widows_kiss | IC Contact

[ Blake's head comes up and her gives her a look, something a little too impatient and frustrated. That alone should say enough about how he's feeling since it's not his general approach these days. ]

Hold on—! Just slow down with all that, okay? It's not news to me, trust me. Crowley's always been upfront 'bout that sorta thing, and even if he wouldn't've been, Dean was pretty quick to be givin' out those details.

[ His head drops down into his hands and he lets out a long breath. ]

That's not what's worryin' me, not really. It's— He's done good things here, Tash. That's what bothers me, 'cause when he goes home... It's like nothin' changed. And if Sam starts holdin' him responsible for things he hasn't—

[ Blake holds up a hand. ] Forget it, forget it. This is— it's gettin' outta hand. I'll just— I'll ask him and that'll— [ Blake stands, obviously on some kind of roll with this line of thinking. ] He won't lie, so I'll just— ...ask him.

[ He's been running in circles since talking to Sam. Mostly alone, which does him no favors. ]

Blake. When we go home, nothing does change.

[ She speaks the words softly as she straightens, pushes herself to her feet when he starts to pace. She watches him with an intent stare, understanding. ]

That doesn't mean things don't change while we're here. And maybe they could, back home, if we're given the right chances. Here... all the rules get thrown out the window here. Sometimes what happens at home doesn't apply to here. We're shaped by the people we meet, the experiences we endure, the connections we make. That changes everything.

So is this about Crowley or Sam? Or you? [ Because there's a reason he's here in her room tonight and not one of those others. ]

[ There is a reason he's here but he doesn't like to think about it. He doesn't want to admit that he's avoiding his room, keeping his distance from Crowley, ignoring phone calls... For that matter, he can't stop thinking about how Christmas is just around the corner and he'll never forget all the memories that brings with it. ]

It's— i-it's gotta be me, right? Just lettin' this — all of this — eat away at me for what?

[ He stops, his hands in his hair, eyes sliding closed while he takes a long, deep breath. ]

Not ready. To know somethin' or- or ask somethin' of him. Of Crowley. That's me. That's why I'm here. Safe Haven. Some place I don't gotta think to hard, where there aren't— aren't a lotta reminders of anything but— but good.

[ And then, maybe a tad telling, he can't help but biting out a few more words. ]

I trust him. If that was a mistake— Christ... Wouldn't be the first time, but dammit.

[ Natasha watches him pace, watches him doubt himself and Crowley and god knows what else and after a moment she gets up and comes to a stop in front of him, reaching out to drag his hands out of his hair, her fingers wrapping around his in a warm grip as she looks up and holds his gaze with a serious expression, giving him something to focus on that isn't his own spiraling thoughts. ]

Stop that. You're only going to drive yourself mad thinking like that and it doesn't help.

Forget about what anyone's said, for the moment. All of it. Everything you've heard. Tell me about Crowley instead. You have good instincts, Blake. Not perfect, but no one's is, not even mine. You trust him. Has he ever said or done anything to you that would make you suspect that trust is misplaced?

No, he's— [ Blake huffs. ] Well, yes, but those were— there's details there that make— The circumstances weren't—

[ Ugh. John doesn't know how he managed to get so wrapped up and turned around, but it's obvious that it's taking a toll. Thank god for Natasha, who he finds himself trusting almost implicitly after all they've shared. ]

He kidnapped me. Put a brain-suckin' slug on my head. Mercilessly courted me for months and it— Some of it wasn't right, pretty sure 'bout that, but I think— I know he was tryin' to do the right thing. By me, at least. And for me.

[ Which probably drives Blake the craziest of all, as he'd much rather Crowley care about everyone else more than he cares about Blake himself, but the odds of that are pretty slim at this point. ]

'm not crazy... He does care. [ That last part's practically a whisper. ]

Of course he does. [ Natasha says it matter-of-factly, without a hint of doubt in her voice. ] I saw him, after you'd died. We talked. I think he cares more for you than either of you are comfortable admitting, but I also think it's mutual.

[ She gives him a knowing look at that, wry and fond. ] Stop thinking you're crazy. You're not. Well, other than the whole bat thing, that may make me think you're crazy, but don't start second-guessing your relationship with Crowley over something that happened outside of here.

This place changes things. Changes people. There are opportunities experienced and connections made that completely alter what path we might have taken if we'd never come here. Hell, last week a friend tried to kill me and the only reason I'm standing here is my enemy saved my life. If you'd have told the me from back home that, I'd have never believed it.

[ That's mostly Blake's point to over people — Wonderland changes people — but he doesn't think everyone agrees that it's enough, and that's especially important when it comes to Crowley.

Of course, he can't quite think about that because he's spending his time fixating over the fact that Crowley really does mean more to him than Blake's comfortable admitting. If anything, he'd call it co-dependency, but in reality, it probably goes a lot deeper than that (not that he understands or wants to understand the nuances of a pseudo-relationship in general). ]

No, I— I hear you on that one. Some people come at you outta left field, and it's not always in the way you think they're gonna...

[ Mostly, though, this seems like the end of Blake's sudden tantrum. He runs a hand down his face. ]

Can I stay here? Just a night or so. You don't mind, do you? Even take the floor if I gotta.

[ Her expression softens when his shoulders droop, his hand rubbing tiredly over his face, and she takes a step closer to him, wraps one arm around his waist as she gives him a hug. She rests her chin against his shoulder as she gives him a light squeeze, because he looked like he needed it. ]

Of course you can. You didn't even need to ask. And you can share the bed, since I sort of ruined my couch and didn't replace it yet. It's big enough, after all. Although if you start snoring or steal all my blankets, I do reserve the right to kick you off onto the floor. [ She teases him with that, pulling back to give him a fond but impish look. ]

Yeah, fair enough, fair enough. Promise I won't take up much room either way.

[ Although he might accidentally spoon with her, let's be real. But it's just because he's a secret snuggler and she should probably know that already, all things considered.

He leans in and presses a kiss to her cheek before drifting away to go get changed. ]

Thanks, Tash.

You're welcome.

[ She just grins fondly after him and goes to turn down the bed, since there was now going to be two, giving him the privacy to change. When he comes back out, she's already propped up on the side she normally sleeps on, pillows propped up behind her against the headboard. She's still wearing what she had been - yoga pants and a sports bra - and looks perfectly content to stay that way. ]

IC Contact

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject