"You're such a joy to be around."-
"Well, you're a pain in the arse."
Jordyn had no idea that befriending the lovely idiot who broke her locker would turn her life upside down. But here she was, amidst bionics, secrets and life-threatening dangers...
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Jordyn wasn't one to hold grudges. She wanted to, but she couldn't. So when she said she needed some time for herself, it only really lasted a day.
At the start of the day, she successfully avoided looking at her phone. Yet this was more due to the fact that she couldn't rather than wouldn't. The signal inside the hospital was lousy at best.
After the victory over Krane, Jordyn had a short altercation with Adam and had chosen to go home against Bree's pleas to stay. Although Adam's deep and true compassion was one of many things she loved about him, it occasionally irked her. At a time when emotions were already running high, he didn't respect her need for space.
His desperate and prevalent attempts at reassurance were irritating. His hugs and touches were irritating. His presence was irritating.
While he could help her calm down most of the time, he couldn't make her forget, couldn't help her process the things she's seen and done.
He didn't understand.
May it not be for a lack of trying. He didn't understand because it was normal to him. Saving the world meant sacrifices, he knew. And she had thought she knew.
Not even Leo could understand.
In her mind, the fresh memories of the evening were on constant repeat. The blood, the fights, the mindless kids. Her heart broke all over again remembering the faces of everyone they had fought.
Contrary to the Davenport's she couldn't bring it over herself to call them soldiers; they weren't. They were kids. Abused and mistreated by Krane for his own selfish megalomania. No idea of the real world around them. Simple, disposable tools.
She regretted being a part of the fight. She was disgusted by the sheer cruelness and coldness displayed on the field, from both sides. And while she knew the Davenports were doing it for a greater cause, it doesn't change how hardened they went about it all. No guilt, no empathy, no feelings.
Joe couldn't do that. She couldn't separate her actions from her feelings. She felt bad, evil, filthy. Even after countless hot, cleansing showers, her conscience was as dirty as before.
Although Joe wasn't religious, that night she sent prayers to all the kids to have the first good night's sleep in a long time, wherever they may be. Her own sleep was rough, riddled with many nightmares and worries.
First thing in the morning – or rather 4 am – was to follow her father to work. He wasn't happy seeing her in the rugged state and dejected demeanor. His displeasure got worse as he learned of the reason. His daughter, his baby involved in a fight like this...
Still, he didn't scold her or pressure her to talk. If she had something to say she would say it in her own time. He didn't do anything but let her have the space she needed. Otherwise, he might have not been informed of Donald's tragic accident the night before.
