Michelle had shuffled her lessons plans into order and left them on the coffee table before grabbing some food. It was lunch time, after all, and while she’d promised Jason cheeseballs, she set out some other snacks as well. She thought best with food, after all. The last time he’d come over was after his little parking-lot mishap. He’d looked like shit but brought her food all the same. It didn’t take much convincing for her to patch him up a bit. She was lucky that both times he’d been hurt it only took a bit of prompting to let her help. Really, she just hated seeing people hurt, if she could do something about it. Michelle wasn’t a bleeding heart, but she wasn’t calloused either– at least not to some people.
She didn’t really have to clean much around her apartment either, which was a plus. Michelle wasn’t a neat-freak by any definition of the term, but she did like it when things were put where they belonged. Order was a relative word which usually meant books piled high in the order she was reading them or had already read them. They were tucked into one of the corners of her living room, with a few bookmarked ones on the wooden coffee table. Some blankets were tossed over her couch– the softest of which was her favorite– both something to keep her warm but also a keepsake from Scotland. Her home was filled with them, little nothings that held no meaning to anyone other than her. But she liked that.
Humming to herself, Mitch filled a small, copper tea-kettle with water, not having an actual watering pot, and grabbed one of the dining room chairs. She wrinkled her nose at the sound of it scrapping the floors, thinking she should have brought the water over first before going for the seat. But Michelle dragged it over to the window, anyway, somehow managing to keep the water from spilling before she stood on the chair. Tiptoeing, she reached up to water her hanging plants, careful to keep her balance– making a mental note that she should put them in a more accessible place.
It was the doorbell that threw her off, even if she should have expected it, and Michelle let out a small noise of surprise. She gripped the wall, balancing herself as a string of curses followed when she spilled quite a bit of water onto the ground. Lest she lose her balance completely, Michelle hopped of the chair and gave a sigh. She set the kettle on the table and grabbed a towel before walking over to the door. Pulling it open, she gave Jace an easy smile “Hey! Ready to be a gold-star worthy student?” Her tone was teasing as she moved to let him in as she went over to the small puddle she’d made. “Apparently balancing on a chair on my tip-toes isn’t the best idea.” She nodded at the hanging plants above the chair and puddle by way of explanation.
Bar Nights & Bar Fights || Jason & Michelle || Chatzy || 08/01/15
Jason and Michelle go out for drinks when they run into an old acquaintance of Michelle’s. Words are exchanged and Jason gets into a fight with him before Mitch manages to break it up and they go to his place to patch him up.
Michelle: Truth be told, she hadn't expected to go out with Jason again, well, not so soon but they'd had fun at Disney and the more they talked, Mitch didn't mind him. Not that she had in the first place, but he was easy to be around and she liked that, especially given past circumstances. She'd gotten ready a bit before he was set to swing by, dressed enough for a bar but nothing to fancy before there was a knock on her door. Mitch opened it, smiling slightly at him. "Heya, come on in, I'll be two seconds."
Jason: Michelle had proven fun to be around, and so Jason was rather enthusiastic about seeing her again. He had grown a bit curious about her, and so figured somewhere quiet would be better to sit down and talk. Upon her opening the door, he offered a friendly 'hey', and then stepped inside, shutting the door behind him before glancing around her home. It was definitely nicer than the slummy studio he lived in, at least until he got enough money saved up to make it look decent or move elsewhere. "Two seconds and counting. Let's go." He called teasingly, clapping his hands as if to hurry her along.
Michelle: "Don't be a dick." She laughed, though, grabbing her black bag and slinging it over her shoulders as she stuffed keys and her phone into it. "Ready, captain," she mock-saluted him, wrinkling her nose in amusement before pushing his back with two hands, ushering him towards the door. "Lessgo." Once they were out, she locked the door behind her and nodded at him. "So, motorcycle? I will do my best not to die on you."
Jason: Jason chuckled, turning and purposefully leaning back against her hands as she pushed him towards the door, waiting once they stepped outside for her to lock the door. "Just hold on tight, you'll be fine as long as you don't let go." He told her, moving over to the sleek red bike parked nearby. There were two helmets resting on the seat, one of which he held out for Michelle to take. "Pop that one and climb on behind me when you're ready." He told her, reaching for his own helmet which he slid over his head before throwing a leg over his bike and sliding into the seat. He kicked back the stand, allowing the bike to rely on his feet on the ground to stay up right.
Michelle: She half laughed, rolling her eyes as he leaned back. "Arse." Mitch walked beside him, grabbing the helmet, looking on at the bike. "Right. Hold tight." She nodded, more to convince herself before looking at him unsure for a brief moment. She pulled the helmet over her head and nodded, following his instructions as she swung a leg over the seat and then pressing them against his thighs, arms going around his waist. "Alright, uh," she shifted slightly to adjust before nodding against his back. "Ready." Michelle squeezed her eyes shut,preparing for the roar of the engine.
Jason: Jason laughed, the sound muffled inside his padded helmet. The engine was loud for the size bike it was, giving off a steady growl as Jason kicked it into gear and started off slow. He pulled up his legs, resting the tread of his shoes on either side of the bike as he moved towards the road. There was no traffic coming, so he didn't stop, instead revving the engine before giving it a burst of acceleration. He wasn't too crazy with it, not wanting to startle Mitch and scare her into taking a cab after they were done at the bar. Moving smoothly in between cars they passed, Jason slowed at the first red light, boots catching the ground and holding the bike still as he lowered a hand and gently patted the top of one of her arms wrapped around him. "You ok?" He asked over his shoulder, speaking loudly so he could be heard.
Michelle: As soon as they began moving, Michelle couldn't help but hold onto him tighter, gangly arms wrapping around his middle (his, incredibly defined middle, mind you) as she leaned into him more. She opened her eyes after a brief moment, seeing the ground rush beneath them before they came to a stop. She couldn't help but laugh, feeling the adrenaline of it more than she thought she would. "Yes." She grinned, though he couldn't see. "I'm still alive, aren't I?" Michelle nodded before the light turned green again.
Jason: Grinning, Jason put the bike into movement once more, picking up speed to what was typically more normal for him. The beach side bar and grill wasn't too far down the road, and after a few minutes more of driving, it came into view. Pulling into the relatively small parking lot, Jason took a snug spot off in the corner, away from most vehicles. He slid off his bike, unbuckling his helmet to rest it in between the handle bars. The bar was snug against the sand, a large back deck overlooking the ocean just a short walk away. "Made it one piece...though if you had hung on any tighter, you probably would have cut me in half." He teased.
Michelle: Once they arrived, she retracted her arms from his waist, taking off the helmet. Michelle ran a hand through her hair, making a face at his words, laughing. "Sorry. Better you than me." It had been fun, though, and were she a braver soul, she might have considered it a while ago, but she'd stopped being that brave soul back in England and this was as adventurous as she'd get for a while. "So, where's this bar you've been going on about?"
Jason: "Come on." He said, nodding to the small building. There was a small staircase leading to the front door, and Jason pushed it open, catching it with his fingertips as Michelle walked in behind him. The inside was a small restaurant style setting, with large sliding glass doors leading to the deck and outside bar. Jason led the way out, nodding to the bartender and glancing around at the few people already seated at counter. "Hey, can I get a Yuengling?"He called to the man behind the bar before looking to Michelle. "What ya want?"
Michelle: Michelle trailed after him, glancing around the restaurant with a slight smile, "this is really nice." She tilted her head slightly at Jason, brow raised. "DId you just happen upon it?" It had a great view, something Michelle was partial to . When he ordered a beer, Mitch paused for a brief moment before nodding at him. "I'll have a mojito, thanks." It was a warm summer night but the ocean breeze made it more refreshing than oppressive. Michelle was glad she'd said yes to going out again.
Jason: "Yeah, during one of my many exploration drives." He answered, reaching for the open beer bottle and taking a sip as he leaned against the barn counter. The mojito was quick to follow, Jason reaching for it and handing it over to Michelle. He nodded to the railing on the edge of the deck, a small vacant table nestled between to others offering a great sight of the lowering sun. "Wanna plop down over there?"
Michelle: "I should explore more. I usually stay more downtown than by the beach, though. Unless I'm actually coming to the beach." She nodded at his suggestion, taking the drink from him. After taking a sip, she hopped off the bar stool and followed him. "Shit, this has an amazing view. " There weren't as many people at this end of the beach and the sun was setting, it's colors painting the sky reds and oranges. She sat down, smiling as she stared at it for a moment. "I always loved sitting on the beach and just watching the day end."
Jason: Jason sat opposite her, his beer bottle coming to rest on the table as he held it between his hands and looked out over the splash of colors against the sky. They were beginning to reflect against the water, making the sight twice as beautiful. "I think I'm becoming more of a beach bum myself." Jason chuckled. "There's tons of amazing views out here, but these beaches are perfect around this time and when there aren't many people out and about."
Michelle: "Well, New York has beaches, right? I mean, I guess Jones Beach has nothing on this." She smiled at him, taking a sip of her drink. "I think so too. Thanks for inviting me–” She was cut off by someone calling her name. "Michelle? Hey, Mitchy!" An arm was suddenly slung over her shoulders and she stiffened before looking at the man touching her. Her brows shot up slightly. "Andrew?" Shit. He was Noah's best friend last time she'd seen him. What the hell was he doing here. "Uh...this is a surprise." She blinked for a moment before remembering Jason and sitting up slightly, Andrew's arms till on her shoulders. "Uh, Jason, this is Drew. He's an old friend." That was an overstatement if there ever was one.
Jason: Jason's eyes had snapped over towards the man approaching Michelle. He was watching him carefully, face remaining neutral as he sized the stranger up. The way Mitch had tensed slightly didn't go unnoticed, now did the way she shifted in her seat. "Hi." Jason offered, beer bottle returning to his lips once more for another drink. His social skills sucked when it came to spontaneously meeting random people...but he knew he was also leaning towards the quiet side because he wanted the guy gone.
Michelle: She wasn't usually so uncomfortable with people but Drew had never been her favorite person.She could tell Jason also wasn't a fan of the interruption. "So, got over Noah already?" Mitch stiffened at his words, shooting him a look. His face was flushed and his breath smelled of booze. "Stop. Just. You said hi, you can go now." She looked at the table, lips pursed. "Come on, Mitch, just kidding. We all know Noah's a dick. Surprised you stayed with him so long" Drew laughed loudly, nodding at Jason. "This girl here, "he squeezed her shoulders, "heartbreaker." He laughed again, clearly havind had a bit too drink already. "Would've had a go myself, but" he grinned at Mitch, "she was in too deep with No, or, " he choked on a drunken laugh, grinning at Jason, "Noah was too deep...in her." He patted Mitch's arm again. "Please go, Drew." He frowned, "ahh, come on, love, just a joke. "
Jason: Jason lowered his bottle, eyes flashing a silent warning to the young man as he watched him, his comments already beginning to get under Jason's skin. What Michelle did was her own business, but the guy was obviously drunk, and just that was enough to piss Jason off. He didn't care much for people who were intoxicated to the point they started acting like jackasses, and as the last 'joke' was voiced, Jason was suddenly rising from his seat, blue eyes blazing. His hands were planted firmly on the tabletop, veins pushing against skin along his arms as he began curling his fingers into a fist. "You've got two seconds to fuck off before I make you." He growled.
Michelle: Michelle could see this going very badly and really, really didn't want Jason to get involved. Drew was an asshole, nothing more, nothing less. "Jason. It's...it's fine." She sighed, pushing Drew's arm off of her. "Just go." He frowned, leaning into her more, "Aw, Mitchy, you never played this hard to get before." He turned to Jason, winking. "She's always been a tease, good luck with this one, maybe you'll get further with her than, Noah." He laughed again, finding his own words so amusing as Michelle cringed internally, trying to keep her face clear of any overt emotions.
Jason: Jason's math may not be the best, but he was damn sure it had been longer than two seconds. His temper may have improved since leaving his gang, but it was still explosive, and when he gave a fair warning to shut up and move on, any action taken after that was on the other guy for not taking him seriously. He was being disrespectful, and clearly upsetting someone Jason considered a good friend. Good enough reason to lean forward suddenly, a vice like grip clutching the Drew's shirt as he jerked him forward, his left fist swinging to the side and catching the man in the side of the head.
Michelle: Everything happened faster than Michelle could keep track of. Before she could do anything, Jason's fist connected with Drew's face and he fell to the ground, gasps leaving the people around them and her too. "Please." Shit, this wasn't good. She stood as Drew grabbed the table he'd been knocked into, throwing a punch at Jason, apparently sober enough to know how to fight. "Drew!" No one was listening, though, as the two went at it.
Jason: As soon as Jason received a hit to the gut, he came back with twice as much ferocity. There was no hesitation, no stopping to gasp for breath or even recognize the pain, the Dead Eyes had long since beaten that out of him. His hand had knocked his beer bottle to the ground, the sound of breaking glass drawing his attention. He curled an arm around Drew's neck, feeling the man pushing against him to knock him off balance. The two of them went to the ground, Jason's shoulder colliding to the ground and catching the sharp ends of broken glass, his free hand fumbled, finding the end of a broken bottle and preparing to use it as a shank. Things were escalating fast, Jason's arm tightening around the man's neck as he tried to put him to sleep, but at the same time his other hand was gripping the glass tightly, meaning to use it if need be.
Michelle: Michelle didn't know what was happening, she saw them fall and gasped. "Shit, Jason!" Shit shit shit shit. Michelle panicked, not sure how to stop. She saw Drew try to hit him again but Jason clearly had the advantage. One of the waiters was walking, trying to break them up but it wasn't working. And as soon as Jason's arm went around Drew's neck, Michelle knew she had to say something and broke out of her frozen state. "Jason!" She grabbed the hand with the glass, not sure what was going, confused and concerned all at once. "Jason." Her voice was softer now, only he could probably hear her over the commotion of everyone else shouting and making noise. "Please." Her hold was gentle but firm on his wrist. She didn't know what he was going to do but she knew there was more to this than just a fight. It was a gut feeling but she didn't question it. "Please."
Jason: Jason was seeing red, his mind a blur of adrenaline and lacking any kind of thought or logic. He could vaguely hear his name, the grip on his wrist making him tense up even more as if he was going to jerk it away, but Michelle's voice reached him and he took his eyes off Drew to glance up at her. Shaking slightly, he dropped the glass and then withdrew his arm, shoving the other man away before climbing to his feet. His shoulder was stinging but he ignored it, reaching for the table so he could lean against it and take a moment to catch his breath. He heard someone ask if he needed an ambulance, but he didn't respond. Instead he looked from Drew to Michelle, eyes clouded with confusion and something close to exhaustion.
Michelle: She met his gaze before he dropped the glass, pushing Drew away. Michelle shot the other a dirty look as he gasped for breath and turned to Jason, hesitant to touch him again but she spoke in a calm voice. "Let's get out of here." She began to lead him to the door, ignoring the stares of other patrons as they headed toward the exit. He needed to get out of here. They both did.
Jason: Jason silently went with her, his clouded mind beginning to clear up as they left the group of people behind and stepped out into the parking lot. "Mitch...I'm...fuck I'm sorry about that." He said finally, his voice thick. He doubted she would want anything to do with him after that little display. It had been the first time he'd completely lost his temper since leaving New York, and it had left him startled by his own actions.
Michelle: She shook her head at his apology, waving it off. "He's a dick." She turned to look at him, sincerity on her face. "Thank you." He'd done it for her. And it was a strange thing to be aware of. Anyone doing anything for her that wasn't to make them look good or earn her graces. "Don't apologize for that." She grabbed the helmets, handing one to him and pulling it one over her head. She wouldn't make him feel bad for that. And there was something else going on. And she wasn't sure how to approach it, but there was something in her that wanted to. He was a puzzle and there was a part of her that felt compelled to listen how she'd want to be listened to. How no one would listen to her. And she wanted to give that to Jason. In whatever way he'd take it. Besides, Drew was one of the biggest assholes she'd known and there was a part of her that felt relieved he'd gotten what was coming to him.
Jason: Jason was surprised that his response was one of gratitude. This had maybe been the first time his fighting was taken in a positive way sine he left his gang, and he wasn't entirely sure what to make of that. Glancing over his shoulder once more, he took the other helmet and slipped it on, kicking the bike's stand back before mounting it. There was no reason for anymore exchange in words, Jason wanting to get far away from this place for the time being. He waited for the familiar arms to wrap around him and then he took off, his speed double what it had been before. It was a nice way to lower his anxiety, clear his head as he felt the wind press against him. He didn't slow, managing to run a few yellow lights as he made his way back home. Once he pulled into the parking lot and killed the bike, he sat there for a moment, breathing in his helmet and clutching the handlebars.
Michelle: Michelle climbed on and wrapped her arms around him again, secure enough not to fall off of course, but not too tight. As they rode, she contemplated what she would say...what she should say before deciding that there wasn't much to say really. She was grateful for what he'd done, regardless of the outcome. When they pulled into the parking lot of what she presumed was his apartment complex, she stayed still, arms still around him as they stayed for a moment. "Hey." She leaned back from him, slinging her leg over again. She took off the helmet and gently placed a hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Let's get that cleaned up, yeah?" She began walking towards the building, if only go give him a moment to compose himself. Sometimes all you needed was a second on your own, to learn to breathe again.
Jason: Jason had almost entirely forgotten about his shoulder, which now that it was pointed out, had begun to sting again. Finally coming off his bike and shedding his helmet, Jason took the lead to the front door to his apartment, fumbling with his keys only for a moment before unlocking it and pushing it open. His place was far from fancy, in fact it was mostly bare with a few pieces of furniture, his brick walls lacking any decor or pictures. Placing his helmet on the kitchen counter, Jason reached around and gently touched the wound on his shoulder, wincing slightly as he pulled his arm back around to inspect the blood on his fingers. "You're not hurt are you?" He found himself asking, looking to Michelle.
Michelle: She followed him into his apartments, noticing right away that it was sparse with personal touches. She didn't comment on it though when he looked over at her. The brunette gave a small laugh, shaking her head. "I'm not, thanks." She pointed to one of the living room chairs, "why don't you sit down. Do you have a first aid kit or something?" Most people had at least some cotton balls and rubbing alcohol in their bathroom cabinents. "I'll grab them. Do you need help with your shirt?" She figured it might hurt to yank it off with a wounded shoulder, especially with the glass that was presumably embedded in it.
Jason: "I think there's a small one in the bathroom under the sink." He told her, reaching for the hem of his shirt so that he could pull it over his head. "Nah, I got it." It didn't hurt too much, but when he flipped it around and spotted the crimson stain that had been spreading along the rip and tears, he wondered how deep it was. Sitting down on the chair, Jason, drew the ruined shirt over the back of his arm, collecting any stray beads of blood trickling from the cuts.
Michelle: She nodded before going to grab it and coming back out. When she came out, her eyes were drawn to his back and the blood on it more than the scars. Somehow, in the time between Disney and right then, she'd forgotten he even had them. And she continued to forget as she ignored them, pulling a chair so she could sit behind him. "Shit, Jace." She took out the tweezers from the kit, "you have some pieces stuck, I'm going to pull them out, alright?" The last thing she wanted was to startle him by taking them out. She placed one hand gently on his shoulder blade below the wound to steady him before taking the tweezers, "ready?"
Jason: Jason tilted his head towards his shoulder at her comment, seemingly unworried about whatever was going on with his shoulder. It stung sure, but it could have always been something bigger and more damaging than glass. The memories of his hospital time came with a shudder, and he relaxed himself after a moment, knowing the more tense he was the more it would hurt. "Yeah, go ahead." He said, tilting his head a bit upwards to look out the window over the kitchen sink. "So that guy back there seemed like he may be one of many assholes you've hung around." Jason said, giving a small chuckle which was the first piece of evidence he had shaken off his melancholy. "You know...minus me."
Michelle: Michelle bit her lip, concentrating on not hurting him further before taking one of the shards out, wincing as more blood flowed. She placed it on the table before grabbing a cotton swab and dabbing area to soak up some blood before taking another piece out and another, working carefully. At his comment, she gave a dry laugh. "Yeah, I tend to attract that type, apparently." Michelle shook her head, though, chuckling slightly. "You're not, though. And...he...he was never my biggest fan." She thought back to how he acted around her when she was with Noah. "Said I was a prissy bitch who'd leave him before he could blink," she took out another shard, "jokes on him though." The opposite had happened and she'd been left in pieces. "Alright, that's all the pieces I see. I'm going to sanitize it, alright? This'll sting." She dabbed a cotton ball in rubbing alcohol before dabbing at his wound. "You're such a trooper, Jace." Her tone was teasing, as if she was a doctor talking to a child. "We'll get your boo boo fixed up in no time."
Jason: Jason eyed the pieces of glass as they were placed on the table, reaching out to pick one up and hold it between his fingers for a closer look as she continued. He didn't make a sound, holding as still as possible up until the moment she was done cleaning it. "He's not going to give you more problems because of me, is he?" Jason asked, sounding concerned though feeling acutely anxious about that being a possibility. Her 'boo boo' remark drew out another chuckle, his fingers reaching over to drop the glass back on the table. "It's not too bad is it? Wasn't looking for any more marks to add to the collection."
Michelle: As she put a bandaged on the wound, she pursed her lips at Jace's words. "No, I don't think so. I didn't even know he was here." If he was here, Noah might be, but she hoped it was just a trip. Avoiding him would be the best outcome she could think of. "Besides," she poke his back, grinning slightly, "I'll just say you were my body guard, that'd probably make him back off." She was glad he laughed– he seemed to change when he did, it revealed a sort of levity that was otherwise unseen. "Well," she set the kit on the table and pulled the chair around, sitting on it backwards as she crossed her arms on it, "I thought we might have to amputate it, but, I think you'll survive." Michelle wrinkled her nose, teasing before shaking her head at his comment. "It might leave a little mark, but nothing more I imagine." She'd seen the scars on his back and wondered what had caused, as anyone would. But the difference was, Michelle wasn't sure she cared. They didn't make him any more or less Jason.
Jason: "Hm." Jason muttered to himself. "Maybe I should be a bodyguard. Sounds like a good paying job." He mused, rolling his shoulder experimentally and giving another small wince as he did. Well, looked he wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight unless he passed out on his stomach, which he saw as very unlikely. "If it does, no biggie. I didn't know how deep it was, but if it doesn't require stitches then I'll call it a good day. I hate hospitals." He pulled a small face as he remembered the smell and the bleach white walls that offered nothing to look at as he lay there day after day, waiting for the doctors to clear him. "Last time I was in one was for almost three months. Worst experience of my life."
Michelle: "Probably is in LA, though, think of all the crowds you'd have to fend off, depending who you were body guarding for." She made a face at the thought before standing up and going to his kitchen. "Water?" She opened a cabinet comfortably, at ease in his home before grabbing two glasses and helping herself. "Well, amputating it would make being a body guard difficult. Glad you still have that career option open." She put the glass in front of him before sliding back into her seat, brow arches slightly, "Mind if I ask why?" If he said no, she'd wouldn't ask again but she had a feeling that the three months were tied to at least some of the scars on his back.
Jason: "Uh, yeah, please." Jason said, watching Michelle walk into the kitchen area. He enjoyed that- seeing someone comfortable in a home that he wasn't even entirely comfortable in. It somehow made him settle a bit more. He'd never thought of himself as a host of sorts for visitors, just a 'make yourself at home and don't break shit' type of guy. Reaching for the glass, Jason sipped at the water as she asked about his hospital experience. He placed the glass back on the table, his hand lowering to tap the large scar over the right side of his chest. "I got shot. Collapsed lung, lost a lot of blood. Took a good number of surgeries before I was where I needed to be. A good portion of it, I was unconscious, but the recovery was rough when I did come to."
Michelle: Michelle bit her lip as he spoke, feeling the weight of his words. She played with her glass, the perspiration dripping onto the table. "Why?" Not how it happened, she could imagine a gun being pointed at him, the person pulling the trigger, but why– why would anyone do that. "Look at you, tough bastard," she smiled softly at him, "gun wounds, surgeries, bar fights, glass, not a lot keeps you down, does it?"
Jason: "A lot of people didn't like me in New York." Jason replied quietly. He reached for his glass again, drinking it down thirstily before placing the now empty glass on the side table. He laughed at her next words, shrugging lightly before leaning back in the chair, mindful of his shoulder as he did so. "That's my own fault really. Someone takes a swing at me or starts causing problems, my first reaction is to fight. I grew up not fighting back for so long, it's like the first thing I go to now. There comes a point where you stop letting people walk all over you, but then again, you start looking like some kind of patched experiment as you go."
Michelle: "Did..." she shook her head, "so it happened in New York? Is that why you came to LA?" She'd have wanted to get away too if it was her. Though, she wasn't sure she'd have made it through that were it her. Michelle sipped her water before setting it down beside his. She looked at him and shook her head. "No one deserves to get shot. No one has a right to decide that– who lives and who dies." Pursing her lips, she looked at her hands, clenching them into a fist briefly before relaxing them. It made her angry and she didn't know why. But it wasn't right. "I get that, though." She sighed, looking back at him, shrugging. "You found your voice, in fighting, and who could ask you to give that up?" While she didn't condone fighting in the way that he most certainly had, she understood it. It took her so long to find her own voice, to speak her mind, and it was hard to let it go sometimes. She imagined fighting was the same. "Second nature," she said aloud, "and you don't." Michelle shook her head, letting her gaze fall briefly to his chest, to the scars scattering there. She wasn't staring at them so much as taking them in, eyes scanning the knots and lines and raised skin and couldn't help but give him a timid smile. There was no judgement in her, a right she'd given up a long time ago when realizing that people were only ever that– people, flesh and blood. "You're not a patched experiment. At all. You're a story, Jace, all of it is part of who you are."
Jason: He bit his lip, sitting quietly a moment before answering. "It was part of the reason, yeah. Served as a wake up call about how I was living my life, and the things I needed to change..." His voice trailed though, because she was right. It was wrong for people to decide who lived and died, yet he had been one of those people. He'd been the one with gun and the knife, hurting others and taking pleasure in it because he thought he was doing something right. He couldn't agree with her, because he felt that would place him in a position of hypocrisy even if it was no longer the way he lived or believed. Still, it was painful, and it haunted him even now. He'd lived on fear and hate, and without realizing it had become the one person he hated more than anyone else. His father. He'd preyed on people, sometimes innocent people, and that was something he would never be able to escape or let go. It was a part of him...it always would be. Shutting his eyes, Jason lowered his head, a deep breath streaming through his mouth and releasing out his nose. "I wasn't entirely a victim from this Mitch." He said softly. "So don't pity me for it, or feel bad it happened. I deserved it."
Michelle: She saw something on his face that she couldn't determine what it was. It was a ghost that clung to him, though, that much was certain. "I'm not." She sat up straighter, "but I'm not going to judge you for it either. Whatever you did...as bad or as good as it was or wasn't...everyone has scars, Jace. I'm just saying you shouldn't be ashamed of yours." She chewed the inside of her cheek, looking down now. "Sorry if that's overstepping." The last thing she wanted was to do that but she truly believed that whoever he was before..well, it's part of who he was then, sitting before her. Just because her scars weren't engraved onto her arms or back or chest didn't mean she didn't carry them either. Perfect porcelain dolls were overrated, she thought, and they were too easily broken.
Jason: As she looked down, Jason looked up, looking her over curiously as he took in her words. "No." He whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips. "You're not overstepping. We've all been through shit, I guess it's just facing it and admitting it that gets us past it." Maybe that's why he never got past it. He liked to hold it in, brood over it in those moments where he had nothing to keep him occupied, and it was eating him alive. "But you want to know why I really came here? Why I ran from New York to try to start from scratch here?" He asked her, swallowing before waiting for her answer. "It was because I was scared for my life. Because I spent twelve years in a gang doing whatever they wanted me to. Stealing, sex, beating the shit out of someone...whatever they asked from me I did it. And when I took a bullet, they left me there because they didn't want to get questioned by the cops." He paused, jaw clenching before he gave a humorless laugh. "They were the only family I had. And they were all fucking low lifes that didn't give a shit about anyone but themselves. That's what I was Mitch. That's what I escaped."
Michelle: She wasn't sure what he'd say, and was actually surprise he'd volunteered anything at all. Though, at the same time, she wasn't. She trusted him and knew that, for whatever reason he trusted her too. "And we're all going to go through shit. The beauty of living, right?" She laughed slightly before listening to his words, letting them sink in. She nodded, the only indication she'd heard his question. It was enough for him, and he told her. Gang. Fighting. Stealing. That's not what got her, though. It was the fact that people had left him. To die. The fact that this bizarrely wonderful person sitting before her could have never been in her life. And it was a strangely empty thought. There was no honor amongst thieves, sure, but still. Again, she felt anger towards the people who had done this. Not because he wasn't guilty of crimes too– he'd admitted he was, but because family was sacred, blood or otherwise. "Well," Michelle paused, trying to gather her thoughts before lightly reaching out and touching his jaw, lifting his face to look her in the eye as she spoke in a clear, convicted tone, sincerity written on her face. "I give a shit about you, yeah?" She leaned back in her seat too, retracting her hand and shaking her head. "I know it doesn't mean much, really, but I'm glad you did. What happened brought you here for a reason, Jace, whatever that may be." She looked away again, wringing one of her wrists with her other hand. "Just...just don't think you're alone, okay? Because you're not."
Jason: Although there was a fear that Michelle's perception of him would change, Jason trusted her enough to listen and maybe try to understand. That person he used to be was the opposite of who he was trying to be now, and he wanted to believe that was worth something. Mitch's reaction gave him hope, that maybe there was a shot in hell he could get that clinging shadow of his past to have less of an influence over him. Maybe she was right, maybe events had landed him here for reason other than just escape. Maybe he had an actual future here. But it was her statement of him not being alone that cast a light feeling over him, as if some of his dismay had been wiped out in just those few words. "Thank you Michelle. Really." Jason whispered.
Michelle: She nodded, giving him a smile. "Always, alright?" Michelle wouldn't judge him for his past and didn't care if anyone else did. He was who he was right then, in that moment, and that's what mattered. People made mistakes, they hurt each other, they got hurt, they healed and broke and loved and fought and they lived. Michelle pushed some hair aside and wrinkled her nose slightly, speaking genuinely. "I'm glad I met you, Jace." He was different and completely familiar all at once and Michelle knew it was rare to find that in a person.
Jason: Her words only made his smile grow, warmth spreading across his chest in such an unfamiliar way as he kept his eyes glued to hers. He trusted her in a way he'd never trusted anyone before. She'd seen him in a dark moment, and heard about an even darker past, yet she was still there, supporting and accepting him as if he held few to no flaws. There was a rush of emotion Jason had never quite experienced, and he swallowed thickly, unsure how to accept or decipher it in his brain. "I'm glad I met you too Mitch." He answered. "Though I think I should say I'm more lucky to have met you than anything."
Disney Days || Headcanon || Jason & Michelle || July 28th
Disney had been a random suggestion, something Michelle wasn’t really expecting Jason to say yes to. He had, though, and it ended up being one of the best summer days; easy and uncomplicated. They’d met at the park for the first time, a less-than-typical first meeting, probably, but a good one, nonetheless. It was different, she’d thought, being around someone who was so completely who they were and entirely unapologetic about it (this included cursing around the many, many children and blatantly ignoring their parents’ glares.) Michelle was observant, whatever people thought, and knew that there was some skepticism in him when he’d agreed to go. Still, when they got there, and after going on the first ride, she’d somehow managed to get him to actually enjoy himself, whether or not he wanted to admit it.
Jason was as engaging a person as she’d met before and it helped that he listened. She would go on about this or that and he let her. It was refreshing and relieving all at once, that she wasn’t on tip-toeing around someone, monitoring what she was saying, trying to make sure it was the right thing. She hadn’t used to be like that, but messy mistakes made her more hesitant than she’d been. But being in Disneyland made her feel like a kid again, uninhibited, laughing at stupid jokes and teasing him. Especially with the hat. The mouse-ears hat had been her goal from the moment she’d set her eyes on them. He’d refused at first (and basically every time she asked thereafter) but she persisted the entire time, wearing hers with pride, of course. They’d been in line for Splash Mountain when he finally caved after hours of her pestering and teasing.
She’d managed to take quite a few pictures before he took it off, completely adamant that he didn’t enjoy it at all. But she saw the smile and, really, it was evident that he didn’t mind as much as his protest might have indicated. They got on better than she’d have expected, too, and she was comfortable almost immediately. Mitch knew she didn’t know him really, at all, but there were some things you didn’t have to know about a person to appreciate them in the moment, just how they acted or were. So it did take her a bit by surprise when, after the water ride, he wrung out his shirt and she saw them.
Michelle didn’t know what she’d expected, but the scars weren’t it. She had seen things before but his back...all of it was covered with painful reminders of wounds and injuries. That wasn’t what bothered her, though; almost immediately as he’d taken off his shirt, they both became aware of the stares. Somehow, in the span of mere moments, she’d gone from laughing her ass off to being completely pissed off. She’d learned a long time ago that people loved a spectacle–they loved to see things as long as it didn’t affect them. They loved to ignore the fact that people were people, regardless of how they acted towards them. And that nobody deserved to be scrutinize the way they were scrutinizing Jason.
This was no different. But it irritated her. “It’s rude to stare.” She might as well have spat the words at the girl who wouldn’t take her eyes of Jason’s back, gawking as if the scars were on display for her. The girl blanched, mortified to have been caught staring. Michelle couldn’t have cared less at her embarrassment. She ignored other peoples’ stares too before she grabbing Jason’s hand. “Come on.” She took a breath as she led them down the exit ramp, trying to calm down. Anger wasn’t an entirely foreign concept to her, but it was one she rarely indulged in, especially with others.
Mitch looked over her shoulder at him, “People are idiots.” It was all she said on the matter before pulling out the map again and looking over the next place they’d go. “Bumper cars sound good to you?” She wasn’t about to let it ruin the rest of their day. As she focused on the map, Michelle knew she wouldn’t say anything else about the scars either– the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. It was his story to tell if he wanted and, if not, well, he wasn’t any different than before.
Resolving to enjoy the rest of their afternoon, Michelle sighed before grinning at him. Nudging his shoulder, she issued an unofficial challenge, “I bet I’m a better driver than you.” And with that, they went to the bumper cars, waiting in line as she went on about the damn mouse hat. It was like nothing had happened, the teasing lilt in her voice once again. “The ears really flatter you, you know.”
I have faith in you. If you can’t find cheeseballs, bring me fruit roll ups. Preferably strawberry. Oooh, grab me a bag of baked Lays while you’re at it.
…True…that’s a form of torture I don’t want to experience.
