What the actual fuck was going on with her? Dan stepped away while she was naming streets, trying not to think about the pain in his face while he swallowed blood, but then she was walking towards him again. His mind was suddenly full of purple again, some guy in a purple suit with a vest and a pocket square, whispering nasty little things, and before Dan could shake the image or move away, he was grabbed.
"Jessica! Wh-" he managed before she lifted him up like he weighed nothing and then swung him around before he was flying through the air. All he could do was get his arms up in front of his face before he crashed through something and then landed on the ground with a thud. He skidded to a halt, having his own flashbacks to the last time he'd been thrown out of a window (Barfight, he was twenty-four and he'd needed stitches when a lump of glass sliced open a bit of skin over his shoulder-blade).
"fuuuuck," he groaned, and tried to get to his feet but that was far easier said than done. Everything hurt; his face where she'd hit him, his head and shoulder where he'd crashed through something made of space-glass, same shoulder when he'd landed on it, and he was pretty certain he'd cut himself all over as well given that he was lying on broken glass.
"get up, dan," he muttered as his head spun, "get up get up come on!" He'd fought stronger guys than him before, and won! He could get to his feet.