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there it goes again, take me to the edge again.
Who: Jason and Annie.
Where: The Bernhard Warehouse.
When: Mid-afternoon.
It was usually for the best for Jason to keep his distance from the others when he didn’t trust himself to keep everything under control. If nothing else he might say or do something that offended or hurt someone else’s feelings and these people were supposed to be able to trust and respect him. How could they do that if he upset them? The worst case scenario was that he would lose his temper too much to pull back from and he would do something he would end up regretting, potentially for the rest of his life, someone might pay the price for his lack of control and that was a risk Jason wasn’t willing to take.
That was one of the main reasons he’d had this one piece of equipment installed in the place not long after their arrival. As strange an investment as it might have seemed to most people, especially for a group who didn’t have much of anything at all, the bag was all but invaluable, a healthy way for Jason to release the stress and pressure that could build up to boiling point. That was a stage none of them wanted him to reach, they had all seen or at least heard what happened when he passed the point of no return. They had had to leave London because of that temper of his, because he’d almost killed a man and revealed himself as a supernatural. A wild animal.
The yell that broke out of him when he swung a fresh punch into the bag was ragged and angry, thick with aggression and frustration and all that tension that was threatening to strain his muscles to breaking point. Sweat trickled down his bare arms and the sides of his face, threatening to sting his eyes before he lifted a roughly bound hand to swipe it away. His hair was plastered to his temples and brow and his chest heaved as he stepped back from the swinging back and then paced around it. When he attacked again it was suddenly, swiftly and sharply, striking with all the power he had to throw into the blows.
Jason didn’t like feeling out of control. Someone or something had stripped that away, not just from him but from all of them, leaving them blank and dazed, their true identities washed away. Perhaps that was what was really getting to him, losing that sense of calm ignorance and easy control, having to come back to this. Anger, frustration, restlessness. Rage.