#bye storm

[chimichangasanddoorknobs]

Deadpool Volume 3 #15  

Punkin’

[john-h-moore]

Lighting, Injury Reserve, 2022

[ep2]

[rorykillmore]

alana/avari - you don’t have to stay

It has been a little over a week and a half since Avari’s rescue, and this - for all of her own worry, and misgivings about Muchomon being able to handle such a delicate recovery period, for all of her instinctive impulses to be there - is the first time Alana has seen her since.

It’s not the first time they’ve had coffee together, but it’s the first time they’ve retreated with it to the woods behind Alana’s house - where there is quiet and seclusion when the dogs aren’t running about, and the illusion of stability. In an event that perhaps took both of them by surprise, it was Avari who arranged this.

Except Alana is not naive enough to interpret it as an effort to reach out. This is a courtesy, she thinks. Maybe they’ve been through too much, by now, to walk away without a goodbye.

The only thing that puzzles her is Avari’s hesitation, the way she hasn’t spoken a word yet, the way she seems to be drawing it out. There is a haunting quality to her blankness, now - it feels more like emptiness than layers veiled and guarded. She is not nearly as visibly traumatized as Melanie was, initially, but Alana worries all the same.

Another moment of silence is all it takes, and then Alana decides to make it easy for her. “You don’t have to stay.” Slowly, Avari’s gaze shifts back wards her as she continues.

“It’s alright, Avari. I know. This has gone too far.” She pauses. Makes sure her voice is steady. “I never wanted you to get hurt, but that doesn’t change anything. It never does.”

Perhaps her voice is less steady than she means for it to be -- perhaps it betrays how many times Hannibal has done this, because Avari’s gaze lowers and her response isn’t as to-the-point as Alana would have expected.

“You tried to warn me,” she says finally. “And he’s the one who did this. Not you. ...But this is too dangerous, Alana. I’m sorry.”

She even sounds like she means it, and all Alana can think is -- she’s only hurting Avari more. Again.

“Don’t be.” Her voice softens a fraction. She lifts her hand, touches Avari’s arm only for a moment. It’s as much as she dares to reach out to her, anymore. “...I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.” She wants to, still. But she can’t ask Avari to risk any more.

“...Me too.” The response is barely audible, and neither of them say anything else as they continue forward, side by side, for the last time.

[chlones]

Our bird just died (we think)

Julie: He didn't throw him out yet, did he?

Me: No.

Julie: Good. He might not he totally dead.

Me: Right, not totally.

Dad: Just a little bit dead.

Julie: No. Remember last time? He was down but eventually got back up.