#regretrot

“Think I could use this to topple evil coffee shop chains? Start with a workers comp lawsuit and go from there?”

“I got mad at my phone and broke it. Haven’t felt like getting a new one yet.” She can only imagine how many other people are trying to contact her, and she doesn’t want to deal with it. “Is that all?”

"i need to find my goddamn wrench." she could have sworn she'd had it a second ago, and then suddenly it was just gone in a poof. because she needed it. because she needed something else to focus on. someone had left a partially rebuilt car a few streets over when they'd moved, and it had become june's project when she needed to think or when she was choosing not to. today's problem was the latter. baking in her garage with a fan that barely did any good was better than doing something that gave her time to think in depth. she didn't mean to snap at tig, it wasn't his fault they were in some shit and she was trying to put distance between herself and it. she wiped her hands on a rag, shoulders falling. "i don't like feeling helpless, okay."

she shook her head, back pressed against the door. "no, no one followed me. who would possibly follow me here?" cassandra was careful and she lived alone. it wasn't like her dad or any of scott's pack was keeping track of her like that. "i'm not sharing my location on my phone or anything either." that wasn't unusual for her, she wasn't the type that let people just track where she was. not that it prevented werewolves from being able to sniff her out. "no one knows i'm here, peter. you can relax." not that he minded being in this position all that much.

couch. sender and receiver wake up after accidentally napping on the couch together. evan buckley & sage fletcher. ( @regretrot. )

some smart ass comment sat on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back in favor of real human empathy. outside their own circles, there were so few people they could talk to that she knew a conversation ending bite would be just that. she swallowed it down and reformatted that instinct into something kinder. she had been the one who came when she was called after all. "i know the feeling." angel approached him slowly. she looked down at his hands and took them anyway, she didn't care about the grime, about taking on the evidence as her own. "let's go wash off," angel suggested. "we can talk, or not talk, but i think you'll feel better when it's not physically on you." she knew it was more than physical, sometimes all she could see was the blood on her hands and the acts she'd become responsible for even when she was fresh out of the shower. and she'd been in this for less time than tig had. "that work for you?" she met his gaze again, finally stilling.

the question surprised her, but then again so had stiles confidently walking into her bar. it wasn't busy given how early it was so she didn't feel the need to usher him out to the back or the manager's office to have this conversation. there wasn't anyone who was going to overhear them yet. the rush wouldn't hit for a while and nicole wouldn't be working it tonight. she set the knife down, setting it and the cutting board of limes aside. "what do you mean fight?" surely there was someone more qualified, one of the argents or hell, stiles' own father. she wasn't against the idea entirely. "what are you looking for? being able to not get your ass whooped or actually hold your own?" they were two different things, surviving and fighting back.

whether she'd be staying the night when reese needed her wasn't a question. it was a given. she didn't mind at all. it was just what friends did for each other. stevie worked the spatuala under a pancake with a wiggle and flipped it over. "i'm always going to be here if that's what it takes," she assured her. it was just that simple. "i'm really glad to hear you're feeling better, reese."