She's not made for gentle, but like recognizes like; neither was he. Whatever made him (the cult?) wanted an instrument, not a person. What made her wanted a blank space, but it got a weapon instead. Still, she tries, setting a wet hand on his wet shoulder.
The touch surprises him. He doesn't recoil from it, though; just looks up, eyebrows lifted. Smiles at her in the mirror, almost regretful. He wishes he could offer her like-for-like, I know how it feels, but he can't.
"No," he says honestly, shrugging. "Dunno know why. Been plenty of times I should have been. Could have been."
She frowns sourly, retracts her hand, refusing to be seen as weak. He's not, actually, Luke. He didn't get it. That's not his fault, realistically, but some part of her blames him for it.
She keeps it to herself, because nobody the fuck else cares.
"'Should have'? There rules for this shit?" What made her weak and him strong?
"Not really. Should have in that I go near demons and I antagonise them, and when they're pissed off they try to cause havoc. But I got plenty of lessons in how to fight 'em off." His mouth twists, a little savagely. Those lessons weren't kind.
He dries off his hands, and he says, "You didn't do anything wrong." Looks up, and at her. Eyebrows raised. "You shook it off. That's it. You did that. Now. How's your head doing?"
She groans dramatically, and doing it under her own power is sort of a thrill. "Did they teach you to only speak in vague in that creepy little secret society you got put in?"
Fuck how she feels. She'll bother with that later. Now that the 'ordeal' is over, she wants answers, concrete ones. Faith is beautiful and real, but it only goes so far; she's learned that the hard way, and she just did again. No superhero bullshit.
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"Were you ever...?"
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"No," he says honestly, shrugging. "Dunno know why. Been plenty of times I should have been. Could have been."
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She keeps it to herself, because nobody the fuck else cares.
"'Should have'? There rules for this shit?" What made her weak and him strong?
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He dries off his hands, and he says, "You didn't do anything wrong." Looks up, and at her. Eyebrows raised. "You shook it off. That's it. You did that. Now. How's your head doing?"
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Fuck how she feels. She'll bother with that later. Now that the 'ordeal' is over, she wants answers, concrete ones. Faith is beautiful and real, but it only goes so far; she's learned that the hard way, and she just did again. No superhero bullshit.