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“C’mon, Jon.” Daisy pushed his glass further across the table, closer towards him. “Drink up.”
Jon stared into the glass of whiskey. He picked it up, swirling it around a few times, watching the liquid ride up the side of the glass, like waves crashing upon the shore. His stare quickly turned into glare, which in turn moulded into a look of defeat as he allowed the glass to drop back to the table.
“Why are we doing this, again?” he asked, glancing back up at Daisy, who simply sighed.
“I told you already,” she said. “You’ve really got to loosen up. I don’t- I don’t like seeing you sad.”
Jon huffed. “And what exactly is there to be happy about?”
“I’m not saying that you need to be happy all the time either,” Daisy clarified. “Everything doesn’t need to be all sunshine and rainbows. Just…” She took a swig of her pint, sighing again. “You need to let yourself enjoy things every once in a while.”
Jon stared back into his glass. “And you think alcohol will help with that?”
Daisy shrugged. “It helps me. When I was, you know, still with the police, it always helped after a particularly bad case to celebrate with a drink or two.”
“What, and after reading a particularly horrific statement, I’m supposed to drown out all that fear and dread with ten shots of vodka?”
“What I’m saying is,” Daisy said, “is that it can’t hurt to have one good evening where you can forget about all that stuff.” She took another hearty gulp, her first pint almost half empty by now, whilst Jon hadn’t even touched his drink. “Rather than, you know. Sitting by yourself in your office and being all miserable.”
Deep down, Jon didn’t want to be miserable. He wanted to be normal.
But it was too late for that now, wasn’t it? This was what he deserved.
He didn’t understand why Daisy looked at him like that. Looked at him with worry, sympathy .
Before he could convince himself otherwise, he picked up his glass and downed the double shot in one, wincing as the liquid went down his throat.
“There we go!” Daisy exclaimed, giving Jon a grin, which he did his best to return. “You want me to order another? Though I… would advise against drinking the next in one as well.”
Jon let out a quiet laugh. “Are you… sure this is a good idea?” he asked.
Daisy tilted her head. “What, not drinking it in one go?”
“No, no, I- Just, drinking. Getting drunk.” He stared down into the empty glass, frowning slightly. “You do know I’ve had struggles with addition, right?”
Daisy huffed. “Yeah. You’re addicted to forcing people to relive their worst memories so you can feed off their fear. Just like I’m addicted to chasing people down so I can drag them into a forest and brutally murder them,” she said, her tone far too cheery for the subject matter. “A drink or two isn’t going to hurt.”
She wasn’t wrong, Jon supposed. At least here, under Daisy’s supervision, he wasn’t running off to consume another unsuspecting victim’s fear.
“Besides,” Daisy said, “I think drinking alone in your room after a bad break-up is a little different to drinking with your friend after a shit day at work on a Friday.”
“I… I suppose so.”
“...and, if it helps, I’ll- I’ll keep an eye on you,” she promised. “Make sure you don’t go overboard.”
A small smile crept onto his face. “I’d, uh… appreciate that.”
“So…” Daisy finished off her pint, slamming the glass down on the table. “Am I getting us the next round, or…?”
Jon rolled his eyes fondly. “Alright, alright. If you insist.”
In the end, Jon did have a good night. He didn’t drink quite as much as Daisy - whilst he did struggle to know his own limits at times, Daisy had, as she promised, kept an eye on him, and stopped him when she felt he was done. He did appreciate it - the buzz was nice enough as it was, and he didn’t particularly feel like spending the whole weekend shaking.
The night air was nice, as well, as the two stumbled their way home, quiet laughter still drifting between them. At some point, Daisy had started to tell stories about her time in the police force - stories of weird cases, though not the supernatural ones. Just… silly times, funny stories.
It was a bit of a relief, really, to consume that sort of thing. Memories filled with smiles and inside jokes, rather than… constant fear. Even if it didn’t feed him, exactly, it… invigorated him, he supposed.
He hadn’t laughed this much in… well, he- he couldn’t remember.
It had, however, taken a lot out of him.
Not only had he not laughed like this in a while, he also… hadn’t really been outside much in general, since waking up from that coma. Most of his time was spent bent over his desk, lost in some statement or other. He certainly hadn’t hung out with someone one-on-one like this.
He really regretted leaving his cane back at the Institute.
“Do you… mind if we sit down for a minute?” he asked, his voice very quiet. He almost immediately regretted it, bracing himself to simply push down the pain shooting up his legs and continue the walk home, but besides him, Daisy merely shrugged.
“Sure,” she said, leading him over to a nearby bench and sitting down.
“...thank you,” he said, after a moment.
They fell into a comfortable silence, as Jon focused on taking some deep breaths, waiting for the pain to subside and for his head to grow a little less fuzzy. He perhaps should have had another glass of water or two before leaving the bar, but- well, too late for that now. He’d deal with the consequences later.
“Are… you alright?” Daisy asked, after a minute so.
Jon slowly nodded. “Y-Yeah. Just… needed a moment.” He sucked in another sharp breath, before standing up again, trying to ignore how he stumbled getting up to his feet. “We can keep going.”
Silently, Daisy grabbed hold of his sleeve, and pulled him back down. He didn’t fight against her - once again, she clearly knew what was right for him.
“What’s wrong, Jon?” she asked, her voice a little harsher.
Jon didn’t answer immediately, a solemn expression growing across his face. Slowly, carefully, Daisy shuffled closer to him, offering out her arm. That, at least, made him smile, if only a little. He slotted himself in against her side, allowing him to relax against her.
“I’m fine, really,” he said again, a little quieter, though with more… genuinity. “Just, um… overexerted myself, I guess.”
“I… did notice you left your cane,” Daisy commented.
“...yeah.” Jon sighed. “I don’t like having to use it, I guess. And- And since I spend so much time at the Institute, I… forget, sometimes. Never had to use one before- before the Prentiss attack. And even after that I did- well, I have a habit of neglecting my needs. Surprise, surprise.”
Daisy huffed in what could loosely be described as a laugh. “Is that another thing I have to keep an eye on you for?”
“No, no, I- Usually I’m fine, honestly.” He gave her a small, what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Just had a long night, I suppose. And…” He sighed, looked away again. “Been away from the Institute too long, I guess.”
Daisy narrowed her eyes. “It’s been, like, seven hours-”
“I feel… weaker spending any amount of time away from the Institute, these days,” Jon confessed. “Honestly, unless I’m actively reading or listening to a statement, I- Well, mostly I’ve been feeling like complete shit.”
Again, Daisy gave a small chuckle. For some reason, that… almost felt relieving, to Jon. It was better than her judging him, at least. Yelling at him that he needed to get a grip of himself. “Sorry,” she said, still, after a moment. “I… imagine that’s… very hard, for you.”
Jon just shrugged. “It’s who I am now, I suppose. Can’t really help it.”
Daisy let out a single note hum in consideration. “I… get it, I suppose,” she said. “As much as I’ve tried to distance myself, I do still… feel the pull of the Hunt, every waking moment. It’s a lot, sometimes.”
Jon swallowed. “Do you… still feel those… urges, then?” he asked.
Daisy shrugged. “It’s not as strong as before,” she answered, “but yeah, I guess. It’s a part of me. For better or for worse.”
“How do you resist it?”
Daisy considered that question for a moment, taking a while to figure out the right words to string together. “I don’t… like the feeling, not really,” she said. “I used to. I loved the feeling of the Chase. The adrenaline, the excitement. But I…” She sighed. “It’s the end, I guess, that always really got to me. For years I felt… so much guilt, at all the lives that I’ve claimed. I tried to- to rationalise it by telling myself that those people were monsters. That there was no reason to grieve for them. But-” She paused again, gaze flicking to Jon, before it flicked away again, up towards the sky. “But that’s not true, is it? They were all just people who were forced to walk the wrong path. People like me.”
“How did it feel?” Jon asked. “When, um- when it was me that you, uh…”
Daisy shot him a glare. “You better not be trying to Archivist me right now.”
“I’m not!” Jon defended, eyes wide. “I’m- I’m not asking for a statement, I swear.”
“Then what’s with all the prying questions?”
“I just- I just want to know,” Jon said. “I’m… curious. When you kidnapped me, how did you feel?”
Daisy let out a heavy sigh, slumping against the back of the bench. “I mean. I… didn’t, I suppose.”
Jon frowned. “In what sense?”
She shrugged. “I was pretty consumed in the Hunt. When it gets like that, that’s all there is. The desire to chase, to catch, to kill.” She paused for a moment. “I felt bad, afterwards. Seeing how… scared, you’d clearly been. Or- well, at first I’d felt angry, but the longer I’ve had time to think about it, I’ve realised that actually finding you had been more than enough to satisfy the Hunt, I think. Trying to kill you… well, I guess I got a little carried away, there. You didn’t deserve to die.” Another pause. “I’m sorry.”
Jon nodded. “I… I know.” It was nice, hearing that from her. Finally understanding why she had done that to him. “I don’t forgive you, though.”
Daisy sucked in a sharp breath. “Yeah,” she said. “I know.”
She left it at that. Jon didn’t feel the need to comment any more, either, now that his own questions had been answered.
Even if he didn’t forgive her, he was still glad to have her in his life, now. Daisy, thankfully, seemed to understand that.
“You feeling better, yet?”
Jon blinked. “Oh, um.” The pain in his legs hadn’t quite disappeared, but he did feel… a little stronger. His eyes widened. “Sorry, I- I didn’t realise I’d-”
“It’s alright,” Daisy assured him. “If I wasn’t okay with you subconsciously feeding off of me, I wouldn’t have said anything. Besides-” She gave a short, sharp laugh. “-probably deserve it, considering the subject was of a time I fed off of you.”
“R-Right. Still, I-”
“Really, Jon, it’s fine.” She stood up, offering out a hand. “Let’s just… get you home, yeah?”
Without really thinking, Jon took it, allowing Daisy to loop an arm around his back and helping him continue to stumble along the pavement. “Sure. I… Thank you.”
Daisy smiled. “It’s no problem. We should do this more often.”
“Yes.” Jon smiled. “I- I think we should.”