WASHED OUT.

[LESLIE DEVON]

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE RUNNING ROUND LEAVING SCARS

Taking a drag from her cigarette, she blew the smoke out as she stood in front of the police station with a few of the other guys. They were all still in uniform but it was ridiculously late and they all had to work the night shift. Nothing major was going on so some of them had come outside for a cigarette and coffee break, Devon being one of them. She'd been back for a week or so now and they all were still pestering her about how much she changed, "Remember when she was four eyes?" she laughed right along with them and paid no real mind to their comments on how much of an ugly duckling she used to be. Clad in her form fitting uniform, she ran her fingers through her long, dark blonde hair which she'd let out instead of it being in its usual ponytail or loose bun, "Now what was it you got? That laser eyes shit? That's insane, Devon," another officer chided in and Devon nodded with a slight smirk.

"I had to wear these weird goggles for a week," she could remember how annoyed she was that she had to see everything basically in the dark, " But it was obviously worth it," she took a sip of her extra dark coffee and the guys nodded before she gave them a warning glance not to mess with her. She was still Leslie Devon. She was still one of the guys. It was just that now she had noticeable hips, a concave stomach, a nice tan, tits, and a booty where as before-it was all hidden under loose fitting clothing and the only person to ever see her fully naked-who got to see her before she decided it was time for a change, made it very clear she wasn't good enough even for a man whore. He'd been embarrassed by her...and in a way, it wounded her worse than anything else he could have done. He easily dismissed her...like she was nothing.

But now, almost five years later, she was back and looked completely different. She'd grown and matured, for the most part, and planned on beating him at his own game. She had been visibly giving him the cold shoulder or rolling her eyes at him. She'd give sarcastic remarks and the only time she took him seriously was when they had a call since they were partners and were forced to spend time with each other. Besides that, she typically had nothing good to say to Dylan and she was sure he had absolutely nothing good to say about her.

After a bit more talking, some of them went back to work at their desks while others had to go patrol with their partners. It eventually left Devon outside, leaning against the police cruiser that belonged to her and Dylan and looking through her phone, answering missed texts. It was then that she heard someone approaching. She knew it was Dylan. They had to go back to patrolling The Heights which was the most boring area to patrol because nothing really ever happened on the nice side of the city. It meant long dragged out silences or him trying to start a conversation about something that had nothing to do with work or her trying to start a conversation about work. She didn't want to talk to him about anything else. He was her partner-professionally. That was all. He was no longer her friend. Friends weren't embarrassed by each other.

"You're late," she said simply, not looking at him but going over to the driver's side, opening it up and getting in to start the police cruiser up. She knew he disliked it when she drove-not because she was a bad driver but in a way it almost seemed like it gave her the upper hand but she didn't care. She was just doing her job-and he should start doing his. Correctly.

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[graeson]

He didn't want to go into work today. And it was more than just his normal dislike for his job. It was dislike for his partner. He hated her. He wanted nothing to do with her. He couldn't believe that she had ended up his partner. Out of all the aspiring cops why did it have to be her? He felt like he was shaming his previous partner and at the thought of the man, Dylan closed his eyes from the pain of his memories. He had been best friends with Tate. He had loved him like a brother and he had looked up to him like a father. For Graeson, that was saying a lot. He had never had a father figure in his life to be honest. His father was a prick and worthless. His mother wasn't much better. So when he had met Tate, he had appreciated him more than everything. And his life had been stolen from him and it was all Graeson's fault. He still had the scars from the accident, both physical and mental. Taking a deep breath and one more shot of vodka, he finally felt like he was ready to go into work.

That girl was going to insist on driving anyway so why shouldn't he take advantage of it? He lived close enough to walk to the precinct so he could care less about what his blood alcohol level said. What was she going to do about it? Shaking his head, he stood up from his familiar chair at the kitchen table and put the bottle away beneath the sink. It was where his alcohol was stored in his tiny apartment. He didn't care. Angrily putting his glass into the sink he made his way to his bathroom, stumbling slightly because of how drunk he had just allowed himself to get. He had an hour and a half to sober up before he had to go in, and he was going to take advantage of that. Brushing his teeth over and over again so she wouldn't be able to smell the alcohol on his breath, he also shoveled food into his system. Of course it wasn't going to do anything but it would certainly make him feel better. After an hour, he felt much better, and he looked better too. He wasn't swaying, and he wasn't stumbling. He wasn't even slurring his speech. However, his blood shot eyes gave proof to the fact that he was not alright. And that was simply just because he had been drinking.

Graeson wasn't sleeping, and that was obvious by the black circles beneath his eyes as well as his blood shot eyes. He had lost a ton of weight since Tate's death and everyone at the station was noticing. His uniform, that once had clung tightly to his shaped muscles, was now hanging from his skeleton like torso. He was still strong, but he didn't hold the muscle mass he once did. He didn't care what other people thought. Let them talk. He was fine. And he would tell them over and over again that he was fine as well. Especially this new partner. Why did she even have to come back? He had felt horrible for what he had done to her and for what had happened to her father. He felt guilty that she had enlisted in the marines and everything but why? Why did she have to come back? He had finally gotten over all of that but now here was something else to add to his plate. He was going to have to call one of his girls tonight to see if they felt like having fun. Of course, that would be after his shift. He needed something to take his mind off of things.

Dylan finished changing and grabbed his weapon, putting it safely in its holster. Making sure he had everything, he closed his door behind him, locking it and putting his keys on his belt. It didn't take him very long to get to the station and he saw her getting to the car. Just like he thought. She was driving. It irritated him to no end that she felt she could waltz right in here and control him like she was the senior partner. He wanted to shout at her, to insult her, to do anything to her smug little face that would make her hurt again. He was furious at the nerve of her. He was also furious at the fact that she seemed to be doing just fine and he was a piece of shit basically. Clenching his fists and setting his jaw, he approached the door and heard her chastising tone. "Oh sue me and get your head out of your ass." He snapped, clearly not in a good mood. Landing in the seat next to her, he slammed the door heatedly and buckled his seat belt. He was in a harsher mood than he normally was when it involved her. Normally he could control himself and talk to her civilly. Tonight he wanted nothing to do with niceties. He was finished with that.

TAG - DEVON and DYLAN
WORDS - 878
NOTES - SORRY, IT'LL GET BETTER!
TUNES - devil in a midnight mass , billy talent.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0

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[LESLIE DEVON]

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE RUNNING ROUND LEAVING SCARS

Despite seeming nonchalant and almost aloof about being back in Sapphire Bay, Devon was everything but. She'd seen and done things while on active duty that weren't exactly things she would normally be proud of but her officers made it very clear she should be proud of everything she'd done overseas. She was fighting for her country and being a cop was just an added perk. She had the training and was overqualified, now, for the job than when she'd just graduated from the academy. The marines, in a way, toughened her up. She used to bend over backwards for people, would let them walk all over her, but she'd grown hard and almost cold and calculating. One year in boot camp and then four years, barely coming home in between, made her grow up all too quickly from the immature tomboy she used to be. She'd killed people and had actually gotten shot during her second tour and though she seemed almost like a little Barbie doll now, she was more like G.I. Jane and she didn't want that title taken away.

She'd heard about what happened to his previous partner and she knew the only reason she was paired up with him was because the chief used to see them together all the time at the academy. They thought it would be fine pairing them up now-let them catch up on the good times. But she was trying to fill in some mighty big shoes and she knew no matter how hard she tried, Dylan would still think she was nothing compared to the old man that used to be in the seat she was normally sitting in and speaking to him and consoling him. She didn't have the privilege anymore. He'd made it clear when he woke up and kicked her out and insulted her to no end, "I will the day you get back to normal," she said it simply as she pulled out of the parking lot and started toward the heights. She gave a small tap to the top of the coffee she put between the seats in the cup holder and then pulled a tiny vial of Visine from her front shirt pocket, "To wake you up....or at least make you look like you're awake," she didn't snap at him. She remained calm, speaking to him almost like she used to. Almost. Like she was always on the verge of smiling. But it was off, as most things about her now were-just like how things were off about Dylan. She felt his pain. She knew what it was like to lose someone so dear and near. Her father, despite being the alcoholic abusive man he was, still loved her and she still loved him. When he died, she had found a way of escape without turning to substance abuse-this was Dylan's escape. Alcohol. And who was she to judge? Despite not being fond of him anymore, she wouldn't want him to lose his job.

"Hey," she glanced over at him a bit, being sympathetic which was something she used to be really good at as long as she meant it...and she did. She worried about Dylan a whole lot more than she led on but she didn't want to suddenly become his best friend again. She'd rather not let history repeat itself, "Dylan...I know what it's like, okay? What you're going through...I'm still the same Devon you used to tell everything to-just minus the...what was it again? The horrible face and lack of vagina?" she didn't mean to slip in what he'd said to her but she couldn't help it. Honest as always even if it was a bit brutal, "Either way, if anyone would understand, I would. We're partners, right? Might as well act like it at least," she looked over at him as she turned a corner and continued down the street. She loved driving-it always eased her mind.

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[graeson]

Dylan had a lot on his mind and even more on his plate. He wanted to go home. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to lay in his bed and pray to God that he'd go to sleep. But who was he fooling? There was no God. There was no one for him to believe in because he didn't even believe in himself. Why would someone take the time out of their busy schedules to believe in him in all seriousness? Taking a deep breath, he exhaled softly and looked out the window of the patrol car that he was now the passenger in. He felt powerless. She was in control and he didn't know how to handle that. But the truth was, he wasn't even in control of his own life. Why would it be any different now? Let her be in control. What did he care? He tried not to, but the truth was he cared a lot. He hated not being the one who steered himself. It didn't make sense to him. What had happened to change things within himself? He had always been strong. Even when he had lost his entire family. And now that his partner was dead and his best friend was back in town, he didn't even know how to ground himself.

Shaking his head to himself, he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the windshield. His drunken mind was swimming, and even though he had come down from how drunk he was before, he was still feeling the effects of the beverages he had made for himself. Trying not to let it bother him, he heard her words as if she had smacked him across his face. She would when he acted normal. Well he hated to break it to her, but this was the new him. He wasn't going to change just because she was here or because she wanted him to. That wasn't how he worked. "I'm perfectly normal, thanks. I'm fine." He didn't know if she was going to buy it, but he didn't care. If it was a fight that she wanted then it was a fight he was going to give her. He was cranky and tired and just plain temperamental. He wanted nothing to do with manners or being polite or anything of the sort. It didn't matter to him now. What had happened between them was something that he thought it was best to forget. Apparently she didn't think so. As she offered him the coffee and the visine, Dylan refused. He wouldn't take her charity. "I'm awake for fuck's sake." He said stubbornly, which was much his way before she left. He wouldn't break. He wouldn't show weakness.

As she brought up the past though, something inside of him snapped. He didn't even know what to say to her. As she said that she was the same minus the face and the vagina, he felt sick to his stomach. "Stop the car." It wasn't a request, and his voice had raised an octave because of how much he needed her to stop the vehicle. When she finally did acquiesce, Dylan jumped out, slamming the door shut behind him. Might as well act like partners? Well that was the understatement of the century. They were best friends once. Best friends. And he had kicked her out that morning because he was afraid of what it meant. And now she was talking to him like she knew him all over again? Like she knew what he was going through? She was dead wrong. He turned for a moment to talk back at her. "You have no idea what is happening to me. No idea. Don't act like you do. I'm different than I used to be. I'm not the same." He admitted to her and promptly turned to the side alley to lose the contents of his stomach. This day just kept getting better and better.

TAG - DEVON and DYLAN
WORDS - 704
NOTES - He's so angry!
TUNES - devil in a midnight mass , billy talent.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0

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[LESLIE DEVON]

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE RUNNING ROUND LEAVING SCARS

As he barked back at her, the old her would have winced, would have actually even jumped back. She never did do well with people yelling at her but instead, she kept her face carefully blank like his words didn't phase her. Deep down, of course they did. She still cared about him despite everything...she just didn't want it to be as obvious. As he told her to pull the car over, she complied once she got the chance and didn't look at him as he got out of the car, yelled some more at her, and then threw up. She was tempted to drive off and leave him there in the middle of a random,wealthy residential neighborhood but she was pretty sure that wouldn't go over all that well at work because if he didn't report it, someone would find out and they would report it which would make it that much worse.

"I know exactly what the fuck is happening to you," she mumbled mostly to herself while he barfed whatever was left of his intestines. Without hesitating, she got out of the car and went around to where he was. She gave a small pat to his back once he was done and sighed deeply, "I know you're not the same," she took a step away from him, feeling the rising unnecessary tension and that maybe he might punch her face for trying to just make both of their lives at least a bit more bearable since they were stuck together until further notice, "Come on. I'll take you home and cover for you," which was easy. It meant doing the job of two cops but she was more the qualified to do so. She wasn't trying to undermine him or hurt his pride. He just vomited all over the curb. He obviously couldn't be a cop when he was throwing up and being...pissy. What was it most men used? He was PMSing. Yeah, his partner died but him being an asshole about it didn't solve anything. Yeah he was hurting but he had to grow the fuck up and deal with his emotions instead of acting like everything was just golden.

Probably some advice she should take for herself, "And don't start with the whole I'm fine shit. Everyone and their moms know you aren't," she opened the car door for him so he could get in but she obviously wasn't going to get in until he did. The last thing she needed was him partially stumbling while walking on his way home while in uniform. Unlike him, who obviously didn't care much about what the uniform represented, it had been drilled into her mind for five, almost six years that the uniform was more than just some clothing made from cotton in China. The uniform was what helped her deal with her own issues. Despite her initial intention being to run away from all the mounting problems, especially with her father passing away, she figured it helped her out in the end. She could now deal with it instead of running from it-though she was still having trouble trying to figure out just where to start exactly.

She wasn't in Sapphire Bay out of choice. She was still enlisted, just on the reserves since she finished her active duty. If he though she was there to make his life a living hell, well, then he had one hell of an ego. She was there because she didn't want to be in Los Angeles. She didn't want to be in San Francisco. She didn't want to be where she'd hear gun shots in the middle of the night that would leave her awake for hours as war nightmares replayed over and over in her head. She needed the quiet and since this was one of the choices and she was familiar with it, she chose it. She thought he would have left by now...Did he think she wanted to be here? No. She didn't but it was either that or having worse nightmares than now.

So yeah, she did know what he was going through with losing someone. She lost her father hadn't she? And he was so easily turning into him. She lost tons of friends in Afghanistan and in Iraq. Hell, she almost died a couple of times. And she lost him hadn't she? But then again, she didn't think she ever really had him in the first place.

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[graeson]

His stomach heaved and his throat burned as he vomited not once, but twice onto the sidewalk at his feet. He was throwing up into the alleyway, but that didn't really mask the sound of it all. And that alone grossed him out the most, which in turn caused him to throw up again. Dylan had seen a lot in his time as a cop, but if there was one thing that got him every time, it was vomit. He could see dead body after dead body, and he could handle blood and guts like it was his job. But give him some vomit to deal with and he was like a completely different person. It was like he was a kid, or even worse, a girl. But that was beside the point. The point was, he was vomiting after drinking the amount that he had consumed. And what was worse was that he was throwing up the first meal he had eaten in days. The skeleton that he was becoming was more and more obvious, and in his weakened state, he could barely keep himself up as he was double over. Dylan was sick, and he was far from ok. Something was seriously wrong with him and he needed to open up and talk to someone. He didn't even talk to Ashton anymore. He was alienating himself from everyone because it was easier. It was safer too.

He was embarrassed. He was extremely ashamed that she was seeing him like this and he'd give anything to change that. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he tried straightening, but suddenly felt a familiar hand on his back. Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against the cool brick of the building in front of him, his forearm resting on the building as well. He was allowing himself to relax, to remember what their friendship had once been before her words cut him like a knife. He had been remembering all that they had done together and all that they had confessed. But her words ripped him apart and he could no longer handle it. Straightening, he spit quickly, trying to get the awful taste out of his mouth. Good thing he carried a toothbrush and toothpaste in the car. One never knew when they were going to need it. He was furious at her words and for a moment, he was speechless. Regaining his composure, he spoke up, snapping as he had never snapped before. "How would you know if I'm the same or not? You've been gone for five years! Don't waltz back in here acting like you know me. You don't. Don't play games with me just because you think you're better than me." He admitted, his voice filled with raw emotion and pain. The truth was, she was better than him. She had always been better than him. She was kind while he was cruel. She was gentle and honest while he was angry and hurtful. He was a monster, she was perfect. It hurt him each and every single day that he had done what he had done to her. Sucking in a breath, he walked to the cop car and reached in the door pocket, pulling out his tooth brush and toothpaste when she opened the door.

"Cover for me? I'm not some charity case. I can do my job. I've been doing my job long before you got here. I don't need your help. I'm not something you need to fix so back off Devon." He said heatedly, losing his mind. He had. He had lost his mind. And this wasn't the alcohol talking. This was his heart. And she would know that because whether he liked it or not, she knew him. She knew him better than anyone else and that scared him and angered him at the same time. Here was this person, this woman, that knew him better than he knew himself. Even after five years, she knew him like she knew the back of her hand and he didn't know how to handle that. So he was going to be an asshole. That was the easiest way. Dylan would keep pushing her away so he didn't get close. He would keep pushing her away so he couldn't figure out his feelings for her. That was the safest way. It was the safest thing to do. As she said everyone knew he wasn't fine, he actually held mild surprise on his face. Everyone knew? He thought he was putting on a good show. "Devon, please. Please. Leave it alone. I'm fine. You're too good for me. Just leave it all alone." He said, he admitted. There. She would hear it. He had pushed her away because there was going to be someone better for her. He knew it in his heart and she needed to find that person. She was never going to find Mr. Right if she was partnered with him. Things needed to change.

TAG - DEVON and DYLAN
WORDS - 864
NOTES - He's so bad with feelings
TUNES - devil in a midnight mass , billy talent.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0

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[LESLIE DEVON]

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE RUNNING ROUND LEAVING SCARS

At his words, at his barking, she locked her jaw to remain calm. She'd dealt with this kind of behavior a million times over her entire life from her father before he passed away. She watched him become a shell of a man despite doing everything in her power to stop him. She let him beat her, let him yell at her, let him apologize the next day, and let the process repeat so she could tuck him into bed, give him some aspirin in the morning, and walk him to his job just to make sure he wouldn't stop by the bar before she'd head off to school. She'd been the parent and for the longest time, she'd told herself she'd never, ever, be with someone like him where she had to play the role of mother bear once again. Her whole life she'd been taking care of herself and other people and, well, sometimes she was wishing someone would show up and do the same for her. They didn't have to be her lover. Hell, they could be a stranger. But that day had yet to come.

"I'm not," she stated simply, bluntly, before he seemed to start rambling on again. He was wearing her patience thin...She put up with it as a kid because she thought it was normal but boot camp had definitely left its mark on her. Their entire no nonsense policy? Rubbed really deep into her brain cells, "Well someone needs to help you because you obviously can't help yourself," again with the same tone of voice and she was on her way to calming down before he told her to leave it alone. Really? Really? Just leave it alone? Let him rot away in his own grief and turn to skin and bones? Drink away his sorrow just because no one was around to stop him? Did he know her at all? Had she become that unrecognizable?

Slamming the car door shut, she looked pissed. Very pissed. She walked right up close to him, looking him dead in the eye, "Shut the fuck up and listen, ass wipe," she words came out harsher than she intended. She hadn't realized just how pissed she'd actually been at him. Maybe it was years of bottling it up that was suddenly having her unleash her eternal wrath on him. Maybe it was the anger she'd always felt toward her father for essentially and unintentionally robbing her of a childhood and teenage youth-even part of her adult life. Maybe it was just her tired of everything in general and he just so happened to be the icing on the cake that was about to be knocked over.

She sounded like her drill instructor.

"You don't know shit about real pain. If you did, you wouldn't be turning into half the man you used to be," her hands were clenched at her sides to steady herself before she could do something horrible to him physically, "I'm not going to just leave it alone because you'll end up dead and I'm the selfish bitch who can't live with that happening to someone she cares about again. So stop acting like I don't know you and stop trying to push me away because whether you like it or not I'm here and I[m not going anywhere. So either start talking or get the fuck in the car so I can drive you home." Her voice easily meant business. She wasn't playing the nice card anymore. If he didn't comply this time, she wouldn't be afraid to use force and by her stance, she was preparing herself for it. But everything she said was true. He wouldn't know pain if it bit him in the ass or screwed him sideways. Yeah, it hurt, but it wasn't the end of the world. He had to move on and he had to figure out how to do it and whether he wanted her to or not, she was obviously going to help him through it.

And though it felt strange being so close to him, the closest she'd been to him in five years up in his face the way she was, she felt surprisingly comfortable like that was exactly where she was supposed to be with her nostrils flaring and her muscles tensed and ready for whatever he threw at her.

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[graeson]

This was such a horrible mistake. He should have just called out of work today. They would have understood, especially if everyone thought that he wasn't fine. He was going to take advantage of that one day. He could use the day off. Even though Dylan didn't take his job all that seriously, he never missed a day no matter what he was doing the day or the night before his shift. That wasn't who he was. That was why he was here now, puking his brains out but still on the job. As he turned away from her, he went through the process of brushing his teeth to get the rotten taste out of his mouth. Spitting the excess out, he brushed them again, and then once more after that. This was disgusting. He hated being sick and he usually didn't. He must have drunk a lot more than he had planned on drinking, or thought he had. He needed to be careful or he was going to get really sick one time. Then no one would be there to pick him back up and he'd only have himself to blame.

As she said that he couldn't help himself, Graeson opened his mouth to argue. However, seconds passed before she snapped at him, and his jaw closed with a click from the force of the movement. Watching her now with a slightly incredulous look to his features, he couldn't believe his eyes or his ears. This was Leslie Devon. The little tomboy from the academy? The one with braces and the glasses that he only gotten her made fun of from the other guys? It didn't make sense to him. She had grown. She had changed. Not only physically but mentally as well and for the first time, he was really seeing her. The war had hardened her, as it would harden anyone else. But he finally brought his own haunted eyes to look up into hers and he studied her as if he just got eyes. The pain in her features was enough to make his breath catch, and his eyes suddenly softened, watching her. He would let her yell. He would let her carry on because it was what she needed to do. Just like he had needed to yell a minute ago, now it was her turn. And he'd take it just as she'd taken it because that was what friends did. Sighing to himself, he looked down. How could he have been such an idiot? He had let her go. He had let the only person that had ever meant anything to him go. And she had suffered. She had suffered and he hadn't even been there for her like he should have been. Biting his lower lip, he shook his head and looked up as she tore him a new one. He deserved every single word that came from her mouth.

"I'm not going home. I'm not getting in that car. We need to talk. About a lot." There. It was on the table. They needed to talk and they needed to talk sooner rather than later. Before he lost his courage to say anything to this young woman before him. As she finished her angry tirade, Graeson stood staring at her for a moment, trying to figure this girl out. The marine was strong and independent but he knew that it was a mask. She was so broken inside and he knew that it was his fault. He had caused her to feel that way. If he hadn't done it all, he had certainly contributed to it all. Stepping closer to her, he didn't give her the time to pull away. He wrapped his arms around her in an instant, pulling her close to him and not letting her pull away. He was a lot stronger than he looked, and stronger than she gave him credit before. He had seen her sizing him up before and he knew she didn't take him that seriously when it came to his physical stature because of the state that he was in. He now whispered against her ear. "I have a secret Devon. I never meant a word that I said to you that morning. The truth is, I said those things because I was terrified. I was terrified because I actually cared for you and I was afraid to because everyone just leaves Dev. I couldn't take it if you just left so I had to push you away first. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but you need to know. I never thought I'd get to say that to you. To admit that to you. I care for you so damn much it hurts. It hurt." He admitted in a whisper, not knowing what she would do or what she would say. He was waiting for a whack, but one never knew with her.

TAG - DEVON and DYLAN
WORDS - 848
NOTES - Awww
TUNES - devil in a midnight mass , billy talent.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0

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[LESLIE DEVON]

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE RUNNING ROUND LEAVING SCARS

When he hugged her, she felt all her muscles tense up an octave more, if that was even physically possible. He was hugging her-a hug. She hadn't gotten one of those in an extremely long time and she almost felt awkward in the embrace. She couldn't bring herself to return it, so she stood there with her arms at her side and her slender body rigid. At first, she was counting how long it would take for him to realize she wasn't hugging him back and that he should let her go but as his words hit her ear, her eyes widened a bit at what he was talking about. She thought he was going to talk about what was wrong with him...not the two of them and what happened all those years ago. It was, sadly, the last thing she expected to come out of his mouth.

Once it was all said and done, she seemed to remain frozen for a bit, as if letting it sink in and then eventually her muscles slowly relaxed and she felt a knot grow in her throat. She didn't want to cry. No, crying was for the weak, wasn't it? For little bitches and pussies and she wasn't about to get all vulnerable and filled with waterworks. But she found herself hugging him back, burying her face in the crook of his neck and holding on tightly. It really had been way too long...since everything, "please don't do it again," her voice cracked a bit, muffled from her face being hidden. For Christ's sake, why did she have to be born with emotions? Now she was crying and forcing herself not to start sobbing. He was apologizing and he probably didn't even realize just how much that meant to her on a greater scale. Her father had apologized tons of times to her, but it was obvious he never meant them. It was more like he was apologizing for her getting in the way more than anything. Truth was, she really didn't want that to happen again. Yeah, she used to get teased for looking and acting like such a dork but she hadn't really cared then. She was just Devon, silly, immature, pushover Leslie Devon who was just one of the guys. She didn't care about her appearance or anyone else's because she was too busy trying to see who they really were. Some would say she used to be too nice for her own good, but that enlisting helped her get a backbone. In a way they would be right but in other ways, all it did was destroy her more than she'd already been.

"That's enough," she said after a bit, pulling herself away from him and quickly wiping away the tears like they never happened, "Just get in the car," she used to have no problem being vulnerable but she couldn't handle it anymore. She used to see it as a form of strength to be able to bare one's heart on one's sleeve but now she saw it as weak and pathetic and she didn't want to look like some nerd from the academy. Grabbing a hair tie from her back pocket, she put her hair up in a messy yet simple bun to keep it out of her eyes. She didn't want to talk about this. Okay, he admitted why he did what he did but she didn't want to entirely face it. She didn't think she could. She'd have to revist that night, revist the fact he'd been the one to take her virginity whether he knew it or not, revist the whisperings of sweet nothings, the stupid drunk laughing, the heat and electricity between them, falling asleep to each other's heart beats, and then the whirlwind of clothes being thrown and her getting kicked to the curb like a stray dog.

Plus...they should be focusing on him and his issues. Not a night that happened five years ago. Straightening herself up a bit and clearing her throat, she looked right at him and tried to erase anything in her eyes, "Come on. We don't need the police called on us for disturbing the peace," something she'd seen done before but she was using it as an excuse. She just didn't want to stand outside feeling awkward that she'd hugged him and cried...had actually let go for those few precious moments before snapping back into reality. Yeah, she forgave him but she had forgiven him a long time ago-she knew he didn't mean it...but she was just in denial about it.

COLLECTING YOUR JAR OF HEARTS AND TEARING LOVE APART

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[graeson]

She didn't respond to his embrace at first and he honestly couldn't blame her. He was expecting her to push him away angrily and if that was the case, he would go right back to her. He would make her hug him if it was the last thing that she did today. If it was the last thing that he did because he was certain she'd pull her gun and shoot him because of what he had done to her. But that was beside the point anyway. Shaking those thoughts from his mind, he said what he had to say. He had to get those things off of his chest and he had to admit the truth to her. He was a coward. It was that plain and simple and she needed to know that about him. He wasn't much of anything because he had never had guidance in his life. He wasn't blaming the way that he was on anyone because he knew it was his own doing, but that didn't matter. He still didn't have anyone to tell him right from wrong ever since he was little. There was only so far common sense could take you when you believed that everything you did was right. It had been drilled into him from such a young age.

But then she responded. As he was thinking of ways to get her to hug him back, to convince her that he was sincere, he felt her relax. He was about to get down on his hands and knees to show her just how much she really did mean to him. It was desperate, but he didn't think anything else would work. However, soon enough she was hugging him, her arms wrapping around his muscled, yet thinner shoulders. He held her tightly against him, loving the feeling of her face buried into his neck. This felt right. This felt like it was how it was supposed to be. He had been missing this for five years and he had to admit he felt like a weight had just been lifted off of his shoulders. As she spoke, he listened quietly and couldn't help but smile sadly. "I can promise you that I will never, ever do that to you again Dev." He sad it with such confidence because he was confident. He would never throw her away like that again. She was his best friend, and he wanted more from her. He knew that now. That night might have been the result of way too many drinks for the both of them, but it had meant the world to Dylan after he had kicked her out that day as well. She was special. And he had let that girl slip through his fingers because he was afraid. She would have helped him through that fear, he realized that now. They could have been together now. Sighing in frustration to himself, he pulled away as she did, although he wanted her back. She had just felt so right. He didn't know how else to explain it.

"Sheesh woman, so demanding. I'll get in the car. I'm going, I'm going. But.." He moved as gracefully as he possibly could to her side of the car with a wild grin on his face. That wild grin was something that he was famous for. It was unpredictable. It was dangerous. It was exciting. And it was reckless. It was everything that he was rolled into one smile, with the charm added as well. As he stood inches in front of her, he didn't give her a moment to pull away. His lips captured hers in a kiss that meant everything to him. He put all of himself into that kiss, making sure she knew just how serious this all was to him. Kissing her passionately, he pulled away after moments, breathless, but extremely pleased with himself. Skipping back to his side of the car, he let his hand stop on the door handle and he giggled. Yes, he giggled. It was something that he had always done to fool around when they were younger as well. Bringing back old memories was what he was doing. He grinned wildly once more before diving into the car and sitting in his seat like he had obeyed her from the start. Shutting his door, he buckled up, but he couldn't wipe the smile from his face. His heart was racing and pounding and his cheeks were flushed bright. He couldn't believe he had just done that, but he didn't regret it. He turned to look at her as she got into the car and grinned innocently. "So. What are your plans after this shift Devon?"

TAG - DEVON and DYLAN
WORDS - 814
NOTES - =D
TUNES - devil in a midnight mass , billy talent.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0

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[LESLIE DEVON]

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE RUNNING ROUND LEAVING SCARS

When he kissed her, it was the last thing she expected. She was used to being serious about eighty percent of the time and his giggle didn’t help matters either. For a few extra second, Devon just stood there, awestruck by his audacity before she turned and marched on over to her side of the car and got in. She didn’t say anything but she knew damn well from the heat on her cheeks that she was blushing and now she regretted putting her hair up. If she had it down, it would be so much easier to hide it. Then she forced herself to concentrate on driving and not on him which was fine by her. Driving was more relaxing than Dylan could ever be. Asking her what she was doing after their shift, she shrugged, “I have to go for P.T in the morning,” which was when their shift ended. Sometimes, it was why Devon hated the night shift. It conflicted heavily with her early morning required work outs over at the base just outside the city, “Then a doctor’s appointment to check out the-” but she cut herself off and shook her head a bit, “You?” small talk. She’d never been all that great at it. But tomorrow she would be busy until about six and then she’d be completely free to do whatever she wanted.

She wasn’t looking forward to that doctor’s appointment though. It was just to fix some stitches she’d broken a day or two ago that she did a hack job of trying to fix on her own. She was no doctor or nurse, that’s for sure. But she hated going to the doctor’s office on the base. He always scolded her for being so reckless and not taking care of herself better. Devon, who normally thought things through, tended to act on impulse when violence was involved. Though such recklessness saved more lives than ever anticipated, she had a couple nasty scars as reminders to try and take it easy. The one she had to check out as over her left shoulder on her back where she’d gotten shot on her last tour. She wasn’t supposed to live through that one but amidst all the crap going on, the adrenaline rush had kept her going-and she saved that little boy’s life so she didn’t give two shits. To her, that was a victory scar. Not like the one on her lower stomach. That was just a reminder of failure on her part to help keep her squad members safe and out of harm’s way.

“And don’t say I’m too good for you,” she added in as his words came back to haunt her, “You’re under the influence of alcohol so your judgment is strongly impaired.” but she strongly believed in drunken words being sober thoughts. She just couldn’t bring herself to let go, though. Not of the situation but of herself. She was being too serious and she knew it but she didn’t know how to be as carefree as she used to be. She just…couldn’t. She would have kissed him back if she just let go. She probably would have done more than just kiss him but she didn’t want to admit it. She just wanted to be on good terms with him again, be friends again, not dive into his bed with his strong body against her own. No, she couldn’t let herself get that far because even if he promised he wouldn’t let that happen again, how many times had he told her stories of kicking other women out? She never thought she’d get to experience it first hand but that was beside the point. She couldn’t spend the night with someone, physically. What if she woke up in the middle night because of a night terror? What if she hit him in the middle of the night, like how many times she’d broken her lamp or alarm clock. She was a partial insomniac for that reason so the night shift, in a way, did help her. She took sleeping pills but they didn’t do much for her except leave her more restless in the morning. Maybe that was why she was so serious…she was just exhausted.

COLLECTING YOUR JAR OF HEARTS AND TEARING LOVE APART

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[graeson]

What had come over him? He really had no idea what had propelled him forward to kiss her, but for a moment he believed that it was for his own selfish reasons. Did he just really need a female's attentions that badly that he would resort to his once best friend? At first he believed that. Until he had actually kissed her. And even though she didn't kiss him back, that didn't matter to him. Not now. Not yet anyway. What mattered was what he had felt inside of himself when he kissed her. She made him feel alive. She made him feel like he actually wanted to live in this life, and to be in this place. Not that he was suicidal or anything of the sort, but he had been feeling rather pointless lately. Without his late partner he felt like he couldn't do his job. When someone was doing a job that they already didn't really care about, it didn't help when they also felt like they couldn't do it. So what was the point? However, as he kissed her, something clicked within himself. He didn't know what it was or what was going on, but for once in his stubborn life he didn't fight it. Dylan knew that he needed to let things happen. That was easier said than done though, but he wanted to do it now. With her, he wanted to let things run their own course. He wanted things to just happen. And he didn't want to stop them or even think about stopping them now.

He wanted to get to know her all over again. He wanted to be where they once were even though it was hard for him. She had left. She had made the choice to leave after he had rudely kicked her out of his room. He knew that he had pushed her away, but more than anything he had wished that he could have been the one to bring her back. It was wishful thinking as well as selfish to think that she was back here because of him. That wasn't the case at all and he would never even admit to the fact that he had even thought that. That was weak and he refused to be seen as weak, even though the choices he was making in life right now weren't strong. He was on the borderline of being an alcoholic but he didn't know how to handle it. Dylan had lost everything. He had lost his family, he had lost his best friend, he had lost Ashton because he himself had distanced himself from the kid, and he had lost his partner. He had lost himself along the way but he didn't realize it yet. He needed to in order to function and operate again, but maybe, just maybe, she could help him put the pieces back together again. Dylan would never allow himself to rely on her that much though. His trust had been shattered a long time ago and that was also another reason as to why he never stayed with a girl for very long, He didn't trust them. He knew they were going to break him so he broke them first. It was a win or lose situation and Dylan refused to be the loser. So he made them lose in any way possible. It worked for him so he certainly wasn't going to fight it. He had the reputation of heart breaker, as well as a tool, but he welcomed it. Women saw him as a challenge, and when he let them believe that they had won, he shattered them.

It was his way of life. He wasn't going to change that easily and it was rather depressing. As he looked across the car to his partner now, his once best friend, he wished that he could go back to that night. That night had changed the both of them. For her, it was better. For him, it was worse. She had gone to the marines and he didn't doubt that she saw some hard shit that she had to deal with. But she had gained so much and he needed to make her realize that. She had a backbone now. She wasn't that shy tomboy that had just faded into the ranks. She stood out, she made a name for herself and she protected herself. She didn't need him anymore, not in that way. But she did need him. He could tell because of how well he knew her. Studying Devon for another moment, he sighed softly to himself and then sat in the car. As she started making small talk, he caught the redness in her cheeks and couldn't help but grin. Shaking his head, he looked out his window and let her finished, until he heard her question. "Oh, you know.. The normal stuff. I'll be in my apartment. Alone. Just..hanging out." He was insinuating that she should be there with him, but it was up to her to figure that out or not. He wasn't going to lay it in a platter at her feet. She had to work for it. Sighing to himself, he was distracted by a group of people walking along the sidewalk. His sharp gaze studied them all but he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. They didn't pay the cruiser any mind and he didn't expect them to. The rich folks out here were never suspicious.

It was as if they had nothing to hide but Dylan knew the truth. They had everything to hide, but they were very good at it. It was hard to catch them in the act. Lucky bastards. He'd like to be able to use the money he had to wipe his..well you know. Anyway. But..the point was he hated this side of town. There was nothing to do and he was extremely bored. Losing himself a bit in his swimming mind, for he was still sobering up, he became aware that she was speaking to him. "Listen kid. Under the influence or not, it's not hard to see who the better one in this situation is." Kid. He hadn't called her in that in years. Looking down at his lap, he knew it was coming. She was going to make him talk to her. And no matter how much he didn't want to, she would find away to get him to spill. She always did. He didn't know how she did it but she never failed.

TAG - DEVON and DYLAN
WORDS - 1130
NOTES - =D
TUNES - devil in a midnight mass , billy talent.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0

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[LESLIE DEVON]

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE RUNNING ROUND LEAVING SCARS

She could see the implications of where he was going in his words but she didn't look at him. Honestly, she was a bit too nervous to look at him. She didn't say anything when he said he was going to be home alone for the rest of the day because she was afraid of where any of it might lead to. As they stopped at a light, she took a deep breathe and let it out slowly, closing her eyes for a few seconds to relax and just drive. That's all she had to do...And the next Starbucks she saw, since there were no Dunkin Donuts in this area, she was going to pull over and get herself a venti sized vanilla bean frap. She needed the sugar and that, along with a large oatmeal raisin cookie, were her absolute favorite things on the menu. Her friends that helped transform her into a girl used to yell at her when they were whipping her into shape, even though boot camp had done a good job of that. They used to slap her if she reached for something fattening. It had been three years since she had anything from Starbucks that wasn't water or a fruit salad.

"Not really," she replied as she started driving again at the mention of her last comment, "We just deal with shit differently," and she was easily slipping right into the heart of what they should be talking about.She let a tiny lapse of silence play in before she dove in head first, "What happened?" she didn't say it in a rude way or even as a question. It was said in that typical Devon tone that somehow managed to make people open up and blossom right in the palm of her hands. It was something her mother had taught her when she'd been alive. She was probably the only woman she never talked about. She had easily opened up about her father, though she always defended him with her life saying people didn't know him or what he was going through. But her mother? Her mother had been perfect...She'd been an angel on earth and she'd been taken away much too soon-taken away right when Leslie had needed her the most.

She'd lost people...more people than anyone could imagine and she always wondered how different she'd be if someone had just asked her what happened. They were two such tiny words, four syllables. Two words and no matter who it was, she would have cracked and split open in two. Maybe that was why her mother always told her that when she wanted to get something out of people for their own good, as she had done with her own husband so long ago, all she had to do...was ask. Devon looked over at him as they hit a red light. She was worried about him. She didn't know what to expect of him when she came back but it was definitely not this. Maybe she thought he'd still be a crazy bachelor wanting to snag every attractive female on the block. She'd been the first ugly girl he'd ever even looked at in such a way, right? Maybe she thought he would still barf at the thought of her. She hadn't been the twig with faint abs and lean muscles but she hadn't been morbidly obese. She ate whatever she wanted to eat and looked healthy-balanced. But she wasn't attractive. It was why she'd been a virgin for such a damn long time. Hell, maybe she thought he would have been married-finally found the one who made him settle down and be happy and have a kid and a house with a garage and a mortgage. She didn't expect him to be as broken as he was, She didn't expect an apology. She didn't expect a hug or a kiss...oh God that kiss...or a giggle. She didn't expect any of this and deep down, she could practically feel his sadness radiating from him like an ominous cloud over their heads.

And she wanted to bring back his sunshine and make the rain go away from him because that was what she did for people she cared about that were broken. She wanted to help them put the pieces back together. She did it for her father and failed and she wouldn't fail with Dylan. Even if it meant being a bitch in the process. So she remained quiet, patient, ready to listen to whatever he had to say because she wouldn't say anything until he did. She'd let him take his time like she always did and she'd help him...Not because she had to but because she wanted to.

COLLECTING YOUR JAR OF HEARTS AND TEARING LOVE APART

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[graeson]

He was coming off of his high from the alcohol that he had gotten into his system and he wasn't happy. He hated being normal. He hated being sober. Everything would catch up to him and he wasn't strong enough to face all of the demons inside of him. There was so much that people didn't know about him. There was so much that he never tell anyone, not even Devon. He had never told her about his family. Ever. He didn't want to and he wasn't going to. They were at the base of all of his problems though and it was why he was so messed up. The fact that he had just lost the only man he ever considered to be his father had sent him over the age. What he had done to Devon and to the other women in his life broke him even though he'd never admit to that. He wanted the reputation as a womanizer. He wanted to be that man that women wanted so much but knew that they couldn't have, or knew they shouldn't want him because he was only going to hurt them in the end. It was easiest that way because then no one could get hurt. Well, it was easiest because he wouldn't get hurt. That was what he needed. He needed the assurance that he was the one during the hurting and not the one receiving the hurting.

It made sense in his mind and that was why he stuck with his ways. Besides, it wasn't all that bad. He got his pleasure and his rushes, and that was all that he asked for. Now he had something else to turn to that was never going to let him down. Alcohol couldn't let him down like people did, so he drowned his sorrows in it instead of leaning on someone else to do it. In this life, in his life, he had learned that you couldn't rely on anyone. And he didn't. He would never rely on anyone ever again. He had relied on Devon at one point but that had only made her life miserable in the long run. So why would he put someone through that again? Why would he make her hurt like that again? He had just made a promise to her and he almost wished that he hadn't. Of course he would never did what he did to her back then again, but maybe it was safer for her to stay away from him. Maybe she wouldn't be hurt if something happened. One could never be sure. Of course Dylan had feelings for her, but he was having trouble admitting that to himself. Looking down at his hands once more, he took a deep breath to steady his flying mind and thoughts, trying to piece everything together. What had he done by kissing her? Had he given her false hope? Had he given himself false hope? She didn't kiss him back. He had hoped he would have gotten some kind of response but he got nothing. He also didn't receive a response to his cheeky comments. What was he doing? They weren't who they were back then. He had to stop.

He couldn't string her along and he refused to do that. Now that he was dependent on a substance he didn't know what he would do if he came across her while he was piss drunk. Sure, he had been buzzed this time, but that was nothing compared to what he usually drank himself to. And now he was completely sober and these conflicting thoughts were running through his mind. He hated this. He hated being sober. It was scary that that was how he thought but he couldn't change it and he didn't want to. Taking another deep breath, he exhaled softly and heard her words. They handled shit differently? Well that was the understatement of the century. Shaking his head and looking out the window, he studied the lone person walking by. It was strange to see people out and about by themselves like that on this side of town, so Dylan swung around in his seat to let his gaze trail after the dark clad figure. Furrowing his brow, he almost missed the next statement she directed at him. There it was. The two words that always had him confessing before. Well it wasn't going to be that easy this time. He watched the figure disappear around the corner before he felt satisfied that nothing was up with that, and then sank back into his seat facing forward. He would be stubborn now. It was how the sober Dylan had always been. "I could ask you the same question." He parried, looking sideways at her with his baby blue eyes that were finally clear. They looked exhausted, but they were clear because he was sober. It was a change to be honest and he didn't think he liked it.

TAG - DEVON and DYLAN
WORDS - 856
NOTES - I love them!
TUNES - devil in a midnight mass , billy talent.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0

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