milliways_bar | (no subject)

Here's someone who hasn't been seen in the bar for a while. Or, well, at least when he wasn't bloodied and semi-conscious.

Anyway. Jack hobbles downstairs, limping heavily as he heads for the chairs by the fireplace. His right arm is still in a sling, his knee still rigid, though the brusing around his eye and the red welt left from the burn on his cheek have faded a fair bit. He still doesn't look as though he's slept much though, which would probably be because he hasn't.

The noise and bustle in the bar is a little jarring, a little uncomfortable. After so many months living in a quiet, secluded area, he's not used to being around so many people at once. But it's better than sitting in his room for another day, staring at the TV or the walls.

He settles into a chair, propping his left leg on an ottoman. Pulling a book from inside his sling, he settles in to read, though not averse to companionship at the moment. Just don't be surprised if he's a little twitchy.

[ooc: Not sure how late I'll be on, and ~~access is likely to be a little interrupted crap, have to run for a minute--back in a bit~~, but I'm perfectly willing to slowtime--just bear in mind that slowtimes from tonight won't be tagged until after 6 pm tomorrow. Work is kicking my ass again. And I'm back!]

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Angela grins. "I'm very glad I came here. It's helped a lot. And not just with my social life." She leans her head upon his.

"Having you here has helped me a lot, too, sweetheart," he says, softly.

"Good." She sighs. "I love you, Grampa."

It's good to say. As often as possible.

"I love you too, Angie. Have you been working on any poetry lately?"

"Yeah. Some. I find it's easier to write when I'm downstairs, looking out that window."

It's beautiful and dreadful at the same time.

"That's a little surprising; most people jsut end up staring at it blankly."

"Oh, I do stare at it blankly. But that's part of what a writer does. Stare at stuff till we get an idea."

"Maybe that's the step I was missing in school, then."

"Not so much with the writing, Grampa?" she says with a laugh.

He smiles. "Only essays and reports, and I hated doing it. Never really tried much of anything else."

"If I could do all essays and nothing else, I'd be on the honor roll every semester."

"I thought that's what high school was. Or what it was when I was there, at least, back in the Stone Age."

Angela laughs. "Some of it is. But most of it is tests. I don't do well on tests."

"Why not? What is it that you find difficult about them?" he asks, tilting his head slightly to one side.

"I get tense. And sometimes stuff happens and I'm thinking about that, and not about what's supposed to be on the test."

"Maybe you need to look into things that you can do to relax before a test?" he says, thoughtfully.

"Yeah, probably. Might need to eliminate some stress in my life."

For instance, unsupervised visits with her mother might be a good place to start making cuts.

"Well that might be a good thing in general. Like what?"

"Talking to mom and dad. Seeing if we can't end unsupervised visits with my mother."

Each visit destroys her, and it's definitely not good.

"If you want to do it, then that's probably a good start. And I don't think your Mom and Dad will insist otherwise if you tell them why."

Personally, he thinks it's probably the best thing she could do.

Angela nods. "Yeah. I feel bad, though. Feel like I'm hurting people just by being alive sometimes."

"Sweetheart, you're not hurting the people who really care about you. And if you're hurting Stephanie by doing this then she shouldn't have made the choices she did," he says, a little sternly.

Stephanie should rue the day she ever messed with a member of the Bauer family.

Angie tends to blame herself for most things. But, "I know. It just feels that way sometimes. In my head, I know exactly what you are saying."

In her heart, she tells herself otherwise.

"But it doesn't feel that way to the reast of you? Yeah, I know how that feels, sweetheart," he says, rubbing her back a little. "Guess we just have to keep saying it."

I'll say it till it comes true.

Angela leans on him again, and sighs, nodding.