will you take my hand

Since the moment he laid eyes on her, Dani has surprised him. Her powers have always been incredible, but it didn’t take him any time at all to know just how much more than magic she was. The way she can see, feel, and know beyond the reach of the average person has always intrigued him, but even that doesn’t hold a candle to who Dani is.

Part of him doesn’t understand how she can still be so gentle toward him, even after all this time. Her touch is delicate, and precise. He’d much rather take her hands in his own than let her keep tending to him, but Adam keeps still. He listens instead, wondering how a vision like that made her feel. “You didn’t feel threatened, did you? Didn’t feel like it was… targeting you, for any reason?”

He knows it’s not his place just as well as he knows he doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter how many months they spend apart; Daniela is his priority. Even if it has to be from a distance, he can’t imagine the day she won’t be.

Adam’s gaze pulls back to hers when she mentions the address. “You know it?” It shouldn’t surprise him at this point, but some things can’t be helped. “Would help me out a lot if you told me, yeah.” He watches her play with the bag of vegetables, and the second he wonders if she’s wrestling with something on her mind, she asks if he’s going alone.

“It ain’t nothing I haven’t done before.” He’s less fragile than most, and maybe that’s made him more reckless, but losing this fight is out of the question. Still, it’s natural to want to reassure her. “But if I need to, I can get some help with it.”

It feels too hard to look at him and see every bruise, so she doesn’t, attention on chipped nail polish as she turns the back over and over again in her hands. All of this feels too familiar, and whatever regrets come with it, there’s a greater sense of loss that she’s been doing her best to ignore. She still misses him. Maybe not the moments like this, when he’s scared, and there’s one more monster out there he needs to take care of.

She misses the moments that come after, when she would kiss his bruises like that could make them heal faster, and he would let her believe that it did.

“No.” She shakes her head at the question, one that’s at least easy to answer. It wasn’t about her, at least not this time. She’d just witnessed something she doesn’t think she was supposed to. There are bigger concerns that maybe she should be focusing on, the idea that maybe just looking might bring attention to herself, but it’s not what she fixates on. It’s the worry in his voice when he asks, her wellbeing still a priority somewhere on his list of them.

It doesn’t make any of this easier, and there’s a growing thought that if she looks at him then she’ll just break, forget why she left, ask him if she can stay. So she doesn’t, just nodding her head. A phone call could get her an address, maybe give him a lead, and maybe that’s a reason to tell him no, but it wouldn’t stop him. “I can find out.”

She ignores him, like he’s used to her doing when it comes to his injuries. It’s a familiar insistence that makes him smile, but the memory hurts worse than his injuries do. As much as Adam wishes she wouldn’t worry, he lets himself savor this moment. Maybe he’s looking to much into it, but all of this feels like a sign that Daniela still cares for him as much as she ever did.

A sign that maybe she isn’t as far out of his reach as he thought. But he knows it would be foolish to get his hopes up, and even worse to try and drag Dani back into a life she made clear she doesn’t want, so Adam doesn’t say anything. He lets his memory guide him instead, keeping still as Daniela presses a bag of frozen vegetables against his bruised cheekbone. He can feel the dull ache of it, but the pain doesn’t faze him.

He’s too distracted with what Daniela tells him she saw to notice much else, anyway. His expression shifts to a mix of intrigue and worry, but he’s only worried for her sake. “Black eyes? You see anything else, or was that it?”

Adam has been on their trail for a while, but he’s yet to find the right target. As much as he knows it’s better to take his time on hunts like these, because all it takes is one mistake, sometimes the wait is agonizing. All he wants to do is make this place safe for the people he cares about – Dani most of all.

“Thanks for telling me. You didn’t have to. I appreciate it.” Her power has always been an asset to his hunting, but he never should have gotten her involved. He should have never asked her to help, not even once. “I’m gonna take care of it. Shouldn’t be a problem for much longer.”

Dani keeps the bag pressed to his skin, doing her best to ignore the cold seeping through her fingers, and just how familiar it feels to stand in this position again. It doesn’t escape her that no one else is here, that he’s probably left patching up his wounds by himself, and it’s a painful thing to try and picture, more regret in it than she told herself she’d feel.

“Not much. Just quick flashes, blood and fear and pain... and those eyes.” A small shrug follows, but it’s easier than acknowledging that it had scared her at the time. She hadn’t expected it, distancing herself from that kind of violence and horror the day she left him. It was a sorry reminder that it was still always just around the corner.

And her first reaction had been to call Adam, a habit she thought she’d shaken herself of. Her hand finally pulls back, shifting the bag from hand to hand to try and restore feeling to her fingers. “I can get you the guy’s address if you want it?”

He promises to take care of it, and there would’ve been a time where she took more comfort from that. In the beginning he’d seemed almost invincible, a soldier made of scars and bloodied fists. At some point it had stopped meaning anything except that he was destined to come back with more of them, until one day he didn’t come back at all.

Adam’s not surprised when Dani pulls away from his touch. It leaves an ache in his chest, a longing for when things were different. Back when they were together, back when things were good, he’d use his touch to try and soothe her every worry. Whether it was about him or something else, he would pull her close. He would take her hand, or touch her cheek. It would help him, too. More than she knows.

On the nights he couldn’t sleep, he would stay up just holding her. These days, all he can do is sit on the edge of his bed. All night, just thinking. “Don’t. Don’t worry. This is nothing.” God knows she’s seen worse. For a long time, he tried to keep the worst of it away from her. Eventually it stopped working, and it felt like all Dani ever saw was the worst of it.

She goes right into wanting to take care of him, like she used to. More guilt pours into him over it, knowing this is one of the reasons why she left. She didn’t want to see him continue to tear himself apart, and Adam never blamed her for that. “Yeah, but— it’s alright. It ain’t that bad.” Dani came here for a reason, and he doesn’t want it to be this.

“You still haven’t said why you came over.” She mentioned being worried, but left out the reason why. It might be her magic, but if something was serious enough to motivate her to come all the way to his apartment, he wants to know why. “What were you worried about? You see something? Feel something?”

Dani almost wishes she could listen to him; maybe all of this would be easier if she could just take those words to heart. Don’t worry. This is nothing. And if they could ever settle in with more permanence than maybe she would‘ve been strong enough to stay instead of run. Or at the very least stand in his presence again without feeling that same familiar ache.

They just don’t mean anything more to her than they ever have, and she doesn’t listen or respond with words. Moving past him so she can get to his fridge, a bag of frozen vegetables that numbs her fingers in a stark contrast to the warmth of his hands. It’s never easy to see him hurt, no matter how used to it she should be by now.

“Just let me.”

It’s a small comfort she can’t fully explain to at least do something about it. It’s a reach just to press the cold bag gingerly against that bruise on his cheekbone, a darker and crueler shade than anything she wanted painted on him. That feeling of helplessness was just as bad as the fear, as bad as the violence, and it still felt like a constant cycle of each of those emotions, just being around him again. It was just as easy right now to recall those kinder ones too, how many other nights she’d spent trying to soothe sore muscles with gentle hands.

But he reminds her there was another reason she was here, beyond trying to soothe any of those wounds. “Uh, yeah. Saw something.”

The fear he can read on her face scares him more than anything. Since meeting her, everything Adam’s done was meant to keep her safe; the thought of something having gone wrong while he was off doing something else is gutting. Knots tie in his stomach at the chance that he missed her call when she needed him the most, and the only solace he can take in the heat of the moment is that she looks to be okay.

“Sorry— I just got back in. Is everything okay, are you okay?” For her to seek him out like this after their last conversation, Adam can’t imagine what could have happened. His cuts and bruises go completely forgotten until Dani reaches for them, soft concern woven into her voice. He almost forgot what that sounded like, and with it comes a rush of feelings he should be burying for her sake.

Adam takes her hand instead, his grip gentle and loose enough to pull away from without any trouble, if she chooses. “It’s nothing. Just a couple scrapes.” He peeks his head down the hallway she’s in, checking to make sure no one else is around. “C’mere. Come in,” he says, stepping back to give her the option to move past him. “What’d you call me about? Is something going on?”

The fear fades in slow degrees, until it’s nothing but a dark, lingering shadow in the back of her mind. That persistent and inescapable thought that one of these days she’d have good reason for that terror, that it would be more than just a few cuts and scrapes left behind. She’d thought she could rid herself of it by leaving him, but it was startling how quickly every old feeling came back, buried in too shallow a grave to stay dead.

His hand catching hers is just one more reminder of that. The soft brush of his fingers, how gentle he could be even with how strong he was. It doesn’t help drown out those memories, that illusion that most of a year hadn’t passed since they were anything at all to each other.

“I’m fine,” she tells him, dragging her hand from his as she shakes her head. She hadn’t come here about herself, but for the moment it didn’t seem quite as relevant. "Just worried. For good reason, it looks like.”

The past week has been a blur. In his efforts for distraction and progress, Adam’s done nothing but throw himself into hunting. Getting closer to eliminating the real threat hasn’t been easy, but taking out smaller targets along the way has helped ease him.

The cuts and bruises he’s gotten as a result have never mattered to him. Hunting is all he knows, it’s all he’s good at, and whatever sacrifice it requires has never been too much for him. The aching throb around his cheekbone, where a dark purple bruise has set in, barely registers. He only gave enough consideration to the gashes across his skin long enough to get them cleaned up, and now they’re destined to be forgotten about and scar, like all the rest.

He’s already shifted his focus back on the demons who pose a threat to Daniela. It’s enough of a distraction that he ignores the knocking on his door, figuring it’s not someone who can’t wait until later, until he hears her voice shine from behind it.

His heart jolts before he can think, but Adam is right behind it, moving to his front door with worry written all over his face. When he sees a similar expression in hers, he fears the worst.

“Dani— is everything alright? Are you okay?”

The long drag of silence is more terrifying than Dani wants it to be. The haunting thought ringing too loudly in the back of her head that this will be the time he won’t answer. He won’t come to the door, he won’t be here, she’ll never see him again. It’s an all too familiar terror, a nightmare she’s had too many times laying awake in a bed they used to share.

One that escapes her in a quick breath when the door opens abruptly. Heart dropping into her stomach the second she sees him. And for a second all she can do is stare, wondering why he’s the one asking if she’s okay when he’s clearly hurt.

“I tried calling, you... you didn’t answer.” The words trip out, and it’s easy to fill in that simple pause with every worst case scenario. She’s imagined them a thousand times before. She can still taste that fear foul and bitter on her tongue, even with the relief of seeing him standing in front of her.

Black eyes are still left haunting Daniela’s thoughts, even days after she’s taken her hands off the cards. And she’ll swear up and down that it’s the only reason she’s standing at Adam’s door for the first time in a long time. Not the unanswered calls.

Or the all too familiar fear.

There’s one last moment of hesitation, a phone she keeps chewing on the corner of, debating whether it’s smarter or quicker to just try calling him again. He’s probably fine; he always is, but repetition of that thought doesn’t shake how familiar this is, the cold feeling of fingers gripping her tightly by the throat. It’s half of why she left, but she wonders not for the first time what the point was when this doesn’t feel all that different.

Dani knocks quickly on the door, forcing her hands to move before she finds herself simply turning around. After all, she’s got a good reason to be here this time, and it doesn’t cost anything extra to have some extra reassurance he’s still standing.

“Adam?”

She assures him that she wouldn’t let anyone treat her badly, and it’s something he already knew, but it helps to hear it. Whoever is in her life, at least he should be able to rest assured that they will be good to her and for her. Adam might have always tried his best to be the former, but maybe the latter was out of his hands. Always something just out of reach, no matter how hard he tried.

“I know,” her murmurs, dropping his head and tapping his fingers against his beer bottle. He doesn’t have the stomach to finish the rest of it anymore. Adam didn’t know what he was expecting by coming in here today, but it wasn’t this. His heart’s more torn that it was when he walked in, but he tries not to let that show.

It becomes something impossible when Dani tells him that he made her happy. That her leaving didn’t have anything to do with how he treated her, or who they were to each other at their core. It’s something he always wanted to believe, that it was not him who made her leave but what he did and what happened because of it, but to be reassured is a wave of relief crashing over him.

He knows it’s not enough, but it’s something. “I know— I know you can’t. And I’m sorry, for making you feel that. For not being able to—” Adam cuts himself off again, a frustrated sigh pulling from his throat. He wasn’t able to protect her from the hunt, from what it entailed, and he can never forgive himself for that. He never wanted that blood on her hands, he only ever wanted her to be free and safe from it all.

For as long as he lives, he’s going to try to hold up his end of that promise. To protect her from all those evils, no matter the cost. If it means he has to give her up for good, he’ll do it. For now, it’s just too hard to let go. He can’t, not yet.

He’ll take her permission to give her a call, even if it pulls at his heart to think of never seeing her face again. “Alright,” he nods once, knowing he should leave. It feels like an impossible choice to make, to leave her here and have no idea when he’ll see her again, but he tries to find the strength for it. “Thank you. I’ll be better.”

Adam doesn’t promise it, but he’ll try. “Know I should let you get back to work, now.” It feels stupid to think of anything he could do to stall this, to drag out their conversation just a little bit longer, but it’s exactly what he does. “You’ll call me too, right? If anything goes wrong. Anything at all, I’ll be there.”

Dani shakes her head too fiercely, hand pushing back through her hair afterwards to try and get the pink strands in some semblance of order. It just leaves her chest aching, hearing how much of that he piles on himself. More blame and responsibility than he should have to carry. Dani can’t shake the thought that she was just never strong enough for him. Even now she feels too weak, wanting desperately to just forget the last ten months.

“Don’t. Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. I never meant to make you think it was. It’s just...” Nothing follows, the words breaking apart as she looks at him, head bowed like some penitent soul. She can’t imagine what better looks like, can’t imagine Adam fighting harder than he already did. Not without destroying himself in the process, and it’s a thought that leaves her sick all over again.

Saving herself, her soul, whatever pieces she was trying to preserve, feel less worth it when she thinks he’ll walk out of here and go home to no one. Or go out and find something to fight, whatever monster had driven him through those doors in the first place. It leaves her hesitating too long, that urge welling up in her lungs to ask him just to run away with her. Forget all of it, the people around them, the people they pretended to be, go somewhere new and start all over again.

Dani knows before it even gets past her lips that it’s a fantasy, and nothing she could ever ask of him. His family was here, even if they weren’t the traditional sort. And it’s enough to remind her that he’s not alone, not really.

“It’s how it is.” It’s all she finally manages, quiet and defeated.

It feels like goodbye all over again, face to face this time instead of written in smeared and uneven cursive. Her teeth pull at her bottom lip before she breaks, elbows pressing against the counter again. Leaning across the wooden surface to brush her lips against his jaw. It’s only for a moment, and even that much feels selfish.

She doesn’t answer him. She should get back to work, but it seems the least important thing in this room right now. He takes up all of it, his presence too vast, an entire world she used to revolve around. He’d been the strong, solid center of her universe, and with him sitting in front of her it’s too hard to believe that ever changed.

He wants to tell her yes, of course it matters, but the words get choked up in his throat. The truth is that it shouldn’t matter who she has moved on with. Not now that it’s been ten months, and not when Daniela has made it clear that what’s best for her is being away from him. Or at least away from what he does, but most days it’s hard to tell the difference anymore. He is hunting. Without it, who would he be? What would he do? It’s all he knows. It’s all he’s good at, and it’s all he feels right doing.

Hunting, the people who took him in, and Daniela have been the only things to feel right in his life. And while she tops that list as the best thing that’s ever happened to him, Adam fears that he may be the worst thing that’s ever happened to her. That right there should be enough to convince him to distance himself for good. To stop trying to figure out ways to change her mind, to find some sort of loophole that makes her feel safe and happy with him again, but he’s as selfish as he is stubborn. Even this idea of someone new in her life, someone taking his place, isn’t enough to completely ward him away. Not yet, and right now he’s not so sure if anything will ever be.

And it’s hard to believe her when Dani can only seem to look at everything in this room other than him. It feels like she’s saying all the right things to try and convince him to leave, but all it’s doing is making him want to get to the bottom of it. He wouldn’t hold it against her if she was lying, but he hates how much he hopes she is.

“I just… y’know. They’re treatin’ you right?” His gaze remains on her face, heart pulling at the rose color tinting her cheeks, and the shape of her lips. “Make you happy?” It almost kills him to say the words, but it won’t be anything compared to the answer she’ll likely give him. Whether it’s the truth or not, it will still hurt. All of this does.

She tells him that he should be moving on too, and he clenches his jaw until the muscle juts out. The thought of it is like poison to him. He can’t stand it. “I’m…” Adam’s voice falls off there, not even bothering to say he’s trying, because he hasn’t been. “I just wanted to check in on you. It’s somethin’ I’d wanna do no matter what.” It won’t matter how long things have been broken between them, or how much either one of them has moved on. He is always going to love her, and the idea of anything happening to her is unacceptable.

“You said I can call you— that still stand? If you’d rather me just… not stop in anymore.”

Not for the first time, Daniela thinks this would all be easier if she could just hate Adam. If she could put all the blame on his shoulders for what he was and what he did. Feel anger instead of regret every time she sees him, but the sensation still doesn’t come, even when her mind keeps going in circles over everything that’s passed between them. It just makes leaving him feel like something selfish, some act of self preservation because she just didn’t trust herself enough. The things she would do for him.

The question has her shaking her head, and this just feels like a reminder of it. What kind of person she turns into when he’s involved. “I wouldn’t let anyone treat me badly.”

It feels too cruel to think that’s why she left him. He hadn’t. Some days she thought he’d treated her better than she deserved. Even now, as much as she wants to be frustrated he’s here, incapable of respecting that line she’s drawn, she can still recognize it for what it is. Him, trying to protect her. No matter what the cost to himself was.

She pushes back from the counter, shaking her head because she doesn’t have it in her to keep making up lies. She was happy enough, but it’s better if she doesn’t have to think about it. If she isn’t left comparing those moments where she’s content to just how good it had been between them. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not... I just...”

If anything, it’s too frustrating the way she keeps tripping over her own words, more torn between what she wants and what’s best for her than anyone should have to be. “You know that’s not why I left, right?” 

Her voice softens more than it should, but it’s too painful seeing that expression looking back at her when she finally tries to meet his eyes. Like she’s torn his heart out all over again. “You made me happy.”

It should’ve been enough. She wants to close her eyes and pretend it still could be. Maybe if the nightmares had stopped then she could. Instead she shakes her head, gaze dropping again, looking back to the counter. “I just couldn’t.... I can’t... live with all that fear.”

It’s been ten months since he’s held her in his arms, but not one of them have made any difference in how much he still aches for it. Maybe it should have, by now. Maybe he’s holding onto a love that has no place in his life anymore, but Adam can’t fathom the idea of giving her up. It would be like losing her all over again, even if he knows this will just hurt worse if his hope to mend things between him and Daniela ends up being all for nothing.

He can’t help it. It’s been ten months and he hasn’t thought of moving on once. Any time his closest friends bring it up to him, encourage him to distance himself like she wants, he pushes back. He ignores it, rebuffs it, anything he can do to convince himself that there’s still a chance between them. That with some time, he can make this all up to her. He can keep her away from the hunt better, and make sure he never comes home too beaten up.

Adam just hopes it’s enough. He just hopes he’ll be enough.

He never wants to put her into that kind of situation again, and he won’t. Her magic is hers, and as much as he thought that dark magic coming from a good person wouldn’t result in anything out of hand, he was wrong. He knows how much that night haunts her, and he’d die before he ever put her in the same situation again.

But proving that to her when he’s still hunting, when he still doesn’t plan on giving it up, he knows it won’t be easy. Adam is just banking on it not being impossible. With her interest in his love life, it almost feels like he’s on track. If she wasn’t worried about it in some way, he doesn’t think Dani would have asked. He takes that as a good sign, and not as him reading too much into it.

“Sure… sure.” If getting back together with him is the furthest thing from her mind, why ask? It’s too upfront of a question, so he keeps it to himself. It’s enough of a surprise that he actually manages to ask her if there’s someone in her life, someone close enough to take the role he wants back so maddeningly, but her answer freezes him up.

Any effort to try and remain neutral in the face of an answer like this can probably be seen straight through by her. It’s so simple: yes. One word, and enough to break his heart again.  He knows he should leave it like this. He should say a whole lot of bullshit he doesn’t mean, even if the sentiment of him wanting her to be happy would still be true, and say goodbye.

But he doesn’t. He asks instead, knowing it’s an open invitation for salt in the wound. The truth is, Adam isn’t so sure if another person in her life would stop him from trying to fix things between them. “That’s….” Good? He’s happy for her? He stops that sentence right there. “How’d you, uh… who is it?”

The second his expression falls, she feels even worse for it. Bad enough she left him. That in itself is a decision that’s easier to justify some days more than it is others. It’s immediately harder when he looks like she’s struck him, and she doesn’t need it spelled out more blatantly that he still cares about her. Probably loves her. A thing that used to fill her with warmth and safety and now just leaves her with an aching regret.

She can’t imagine a circumstance where it wouldn’t be hard telling him she’d found someone else. Lying to him just compounded it, guilt settling in her stomach like a sickness, because she hated the idea of hurting him, whichever direction it was coming from. It was why she’d left him with just a note, taking the coward’s way out. Any amount of time spent thinking on that just made it seem worse, that after all they’d been through she hadn’t even told him face to face. And here she was, still trying to take the easy way out.

If she’d left to try and save herself, it was easy to think he deserved someone stronger than her. Maybe it was just more proof that at the end of the day they would never be any good for each other.

“Does it matter?” She doesn’t have it in her to spin it out more than that simple ‘yes,’ paint some portrait of a person that didn’t exist. There was still just him. All it took was seeing him again to remind her of it. All of this might be easier if she could look at him now and not feel anything, believe every word she told herself about her life being better without him. She wasn’t afraid quite so often. That had to count for something.

She didn’t toy with black magic. Just the quieter kinds, tarot readings and luck charms, incense burned to help someone clear their house of bad spirits. Dani doesn’t think there’s anything she can burn that’ll be strong enough to chase Adam from her system.

She pulls her arms back, settles herself more firmly on this side of the counter. Fingers playing with bracelets, half aware that she’s probably doing a poor job of what she’s being paid for right now. The other people at the bar forgotten, her eyes watching the drop of condensation tracing a path down his glass. It’s easier than looking back at his face, even if it might remind her how often he came home bruised or bloodied.

“I’m trying to move on.” It feels repetitious, the words said so many times she doesn’t know what they mean anymore. She’s trying to stay away from him, but he doesn’t make it easy showing up here. And she’s sure she’s not helping, those words coming now, after she’s already given him permission to call her. 

He keeps the smile on his face, albeit one that’s smaller. Adam doesn’t want her to lose whatever trust or faith she has left in him, but he doesn’t doubt that Dani knows she’s all he thinks about in those states of mind. It’s why he’s been keeping it away from himself the past few months, and trying to find some peace of mind in the duration of his hunts rather than at the bottom of a bottle. Not coming home to her has been difficult, and it gets worse each time he stumbles in at two in the morning without knowing if she’s safe and sound in bed. There’s very little that’s worse than when he peeks his head in his bedroom, expecting her to still be there, sleeping soundly.

She’s out here instead, distancing herself from him and this world. All he can do to make up for it is make sure that there’s nothing near this city that can act as a threat to her. Since she left, Adam’s been torn between respecting her wishes and fighting for her. All he wants is happiness. If it’s this, he knows has to respect it. Even if it might not seem like it, given he keeps trying to change her mind, little by little.

“I’m workin’ on it,” he teases back.

Dani shuts down his question with a simple answer, and he decides to take her advice. This feels like the best, and longest, conversation they’ve had in a while. The last thing he wants to do is ruin it. “Okay. Just wanted to check, y’know.” Even if he’s not so sure she would have been willing to take any sort of help he could provide, Adam knows it wouldn’t have stopped him from trying to find ways to go about it without her knowing.

It’s probably for the best that she says she’s doing okay, and he leaves it at that.

He takes a drink from his beer, trying not to watch her so closely. It’s hard not to rake his eyes over everything he’d fallen in love with, from the different colors she’s changed her hair since he’s known her to the beautiful spirit that lives inside her. There’s nothing inside Daniela that he hasn’t fallen in love with, and there’s not a day that goes by that doesn’t remind him of it.

So when she asks if he’s gotten himself a new girlfriend, he doesn’t know how to feel. He’s both stunned by the question and close to laughing at it, but his expression flattens out into something more neutral instead. Adam shakes his head, and swallows another mouthful of beer.

“No. No new girlfriend.” His eyes meet hers again, so beautiful it makes his heart skip. There’s no way she truly believes that he’s managed to move on, or even gotten anywhere close. Maybe he would still be here if he did, still trying to keep her safe regardless of their circumstances, but she knows. She has to, and Adam’s happy to admit as much. “But you already knew that.”

Adam taps his fingers on his beer bottle a few times, reluctant to ask, but he can’t help himself. He has to know, even if it kills him. “You… got anyone like that in your life?”

It’s cruel to both of them that she hasn’t asked him to leave yet. As if there’s anything left to build on, any kind of future that involved the two of them, even if it doesn’t involve her curled up in his bed again. Stupid to even consider the possibility that they could manage being friends, because she doesn’t think they’d ever been just that.

As daunting as their first meeting had been, there wasn’t any part of him that Dani hadn’t been attracted to. Knowing he was dangerous hadn’t lessened it, even when he threw himself into that danger with the same intensity he’s looking at her with now. It was just one more thing that made this all so painful, knowing that the things she’d admired at him were the same reasons they shouldn’t be together anymore. The things she would do for him were terrifying, and it would keep her up at night, the ways he’d tear himself apart because he didn’t know how else to live.

It was almost funny, that he’d tracked her down once because he’d thought she might be a monster. Turned out being with him was what had turned her into one. That memory of cracking bone still rang in her head some nights.

She still smiles back at him, she still finds that vague, almost offer of assistance as endearing as she does frustrating. All of this is, and she wishes it were easier to hold onto the anger that he walked in here in the first place. Knowing full well that the odds she’d want to see him were slim to none. She shouldn’t want that, she shouldn’t ask him to stay, but here she is, elbows digging into the counter and studying the hard line of his jaw because it had been too long since she was close enough to do so.

It was a dumb question, one that couldn’t even pass as a joke when he looks at her like that. Intense enough that she has to look away, eyes trying to find anything else in this place to stare at for a few minutes besides his. Harder to hide is the smile that wants to settle on her lips, too much relief following the answer. And far too aware how selfish that is, because she’s the one that walked away.

It’s still the answer she wanted. And what did that say about her?

He calls her out on it, and it makes it even harder to meet his gaze, feeling all too transparent.  “Well. You know what they say about assumptions.”

It shouldn’t surprise her when he directs the question back at her, but it still catches her off guard. Stalling out on an answer because there wasn’t a single good one. The truth was that even if she left, she wasn’t over it, and even imagining someone else standing where he used to made her sick inside. They’d fall short, she’d be disappointed, she’d just miss him more for it. But that’s nothing she should tell him.

She asks him not to make any drunk dials, and it’s the first good reason he’s had to smile in a long time. It’s one that’s actually full of humor, and he ducks his head over how much he misses this. Things used to be so easy between them. More than he should, Adam wishes he could pinpoint the moment things started going wrong so he could go back and change it. Make all his decisions over again, and this time the right ones.

Whatever they are, just so he can keep Dani in his life. Keep her safe, happy, and with him. A big part of him doesn’t believe that it’s still impossible, but from where they’re standing right now, he’s never sure what his next move should be. Giving her space bothers him just as much as the idea of crowding her does, but she’s still giving him the time of day, isn’t she? Maybe he isn’t so far off.

“I can’t make any promises… but I’m gonna try. Real hard. No drunk dials.”

He just hopes he can still make her smile like he used to. If he can, it’s something he can hold onto. More hope that there’s still a chance for them down the road, so long as he doesn’t ruin it again. But for now, her safety is his priority. All he wants to know is that she’s okay in every aspect, including funds and whatever else. As a hunter with a side-gig as a mechanic, he doesn’t make tons of money, but sometimes a bounty pays particularly well. He’s always put the money aside for the both of them, a start toward their future.

“That’s good. Glad it’s goin’ alright. Is it… y’know, you’re good on everything?” If she takes it the wrong way, it will just have to be another cross to bear. If he doesn’t ask he won’t know, and if there’s anything he can do for her, he wants to do it.

She flips the conversation back toward him, and he’s not exactly surprised. Mostly he just wishes he had something else to tell her, maybe something to give her a little faith in him. Honesty will have to do, for now. “Not a whole lot that’s new, no. Just tryin’ to keep myself busy like always.”

Adam smiles at her, and for a moment it feels like yesterday. As thought ten months hadn’t gone by, her nights spent with him instead of on a friend’s pull out couch. It’s too easy to settle back into place like it’s still the two of them, and it brings with it a quiet ache, even with the awareness that she’s the one that left. Cut him out of her life as completely as she could, severed any connections that might threaten to drag her back in, and she knows it’s because of this exact moment.

How much easier it is to recall those good moments, the passage of time making them all shine a little bit brighter than the bad. She knows, logically, that nothing’s changed, there are still a dozen reasons why this couldn’t work. Nostalgia still had a way of twisting things like that, and right now she’s too aware of that familiar stuttering of her heart.

“Well that’s not very encouraging at all.”

It’s better not to think about it, not to wonder or fall into that trap of hoping that he’d call, drunk or not. It’s a joke and it should stay that way.

Her lips press together when he asks her if she’s good on everything. Some less than subtle implication buried in there that if she’s not, he might still try and fix it. Regardless of how many times she’s told them both she can take care of herself. It’s more true than it used to be, and she knows it’s her fault he isn’t around to see that anymore.

“I told you. I’m good. Don’t ruin it.”

His answer doesn’t really surprise her, because it was hard to imagine him changing. Which was both a blessing and a curse, an unwanted but necessary reminder of one of the reasons she left. The path he’d set himself on wasn’t anything she could see him wavering from, no matter how many bodies it was paved with. And she hadn’t been able to live with the terror that one day one of those would be his.

The offer she makes weighs on his shoulders. He shouldn’t be inching his way back into her life, even if it might seem like that’s exactly what he’s trying by showing up here. Adam has checked in on her a good couple of times since she ended things with him, but for the most part he slipped under the radar. He made sure that she was okay, maybe waited to see a smile like it was some sort of proof of her happiness, and he’d leave. Sometimes he’s a little less careful than others, too desperate to hear her voice to keep his distance or his head down.

All of it just proves that this sort of invitation isn’t one he should take. Adam knows himself, and he knows that he’ll use the occasional phone call to keep checking up on her. He’ll ask how she’s doing on herbs or other ways to keep her safe, and he’ll always offer to swing by if she’s running low.

But he just can’t say no to it. If it’s stupid that he’s holding onto the hope that she’s changing her mind about him, at least about the extent of the distance she wants to keep, then he’ll be stupid. All he wants is her safety and happiness, and he understands that she feels like she’s better off reaching that away from him, but not seeing her at all…

It’s been eating away at him.

“Sure, yeah. I can, if that’s something you want, or… don’t mind.” He has to double check with her, just to be sure. Maybe it’s as simple as her not wanting to worry about when he’s going to show up out of nowhere next, but Adam can’t stop looking at the offer like it’s a tether, something that’s keeping their lives connected. No matter how small.

More than anything it’s good to see her smile again and feel like he’s the one responsible for it. It’s barely there, but he can still see it. Her misses hearing this tone out of her, how she teases and messes with him. It’s enough to quirk the corners of his mouth into a similar smile. “Yeah, well, you never know.” Adam thanks her for the beer and tells himself not to make this offer, not to bring anything like this up, but he tests the waters. “You never told me whether you like workin’ here or not.”

It’s not a question, but the short answer is; she doesn’t know. Part of her minds, part of her wants to take the offer back as soon as it’s made. Tell him it’s probably not a good idea, she’d rather him just keep his distance. Everything’s simpler that way. It’s not something she has to convince herself of, it’s been an obvious fact of her life since she left. If there are still nightmares, there’s fewer of them when her life offers less fuel.

But the other part of it? If it’s something she wants?

There are a list of selfish things that fall under that category, one of which is to keep him in this bar just a few minutes longer. Just to have him that close, pretend that she can see him again without feeling that ache settling deep in her bones with just how much she misses him. It’s easier to distract herself when she doesn’t have to see him. Now she’s looking right at him, that hesitant smile on his lips making him look younger, less severe.

"No drunk dials.” It’s an easier answer than any of the ones she should be giving him. Just because he calls doesn’t mean she has to answer. Maybe if she tells herself that then she’ll follow it, let it just go to voicemail for him to give his warnings.

The question he repeats for her just earns a shrug. “It’s a job. An easy one. A normal one.” 

The phrasing’s intentional, but it’s a lie to say that’s all she does, or that it’s ever been anything she really craved. Normal only held so much appeal, but compared to the fear and the guilt, that had started to drown her, she’d take it and pretend it was better. All she’d ever really wanted was to be something good, but the only thing she’d ever been good at was making the wrong choices.

It hurt to think he was one of them. More when she couldn’t tell if it was true or not.

She tells him there are people who need these warnings more than her and his first instinct is to deny it. Sure, maybe she’s right, but not in his eyes. As unsympathetic as it might sound, Adam never got into hunting because he wanted so badly to protect people. He was brought into it as a teenager as an alternative to living on the streets or in foster homes, and so he took it. He learned and he trained because it was better than the only other options he had.

Now it’s a part of his life he doesn’t know how to exist without, just like how he’s struggling to keep moving forward without Dani. All he can do is take solace in the fact that she’s still alive, and do everything he can to keep it that way.

“There’s not. No one I can tell, or…” Check in on. Outside of Dani and the group he runs with, the people close enough for Adam to feel comfortable calling family, there’s no one else. No one he knows well and no one who even has the slightest idea of what he does.

Daniela’s the only person he wants to keep safe. The only one he thinks of when he’s putting an end to all sorts of monsters or threats. He wishes he did better, back when she was still in his life – when she wanted to be there. Adam never should have encouraged or supported her use of dark magic, no matter how minor. He should kept her away from that.

He should have done a lot of things differently. Like how he should right now. Despite Dani’s offer, he should leave. He should get out of here, give her space, but he doesn’t.

He takes a seat instead. “Yeah, sure. Sure, I can have a beer. You’re not too busy?”

Nothing makes this easier. She’d thought she was coming to terms with that, but Adam standing in front of her is a reminder that there’s plenty that can make it harder. Just seeing him sits at the top of that list, the ache that comes with every glance at his face, every glimpse of scratches or bruises, no matter how commonplace they are.

His answer might take the next spot, an awful, unexpected ache when he tells her there’s no one else. She can tell them both she doesn’t want to be that for him, not anymore, but it hurts hearing there’s no one else he can warn. A reminder that he’s alone.

Her thoughts on that are just as knotted and painful, because no small part of her isn’t ready for there to be someone else. She should, she should want that for him, a better person would want him to move on and find someone who was better at all of this than her. Stronger or more patient, someone who could face that darkness with him. Without getting swallowed up by it. But it only leaves bitterness and selfishness in its wake, because he’d looked at her like no one else ever had, and she isn’t ready to imagine those eyes of his fixated on someone else.

“Well...” she trails off before she shrugs, like the next offer doesn’t mean anything. “Maybe next time just call.”

She shouldn’t make that offer, anymore than she should offer him a drink. Not when she’s trying to cut out him and all connections to that life. She had, she’d swear she was moving on, but just like that he’s back in front of her and she can’t stomach the thought of him walking away and her never seeing him again. It might be why she drags out the moment, turning to pour him a beer before settling it and herself back in front of him.

“Oh, yes. Very busy.” She nods seriously, doing her best not to hide the slightest smile, when the pervading silence was likely answer enough.  “You got here right in the middle of a rush.”

It’s painful to know just how much they have changed, both together and apart. There was a time when Daniela’s eyes couldn’t be more different when she looked at him, once filled with bright intrigue and faith in him. Nothing like how they are now, dull and tired of every burden he’s made her carry. Even still, he can’t help but lose himself in how green they are. Beautiful, like everything about her. There’s a vicious ache in his heart to think about just how much he lost when she left him.

He should have kept her away from the hunt. He should have protected her from it, distancing her rather than exposing her to every in and out. Back then, he thought he was doing the right thing. He thought that if she knew all there was to know, she’d be prepared for anything to go wrong.

Hindsight is twenty-twenty.

Adam lets the silence gather static between them, knowing there’s nothing he can say to make her feel better about the hunt he’ll be on soon. If there was, maybe they would still be together.

And while he knows damn good and well that he has no real business being here, that he should leave Dani to live her life as peacefully and happily as she can now that she’s gotten out of his orbit, he can’t stop himself from checking in on her. She tells him it’s not fair, and it freezes him up.

“Not fair? What do you—” Adam cuts himself off, his hands running over the short length of his hair. He’s always has trouble keeping still, and even worse, trying to explain himself. “It’s not every threat. Just the ones that are gettin’ too close, that’s all.”

Not that it’s likely to make her feel any better about any of this.

There’s too much she wants to say, and none of it comes easy. It isn’t fair that he’s here, it isn’t fair that he’s still worried about her, because it’s been hard enough trying to let him go, and moments like this she thinks she never really did. Dani might’ve been the one who left, she might’ve walked away, but there hasn’t been anyone else and she still isn’t thinking like there will be. It’s too hard to imagine anyone else in his place.

She thinks some part of her is still waiting for him, for something to change, even if it’s just her resolve to weaken.

He pushes, for a minute she doesn’t know how to answer. She can’t tell him she doesn’t know how to move on, knowing he might show up at any given moment. She can’t stand here and focus on some part time job when he’s out there adding more scars to a collection of them. It’s unfair how much worse it is, because she won’t even be there in the aftermath. Making sure he’s safe, cleaning blood off his hands if she has to. As quiet as her life has been since, right now it doesn’t feel better.

It just hurts. Her gaze drops from him to the countertop, scratches etched its surface. “I mean...” She stalls out again, too much of a coward to say any of the things she could. She doesn’t want to give him hope, but she doesn’t want to turn him away.  “There have to be people out there who need those warnings more. More than me. If you don’t want my help...”

You shouldn’t be here.

The words don’t get said. She’d like to pretend it’s enough to know that right now he’s alive, standing in front of her. Watching the motion of those calloused hands that used to hold her so closely. She misses that feeling, she misses him.

She’s still worried, maybe even afraid, and he feels guilt over that. More than others, even other witches, Dani knows what’s out there. He’s told her the stories, shown her all the journals he’s made, and made sure she was secure with all the right herbs and tricks that would keep her safer than magic alone. He hopes she’s still carrying a little vervain on her a all times, and keeps protection charms on the door to wherever she’s staying… but he doesn’t ask.

He’s plenty overbearing as it is, and they’ve been separated for ten months.

“I know you don’t.” But that’s never stopped him before, and it’s not going to stop him now. Her safety is his priority. “I’m still gonna be takin’ care of it. Won’t be anythin’ to think about soon.” He worries about everything when it comes to Daniela, but a lot of demons see witches as an opportunity to make a deal in trade for more power. He doubts she would ever go for it, he knows she doesn’t want that dark magic in her hands again, but Adam still doesn’t want them anywhere near her.

Just like he doesn’t want her anywhere near the hunt again. His chest tightens even still to think of what happened. A part of him wishes he could just give it up, but this is all he knows. He was taken in young by the group of hunters he’s still loyal to. He’s got no real proof of education, and his best skills aren’t exactly law-abiding or even common knowledge. Maybe he could cut it working at a garage, fixing up cars, but Adam knows he wouldn’t last. He’d get pulled back in.

And Daniela doesn’t deserve to think that he’s gotten out just to see him turn on a dime at the next opportunity. All he can hope is that she doesn’t think it means more to him than she does. No one’s ever accused Adam of not being selfish: he wants both, and he’s not close to giving up either. At least he can rest assured that she’s still worried about him. That she cares, even if she thinks distance from him is the best thing for her.

“And I never want to see you hurt, either. I don’t—” He cuts himself off to sigh. His hands fidget on the bar, always restless. He’d much rather reach out to her, but that’s not his place anymore. “I don’t want you anywhere near this. You said you’re doin’ good, and I want it to stay that way.”

It’s not a point Dani tries to drive home harder, not when he knows just what she’s capable of. More than anyone alive, but it’s not a thought she takes any great pride in. If anything she wishes she could forget, settle for the lessons he’d tried to press on her instead. Charms hung around her neck, precautions taken so her will wouldn’t be bent under a compulsion.

Not that image of snapping bones and a spreading pool of black that she’d seen for weeks after, whenever she closed her eyes.

“Of course you are.” It’s said with a dull sort of acceptance, when once it might’ve been pride. Faith in him had always been left competing against fear of the monsters out there. She hadn’t pressed for details about what he’s after, not like a part of her wants to, but it didn’t really matter. Today it was one kind of monster, tomorrow it would be something else, and he would keep going until there was nothing left of him. 

It wasn’t the hunt she’d hated. She could empathize with why he did it, and why he couldn’t stop. It was the kind of drive and purpose she couldn’t relate to. She was always changing jobs, her home, her hair, her friends, whenever the urge struck her. The only thing that she’d ever wanted to hold onto was him, the only constant. And that meant watching him get torn apart, again and again. No matter what she did to try and help. How much of herself she’d sacrifice to try and protect him. It wasn’t enough.

Adam wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t ask him to, and part of her was afraid of the answer if she did. It would hurt if he said no, it would hurt if he said yes, and she had to watch resentment build in his eyes as he tried to be something less than what he was.

“So... what? You show up here every time some new threat turns up?” It’s unintentional just how low her voice falls, though it’s probably for the best. The bar isn’t busy this time of day, but there are still people here who don’t need to hear any of it. But more than that, the words feel harsh enough already without raising her voice. “That’s not fair.”

He doesn’t mean to scare her. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up at all, but when it comes to Dani, he can’t be too careful. It doesn’t matter how small – if anything was bothering her, he would be the first to take care of it. Adam hopes she knows this. He hopes she knows that it won’t ever matter how far she distances herself from him. It could be a year from now, even three or ten, and he’d be there.

“Don’t. Don’t worry about it.” The problem isn’t going to be around that much longer, and the last thing he wants is for her to feel any sort of fear over it. “It’s nothin’ that won’t be gone soon. I just wanted to ask you.” Adam wants to say more, wants to make sure she knows how much he still cares about her, but he keeps his mouth shut just this once.

He’s done enough just by being here long enough to get caught. His gaze picks back up off the bar-top when Daniela asks him what he’s gotten himself into, and even goes far enough to ask him if he needs help. It stirs up some feelings in the pit of his gut, and even makes his heart swell. There was a time when Adam used to think that together, nothing could touch them. She was always so amazing with what she could do, but altogether she’s even more than that.

For now, he just shakes his head. Dani tried hard to get out from underneath the weight he bore and as much as he wants her back, he knows he can’t go about it this way. If he’s ever going to win her back, it’s going to be outside of the hunt. It has to be. “No. No, I got it. I just need to know that you’re safe, that’s all.” But as much self-restraint as he showed just moments ago, it’s no wonder that he can’t manage the same trick twice. “But I— why? Why offer? Thought you wanted to get away from all that.”

“Too late.”

Her tongue catches between her teeth, biting off the more bitter comments that want to follow. She wasn’t worried until he walked back in here, something that’d be all too easy to resent him just for. It’s nothing that will ever sit well.

Dani hates this, the fear and resentment that rises back up so quickly, made worse because of how much she cared. How much she still cares, and that look on his face alone makes her want to rest fingers on his jaw and soothe it away. Instead she’s shaking her head, pressing fingers tighter against her rib cage instead. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

Adam tells her no, and she isn’t surprised, but beyond that she can’t tell what she feels. Some part of her might be grateful, because she doesn’t want to get dragged back into it. She doesn’t want that fear, she doesn’t want the temptation of dark magic hovering at the edge of her thoughts again. It’s easier to sleep at night when the only workings done at her hands are gentler things, meant to soothe instead of hurt.

But the frustration barely feels any less than when they were together. He’ll go off alone, and no matter how many times he’s come back in one piece, there’s always that awful turning in her stomach that this time he won’t. It all ties in together, all part of why she left.

She tells him exactly what he wants to hear, and it’s still not enough to get him to leave. He’s heard it again and again, how he needs to let her go, but ten months have gone by and it’s not any easier. Adam knows his own excuses too well by now to bother repeating them to himself. As much as he wants to believe that he’d be able to keep her safe if they were together, better than he can now that they’re apart, maybe it’s just not true.

Daniela tells him she’s doing good, and he has no reason not to trust her. She looks every bit of the word, with no injuries or expressions he can see that tell him otherwise. It encourages the tension in his chest to lighten up, but that’s about it.

“Nothin’… y’know, nothin’ you’re worried about?” The demons roaming around present a threat, one he plans on taking care of sooner rather than later, but it’s more than possible that Dani hasn’t even caught wind of them.

It’s what he’d prefer, even if he wouldn’t mind getting the chance to make sure that she’s safe. He just hates to think that she’s better off without his interference.

But she probably is. Gone are the days of her having to worry about him coming back to her, half bleeding out. Worried about where he’s going, or if he’s ever going to come back. It scares him half to death to remember the night she followed him out to a hunt, and risked herself to help him. She sacrificed her conscious to save him – he can’t stand that she was ever in that position to begin with.

All he’s ever wanted is to keep her safe. “Yeah, I’m alright.” Maybe the cuts and bruises along his face and arms say otherwise, but she’s got to be just as used to them as he is. “You like workin’ here?”

Her brows pull together when he presses, studying him more intently, trying not to fixate on the marks he’s already sporting. It’s nothing new, but that doesn’t make it any better, that this is what passes for alright in his book. It’s a reminder why she left, one she needs right now, when it still isn’t easy to see his face again. But he wasn’t some solid ground she could build a life on, he was an earthquake, and somewhere she knows she’d just get crushed in the wreckage sooner or later.

Still, it doesn’t change the way her stomach turns over, because it doesn’t take any great stretch of the imagination to figure why he’s here. Something spooked him, enough that he wandered in here looking her over like he’s surprised she’s still alive. It comes closer to sparking her temper, but it’s still not there. “Worried that you’re asking me that.”

“Adam..." She trails off, it’s a mistake just to say his name. Arms cross over her chest, constricting tightly, like it’s any replacement for his arms. He asks about her job, but she barely hears him, barely registers it as something worth commenting on.

“What did you get into?” She shouldn’t ask. As soon as she voices the question she should take it back, because that wasn’t a part of her life anymore. She couldn’t afford it, already stepping in over her head once. And it was too easy to recall the crackle of black magic along her fingers, how much power had flooded her veins, the sight of red and splintered bone that had followed. For him, to protect him, because he’d been worth it. He’d been worth the cost of her soul.

The problem was that he probably still was. And if she thought it would make a difference she’d still be there, she’d still be trying, but there are bruises on his face now, and it’s enough to know that none of it would ever make a difference.