§𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐬

04.

§tain | chapter four ~  " A Fucking Psycho" 

30 minutes earlier 

Dawn and Hank's Apartment 

Washington D. C. 

    On the love seat in the TV room of Hank and Dawn's Apartment, sat Rachel Roth. bingeing another episode of Game of Thrones. Too hooked by the most enamoring scene yet to see Hank resting in his armchair nursing his fifth beer of the night and attempting to delineate whatever the hell he was watching. Or Dick and Dawn in the kitchen - deep in a discussion relating to grown-up issues - enough to put even the smallest child asleep, or the remote which by somehow got under her leg. She moved, the hour spent in one position, at long last caught up to her and inadvertently changed the channel right when the scene got to its juiciest part.

"Damn it." she reviled at the news occupying the screen.

"What the hell." Hank slurred. "Turn it back. It was just getting good."

    Ignoring him, she reached for it, urgently searching, and sent it sliding across the room. The purple-haired teen fell onto her knees and snatched it up in her pale hands. Right as she would change back the channel, she held back observing a lady on screen. Fighting a man wearing a ski mask. "Wow." she said when the lady wrapped her legs around his neck and knocked him unconscious. "Whoever this chick is she sure as hell can kick ass."

   "Wait a minute.. She looks familiar." Hank sat up from his chair, eyes narrowing as the shoddy shot from a camera phone replayed again and again. He sipped his beer, gradually. Until acknowledgment occurred to him, and his eyes became wide as saucers. Hank spat. Showers of harsh liquor went every which way. "Oh, shit." he said. "Dick. Dawn. Come here." They hurried out from the kitchen to join them in the Tv room, at the direness in his tone.

    "What?" his girlfriend looked at him questioningly, however remained in a cautious position. Maybe it's code that they were within the presence of risk or something to that affect. At that point her eyes pursued where his finger pointed.

"... Youthful saint stops burglary at local Walmart." she read out loud. Alongside the news crawler looking over the screen. A slow breath drew out of her once she saw what it was. "Oh, my god. Is that..?" she trailed, the words just barely at the tip of her tongue. However, they were difficult to state.

   "Jade." Dick completed for her, recognition enlisting in him. Quiet settled over the gathering, similar to a blanket over a body. Rather than the warmth it gives, they're left cold and trembling at the transparency of the issue. Rachel's eyes flicked between the three grown-ups, having livened up in the wake of hearing that by which they perceived the lady on TV. "You know her?" she inquired. "Who is she?"

    "A slut." Dawn gritted through held teeth, her gaze, cold and filled with contempt, remained  on the circling picture.  "A fucking psycho." Hank included coolly and chugged the rest of his beer.  Although the responses stipulated their unadulterated wrath towards the mystery lady on the nightly news, Dick saw the confounded look on the teen's face. He went to her, yet too gradually for it to be typical, and constrained a grin.

    "She's an old companion." he replied, his voice trails, similar to his words were reluctant to take off. To sound the least persuading. Pity appeared in his eyes, the darker excessively gleaming.

     Dawn side-eyed him. "Try not to gloss over this, Dick. Rachel's not three-fucking years-old." Truth be told, over the most recent couple of days she encountered many things somebody her age ought to never need to, notwithstanding her inner dealings, the purple-haired-teen handled it better than expected. They could expect her expectation that the man beside her would help her.