[ be careful. it doesn't feel like that is what he means to say, and somewhere in the back of her head, she hears the word stay. she doesn't know if it's meant for her to ask of him, or if she's hoping he'll ask it of her, but she hovers in the feeling of it. lingers, somewhere, in that unsaid tension.
then logan leaves, and karen does too.
it's not easy, those next couple of weeks. she follows a wake of chaos, of her friends getting attacked, of shops being broken through, ransacked. it feels a lot like chaos is its only goal, though she runs into it enough times mid-attack that she thinks it might be more than that. logan helps her often during those weeks, finds a scent, tips her off, and it cycles back around again. a couple of times she manages to get the mannequin back into her room, tied up, locked away, only for it to escape a couple of days later.
( some part of her supposes, in a distant, disturbing kind of way, it feels validating. that, maybe, if she were put in the same situation, she'd be just as likely to get free. )
and then, the solution comes. it is not pretty, it is not easy, but part of karen expected as much. the moment she recognized that she couldn't do anything to it, she knew this would be tough, probably painful, maybe even haunting. and she was right (with these things, she often is).
by the time she texts logan that it's over, that the mannequin won't be an issue any longer, the ashes it left behind have been cold for a couple of hours. karen's needed the time to convince herself that her skin isn't boiled, that there are no lingering burns, no scars. still, she feels like it's happening to her, even after the embers have cooled.
logan responds you home? and karen says yeah - amos having left right about the time she texted logan in the first place, letting the door to her still somewhat mangled motel room close behind him. part of her knows that logan will stop by, though she's not exactly sure when. another part of her tells her that she's being ridiculous, that this has been happening all over the city and logan is probably out there helping everyone else, too.
still, she can't help the way she waits, sitting on the edge of her bed, head in her hands. she tries to convince herself to stop shaking, tries to settle how her heart is still fluttering, still panicked.
then come two gentle taps at the door.
karen stands- or rather, she jumps up, a little startled by the noise, and wipes at her face as she heads to the door. it's one deadbolt and locked doorknob later that she has the door open and logan is standing there, filling the doorway.
her smile is shaky, and even if she wanted to, she couldn't hide the relief in her face at seeing him. which is... god. this is bad. she knows this is bad. but she doesn't have it in herself to convince herself otherwise. ]
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then logan leaves, and karen does too.
it's not easy, those next couple of weeks. she follows a wake of chaos, of her friends getting attacked, of shops being broken through, ransacked. it feels a lot like chaos is its only goal, though she runs into it enough times mid-attack that she thinks it might be more than that. logan helps her often during those weeks, finds a scent, tips her off, and it cycles back around again. a couple of times she manages to get the mannequin back into her room, tied up, locked away, only for it to escape a couple of days later.
( some part of her supposes, in a distant, disturbing kind of way, it feels validating. that, maybe, if she were put in the same situation, she'd be just as likely to get free. )
and then, the solution comes. it is not pretty, it is not easy, but part of karen expected as much. the moment she recognized that she couldn't do anything to it, she knew this would be tough, probably painful, maybe even haunting. and she was right (with these things, she often is).
by the time she texts logan that it's over, that the mannequin won't be an issue any longer, the ashes it left behind have been cold for a couple of hours. karen's needed the time to convince herself that her skin isn't boiled, that there are no lingering burns, no scars. still, she feels like it's happening to her, even after the embers have cooled.
logan responds you home? and karen says yeah - amos having left right about the time she texted logan in the first place, letting the door to her still somewhat mangled motel room close behind him. part of her knows that logan will stop by, though she's not exactly sure when. another part of her tells her that she's being ridiculous, that this has been happening all over the city and logan is probably out there helping everyone else, too.
still, she can't help the way she waits, sitting on the edge of her bed, head in her hands. she tries to convince herself to stop shaking, tries to settle how her heart is still fluttering, still panicked.
then come two gentle taps at the door.
karen stands- or rather, she jumps up, a little startled by the noise, and wipes at her face as she heads to the door. it's one deadbolt and locked doorknob later that she has the door open and logan is standing there, filling the doorway.
her smile is shaky, and even if she wanted to, she couldn't hide the relief in her face at seeing him. which is... god. this is bad. she knows this is bad. but she doesn't have it in herself to convince herself otherwise. ]
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