#insainted

It was so weird going to find them at this apartment on this floor, and already feeling well on her back foot, none of this was putting her at ease. It felt like a never ending rotation of keeping watch over Roman, getting sick, and trying to keep busy enough to maintain her sanity, but that last part was too hard now that she'd seen him.

With Roman still healing and her brothers either outside of the building of one of the perpetrators of that, there was only one place she wanted to be, or rather... one person. The moment the door open to the pleading of her knocks, Charlie wrapped her arms around Mal in a now practiced way to spare their injuries, pulling back as she finally started to speak with a pained and breaking whisper, allowing only minimal space between them.

"I'm so glad you're feeling better, and up and around. I've missed you so much. I just... I just came from Ashton's and-... Oh, Mal, it's so bad." Hands shaking as she held onto familiar, strong, arms, her distress was written plain on her face. "I don't know what to do anymore... I can't-..."

X

"You could have at least made this a challenge. Fuck Dev obviously because fucking either one of the other two is like one degree away from fucking my brother. Fucking sick. Marry Ash and kill Sada. (Sorry mom, but marrying you is just as weird as thinking of fucking you.)"

So much was going on the building all of a sudden, the flurry of activity only seeming to stir up her own energy levels, and with that had come a bit over overheating. This was when she'd made the discovery that the big window in their apartment didn't open and desperate for a breeze, her attempts had cracked the frame.

That's when she'd found herself on a mission for the caretaker, which took far longer than she thought it would had had her standing in front of a door at the end of one of the weird third floor apartments. No one had answered there and that whole floor was so creepy. Finally, she was sure she'd found the right place, all the way back up on eight. What an adventure.

Fidgeting in place as she waited for her musical little knock to be answered, she started to speak the moment the door opened even a fraction.

X

"I wonder how rough they like to play."

X

Mal (JP):

"She doesn't deserve what she got out of all this. Fucking collateral damage as Sada would call it, but that still doesn't make it fair. I wonder if it would makes things worse if I went and checked on them too."

Devan (Ethan):

"Something is seriously off about that guy. He has more fucking secrets than I do and I fucking kill people for fun. What I wouldn't give to pick his brain about them."

Gray (Pet):

When: Early May

Where: Penthouse

John-Paul rarely talked to himself, but he had been rambling on for what seemed like hours as he paced in his room and he still wasn't sure what he wanted to say. Well that wasn't entirely true. He knew what he wanted to say. He always knew what he wanted to say.

Despite what he may have projected, John-Paul's years of therapy had, at the very least, equipped him with a deep understanding of his feelings. Even the uncontrollable ones. But understanding them was one thing. Actually orating them, another. And John-Paul never had been good with words.

The quiet click of the stairwell door closing broke through his latest practice run and he froze. His heart started beating faster. Okay. Okay. Everything is fine. Just... He managed to take a calming breath, shivering softly through the exhale, his nerves electrified as he headed out of his room and headed out to the hall.

When: End of April

Where: Mal's condo

Step nine.

Amends.

Righting his wrongs. That was what he was doing. What he had to do. John-Paul couldn't leave things the way they were between him and Mal - one of the only people he truly trusted, who knew damn near everything about him, even things Charlie and Jeremiah weren't privy to. Whether they realized it or not, they are his best friend. Were anyway. Now they weren't even talking. Because of his fucking mental bullshit. Nevermind that it as always exaserbated by his drug use.

He shook away the spiraling blame and reminders of all his faults threatening to derail him as he headed down the hall, straight to Mal's new condo. Amends fucker. Stay on track. His heart began to pound and his hands trembled lightly, the soft click of bottles quietly ringing out because of it. He shook his free hand in an attempt to release his apprehension, the sensation snaking its way thorugh his torso. John-Paul whispered his planned speech to get back in Mal's good graces to himself as he came to a stop at their door and knocked.