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.
She had a blank expression on her face as she put out her cigarette, ”How can you break something that is already broke? When you learn to live your own life and stop taking care of everyone let me know.” She said picking up her rifle and putting her boots back on, ”Don’t wait up.” She said walking out the door.
Summer held her breath until the other was gone, the door jerked shut, before, she looked down at her hands and burst into tears. “This /is/ my life, don’t you see? There isn’t anything else. If I don’t care about others, what good am I?” she whispered.
She couldn’t help what she heard from other peoples’ open hearts. She couldn’t help knowing what she knew about them, how knowledge and observation gave her more insight than she’d ever wanted into the roots of those emotions. But it was too late now. She’d have to carry Deva’s pain right alongside her own, and try to keep pretending it didn’t matter.
Stumbling out to the living room, she curled up on the pillows and wrapped her arms around herself, holding tight while the spasms shook her body and snapped her spine like a whip. She’d not burn this pain away. No, this one she’d earned.