing to handle lighthearted jokes from either Xanthe or Alec tonight).  Light conversation before they parted ways, perhaps?  The thought of offering to share a ride crosses his mind and he thinks about asking her.   And then it speaks, something menacing, something terrible.  He cannot see it but he assumes she can.  Joseph looks at Karina then, finally.  “Is…it here now?”  A shake of his head before he clears his throat.  “Never mind, I didn’t mean—”  A pause.  “Where you headed?  Save some money and we could share the ride.”

Karina was committed to falling back into the dark and the cold when that familiar buzzing shifted across her mind. It curled over her again with that welcoming warmth and it didn’t take much for her to turn towards, almost too quickly but was thankful that he wasn’t looking at her. But the gaze lined him up with the Shade, its trembling body moving closer to the two and that sense of foreboding burned harsh. 

“Uh-what?” She blinks hard and slides her perception back to him and he is suddenly smiling. Its confusing and inviting and.... curious, but oddly enough her own lips began to curl on their own, soft and tentative. “Yeh, it’s....” Karina dares a glance back towards the foul creature, now reaching for her, for them and she reaches a hand and pulls the man a few steps away from its hunger, and in turn closer to her. And she’s back in his eyes, basking in that warmth and that silence where not even the destitute soldier could find her. “Man, this is addicting, yeh?” She breaths out, gasping and darkly laughing, finding herself leaning towards him as if that closing of distance had made their... connection?... That more intimate. 

It’s comforting, she thinks, not in words or sounds but in feelings. In the softest of touches, the caresses of sheets and the warmth of another and she catches the curiosity and the pull of his mind, the touches of nervousness... 

There is a thought spared on whether or not they should continue this, on declining his offer. He seemed sweet, his smile sweeter and there could be no doubt in whatever that had brought them together in such a circumstance must have been playing the dozens. But her wallet was light and the buzz of her phone was letting her know that the driver was pulling up halted such wonderings. 

“Um, yeh, uh-sure,” She nods, pulling her gaze away and regretting doing so but the movement allows her the moment to look down at her hand, still holding his and she pulls that away too as the groans of the Shade grows louder. Without much more, the car pulls up, another blessed thanks and she opens the door and escapes inside, “I’m actually at the Best Value on Wilmington, if that’s... that’s not too far from you.” 

He follows her gaze to outside the window with a sense of morbid curiosity and some hesitation.  If the terrors match the voices, he’s sure they are nothing short of horrific.  But there is nothing, just a street in the dead of night.  His eyes flick to her for a moment, watching her as she stares out the window.  Something like resignation.  His eyes close and he allows his mind to wander, brushing over the surface like a feather, careful not to wake anything more.  Joseph then turns his attention to the street once again.   There it stands, a darkness within the shape of a human, watching her.  He blinks and it’s gone again.   For him, he would need to search another plane for these…lost souls.  Joseph could only relate to those of the living, knowing the raw intent of those around him.  To hear those of the dead may have sculpted him in a different way.  A life lined with ghost threads and love lost.  A void, of sorts.  And he listens, piecing together the life she may have led, listens to the voices scratching away in the night, listens when her voice drops as she says she wants it to stop.  He wants to say the same; he’s said it a million times in his own head but knowing better.  Instead, he drinks. Her eyes find his once again.  The bar is silent.  Everything for about a five mile radius is silent.  And he wonders when is the last time she’s had a thought that has nothing to do with the Shades.  She offers her name and he thinks how pretty that is.   “Karina,” he parrots quietly, nodding his head once.  He doesn’t look away, finding a strange sort of solace in her gaze.  It’s quiet and he’s never quite thought about how that would feel before—how that might mean to her.  “Joseph…”   And after another moment, “They cannot pass on then.  You’ve seen their demons.”  His fingers wrap around the glass and he’s tempted to drink again but that would mean to break eye contact and he truly does not wish it.  “I only hear those of the living.  Understand what they are.  When I see, it’s somewhere else…not here.  Another world.”  A pause.  “It’s quiet now, isn’t it?”

That brushing, it was soft, inquisitive and cooling and it couldn’t be anything more than the Psychic pushing against her mental walls, how small those were. She was thankful for that brushing, no where near as intrusive as the haunting claws of her demons, of her horrors and she found herself unable to calm the slow rising shiver beginning in her shoulders despite the jean jacket hanging off of her. How long had it been that she felt something so utterly.... intimate? 

And with a stranger who now seemed less and less so. 

Karina hears her name carry on his lips and her own parts, tasting and testing his name on hers and for some reason she feels guilty. Guilty to enjoy this little piece of harmony, of synchronicity in the silence that surrounded them without feeling drowned in it. It was like escaping into the bridging of dawn, just before the birds woke up and long after the owls tucked themselves in for the day. A cleansing silence that somehow gifted her a feeling she had never known. 

Hope. 

Another world? She thinks on that for a bit, tucking it away in her mind so that she didn’t break the contact and instead drudges up a dark memory of hers. A railroad surrounded by swirling waves of auras and spirits, leading to the thick forest that she had only known in her deepest of seances, too afraid to step deep into the fog. Karina thinks this and pushes the image to her for-front, hoping that the Psychic... Joseph... would catch the image before it weakly shimmered away. 

“It is,” her voice feels almost distant as she takes a deep breath, the weight of their connection was... tempting? “Do you feel-?”

Her question was cut off as the sound of a door interrupted her and she tore away her eyes, catching the annoyed stare of the bartender who started to pack up. “Last call, guys,” He grunted and looked over at her full glass. 

“It’s okay,” she shrugged and set a couple wads of cash on the table, making sure to leave a tip, “I’m done and out of your way.” Pushing herself up and out of the chair, Karina nodded towards both men, lingering over Joseph longer than custom would require and stepped out into the night, shaking her head before pulling out her phone to search for a drive home. 

             so.....

                                                         ....hungry

She knew the whispering voice without needing to look, the same creature that had met her gaze from inside the bar and she suddenly felt cold again now that she had learned that there was warmth. Cold and alone and it would be selfish of her to want to turn around and bury herself into the warmth of that stranger who felt more familiar than she dared to believe. She couldn’t do that to someone. Latch onto their warmth and destroy their lives... 

Again.

“Back in the day I would’ve given you a list, but now... Even just one is too much.”