“You’ll never know the difference, luv. Or maybe you’d prefer to be feeling this as I sew you up? We can sit here and compare the length of our pain all day, but unless you stop being cryptic and give me some truth, little sister, you’ll never know if physical or emotional pain hurts more.” Summer didn’t look up into the other girl’s face, watching her hands move across the bloody skin.
She hissed, her ego starting to show up more and more, ”You think I care, I dug a bullet out my fucking ribs, I don’t care, I have been shot stabbed thrown from windows, I don’t care, I have been lied to, abused, raped, and cheated, I don’t fucking care, if I feel like being cryptic guess what I will, I call you ‘sister’ out of respect, but don’t think I won’t take that back and start calling you whiny bitch instead.” She said, her teeth bared.
Pressing a bandage firmly over the few stitches, Summer rinsed her hands and folded her arms while Deva ranted. “Is it that frightening, that someone cares about you, wants to know you’re well? Loki’s daughter?” She watched, head tipped to one side. “That bad that someone can see into you?”
Very softly, she added, “Why does it frighten you that I care?”
“It doesn’t frighten me,” She said inhaling, ”It annoys me, so many say they care and yet none are present. You try and make it seem like you are sincere with being able to see into me, I only see it as teasing, as rubbing in my face that I’m readable. It pisses me off to the extremely and really makes me want to either kill you or break you.” She said fixing her suit and getting off the counter, ”I don’t need you to care for me, I never asked you to.”
Summer spread her arms wide. “Break me, then. Take back what you need. Just remember this: /you/ chose to name me as a sister, without considering what that might mean. /This/ is what it means. That I care, and will care, and won’t ever stop caring. I’ll pick you up when you ask, and let you fall when you need, and carry every burden I can for you.”
Always the broken ones, she thought.