There was a reason they called it 'fight or flight'; Kit felt as though they were nearing the edge of something, some chasm she'd been trying not to tumble into - probably just as much as John had been trying to keep her from it - and the rush of it through her blood made her want to run. Whether figuratively or literally, she wasn't sure.
It'd be so easy to turn around and go; she'd done it before, after all, when things had gotten too dangerous. She could leave this place and never have to worry about what secrets it held, about all these cryptic statements whose meanings she dared not divine. She'd never have to think of it, or be stuck in this limbo between pressing curiosity and blissful ignorance.
And, in all likelihood, she'd never see John again.
When had that become the thorn in her side that was keeping her here? But she knew the answer: from the moment she'd arrived. Crowley was right. She hadn't come all this way after seven years for things not to work again. Nor had she been foolish enough to think it'd be easy, that they could pick up from some idyllic starting place. It was going to take work on both their parts, and perhaps for her, for right now, that meant not shutting out every little detail she didn't want to hear.
"They're all... like you, are they?" It wasn't any particular hesitancy on Kit's part to speak the word; rather, she didn't know what word to use. Brendan had fancied himself a sorcerer, but she didn't know what terminology John preferred. She didn't even know what John did, apart from the occasional scam. That had all been a part of his 'bad shit.' She'd never asked, and he'd never told her. "That Gabriel bloke? An' Crowley? They do what you do?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2007-09-19 07:18 am (UTC)It'd be so easy to turn around and go; she'd done it before, after all, when things had gotten too dangerous. She could leave this place and never have to worry about what secrets it held, about all these cryptic statements whose meanings she dared not divine. She'd never have to think of it, or be stuck in this limbo between pressing curiosity and blissful ignorance.
And, in all likelihood, she'd never see John again.
When had that become the thorn in her side that was keeping her here? But she knew the answer: from the moment she'd arrived. Crowley was right. She hadn't come all this way after seven years for things not to work again. Nor had she been foolish enough to think it'd be easy, that they could pick up from some idyllic starting place. It was going to take work on both their parts, and perhaps for her, for right now, that meant not shutting out every little detail she didn't want to hear.
"They're all... like you, are they?" It wasn't any particular hesitancy on Kit's part to speak the word; rather, she didn't know what word to use. Brendan had fancied himself a sorcerer, but she didn't know what terminology John preferred. She didn't even know what John did, apart from the occasional scam. That had all been a part of his 'bad shit.' She'd never asked, and he'd never told her. "That Gabriel bloke? An' Crowley? They do what you do?"