[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/SfSZqlE.jpeg[/img] [sup][img]https://i.imgur.com/9qIY4OK.jpeg[/img] [color=962929][b]#962929[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [color=808080][b]hell's angel[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/iSBHkTI][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c].....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [color=808080][b]descendant tower[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]...........................[/color] [color=feffb5][b]#feffb5[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [color=808080][b]redback[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/wAh5lG7][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c].....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [color=808080][b]descendant tower[/b][/color] [img]https://i.imgur.com/9qIY4OK.jpeg[/img][/sup][/center] [indent][indent][indent][indent][justify][color=808080]Myla let her head rest against Theo’s shoulder as he swung them across New York. She had grown so familiar with the sensation of flying through the air and his arm supporting her that she could have fallen asleep if she wanted to. [i]God did she want to.[/i] With each passing minute it became harder to keep her eyes open. The exhaustion and blood loss weighed down her eyelids like lead. There was a brief moment where she nearly passed out but their landing jarred her awake. Her eyes blinked lazily as she tried to lift her head but struggled to find the strength. Gwen was exactly where Theo had left her, though she was sitting on his bed now. Her phone was in her hands, and she was obsessively refreshing the news channel app, as if hoping to get an answer on where he had gone running off to that way. They startled her, the phone clattering to the ground. [color=d6d6d6]"Theodore, what the [i]hell?[/i]"[/color] His mom stood up, uncaring of the phone but stepping toward them. There was concern and a touch of horror in her tone at the sight of Myla’s state. [color=d6d6d6]"You’re covered in blood, what happened?"[/color] [color=962929]"I’m sorry,"[/color] Myla interjected quietly as she felt the trickle of blood run along her skin and drip to the floor. [color=feffb5]"It’s not mine,"[/color] he said shortly, moving to stride out of the room and then pausing. Where was the best place for first aid? The bathroom? [color=feffb5]"Can you help her?"[/color] [color=d6d6d6]"Of course,"[/color] there was not an iota of hesitation in the woman’s voice, and she led Theo through the house, snagging a pillow from the couch before gesturing sharply at the empty dining room table. Gwen laid down the pillow at one end of the table, Theo set Myla down on the hard surface and then moved to retrieve the first aid kit. [color=d6d6d6]"This is Hell’s Angel?"[/color] Theo froze for a second, hovering over Myla. His head turned toward the older woman slowly, watching her set down the large kit and unlock the clips so she could pop it open. [color=feffb5]"Mom, don’t—"[/color] there was a hint of pleading in his tone, but Gwen waved him off with an air of amusement. [color=d6d6d6]"Teddy, get out. Go get her a change of clothes from my room. I’m going to have to get her out of these clothes, and you’re not going to see this girl naked for the first time in front of me."[/color] Theo sputtered, his face splotchy with color, but with a single firm look from his mom he pressed a featherlight kiss to Myla’s forehead before hurrying out of the kitchen. [color=d6d6d6]"Okay, sweetheart,"[/color] Gwen’s voice was softer and more soothing than it had been when she was speaking to Theo. She rubbed a gentle hand against Myla’s arm, hands steady and reassuring. [color=d6d6d6]"Tell me where everything is, start from what’s the worst to the least, I’ll do my best. I promise."[/color] Myla’s heart fluttered when his mom said her alias. [i]Did Theo tell his mom about her?[/i] She told Foggy about him so… It wasn’t that far-fetched, but the thought still made her blush slightly. Her hand reflexively reached for Theo as he left but his mom was right. She didn’t want that to be the first time he saw her naked either, not in the company of his mother… not when she looked like she was on death’s door step. She swallowed and took a breath as the chill of the dining room table seeped through her exposed skin. [color=962929]"I am,"[/color] she spoke up, answering the question that Theo couldn’t. [color=962929]"I am Hell’s Angel,"[/color] she confessed, turning her head slightly to face the woman. It wasn’t how she envisioned meeting Theo’s mom, but even bleeding out on his kitchen table, there was a small jealous part of Myla that was thankful for one less experience Ronnie had over her. [color=962929]"My name’s Myla Murdock,"[/color] she introduced herself with a weak smile. There wasn’t even a moment where she hesitated about revealing herself to Theo’s mom. It felt like the right thing to do and another way to anchor herself in his life. With a pained sigh, Myla laid back on the table trying to focus on the pain and recall her injuries. [color=962929]"I was stabbed in my right thigh."[/color] Her right hand fell to her leg where the tear in her skirt went the full length of the leather up to her waist band. Theo had bandaged it with his shirt but the cloth was already wet and streaks of blood slipped from beneath it. [color=962929]"I was cut by glass in my side."[/color] Her hand shifted to the left side of her ribs. It wasn’t until that moment in the quiet peace of the Parker home that Myla realized Theo’s sweater didn’t block her touch. A lump grew in her throat as her fingers searched along her torso feeling the unraveled yarn and tattered knitting. Her hand trembled and eyes welled before a single silent tear rolled down her cheek. Myla cleared her throat, trying to hold it together. She couldn’t break down, not yet, not in front of his mom. She took a shaky breath then tapped her left bicep. [color=962929]"Grazed by a bullet."[/color] She laid in silence for a minute as she tried to focus on any other pain. [color=962929]"I… I don’t think anything else can be done for the rest of my injuries."[/color] She didn’t think her nose or ribs were broken, but even if they were there was nothing that could be done. Her ears bled from the high pitched noise and she was strangled, but similarly there wasn’t anything a first aid kit could do for that. [color=d6d6d6]"Oh honey,"[/color] Gwen brushed a hand over Myla’s hair, tucking a few strands back with all the gentle practice only a mother could exhibit. She’d caught how the girl’s hand had trembled, how she’d paused as fingers brushed over an all too familiar sweater. Gwen swallowed around the lump in her throat, and started to pull supplies from the first aid-kit. [color=d6d6d6]"It’s okay, we have a closet full of them. Theo and I would both trade all of those sweaters in a heartbeat, if it meant you were okay."[/color] Her voice was earnest, fingers steady as she pulled out a small syringe and a tiny bottle of morphine. [color=d6d6d6]"Can I give you some medication for the pain? It would make me feel a lot better about sewing you up, I won’t give you enough to make you sleep, just to take the edge off."[/color] There were a couple seconds where Myla was surprised at how tender and compassionate Theo’s mom was, but then she caught herself. He had to have gotten it from somewhere. It only made sense. Her gentle touch made the tears threaten to pour out of her at full force but she forced herself to push it back. She knew once that flood gate opened she wouldn’t be able to put it back up until the sobs shook her to the core and left her struggling to breathe. It wasn’t the time to be weak, not when she needed to remain calm for Mrs. Parker to work. It was difficult for her to speak calmly, the shakiness of being on the edge of tears was evident in her dry, scratchy voice. [color=962929]"Thank you,"[/color] was all she said but she meant it… for everything. The rest of the supplies were laid out in a neat line, and she caught Theo’s arm slipping in through the door to lay a set of her clothes on the counter for them. He didn’t peak in, likely already thinking Myla had been stripped of her clothes. She felt a wave of pride at how respectful her son was, at how much he clearly cared for the girl bleeding all over her kitchen table. Once she’d given her some medicine, Gwen set to carefully cutting away what remained of Myla ruined clothes. The morphine would feel like cool water on a burn, not fully soothing the pain but helping nonetheless. Gwen stepped away to fill a bowl with warm water so she could try her best to clean away the fresh and dried blood alike, gentle with every swipe of the cloth she used, before she started to disinfect everything. [color=d6d6d6]"You don’t have to be strong for my sake, sweetheart."[/color] She spoke up after a few moments of watching Myla struggle to control what was clearly tears. She paused for a moment, giving the younger woman a few moments to prepare for what would come next. [color=d6d6d6]"There isn’t any shame in crying, not in this house. You’re safe here, in more ways than one."[/color] [color=962929]"I…"[/color] The words got caught in her throat. Even as Myla fought to remain strong the occasional tears would trickle along her temple and slip into her hair. [color=962929]"If I let go I might start shaking and mess you up,"[/color] she confessed barely above a whisper. She appreciated the comfort Theo’s mom gave her more than she could express. It was always jarring being around such patient and compassionate people when she was used to locking everything away. But the comfort helped keep her calm when she was tip toeing on the edge of a meltdown. Gwen swept down, pressing the softest of kisses to Myla’s forehead. It was full of maternal affection, a desperate attempt to sooth a distraught child within her home, even if the child in question was an adult. She set to work on the stitches only moments later, offering gentle words of reassurance as she worked, trying not to freeze up each time a sound of pain dragged itself from Myla. [color=d6d6d6]"Talk to me about something,"[/color] Gwen offered after a few moments of what felt like torture for both of them, the urge to cry was rather prevalent for the older woman as well, she couldn’t stand seeing anyone in pain, especially not someone her son cared for so deeply. [color=d6d6d6]"Anything to distract yourself."[/color] Myla remained rigid as she felt the needle pierce her skin with every stitch. Her fists were clenched and shaking. She blinked back the tears trying to focus on Mrs. Parker’s words. [i]Talk about something.[/i] Her eyes closed as she tried to find anything to fill the silence. [color=962929]"Did Theo ever tell you how we met… Properly?"[/color] She winced and sucked in a sharp breath. Her jaw trembled as she slowly exhaled. [color=962929]"There was a convenience store robbery in Harlem. We both arrived to stop them and ended up fighting each other for ten minutes before realizing we were on the same side."[/color] The words came out rushed without the normal levity of telling a story, especially a funny one. She paused for a second, clenching her teeth through another prick. [color=962929]"The robbers got away and we had to chase them halfway through Central Park… That was the night we also shared our first pizza."[/color] Through the pain and discomfort a faint smile tugged at her lips as she relived the memory. [color=962929]"Pineapple and green olives… It was horrible."[/color] [color=d6d6d6]"Pineapple and green olives?"[/color] Gwen’s laugh was soft and sweet, and she finished up the stitches on Myla’s thigh without incident. It had been the deepest, and worst of her wounds. She moved on to her side, steadily working her way up, flushing any remaining glass from the injury with clean warm water, her side only needed four stitches, so it was a little faster of a process than her thigh had been. [color=d6d6d6]"You probably kicked his ass."[/color] There was a touch of fondness in her tone, not just for Theo but for Myla as well. A tired laugh slipped out followed by a brief wince. [color=962929]"He pulls his punches,"[/color] Myla outed him with a faint smile. [color=962929]"He's too good of a man to make people suffer unnecessarily."[/color] The comment stole some of the light from her expression as her mind drifted back to the dead bodies around her Uncle’s apartment, the way the anger raged in him as he stomped Roger’s face to a paste. The tears stung her eyes. The regret and guilt of pushing him to that point churned in her stomach. [color=962929]"I’m going to be sick."[/color] Her voice trembled as she pushed off the table and tried to sit up. Gwen moved quickly, snagging an empty pot from the stove and holding it in front of Myla just in time for the girl to lose the contents of her stomach within it. She was a mom through and through, so the sight and smell didn’t even make Gwen flinch. She held back Myla’s hair, whispered soft words to her until she’d stopped, and then discarded the pot in a careless way, throwing the entire thing directly into the trash before she got a warm and damp washcloth for Myla to wipe her face with. She spit once in the pot to try and clear the acidic taste from her mouth before it was tossed into the garbage. [color=962929]"Sorry,"[/color] she whispered from behind the washcloth. [i]God she felt fucking pathetic.[/i] Gwen hesitated at her arm, frowning down at the injury. The morphine may have been too strong on her, which could have caused the nausea, but she had a feeling it had nothing to do with that or the pain. She sighed, focusing on the last injury, this one wasn’t bleeding anymore, it had clotted over and didn’t look in danger of ripping open as long as Myla didn’t strain herself in the next few days. [color=d6d6d6]"You’ll have scars,"[/color] her voice was more somber now, Gwen wished desperately she could spare Myla this pain, but she’d made the same choice her husband and son had made. There was no changing the mind of a hero, she knew that much. [color=d6d6d6]"I think we can leave this one be, but you have to promise me to relax for at least three days. No more fights to the death, if you can manage it."[/color] Gwen ran another hand through Myla’s hair, absentminded affection allowing her to work through the knots that had formed until the strands lay smoothly over her shoulders. [color=962929]"Add it to the collection."[/color] Myla’s voice had the faintest bit of levity at the comment. She was no stranger to scars. There were already a dozen scattered about her body. Mrs. Parker had probably already noticed, but she appreciated her concern for the markings regardless. The one positive to being blind was that she was pretty unbothered when it came to her physical appearance. Body dysmorphia didn’t quite work as easily when she didn’t have the opportunity to hate her reflection. Although there were plenty of other things for her to dislike, but that was a problem for a therapist… or God. [color=962929]"I… can’t promise,"[/color] she confessed barely above a whisper. Myla didn’t know what it was about Mrs. Parker but she found it hard to lie to her… Kind of like Theo. [color=962929]"But I’ll try."[/color] Her gentle, motherly affection stirred something in Myla that was foreign and missing from her life since she was a child. Was that what it was like having a mom? Or a mom who was… [i]present?[/i] She envied Theo. While she had love for her own mother, the woman she knew was vacant, insanity riddled, and had been locked in a psych ward her entire life. She wondered what her life would have been like if she had a mom like the woman to look after her and care for her… Probably a lot different. [color=962929]"I’m sure your son will probably try handcuffing me to the bed so I don’t pop a stitch—"[/color] Her eyes went wide when she realized what she said. Panic immediately set in. [color=962929]"—I didn’t mean—Just so I get rest."[/color] Myla’s cheeks turned bright red as she quickly hid her face behind her hands. Gwen laughed, soft and sweet, and she tucked back Myla’s hair in case she did get sick. [color=d6d6d6]"If we start talking about your sex life, you’ll have to come to dinner at least once a week."[/color] Myla’s face somehow managed to get redder, coughing slightly at the nonchalant way Theo’s mom mentioned her sex life. [color=962929]"There’s… There’s no…"[/color] her voice trailed off as she tried to clarify. [color=962929]"We didn’t even know who each other was until today."[/color] That wasn’t entirely true. They had known each other for a year. They knew each other’s laughs, what they sounded like in pain, their favorite pizza toppings… Their souls. They just didn’t know anything personal… Like names. But the absence of secrets seemed to change a lot, enough so that Mrs. Parker even seemed to notice. Gwen moved to fetch the clothes that had been left out for Myla, an oversized t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts that belonged to Theo. It was the most comfortable items they could offer right now. She helped Myla get dressed, each movement gentle and slow, and once they were gone she got some nausea medication from one of the kitchen drawers and a glass of water. She hesitated for a moment, debating with herself, and the hesitation breached her tone when she spoke next. [color=d6d6d6]"There was one other time when he didn’t pull his punches."[/color] Gwen busied herself with packing away supplies and discarding the things that they no longer needed. She’d need to wipe down the table with some bleach once the pair of them left, but she’d wait until Myla wasn’t there to feel guilty over it. [color=d6d6d6]"He was sixteen, we were walking back from a science fair and some man tried to mug us. He had a gun pressed against my chest… I’ve never seen Theo like that before."[/color] Gwen paused, reaching out to steady Myla when she stood up fully. She pulled the other woman into a tentative hug, mindful of where she held her. Her voice was very soft, trying to be low enough that Theo wouldn’t be able to hear her from the next room over. [color=d6d6d6]"He’s just like his father, there are no limits to cross when it comes to protecting the people you love. Don’t feel guilty, he decides where his lines are drawn, not anyone else."[/color] She pulled back as the knock echoed through the house, body tensing ever so slightly. Outside the Parker home a taxi rolled to a stop. Foggy tossed the driver way more money than was necessary, having [i]definitely[/i] made the guy break at least fifteen traffic laws to shave ten minutes off their drive. He grunted as he picked up Myla’s heavy bag and hurried to the front door. His knock was rushed and a little frantic, but having seen his niece swing out a window on the edge of death… He needed to know she was ok. That was all that mattered. Theo moved to open the door, posture relaxed unlike his mother in the other room. He could hear that it was Foggy, the taxi pulling away from the curb and he welcomed the older man in with a tight smile and nod, taking the bag from him before shutting the door behind him. [color=feffb5]"I’m glad you got here safely,"[/color] Theo led Foggy further into the modest house, toward the living room that was just off the kitchen door. [color=feffb5]"She’s doing okay, they’re just talking right now."[/color] His cheeks were tinged pink, the mention of handcuffs and a bed frame making his imagination run wild before the door had been knocked on. Foggy followed Theo into the house paying little attention to his surroundings, more interested in his words than where he was. Hearing Myla was ok he let out a deep sigh like he had been holding his breath the entire drive over. Then, without a word, Foggy pulled Theo into a tight hug. He didn’t care if it was awkward or uncalled for. [color=d6d6d6]"Thank you."[/color] His voice was firm but tinged with unspeakable gratitude… and guilt. [color=d6d6d6]"Her dad trusted me to look after her and… I… She’s the only family I have left."[/color] Theodore was surprised, especially because he didn't feel like he’d done enough. He hadn’t been there to protect her from the multitude of injuries his mom was trying to treat in the other room, he’d only been able to help at the end. The guilt resurfaced with the vengeance, but he hugged Foggy back, trying to stop his hands from shaking. He’d taken time before the man had arrived to try and wash the dried blood from his arm and face, trying to hide the evidence of the lengths he’d go for Myla despite everyone already knowing. [color=feffb5]"I’ll protect her with my life."[/color] He meant it, pulling back so he could look into the other man's eyes. He wanted Foggy to see how serious he was about this, his father had spent his whole life protecting New York and Theo had promised to do the same thing, but since he’d grown closer to Myla his goals had shifted ever so slightly. He wasn’t sure if he’d have to choose between the city or her someday, but he already knew which he would pick. Foggy’s face shifted to something a little more serious and maybe even concerned. He didn’t know much about Theo. Myla, like her father, was very secretive about her life as Hell’s Angel. She tried to keep her two lives separate to spare him but she did tell him about Redback to hopefully ease his concerns, moderately. He noticed how, as time went on, she was home less and even with the skyrocketing crime rates she always came home a little happier. He wasn’t stupid. [color=d6d6d6]"How about you [i]both[/i] stay alive?"[/color] He gave Theo’s shoulder a reassuring pat with a faint smile. [color=feffb5]"I’ll try my best, sir."[/color] He smiled at the older man, the sort of bright expression he would have shot toward his father if he were still there. In all reality, Theo already knew what would happen if it came down to him or Myla surviving. Maybe he was selfish and dramatic for thinking it, but he couldn’t survive in a world where she didn’t exist. It would be him in every scenario where he had the chance to save her, no matter what. [color=feffb5]"Can I get you anything to uh…drink? Once they’re done, of course."[/color] Foggy chuckled, the exhaustion of his worrying catching up to him. He helped himself to a seat hoping his current hosts would mind. [color=d6d6d6]"Anything with alcohol?"[/color] he asked with a sheepish grin. He [i]definitely[/i] needed a drink. They all probably did. [color=feffb5]"Yes, sir."[/color] Theo grinned at him, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. Alcohol did have a good ring to it right now, actually. He was still too tense, and he knew it would all catch up with him later. [color=feffb5]"Once they’re done…"[/color] Back in the kitchen, still within Mrs. Parker’s embrace, Myla turned her head toward the woman. [color=962929]"It’s my Uncle,"[/color] she reassured her quietly. Myla was still digesting her words. Theo’s mom somehow seemed to know exactly what she was thinking without saying anything. Must be a mother’s sixth sense. She wanted to argue and say he was too good of a person to have murder on his conscience, but she said nothing. Myla wasn’t scared of him. She didn’t think of him differently. She was only weighed down by the guilt of what he did to keep her alive. It was stupid for her to grieve for that piece of him her life stole, but he was always the good cop to her bad cop, the sweet to her sour. She didn’t want to steal that light from him. Thinking of how Theo always tried to shoulder the burdens for those around him, her mind drifted back to the academy… To Ronnie. Myla slowly pulled away just enough to rest her hands on the woman’s bent elbows. [color=962929]"You should know something… Something that I don’t think Theo will tell you."[/color] Her voice was quiet, hoping that her Uncle distracted him enough so he didn’t overhear. She waited until she heard Foggy speak again trying to layer her words beneath his. [color=962929]"... Ronnie isn’t dead."[/color] Gwen froze, her brain fighting to process what was said, pulling back further with her hands resting on Myla’s shoulders. There was a whirlwind of emotions that passed through her, grief, relief, confusion, and finally, anger. [color=d6d6d6]"I never met her, only Theo and his dad."[/color] her voice was very soft, and she was certain if Myla’s uncle was out in the living room Theo would be too distracted to listen in. [color=d6d6d6]"He thought she was dead, or worse. He was devastated, but he…moved on."[/color] She looked Myla up and down, trying to gauge the other woman's mood outside of her near death experience and multitude of injuries. [color=d6d6d6]"I can imagine how he feels, but are [i]you[/i] okay?"[/color] Myla was a little stunned that after such a revelation Mrs. Parker was more concerned about how she felt. Her brows furrowed. [color=962929]"I…"[/color] She shrugged her shoulders, wincing at how it tugged the stitches in her side. [color=962929]"I didn’t really know about her until today."[/color] Her hand flattened the large t-shirt along her abdomen as she thought back to her brief encounter with Ronnie. [color=962929]"She’s kind of a bitch,"[/color] she confessed with a weak laugh. Gwen laughed, loud and sharp in a way that was reminiscent of how Theo’s startled laughs also sounded. She pulled Myla into another hug, still just as gentle as she’d been before but with more feeling than she’d expressed before. [color=d6d6d6]"Knowing him, he was scared it would be a burden on you."[/color] She whispered, pulling back after a moment to run her fingers through Myla’s hair once more and straighten out the t-shirt she wore. [color=d6d6d6]"I have a feeling the two of you do that a lot for each other."[/color] [color=962929]"Yeah, he’s like that,"[/color] she agreed with a soft sigh, finding comfort in the woman’s gentle preening. It wasn’t easy for Myla having Ronnie miraculously wander back into Theo’s life at the worst possible time. It stirred up her own insecurities and jealousies, but in the end those were her problems to get over. And she would, with some time. [color=962929]"Guilty."[/color] A fraction of her usual light smile teased against her lips. After a moment of comfortable silence, Myla’s hand subconsciously rose to lightly brush against the side of her ribs, ghosting over the fabric of the shirt where it peaked over her stitches. [color=962929]"Thank you, Mrs. Parker."[/color] [color=d6d6d6]"Call me Gwen, for now honey."[/color] She smiled, because if the two of them didn’t get themselves killed there would undoubtedly be a day where Myla referred to her as [i]mom.[/i] Now was not the time for that though, maybe once they’d found Peter and everything had settled down. [color=d6d6d6]"Are you ready to go out there and see them? If you’re tired, you can rest upstairs for now."[/color] The offer for rest was more enticing than it had ever been in her life. The thought of slipping under heavy warm blankets and folding herself into Theo’s embrace left her with a pit of longing in her stomach. [color=962929]"I… We can’t stay. It’s too dangerous for you… For Theo."[/color] She wanted nothing more than to stay and feel like part of a proper family, if for only one night. But it was safer for Foggy and Gwen if they left. [color=962929]"But we’ll be with others like us. More powerful than us."[/color] She did her best to reassure her, but Myla couldn’t tell her where they were going. The less they knew the better. [color=d6d6d6]"As long as you call,"[/color] Gwen said, voice unsteady and giving away how nervous the idea of having them both so far away made her. [color=d6d6d6]"And once we’re certain it’s safer, you’ll both come back for dinner."[/color] She led Myla out of the kitchen, into the living room, hesitating for a moment when she saw Foggy with Theo. Theo lit up when he saw Myla, moving forward at once to take his spot beside her, his mom moving closer to Foggy to accommodate that. His arm curled around her shoulder carefully, pulling Myla gently into his side so she could lean on him instead of standing fully on her own. [color=feffb5]"Your shirt has the Grinch on it."[/color] He informed her happily, grinning at his choice, knowing even if she couldn’t see it, it would lighten her mood ever so slightly. [color=feffb5]"He’s wearing a fedora."[/color] Myla was swept up in the whirlwind of Theo’s attention as he was immediately across the room and at her side. She didn’t pull away from his support, even with the drugs Gwen had given her it was still uncomfortable to put much weight on her right leg. As he described the shirt she wore, he fingers ran along the hard screen printed ink with a weak chuckle. [color=962929]"You shop on Etsy too much,"[/color] she teased him through the scratchiness of her throat. They needed to go. They needed to tell everyone at the academy about what happened but Myla’s feet felt like they were glued to the ground. She’d rather stay in that home with the people she loved than go back out there. The thought of getting attacked again or taken, or Theo being taken felt more real now that she had experienced it first hand. She hadn’t even given herself the proper time to process it all. But that was just it… There wasn’t time. Maybe at the tower or maybe she’d keep repressing and pushing it back until she couldn’t fight it anymore. She had a terrible habit when it came to the latter. Desperate to cling to the calm of normal life for a few minutes longer, Myla cleared her throat and motioned to her uncle. [color=962929]"Gwen, this is my Uncle Foggy."[/color] Foggy got to his feet and held out his right hand toward Gwen. [color=d6d6d6]"Franklin Nelson. I…"[/color] He struggled to find a way to put into words his gratitude but everything seemed to fall short. [color=d6d6d6]"I don’t think I could thank you both enough for what you did for Myla. If you ever need anything, at all, don’t hesitate to ask. Even if it’s getting drunk and crying over those who are missing."[/color] He laughed awkwardly but with a familiarity that he was guilty of doing that a lot recently. [color=d6d6d6]"With Theo and Myla leaving,"[/color] Gwen’s voice betrayed her feelings, and Theo winced at how it sounded like she was going to cry. [color=d6d6d6]"That would be nice, Gwen Parker. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Franklin. I wish it was under better circumstances, but…Myla is a darling, you’re both welcome here anytime."[/color] Theo hugged Myla a little closer, rubbing his thumb over her shoulder as a way to ground himself and not just comfort her. It would be hard leaving his mom here, he knew that, but this was a decision his dad would have made. He tried not to think about how if the roles were reversed, if it were Myla he had to leave behind, he wouldn’t be able to do it. Thinking like that didn’t help anyone, not right now. Myla gave Theo a reassuring tap to his side as she slipped from his hold. She limped over to Gwen and gave her one last hug to say thank you one last time, and maybe get another brief moment of motherly affection. [color=962929]"We’ll let you both know when we get back."[/color] She spoke loud enough for both of them to hear before slipping from one embrace to enter into another with her uncle. [color=962929]"[i]Please[/i] don’t go back to the apartment. Go to a hotel or on vacation. Just not there."[/color] Foggy cupped the back of her head and nodded in agreement. [color=d6d6d6]"I always hated that apartment anyway,"[/color] he replied, trying to mask his concern with sarcasm. Before she became a statue, reluctant to move, Myla slipped herself from the hug and limped toward the door. She was never good at goodbyes. If she didn’t rip it off like a bandaid then Theo was going to have to carry her out of there. Gwen cradled Myla close for a moment, tears filling her eyes despite how she tried to keep it in all. She let the girl slip from her arms, turning to hug Theo close instead. He looked over his moms shoulder at Foggy, face a mask despite how his chest felt tight with anxiety. [color=feffb5]"Can you watch out for my mom? She…"[/color] he glanced down at her face pressed to his shoulder, her eyes squeezed shut tightly as if she could block it all out. Theo wasn’t going to cry, now here, not now, but later…[color=feffb5]"She doesn’t have anyone else."[/color] [color=d6d6d6]"Of course,"[/color] Foggy replied without a second of hesitation. [color=d6d6d6]"You have my word."[/color] He stepped away, unfolding his mom from the safety of his arms, and scooped up both his and Myla’s bags from the floor with one hand, unflinching at the combined weight. He didn’t want to wait around and let the pain of leaving fester, it would be easier if they got a taxi and left now. A buzz made his hair stand on end, and he caught the keys before they could smack him in the back of his head. [color=d6d6d6]"Take the Pontiac,"[/color] Gwen’s voice trembled slightly, but she smiled at the wide eyed look of surprise he gave her. [color=d6d6d6]"Your dad would want you to."[/color] She turned toward Franklin as he grinned, heading to catch up to Myla. [color=d6d6d6]"I have a guest bedroom you’re welcome to, until you can find somewhere else…"[/color] The sounds of their voices muffled as he stepped outside, jiggling the keys just loud enough that Myla could hear and know they wouldn’t have to take a third taxi in one day. [color=feffb5]"We’re in luck, Angel."[/color] He led her to the garage with a gentle hand on her elbow, having to manually lift the door up before he hurried to throw their bags in the back and open Myla’s door for her. [color=feffb5]"The roof doesn’t close, we didn’t get around to fixing that before…but I have a sweater here for you."[/color] [color=962929]"You actually have a car in New York?"[/color] she asked with a weak chuckle. The raspiness in her voice was getting more strained with the talking. Myla made a mental note to check the tower’s kitchen for orange juice or honey to help soothe it when they returned. She tried to clear the soreness from her throat as she slid into the passenger seat. [color=962929]"Theo…"[/color] Her voice trailed off as the memory of the destroyed sweater slipped back into her mind and the lump in her chest came back with a vengeance. She blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears and her inevitable breakdown at bay. [i]Just a couple more hours.[/i] Rather than continuing her thought or declining the sweater, she sunk into the leather seat and fastened her seat belt. [color=962929]"Can we get pizza on the way?"[/color] [color=feffb5]"I rebuilt it with my dad, we started when I was sixteen. He said it was a good way to work off stress."[/color] He paused after sliding into the drivers side, sliding the keys into the engine and letting it roar to life before he reached over and readjusted the sweater in Myla’s lap. [color=feffb5]"Pineapple and olive pizza, coming right up."[/color][/color][/justify][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent] [center][sup][img]https://i.imgur.com/9qIY4OK.jpeg[/img] [color=808080][b]interactions[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] none [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [b]mentions[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] none [color=2e2c2c]...............[/color] [b]collabs[/b] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]....[/color] [@Sleepy Tani][/color] [img]https://i.imgur.com/9qIY4OK.jpeg[/img][/sup][/center]