[First: J doesn't cry. It's not something she's necessary proud of but the fact is that there only is few things that manage to pass through all the walls and barriers she's built around her heart. And she'll fight anyone to the death and claim that those are more for convenience than for protection (she didn't need it). It'd be no use if she were to cry about every little sad thing like a distasteful little child. She doesn't have time for something like that.
Second: J doesn't do goodbyes. Never. They're just another inconveniences, total bore and useless. In her life she's made sure to be prepared to back her things and just leave were the situation ever dire enough. Family. Orphanage. Carensberg. New York. There's already mountains of ashes from all the bridges she's burned in her past, making sure to sever each bond so that no one would ever come after her. Saying a goodbye would only make things unnecessarily complicated. Really.
And yet here she is. Crouching on the floor behind a bar counter and weeping.
She had caught the small man in her room early in the morning. No doubt he was hoping that the darkness and her sleep would be enough cover for him to leave his letter all in secret. No surprise there. No goodbyes. She and Sans had been more alike than either of them ever dared to admit. And then he was nowhere to be found. After that J's first reaction, naturally, was to hurry to the bar and start packing. With Sans disappearance the Captains would take all the rooms away from him and then find out about their little business. She couldn't have that. For some reason unknown to her she didn't even think of calling Shepard or Tony to help her with the task but she's sure glad about it.
It all started with one tear. Her eyes got itchy and burning but as she tried to relief the discomfort with rubbing them another tear fell and after that she couldn't stop rest from coming. She knelt on the floor, covered her eyes and cried silently. She hated Sans. She hated herself. For all the mistakes she had done as she had failed to see the obvious before it had been pointed out to her. That there had been a net that would catch her every time she were to fall. No judgement or hate just protection. And now that net is gone.
She doesn't see Peter, how could she? She probably wouldn't even realize his presence if he were to stand there still for hours watching her.]
[Peter's seen people cry before, but watching someone he cares about break down has never gotten any easy. He's watched his mother cry after every bad breakup, watched her drown sorrows in bottle after bottle until she's all red eyed and runny mascara. Peter's watched his Wanda bawl about teenage boys and math tests, about their mother's spending and his frequent police visits. He's sat in his little sister's room late at night, rubbing her back while she sobbed about nightmares, when she asked questions Peter didn't have answers to.
He knows at the time those moments all hurt beyond what he had words for, each feeling so big that nothing would top it. Right now feels the same, watching J quietly weep.
Peter knows what she's crying for, doesn't have to ask to feel in is bones this is about Sans. As much as anyone else on board, he knows what that hurt feels like.It's so much worse that she's not making a sound, just a heavy stream of tears and shaking shoulders. Something like this deserves screaming, he thinks, deserves explosive noise. But she can't have that because of him and it's all that keeps him from going to her.
He doesn't think their relationship now allows for him to comfort her, even as Peter finds himself surprised that he wants to push everything aside to do just that. Instead he just breathes, watches long enough for the image to be seared in his brain as some personal penitence. Quietly, he backs out of the room and eyes burning.
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Second: J doesn't do goodbyes. Never. They're just another inconveniences, total bore and useless. In her life she's made sure to be prepared to back her things and just leave were the situation ever dire enough. Family. Orphanage. Carensberg. New York. There's already mountains of ashes from all the bridges she's burned in her past, making sure to sever each bond so that no one would ever come after her. Saying a goodbye would only make things unnecessarily complicated. Really.
And yet here she is. Crouching on the floor behind a bar counter and weeping.
She had caught the small man in her room early in the morning. No doubt he was hoping that the darkness and her sleep would be enough cover for him to leave his letter all in secret. No surprise there. No goodbyes. She and Sans had been more alike than either of them ever dared to admit. And then he was nowhere to be found. After that J's first reaction, naturally, was to hurry to the bar and start packing. With Sans disappearance the Captains would take all the rooms away from him and then find out about their little business. She couldn't have that. For some reason unknown to her she didn't even think of calling Shepard or Tony to help her with the task but she's sure glad about it.
It all started with one tear. Her eyes got itchy and burning but as she tried to relief the discomfort with rubbing them another tear fell and after that she couldn't stop rest from coming. She knelt on the floor, covered her eyes and cried silently. She hated Sans. She hated herself. For all the mistakes she had done as she had failed to see the obvious before it had been pointed out to her. That there had been a net that would catch her every time she were to fall. No judgement or hate just protection. And now that net is gone.
She doesn't see Peter, how could she? She probably wouldn't even realize his presence if he were to stand there still for hours watching her.]
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He knows at the time those moments all hurt beyond what he had words for, each feeling so big that nothing would top it. Right now feels the same, watching J quietly weep.
Peter knows what she's crying for, doesn't have to ask to feel in is bones this is about Sans. As much as anyone else on board, he knows what that hurt feels like.It's so much worse that she's not making a sound, just a heavy stream of tears and shaking shoulders. Something like this deserves screaming, he thinks, deserves explosive noise. But she can't have that because of him and it's all that keeps him from going to her.
He doesn't think their relationship now allows for him to comfort her, even as Peter finds himself surprised that he wants to push everything aside to do just that. Instead he just breathes, watches long enough for the image to be seared in his brain as some personal penitence. Quietly, he backs out of the room and eyes burning.
He doesn't deserve the chance to cry with her.]