Janis (she's really brave, even when she's crying) (efflux) wrote in gen_m_logs, @ 2008-07-07 12:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | david samson, janis jones |
log: Janis and Dave
Who: Janis Jones and David Samson
What: Janis is doing some laundry after the Canada Thing. Janis is all "Hey, let's talk about our situation!" And Dave is all "OK!" And then the Hulk is all "I HAVE A BETTER IDEA." Who wins? (Hint: No one really wins, but Dave ends up laying on the laundry room floor all by himself at the end of the log).
When: Thursday the 3rd, I believe?
Where: Laundry room.
Janis was pretty glad that Jack was the designated Bringer of Clothes on their Canadian journey. Sunday was her laundry day. She didn't even have anything to bring if she had the time to pack anything. Now it's later in the week and she's down to things she never wears. Doing her laundry in her Emergency Clothes. Ugly plaid shorts and a t-shirt that is probably a little too tight for her. Not only that, but she's sitting on the washer reading US WEEKLY. So it's a good thing no one will catch her like this.
Isn't that always the way of things? You think you're alone with a moment to yourself and the next thing you know you have a dirty door. Dave pulled his make-shift wall from where he'd tacked it up to cover the hole and tossed them in with the rest of his clothes. It was a light load, but the sheets needed a fresh, clean scent. Something positive.
Carrying a little basket, Dave makes his way to the laundry room and manages not to turn heel to toe the moment he catches sight of Janis. Janis in her Emergency Clothes, reading, looking absolutely normal and wonderful. Not glamorous in the slightest but still.... wow. He looks down. "Hey," he offers and heads to a washer.
Janis slowly lowers her magazine. "Hee...eey." Figures. Figures, him of all people. Why! Why? "Why!" Oops, she said that part outloud.
David holds up his basket before setting it down. "Laundry," he answers or maybe just confirms. There's a pause before he finds something to say as he puts in his load. "Oh, uh... Mom asked about you. I told her you came and got me and she said to say 'thanks' so... thanks. From her this time." Though he could keep saying thank you for himself until the sun rose and set.
"Ah, I'll tell her she's welcome. Or you can?" Whichever works. Dave probably talks to Jen more than she does, right? She's filling her head with thoughts like that. Hrm, when was the last time I talked to Jen? Did I leave my hot plate on in McCoy's classroom? Distraction doesn't work, "So, are we going to talk about this?" This is gestured with the magazine, folded in half and wagged in front of her. No, we're not going to talk about Suri Cruise.
"Uhhh, sure." I didn't even dress for the occasion. "Well..." What to say, what to say... Taking care of the laundry provides a good prop, something to do with his hands. "What exactly about... this do you want to talk about?" He holds his hands out, as if offering anything she could want from him or just waiting to get executed. Let him have it.
Janis nearly wings the magazine at him. Very slowly, calmly, like he's a crazy person, "Do you remember what you said the other night?" When you were obviously drunk.
Deep breath. "Yes. Yes I do." His hands swing free and wind up behind his back, posture straightening for support like he was going before the judge's bench. To prove his bravery, Dave goes for broke. "I said that I missed my chance to tell you I love you," he states quietly, managing to even look at her through the whole thing. He waits for the worst and his pulse rate jumps.
Wasn't this something she wanted to hear? She's hearing and it's not giving her the feeling she wanted. "What makes you think that was your only chance?" This is so twisted. Urge to kill rising. Janis twists the magazine into a cylinder.
Dave puts two fingers to his pulse at his neck. It's starting to be a nervous tick. "Because you're... trying to kill your magazine," he notes, using his other hand to sort of loosely gesture towards the twisted magazine.
Janis sits the magazine on the washer next to her. She looks defeated, hangs her head. Then a second later, she raises her head and sticks her chin out. "This isn't happening the right way. You're supposed to tell me you love me and that you've always loved me or... some shit like that. And then you're supposed to ... " Take her in your arms, Dave! Right. Who's she kidding?
"Well, if you'd have shown me the script maybe I'd be a little more on book with my lines here." Yeah, that was harsh and Dave instantly regrets it, turning away to run a hand through his hair. His throat feels tight and he's trying to remain relaxed here. "Look, I understand if everything I heard in the diner gave me the wrong impression-" YOU THINK I'M CRAZY. "-and... being me, I'm not exactly the best catch here or that... thinking about it you'd rather see me drown, whatever. I'm not going to hold you to anything so if ... Wes asks you out to dinner or you don't ever want to speak of this again, I'm cool. Really." He's trying to sell himself on this. It fails.
"No... I'm not cool, that's a lie," he sighs and just goes back to setting the controls on the washing machine.
Janis hugs her knees to her chest. "I just thought we were talking about how things are supposed to be in the movies. Since you were babbling about that the other night." She keeps telling herself, you're so stupid. Then she stops herself. Dave's the stupid one. She releases her knees and hops off the washer. Janis pokes Dave's arm with one finger. "You wouldn't care if I stopped talking to you?" Another poke, "You wouldn't care if I started seeing Wes?" Another poke, "You're horrible. Why would you say that?!" She grabs her magazine and throws it in her basket. Starts to gather up her stuff from the dryer even though it's still running. He said it was a lie, he said he wasn't cool with it. But it still makes her mad. Clutching the basket, "Maybe I should!" She's bluffing. "I'll just forget this whole thing."
Dave turns incredulously as he's poked. He said them, he thought he meant it but suddenly it's all thrown back in his face and there's a certain amount of panic in his features as he's poked away from the washer as if there was TNT in her finger. "What? Wait- no! I said- *urkk*"
His words are cut off as something in the color of his eyes changes, briefly greenish in hue before he doubles over in pain. David feels like he's going to throw up and in a way, he is, just it's a little portion of his personality. Next to that portion is a whole other one that actually wouldn't mind giving up control, just curl up deep within his psyche and hide from his huge mistake of even bringing this up, having Janis angry with him, how messed up this all is, but as he drops to a knee and grinds his teeth, he knows he can't. He can't give in. His father was wrong, this is not enjoyable and there was no way he was letting it get the better of him now. Not in front of her. His muscles clench and veins rise in Dave's skin as he holds himself in, unable to speak outside of a small gurgle.
Janis drops her basket and kneels next to him. "No no no, I'm sorry. Dave, don't do this. Stay with me. I'm sorry. I'll talk to you, I'll talk to you all the time. I love you." Janis kisses his forehead, veiny skin and all. She grabs the sides of his head, "Look at me. Hey, c'mon! I swear to God, you change into it and I'll kick your ass."
He's shaking though the tremble comes from under his skin, one part seizure and one-part demonic possession as David jerks and moves as if there was a time bomb under his rib cage. And there was. His eyes are glassy and green, sightless, with his mouth open just a little to huff out breaths like an angry bull. His skin is sickly pale and fever hot, already starting to sweat as little beads forming at his temples to run down the sides of his face. This is not a well man but someone who just might be a lot stronger than he looks. Heartbeats pass as his body both embraces and rejects the change, long heartbeats...
Janis tries to hold onto him, not as if he's going to hurt himself or her. Not tight, not trying to restrain him. More like she's afraid if she lets go, he's gone. "David Samson. I know you can do this. Please, stay here with me." Or I swear to God, I'll fight the Hulk. Smack him with a rolled up magazine. She kisses his forehead, his cheek, wincing a little at the fact that this guy looks like he's going to vomit. His skin is hot, it's not a nice feeling. She needs holy water or something.
It's like holding living boiling coffee wrapped in skin. Dave shuts his eyes tight, face scrunched up in pain and determination, something of a splitting headache settling in where the Hulk had tried to emerge. Part of him really wanted to let go...
The tremors fade, the sweating remains and his skin flushes a sort of pink to fill in what had nearly come to pass. His teeth can finally unclench, causing him to take great gulps of air as his lips look a lot redder than they should. Must have bitten his tongue. He still can't speak, still can't open his eyes, brain aching from what he just pulled off. David breathes.
Janis cringes, waiting for it to happen. She doesn't think Dave's weak-- just that the Hulk is stronger. When the coast appears clear, Janis wraps her arms around him and squeezes tight. Oh! Oh right! She backs off, scoots and sits with her feet under her. "Are you all right?" How is this ever going to work? They have a disagreement, he's going to either turn into a monster or have a seizure trying not to turn. Give up! Give up and stay away. "I'm sorry." She reaches out to grab his hand. She really just wants to hold his hand, even if her common sense is telling her to get away. Janis doesn't listen to her common sense when Dave's around.
When Janis lets go, David just falls over, curling up into a fetal position as if holding himself where she wouldn't. Everything hurt, every bone, muscle and tissue hurt in his body and he would have bet good money on his heart exploding from pressure within the next five minutes. With something of an unwanted groan, Dave winces as a series of cramps seize up his limbs, still tensed from his efforts. He felt sick and dizzy and stupid and Janis's hand in his.
His mouth tasted like a penny milkshake. "I... didn't mean to... change the subject...," he pants, letting his head rest against the ground. "You.... you could.... you can go back to ... yelling at me now..."
Janis frowns and releases his hand. "Well now I don't want to." She folds her arms across her chest so they have something to do.
"Alright then." Dave swallows. "Oh, that hurt. That hurt a lot. I think I'm going to be sick." He manages one deep breath before starting to cough. "I did it though..."
"I'm sorry, thank you, and good job. In that order." Janis feels a little awkward now. She doesn't like it. "So, I can't yell at you." She looks like she's storing this information away for later.
"No... no. You can. You just... you just scared me." And I'm scared for you. "I... I'm sorry, too." Another wince and groan as Dave decides against moving.
Janis slides down to the floor. Who knows what's on this floor, but this is a mansion, surely it's cleaned often. She lays on her stomach, rests her head on the floor next to Dave's. "By raising my voice?" Be more specific, David.
Dave can't open his eyes just yet, making a small noise as something in his body resets back to its default position. "You were mad at me.... maybe are mad at me and.... I'm just too pathetic right now..." He's never doing that, he's never stopping a change like that again. When you're falling into madness, dive because the impact smarts like a son of a bitch. He coughs some and winces.
"I'm not mad at you. I'm just frustrated." She won't argue the pathetic part. Janis reaches over and brushes some of his hair back. She feels like she should be babying him and stuff-- but this is different. Dave is different.
"Yeah... me too," Dave answers. "And... in a lot of pain, have I mentioned that?"
Gently, "What am I supposed to do about it, Dave?" Janis' hand slowly comes back from Dave's hair to rest on the floor near her body. "Do you want to try standing up? Is this a job for some baby aspirin? Do you want me to help you pop your back? Get you some hard liquor?" You're cute when you're drunk.
"You don't have to do anything about it." Another deep breath. Oh good. "I didn't... I..." He rolls his shoulders and just sucks it up. His parents are physical powerhouses and he's near tears because of a leg and arm cramp. "I'm just gonna lie here." A pause. "Sorry for killing the romance."
Janis laughs, "There wasn't any romance." She scoots a little. Like a slug in the form of a girl, like an army crawl on the linoleum. "Would it be all right..." She keeps scooting until she's a few inches from him. "I mean, are you in too much pain..." How do you ask if you can kiss someone? She's never asked anyone before!
Maybe he can just sleep here, on the floor of the laundry room. It smells like dryer sheets and that's pretty comforting. His body feels like it's gone though an ugly bout of the flu, his mouth tastes like blood and foam and his head was splitting in half because it actually avoided splitting in half. The joints in his fingers hurt, but he reaches up out of his little pain ball and finds Janis's hand to hold it in his own. David feels a little bit better.
That's plenty. It's something. She can leave it at that. "Maybe it'll get easier." Janis means him repressing the change, but it could apply to other things.
"God, I hope so," Dave moans quietly. He gives her hand a little squeeze.
"I'm going to stay here with you." Janis isn't sure if she should tell or ask. "Is that all right?"
"Well. You have laundry to do." Of course she's going to stay. Dave tries rolling an ankle and his muscles revolt. Yeah, he's staying here on the floor.
"That's not why." Janis would hit him if if he were anyone else.
Dave sighs. "I know, Janis." So he broke his humor too. Technically, it was a bad joke considering how many raw nerves were out on display between the two of them. Willing himself into another deep centering breath and trying to keep his head clear, his free hand got underneath him to try and push himself up, sucking in breath as a hiss.
With Dave sitting up, Janis is suddenly very aware she's laying on her stomach on the laundry room floor. And holding Dave's hand. She releases him, sits up and settles against a washing machine. "What do you want me to do?" The big picture. Or right now. She could do his laundry?
He feels like he has arthritis, or at least what all those ads on TV present as arthritis. Dave's not sure if he can make it to his feet without throwing up, so he just slumps forward, grateful to be somewhat sitting up instead of curled in a ball. "What do I-," he starts and bites off his next words. He could barely get his own act together, let alone say anything for her. Swallowing, he could really use a drink of water but what he says instead is, "I don't need you to do anything, Janis, really. Do what you need to do."
"What I need to do..." Get on with her life? Janis stands up, goes back to the basket she abandoned. "I think I need to go. But I hope that you will eventually get it. You're not alone in this. People care about you. Enough to go to friggin' Canada, at the least. And a girl loves you ... very much. Flaws and all." The basket is rested against her hip, a free hand awkwardly goes to pet his hair, smooth it back away from his face, just to touch him in general. "I'll wait. Just let me know when."
Dave doesn't say anything, he just reaches up and takes the hand against his face. Silently, he looks up at her and holds on to her fingers and with a minimum of effort, he holds her knuckles to his lips.
Janis almost loses her grip on the basket. Didn't expect that. She's torn between crouching beside him and taking her hand back. She stands there paralyzed, except for her hand. It's shaking.
Her hand gets a squeeze and his thumbs soothes a little spot against her fingers. This might be romantic, this might be pathetic, Dave is in no condition to tell. He does however, hope it's a suitable 'thank you' and really, it's all his got right now. Janis deserves better.
Janis takes it as 'I'm sorry.' She pulls her hand away slowly, turning it to touch her fingertips to trace along his bottom lip for a moment. Just passing through, just on my way out. She doesn't say goodbye, she just walks towards the door. She's said plenty, if not too much.