the deer on the highway

doctor maeve donovan - geneticist, professor, survivor with three phds.  as saved from the male narrative ( and criminal minds season 8 ) by birdie.

His triumph turns to disappointment when that little yellow circle slides into place and he can see the pattern, the path taken. Shoot. Connect Four, foiled again. Playing it safe by filling up outer corners cost him the goal. ❝ Oh, come on! Best two out of three? I swear you're cheating somehow — but that won't stop me. ❞

Safehouse this. Cabin that. No chance to have actual lasting relationships. No chance to catch up on what's going on in the news.

Temporary stay in Mallory's house. No flying. No lasers. No lights on late. Don't talk to strangers. Homeschooling. Don't stay out after dark. No fast food orders. No loud noises after 7pm.

He hated the word no.

At least he could have contacts she knew over to have some fun. He missed his Lego sets and recording equipment, though. And his mom's favorite movies. And his faked schoolmates, even if they were being paid by Vought to befriend him.

❝ Are you hungry? Aunt Grace said there's drinks in the fridge. And oreos and chips ahoy in the cabinets. I might get some. ❞

it can't be easy. to be a child in his position. to constantly be so powerful and so out of control.

she can relate to half of it, anyway.

"sure you don't want me to fix you up something with a bit more sustenance?" maeve's always preferred to keep busy, to have occupied hands so to speak. and she doubts grace will be happy if her time babysitting is entirely hollow of anything healthy.

. @lookedinfinite maeve asked for hades : [ 005 ] “Why do you keep showing up?”

crimson eyes remained fixed on maeve in silence after her question, though there was nothing truly cold within them tonight, not completely. the sharp distance hades carried so effortessly with the rest of the world seemed thinner around her somehow, worn down slowly over time by repeated visits neither of them aknowledged properly. he stood near the doorway with the same composed stillness he carried everywhere, dark coat draped over broad shoulders, shadows stretching quietly behind him down the apartment hallway like they belonged to him as naturally as breath itself.

perhaps she was right to ask. he should have stopped coming back weeks ago. there was no reason for it anymore. maeve was alive, safe. the man who had hurt her, the man foolish enough to abuse power under hades' name, had long since disappeared into the darkness of consequences only he could provide. the debt should have been settled, clean, simple as that. yet somehow he kept returning.

always under different excuses. to check the locks on her door. to leave food when she forgot to eat, to make certain no unfamiliar cars lingered outside too long. small things, quiet things. the sort of acts hades never performed for anyone else because kindness had always felt dangerously close to weakness in his world. and perhaps what unsettled him most was the fact he could no longer explain why he did them. his gaze studies her carefully now, thoughtful rather than guarded, before the faintest trace of curiosity flickers behind his crimson eyes. ❝ does it bother you ? ❞ he asks quietly.

the answer comes smooth, another question slipping effortlessly in place of a confession he refuses to make. hades had always preferred observation over vulnerability. after all, if his presence truly disturbed her, why did she continue opening the door ? ❝ you are the one who keeps letting me in, ❞ he murmurs after a moment, voice low enough to settle heavily between them. ❝ every time. ❞

people didn't tend to stick around her, another lesson her life hasn't hesitated to claw into tender skin. she comes, she goes, she's a tide whilst everyone else simply visits the beach when the sun and weather demands it. it doesn't take a genius to learn that - generally - people have only stayed longer when her purpose has been a useful one, when they've made a tool of clever mind and too gentle skin.

but here he is. again. and here she is, letting him in. again. she understands the role she herself plays, understands as much as any human can the mix of curiosity and emotions that gnaw beneath her skin begging to be let free. but she doesn't understand him, doesn't understand why his presence is the one that comes back over all others. it feels like a joke - like the universe mocking her with the noose that had previously been around her neck.