Chapter Text
Chapter One
Coming back to Westerley, they find Old Town in shambles. Everything the bombers haven’t destroyed is slowly being plucked apart by inhabitants trying to scrape together a living and scavengers using the chaos to take what isn’t theirs.
But Pree refuses to let the Royale be a part of the destruction, determined that if he can pretty his girl up again the rest of Old Town will follow. And so they help him with the clean-up and the repairs when they are not chasing flimsy leads or knocking off low-level warrants around the Quad. John enjoys the work – fixing the wiring in the bar has the same calming effect tinkering with Lucy has. It gives his hands something to do and keeps his mind just occupied enough for him to not lose his shit completely.
And one day, Pawter comes back. She talks little about the time in the bunkers, but the tired look in her eyes and the slump of her shoulders tell the story for her. She goes back to work immediately, salvaging what’s left of her practice. It’s not much, so she spends most of her time trying to find supplies and helping people with the few meds she still has. John feels bad about taking the bit of joy she makes from her few paying customers, but she refuses to let them pay for the equipment and medicine they buy on Leith. They don’t talk about the fact that 50 joy would never be enough to pay for the ten bottles of anesthetic they bring her from one of their visits to Bellus. She’s Illenore Pawter Simms of Land Simms – and even though the ties to her family are more broken than ever, her upbringing still keeps her from accepting handouts.
The first time they kiss, it feels like it has been a long time coming. John isn’t surprised when it happens – between exposed wires in the back of the bar – it had been building up for weeks. While Dutch is the rock that keeps him together on the job and on the hunt for D’Avin, Pawter is the one allowing him to give into his fears from time to time, sharing his worries and pain without hesitation so he can pull himself back together after without feeling like he is bursting at the seams. And while her hands are as calloused as his are from the rebuilding, her lips are soft and her arms ground him in a way only a lover can.
The sex is good too. He had been aware that his right hand wasn’t a sufficient replacement for another person’s body, but with everything that was going on around them, he couldn’t get himself to find a sexter to relieve this particular kind of tension. Lying in his bed on Lucy with her feels good, comfortable. Fucking on the couch in her practice leaves him relaxed and even happy – for the short time it takes for the rest of his shitty life to come rushing back at least.
He’s not in love with her, but he feels like he is heading that way and he is ok with that.
There’s just one thing….
Sometimes, the faint taste of burnt coffee beans on her lips wakes up carefully suppressed memories of sneaking through dirty streets to meet shady people, of cleaning up vomit after helping his mother back into her bed, of worrying about how to get the money for her next fix. He doesn’t hold it against her. He has seen too much to even judge her for it. Everyone has an addiction – drugs, sex, religion…everyone needs something to get them through the dark times. But this particular poison, he’s not sure he can recover from again. They say you try Jakk once and you’re hooked for life. Sometimes, he fears that Pawter will bring back an addiction he thought he quit when he walked away from his mother’s grave.