hurricane.

Flynn couldn’t help the way his jaw squared hearing that name, he knew it was what she tended to call him, that she had used it so much when they were together, but now it just stung. And it wasn’t something he liked to hear. “Alright.” He told her, giving in because he didn’t want to argue that this wasn’t what he had meant and delve into all of those feelings, because honestly- he was exhausted with them and he just wanted to move on. And maybe Jane did care about him, it was just a hard concept to grasp. Flynn remained quiet when the other stitched him up, only flinching a little knowing she preferred it when he stayed still, he knew it would be odd to many people to say this was an intimate setting, but it was. This was something she did a lot when they were together, when she would finish off and she would whisper about him being more careful, he always told her he would and then she’d kiss him. But it wasn’t like that now, even if he wished it was.

Jane finished working on his wounds in silence. There was only the gash on his forehead left, a wide, nasty cut that’d scabbed halfway already. She almost joked about how his body was so used to being battered like this his platelets moved at record speed now. But she thought better of it. They weren’t the same Jane and Flynn (Eugene) that they were when such a comment would’ve been appropriate, even normal. They weren’t strangers, either, just... different. That time felt far away and incredibly close all at once, it was dizzying. Jane stitched up the cut with deft hands and proficiency. And then she was done. Her hands fell to her sides as she inspected her work. Slowly, she took of her latex gloves, avoiding looking him in the eye. “All done,” she said, hoping it was only her imagination that her voice faltered slightly.

Nodding silently, Arista wanted to punch herself. What on earth were these two doing? They used to talk for hours and never run out of conversation topics. What happened? A lot had changed, but underneath it all Arista was the same Arista and Jane was the same Jane. Giving in, Arista let go of her straw hostage, sitting up straighter as she looked to her ex-girlfriend, “Jane…” she sighed, trying to muster the courage to continue on, “What happened to us?”

Jane was caught off guard by the question. They’d been skirting around the topic of their once-relationship for almost a year now. their interactions were filled with awkward silences and near-misses. She remembered when she felt like she could talk about anything with Arista, but now that seemed impossible. They hadn’t changed, but the air between them had. Jane shook her head, grasping at words. “Life? Time? I don’t know...”

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” Philip replied, turning and pointing to the coffee shop, “We’re here.”

“We’re both workaholics, huh?” Arista said with another laugh, unable to help but wonder if that was one of the biggest reasons why things never worked out between the two of them. “But yeah, wouldn’t want to be dead right? Hah,” she said awkwardly, trying and failing to play off of what Jane had said. In a slight panic, Arista lowered her head quickly to scoop her straw between her lips again as she slurped her milkshake to stop her from saying anything else stupid.

“I guess so,” Jane replied, holding onto her cup for dear life. She knew one of the biggest reasons why the two of them hadn’t worked out was because of their conflicting schedules and the little time they had for each other. It’d been a real mess she’d rather not relive. “Must be awfully uncomfortable,” she offered, hurriedly taking a sip of her drink in order to keep herself from talking any more. She’d expected this to be awkward, but she’d hoped for it to be better. Disappointment was an uncomfortable sting in her chest.

He dropped the subject when she didn’t elaborate further, simply nodding to show he’d heard her. “Being stabbed is one thing. Having my face feeling like it’s melting off because of some alcohol on a bandage is completely different.” After making another face, he leaned forward to be within her reach once again, closing his eyes as he prepared for the harsh stinging of getting the cut on his face cleaned.

Jane rolled her eyes. “I swear to God, you people are certifiably insane,” she muttered under her breath before she resumed her attempt at cleaning Christopher’s cuts. she dabbed the tissue on them carefully, laughing a little to herself at the face the other was making. “Alright, torture over. I’ll just bandage them now and we can get back to our more pressing issue,” she said with a meaningful glance at his abdomen.

“Crazier than being impaled by a tiny pitchfork? I don’t believe you.” He didn’t move at all as she took a closer look at his wounds, only following her with a glance. “Sounds good.” He’d rather not bleed all over everything when he got home – like he’d been planning on doing. When instructed to hold the gauze to his body, he did so with a “Yes ma'am.” He pressed as hard as he could manage, wincing but glad the have the bleeding stop. “What?” He looked up as she spoke again, almost childishly leaning away.

Jane nodded in confirmation. “You’d be surprised what kind of things can be used as weapons,” she said, but she didn’t elaborate. She’d rather keep those memories private. Like her own secret. So she focused on her current task, which was to stop Christopher from bleeding out. She was just about to get to the gash on his face when he leaned away. Her hands froze mid-air. “Are you serious right now? You have a pitchfork stab wound on your stomach and you’re flinching away from a piece of gauze?” She really would never understand criminals. Such babies.

He did as directed, dumping the ruined garment into the trash before looking at his wounds – four separate holes, not too deep but still bleeding enough to cause some concern. “Uh…” Chris made a face, trying not to wipe at the blood on his abdomen with his dirty hands and cause an infection. “Would you believe me if I said pitchfork? Not like a real one, but like a miniature display one.”

Jane raised her eyebrows, and smiled slightly. “Believe it or not, I’ve heard crazier things.” She bent down slightly to get a better look at the puncture marks, which were still bleeding to the beat of his heart. “They don’t look too deep, but it’s to tell. I’ll try and stop the bleeding and then stitch them up.” She reached for a few patches of gauze and held them to the wounds, taking his hand and pressing it over the tissue. “Hold this,” she instructed. “Press hard.” She took some more gauze and doused it with alcohol to treat the cuts on his face. “This is gonna sting,” she said, her tone almost mocking. She doubted this would be worse than being impaled with a pitchfork.

“That doesn’t matter, you still do just as good as a job as any other vet here.” He told the other confidently, because she seemed to care a lot about the animals and it’s what made him bring every injured animal that needed medical attention to her aid. “You’re very welcome.” He told her with a smile, “They’re easy to look after, I mean who wouldn’t want to spend all day with these guy’s- they make it worth getting up in the morning.” He spoke as he continued to ruffle the small dogs fur.

Jane’s smile widened as she listened to Kristoff talking about the animals at the shelter. She knew exactly how he felt. She loved going in every day and taking care of them. They were so full of love, despite everything they’d been through. It put everything into perspective. “Anyway,” she said finally. “I should probably go back and see if the doctor needs any help. I’ll see you later, maybe? Both of you,” she added, giving the puppy a quick pat on the head.

“I didn’t mean like that- I meant, you’re not my girlfriend anymore. You don’t have to care about me or whether I’ve been beaten or not. You don’t need to try and fix me.” He told the other, maybe meaning more than one thing when he told her that she didn’t need to try and fix him anymore. He was never all that broken, he was just who he was because it’s the way he was supposed to be, a criminal. When she gave him a look to see if she could touch him, he nodded granting her permission he knew she wanted. “Alright, I trust you.” He told her, moving to the table and sitting down on it, removing his shirt so it would be easier for Jane to stitch him up.

Jane shot him a look. “I don’t need to be your girlfriend to care about you, Eugene.” The name slipped out before she knew she’d used it. But she didn’t regret saying it. Perhaps it would help drive her point home. How could he not understand that, no matter what happened, Jane would always care about him? It wasn’t even a choice anymore, and even if it were, things wouldn’t be any different. Her hands moved deftly and automatically as she applied antiseptic and bandages. She saved the stitches for last, figuring she’d give him some time to brace for the sting. Jane didn’t need to think when it came to patching Flynn’s wounds. She’d done it enough times now that her hands knew where to go without her needing to tell them. She knew every crook and curve of his body, and it gave her a sense of nostalgia that’d seemed to assault her more and more often recently. She didn’t think she missed Flynn and their relationship, but more like her mind twisted the good memories to outshine the bad, and it made her reminisce about the both of them way back when.

“That’s good to hear,” she smiled softly. “Honestly if you weren’t busy I’d probably be concerned,” Arista added with an awkward laugh, suddenly realizing she had admitted she felt concern for her ex. That was probably a huge no-no. Why did she have to wear her heart on her sleeve? “Me? Busy as always too. Between uni and work I barely have any free time, you know? But I like it that way.”

Jane laughed, probably a little too loudly, but she was nervous to be talking with Arista again. It never seemed to go as well as she wanted it to, but laughing was a good sign. “Yeah, well... I wish I’d have time to actually live, but what can you do, right?” Nonetheless, Jane was happy to note that recently, she’d been managing her time better, and had been able to squeeze in some social things into her never-stopping life. “Being busy is good. I’ve always heard that  if you stop, you’re dead, so...”

“Well where else were you going to sit?” Arista reasoned, gesturing around the bustling diner. There was hardly a place to stand let alone sit. It only made sense to offer the spot. Even if it was to Jane of all people. “Hi,” she echoed. It still stung to see Jane. She missed what the two of them had had, but after the riff that came between them and the life Jane was now leading – it felt like Arista was just moving in slow motion. “How’ve you been?”

Jane glanced around, though she was already aware there were no other seats available. It wasn’t a surprise for the time of the day. What was a surprise was that Arista would be so nonchalant about her sitting with her. For months they’d been avoiding each other, and the last few encounters they’d had hadn’t gone so well. Nevertheless, Jane was adamant in making it better. She sat down in front of the blonde, smiling tightly. “All right, busy as always. You?”

“I’m not being silly, it’s not your job to do this for me anymore. I don’t like imposing.” He told her, though he wanted her to look after him. He wanted that little bit of how they used to be because he could hold onto it even though he should be letting things like this go. He followed her though, down the hallway and into the examination room, when she asked if he was hurt anywhere else, he lifted his shirt- exposing his bruised ribs with one small gash laying under them.

“It was never my job to do it. I’m an animal doctor, not a people one.” Why did he have to be so difficult? She was trying to help him. It didn’t matter that they weren’t together anymore. She still didn’t want him to die. Jane wasn’t sure she ever wanted Flynn out of her life completely. She turned to find him standing there, shirt pulled up to expose a small gash among some bruises around his ribs. She pulled a pair of latex gloves on and walked over to him. She silently asked for permission to touch him with her eyes, and got to work. She felt his ribs for any signs of internal damage, gauging his reaction with as much clinical detachment as she could muster. “The cut doesn’t seem too deep, but I’ll give it a couple of stitches just in case,” she said out loud, more to fill the silence than need for him to know what she was going to do. “Sit down on the table.”

“You’re welcome, honestly I wouldn’t trust anyone else to look at a sick animal. I always ask for you- if it’s an emergency I’ll get what I can take. But yeah- it’s always me calling for Jane Porter.” He told the other, smiling at the way the other was interacting with the pup. “It’s heartbreaking.” He told her, it’s why he loved working at the shelter so much, because he too was left to fend for himself as a child- no recollection of his parents. He only remembers being alone until he was put into foster care.

Jane giggled at Kristoff’s confession. “I knew it had to be someone! But you know I’m not a real vet yet, don’t you?” She was almost there, though. Almost... “But I’ll take all the work I can get, so thank you.” Experience was good. She could put it in as extra credit, and maybe even graduate early if she was lucky. “It is. But they’re lucky to have such a sweet caretaker when they get to the shelter, so,” she said with a warm smile to Kristoff. The boy was really sweet, she’d thought so since she’d first met him. It was not wonder the animals at the shelter were so happy and fond of him.

“I know, but you’re doing a good job at your… job.” He said, trailing off towards the end of the sentence, not even sure if that made sense or not. “I’ll be sure he get’s them though, I’ll look after him, shower him with some love- he’ll be spoiled.” He chuckled, ruffling the others fur and looking down at the sad little thing, “It just makes me mad that someone would abandon him on the street when he’s not well.”

“Well, thank you, I really appreciate that,” Jane smiled brightly. She rested her forearms on the counter, leaning her face closer to the dog’s muzzle, bopping her nose against his a couple of time as she giggled. “Unfortunately, that’s when they get abandoned the most. Some people don’t have the means to take care of them so they just... leave. It’s sad, really.”

Flynn couldn’t help but have his eyes trained on the others face, watching as she looked concerned and like how she used to look at him when they were together. “You don’t need to- it’ll be okay.” He told the other quietly, though he wanted that, there was always a connection between when the other patched him up. Her whispering for him to be more careful and him promising that he would, holding her without saying anything and yet at the same time saying everything. 

“Don’t be silly,” Jane said as she waved him off, already walking deeper into the hallway and then into the exam room. There, she gathered supplies she deemed necessary, her movements quick and deft from experience. “Is it just your face or are you hurt somewhere else?”