#queue need me

Karen tapped her fingers along the steering wheel as she drove down a winding road. She wasn’t surprised Will lived in isolation after all these years but she was surprised that he could manage the sticky heat. The swamps had a special charm, though,  nature grew without man’s intervention--man couldn’t conquer the swamp. There’s the fleeting thought of how many bodies these swamps have hidden at the bottom, but it’s gone as soon as the gps alerts an upcoming turn. 

The change in scenery was...Necessary. Swapping looming buildings for trees was a welcomed shift. It reminded her a little of Vermont, but the colors and culture were brighter. There was more passion, more heart--Louisiana had a taste for life. Karen pushed her sunglasses up and onto her face. She should be coming up on his place, soon. Ten minutes. 

Visiting Will was impromptu and planned all at once. She had called him the night of Evan’s memorial, a few drinks in and remembering the past. She thought of calling her father, but she recalled his easy dismissal of her; he hadn’t reached out since that brush with death. ( Karen had nearly died a few more times since then ) So, calling Paxton was out of the question. She contemplated deleting his number.

Instead she looked up an old friend. His number had changed since they last spoke, but it didn’t take long to find it. His voice was a little gruff, but it was Will. The man who cared so much it hurt him. Karen could never understand how he could manage that until the last few years; she knew too well. Ultimately, he offered her a place to stay while she took a break.

Matt and Foggy insisted for her to go when she told them. Leaving with little notice felt wrong ( even though they hardly had clients ) , so they scheduled her vacation to start later that month. Karen had two weeks with Will. Two weeks in the southern sun to bounce back. To get better---to reconnect. Her associates thought it was a great idea and she hadn’t heard from Frank since the hospital so...

There was no reason to say no. She rented an old car from a shady, but legal, business in New York and started driving. It’s a long trip, but she took naps at a few rest stops and stayed caffeinated. Besides, isolation in the car for two days sure beat an apartment. At home she was alone yet surrounded. Out here, it was just her and the car. It settled something in her bones.

By the time she pulled into the beaten driveway in front of his residence, Karen had less of an edge to her movements. She fidgeted less. Exiting the car, she could hear the familiar sound of dogs barking, some with more excitement than alert. A small smile crept onto her lips as she tugged her suitcase from the backseat. She loved dogs. 

Her knuckles rapped against the screen door three times  ( As  if Will couldn’t hear his own dogs and didn’t get her text from thirty minutes ago ) 

“Door unlocked?” She called out.

another night, another risk, right? she’s met multiple vigilantes and managed to maintain some form of a relationship with two of them. they’ve both got it in their heads that they’re already dead, so they must be immortal ( which is stupid ) . however...maybe that mindset has rubbed off on her a little.  she takes her mortality less seriously, nowadays. she still carries mace and a gun--she’s not ridiculous--and she knows basic self defense. 

frankly, she’s much more prepared to snoop around a few under policed areas in New York than she was before. karen had been comfortable attempting these stunts before the blip (she hates that name; it trivializes what fellow initial survivors went through) and she couldn’t even disarm someone to save her life. a lot changed in those five years. her heart barely stutters when she notices a car starting to tail her, the headlights off and riding slow. she focuses on what she looks like instead of panicking. 

jeans, and a big black hoodie with the hood up. she turns a sharp corner down an ally that the car can’t follow. karen keeps her strides smooth and confident, turning at random as she alters her appearance. it’s easy, really, she unzips her hoodie and turns it inside out ( the lining is a soft green ) then takes her hair down from the bun. she pulls a baseball cap from her bag and slips it over head. 

karen faintly hears a few voices (” spread out “) so she makes the split decision to join a man sitting against a brick wall. he seems harmless enough, and he’s probably less trouble than whoever is coming. she walks over to the man, movements easy.

“i’m gonna--sit here just for a second. do you mind?” she’s already sliding down the wall and tucking her bag out of view. karen took some valuable pictures tonight that is going to cost some bad people money in court. “i’ll be outta your hair in just a second.” 

August was still looking at her with a concerned frown, his arms crossed over his chest as she tried to find some sort of words of reassurance. None of it was particularly working, though. He was watching her pack her bag, watching her as she set the gloves down and crossed the room over to him. And as she settled herself briefly against his chest, he sighed, rolling his eyes a little when she said she could take a punch. He knew that. He didn't think she couldn't, but that didn't change the dangers that came with what she called her "hobby."

Biting his lip softly, he wrapped his arms round her waist, looking her in the eyes as he spoke. " I know. I know that. I know you're a tough girl, but that doesn't change the fact that you've got bruises from this... hobby. "

He looked down quietly, brows coming together in a thoughtful, though still concerned frown. His fingers gently stroked the small of her back as he kept her in his arms. He blinked forcefully once or twice as he looked back up at her and added with a shrug,

" I- I mean, couldn't you pick up like... I dunno... Reading? That's- that's a good hobby. That's a good-- A good, safe hobby. "

Of course, he knew his words would have no impact. Knew he was just talking and really it was a ridiculous suggestion. If she loved to do this, she... Loved it. And at the end of the day he would support her in it. However, that didn't change that right now he was very much afraid of the damage a hobby like this could do. Then again, he also had a very hard time understanding how anyone could find fighting fun. Every time he got into a fight, he was left with flash memories of the past few hours, bruised knuckles, and anxiety. Lots of anxiety.

He knew this was different. Knew it was professional and safe... er. It was safer than the kind of thing he saw in the movie Fight Club and safer than his own experiences. She had gloves and headgear for a reason, though. Protection. Protection because it was dangerous. Still dangerous.

" All I'm saying is I... I want to support you, but I... I'm scared. That's- that's all. " He paused, allowing his gaze to meet hers again. " I don't like seeing you all... Bruised. "

At the feeling of her shifting away slightly from where she was tucked against his side, he looked down at her to watch her lips for movement. As much as he didn't like to admit it, August was insecure. Maybe not as much as his younger brother, but enough that he could appreciate things a little more than the average person. Appreciated Sophia and all she did for him. Appreciated that she loved him despite all his flaws.

A lopsided little grin brushed his lips as he watched her unsteadily sign her words, reading her lips alongside it to be sure he understood. He could feel his face growing hot just watching her try to sign. That was another thing he appreciated. Her effort. She made such much more of an effort in this relatonship than anybody ever had.

Biting his lip shyly, he desired to hide his red cheeks, but knew he couldn't look away while she was still speaking. He had to read all she had to say even if she already had him flushing. He knew she loved him, of course. She made that much very obvious, but it still amazed him that she could love him and what amazed him even more was that she truly believed all of those things she was saying about him. Talented, sweet, amazing. Kind, understanding, perfect. He knew he was so far from that, so far from the perfect boyfriend, but he really tried to be. He tried to be everything she needed. Apparently he was doing a good job at it despite his internal system of doubts.

His shyness only amplified when she kissed him and he folded his palms over hid face briefly as a breath of nervous laughter escaped him. Though, his hands quickly fell so he could watch her again, still beaming sheepishly the more she went on. She loved he was deaf. Loved it. She loved that flaw. He never thought he meet anyone who thought that. Most everyone he met saw it as a disability, a nuisance, even if he explained that being deaf had its advantages. Some tolerated it, others didn't mind it, but nobody had ever said they loved it along with all of the other parts of him.

His teeth bit down all the harder on his lip as she brushed her nose against his, his own nose scrunching up just a bit against hers. Another brief burst of laughter was given when she added that she loved his curls. His bright, vivid, wild curls. Those curls that for a long couple of years he had refused to dye anything but dark brown, refused to leave them in their natural curly state. Not because he wanted to spend hours straightening his mohawk every morning or missing the bright colours he so often sported before that point, but to please. To please someone he had never been able to please and never would be able to.

Swallowing hard, he finally ducked his head down when she finished. He tensed up his shoulders a bit, his grip tightening on the edge of the back of the couch where his hand was resting. He could feel his chest tightening with tears and forced them down. It seemed so silly. To cry like that. Especially about something so small. But she made him feel good. Made him feel loved. Made him feel like he was perfect the way he was, like he didn't need to change for her, and that was such a change from his last relationship... In a way, he had been afraid to start their relationship those few months back when they had decided to try. Afraid because of what he had been through before. Even if he did trust Sophia. Now, she was giving him less reasons to be afraid.

" I... I don't know what to say... " He had to give pause for a long moment before starting to formulate words and when he finally did speak they came out quite unsteady, a bit choked. He didn't know how to express what he was feeling at the moment. Really, he had said those words, expressed his disbelief for her love for him because he was so worried that she didn't. Worried that they were just faking it. That somehow everything they had going was pointless. He was feeling insecure, anxious, and slightly depressed of late. Not that it was her fault because she could never cause that in him, only make him feel better. He had said it because it really did surprise him every moment of every day and now more than ever.

" Y- you-- You know I- I love you too, it... I... Everything... About you.. You....... Thank you... "

Swallowing hard, he moved to wrap his arms around her, cuddling himself up against her and nuzzling his face into her shoulder.

" It-- You.. You never cease to amaze me. "

In. Out. In. Out. Remember to breathe. He had to breathe. But he just couldn't. It was like water was filling his lungs and making him feel sick, making him gasp for air. His hands pulled tightly through the hair atop his head, ripping a few strands out as he tugged.

" I can't-- I- I- I- I-- "

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to catch his breath. He tried to listen to Enola, to bring himself down off the panicked high, but every time he closed his eyes he saw the same thing. That old rusty kitchen faucet turning on, slowly filling up the sink.

Eyes squeezing shut, he pressed his hands to his mouth, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out shakily in a desperate groan of fear and pain. His lungs hurt from trying so hard to breathe and it was starting to make him feel dizzy. His hands then moved down to his neck, gripping gently, clawing at invisible hands around his throat, and as he heard Enola's voice gently break through the torturous pictures in his mind, he looked up at her, still hyperventilating, still desperately gasping for any hint of breath. He didn't know what else to do other than to look at her through those desperate, tear-stained eyes, his shaking hands slowly tugging at his hair again.

" It's- And- He- I- I- I-- "

He couldn't even seem to make a single coherent sentence and all of a sudden he found himself stumbling forward, his legs giving way beneath him. Reaching out swiftly, he grabbed Enola's shoulders to try and steady himself, but only ended up collapsing against the couch, his breath slowing, but still coming in shaking hitches, his eyes gazing up at Enola dizzily. His body felt heavy and he was starting to reach a point where if he didn't take in a proper breath of air, he wouldn't be able to stay conscious.

Rhys had been sitting at the edge of a very high building when Enola had found him. Quite frankly, he wasn't even sure how she followed him up there without his noticing, but she had. And now there she was, trying to get him to come down. When he had first heard her voice, he nearly jumped out of his skin, quickly standing up on the ledge he had first been seated upon and spinning round to face her.

" Don't- don't come any closer, " were the first sharp words to escape his lips as he backed up against the ledge, teetering on the very edge. He was threatening her. If she came closer, he swore he would jump. And he wasn't playing around. He knew that if anyone found him up there he could be in a world of trouble, but he figured if worst came to worst he could just jump. He held little value for his own life anymore anyway. At least at the moment.

However, as she began to promise him she wouldn't take him away, he tensed up, not sure if he believed her. Why wouldn't she? Wouldn't he be safest all locked up in that awful place? Safe from himself? At least, that's what his brother thought and he figured Enola would feel much the same considering how close the two seemed to have gotten.

Silently, he stared at her with wide eyes, his breath coming in slow, yet panicked heaves, his eyes filled with glittering tears that shined in the moonlight. He watched her as her hand reached out toward him, but he didn't make a move to take it, quickly shaking his head.

" No, I need you to go, I need you to leave, " he shouted, beginning to sign along with his words out of both sheer habit and nerves. Small tears slowly dripped down his cheeks and he blinked, quickly reaching up to wipe them away before they became noticeable.

" Please... " The word was mumbled, soft and broken, shaking with his breath, his hands trembling slightly as he signed the word.