quicklog: Gwen S/Jason T
[Here was the empty classroom, as promised, though they weren't dreaming anymore. Jason stepped through in a pair of worn jeans pulled from the edge of the bed after he'd blearily woken early that morning. No leather jacket today, not with such a warm May in New York.
The impromptu invitation had surprised him. Of course he wanted to see Gwen, but she'd been antsy about him popping into Marvel. He still wasn't completely sold on whether he'd help or hurt the Carnage situation, and while he respected her, he was starting to get twitchy about not doing anything. No matter how much Parker promised he wouldn't let Gwen dangle herself as bait, Jason knew full well she could do just that without asking anyone's permission.
He'd probably lost the fight for Gwen, but he hadn't given up on her. He had thought, maybe when this thing with Carnage was over...but now it seemed like it might stretch on for months. Maybe waiting wasn't the best idea. Hadn't it been long enough since the mess with Mary Jane? They hadn't talked about it in a long while. Maybe it could stay that way, stay forgotten.
He pretended nonchalance about dreaming he was Death, but it had unnerved him. Just because nothing bad had happened in the dreams didn't mean it felt okay. It had felt like giving up, cutting loose all those attachments to people who might die. It had been good not to worry, but when the price was feeling nothing much for anyone, what was it worth? He always found direction in strong feelings, about morality and other people. Letting that wash away was exhilarating, but not the cold remove that came with it. He hadn't quite scrubbed it from under his fingernails yet. Maybe that would just take time.
He knocked on the doorframe as he came through.] You ready?