Not reached by frost

It's such a strange and bewildering feeling that you could want to despise someone, and still go running to them before anyone else. Didn't it say something, who you chose to run to when it felt like the end of the world? Danny might not be "the one" that she'd imagined when they'd first met, but they're still... Connected in their souls somehow, she thinks, because they'd been so easy, so seamless, and she'd never have told Jonah or her ex before half the things she and Danny trusted each other with so easily. Maybe that's why the hurt made her lash out so badly. Would she ever manage to find that in someone else in a way that ended romantically? Noah's so, so honest, but he's also horrifically out of her league, and they both knew it. Especially now! Lenianna and Jordan are the kindest, purest people she knows, and that leaves her afraid to tell them anything that isn't perfect or wholesome. Why couldn't she be like all three of them? She tried so hard to be good like them, kind like them, someone for her brothers and Kiran and her parent to be proud of. Did she not belong there in the first place?

Angelie lets herself be tugged closer, leaning against Danny's chest as she attempts to breathe between her tears. "A high-ranking Vice, he told me I'm his daughter, Danny. I asked my friend to help me get a DNA test to prove him wrong, but he said... Danny, he seemed so sure. Like he would have put a lot of money on a bet." She holds up the locket still secured around her neck. "Please tell me I look like them. Please, Danny."

"Hm? Why would he say that?" He asked with a small frown then looked at the locket she was holding up and looked at the pictures inside of it with a small smile. "See now, these are your parents and that doesn't change a thing, ok? It doesn't matter if you were adopted or born or find family, it's family. I'm sure this guy has a good reason to tell you what he had done."

Except some awful part of him wondered if this was something Christian could actually protect him from. This wasn't exactly a physical threat Christian could step in front of. This was Art's own body betraying him in real time, and Christian looking scared only made that feel more real.

"Wouldn't be surprised if it was just me, honestly," he added, trying for casual and missing by a mile. "Bad things happen to me at the funniest moments. It's very committed to the bit." He tucked some hair behind his ear, then immediately frowned. Even a small movement like that felt totally foreign to him. Blinking, Art glanced back at Christian and then raised a brow. "You really wanna try explaining why your boyfriend is a girl to a doctor friend in Virtue?" he asked. "Because that sounds less like an emergency and more like the worst improv prompt of all time."

"Bad things shouldn't happen to you, you're a good person, shit things should happen to me." He gestured to himself then sighed. "I have no other ideas than going to Will and seeing if he has any. You don't have to come with me, I can speak to him on my own if you prefer."

Her hands settled against his chest as she tilted her head to give him better access. "I didn’t say flawless." A small smile started on her lips. "I said perfect to me. There’s a difference." Her fingers curled lightly into his shirt. "And for the record, I like your not-so-perfect side, too. Maybe more than I should.”

Jonathan Bailey as Tim Laughlin in “Promise You Won’t Write" (Fellow Travelers - 1x05)

"Y-Your joke got me," she clarified, her voice trembling as she tried to force the moment back into something normal. Something fixable. "That’s what I meant." Her lip quivered, but she continued on anyway, desperate now. "You love me," she said, trembling. "I love you."

Was it too much to say she was his wife? Would that scare him more? Would it mean anything at all? Her eyes burned, but she refused to look away. "You can’t say you forgot me," Beverly said, the words breaking. "You can’t look at me like I’m a stranger." They just got a happy ending. It was unfair. "Please, Elijah."

He took a second to look around as well and frowned some. "Where are we anyway?"

Jaren slides his hands into his pockets as the door closes behind them. "What can I say? I'm pretty skilled at achieving the unachievable. I do, in fact, as a renowned businessman in Vice. The first of many businesses, probably. Don't worry, I won't make you go on the roller coaster in that outfit," he teases, holding out one hand. "Come on, I'll show you the perfect date spot.

Eric's jaw tightened, his hands curling uselessly at his sides. "I'm not the one who started this,” he said, but it came out quieter this time. "I never asked you for anything." Except even as he said it, the memory shifted again. Danny’s voice saying it meant nothing. Danny’s mouth against his. Danny looking tired of him. Danny looking like he cared. None of it fit.

"I'm not trying to trick you!" Eric snapped, because anger was easier than panic. "I don’t even know what the trick would be!" A humorless laugh left him, thin and unsteady. "You think I want this? Any of this? You think I want to stand here looking like some idiot because I can't tell if I'm pissed at you or—” He cut himself off hard. No. Absolutely not.

He looked away before Danny could see too much. "I remember you hurting me," he said, voice rougher now. "I remember it like it happened. I remember you looking at me like I was nothing." His throat tightened. "But then you look at me like that, and it doesn't…" He shook his head, frustrated and scared and too stubborn to admit either cleanly. "It doesn’t match." His voice dropped. "So if you’re tired, fine. Be tired. I'm tired too." He forced himself to look back at Danny, but there was less bite in it now. "But don't ask me to make sense of something when my own head might be lying to me."

He caught that hesitation and looked right at Eric. "Or what? or what?" He repeated, his eyes steady.

"I didn't! I have never hurt you or even gone out of my way to hurt you." His tone was almost begging as he reached out to turn Eric back towards him. "What's going on with you? Snap out of this, this isn't you." Danny dropped his hands, his heart was still racing but instead of feeling hurt, it had completely been replaced by confusion.

"Ok.. let's just both take a breath before we say things we don't mean. Why don't you tell me what's going on in your head right now? I want to help you."

Which was exactly why Christian looking at him like that made heat rush straight to his face. Art looked away, deeply offended by the betrayal of his own blush. "Maybe," he muttered. "Never happened in my lifetime, though." Christian’s gaze was almost too much right now. That was the problem.

"You’re a doctor," Art said, forcing himself back into confusion and concern because it was safer. "What do I do? Go in for tests or something? Let them poke me with needles and shit?" He paused. "Because I’m telling you right now, if anyone says the word specimen, I’m swinging."

Normally the blush would've made him grin but in this case it didn't feel right at all. "I know... I'm not really sure what's happening, this can't be the only case in town." Christian had a thought though but maybe he was jumping into conclusions, he wouldn't put it past her though if he was in her pocket?

Snapping out of his thoughts, he turned his attention back to what Art was saying and shook his head. "I not going to let them do that to you... I can take you to Mercy over on the other side if that's what you want because we don't have the resources at the clinic. Maybe we could see Will? He might know." Christian didn't know shit and that made him a little afraid.