[fic] lost girl; kenzi/dyson; things are tough all over when the thunderstorms start ; pg13
title; rating: things are tough all over when the thunderstorms start; pg13
fandom, pairing; count: lost girl, dyson/kenzi; 673
notes: for gigglemonster
They wait one week before leaving town without Bo.
"We're going," Dyson's voice is hoarse and one sleeve of his jacket is shredded, blood dripping down his wrist and fingers and onto the floor.
Kenzi wordlessly grabs her things from the back room of the Dal where she's been holed up for three days and meets Dyson out by the car.
"This means it's over?" She asks. "This means that Bo..." she doesn't finish, and her voice cracks.
Dyson doesn't answer, and instead presses the gas pedal all the way down, the engine drowning out the sound.
They meet Hale and Trick and a few others that Kenzi doesn't recognize after a ten hour drive north.
She sits in the kitchen of the old farm house, listening to them all argue in the living room about what to do next.
Dyson breaks the news about Bo.
Kenzi's tea goes cold, and in the morning it's just the four of them.
In those first six months, she only sees Dyson every few days, if that. Sometimes even Hale disappears for days on end.
Trick is there.
He's always there.
"This is neutral territory," he tells her, feeds her full of hot food and stinging whiskey. "There are plans to be made. The borders have to be protected."
"I get it, Trick," she tells him. "I do."
He smiles at her. "You're not yourself, Kenz."
"No," she admits, taking another drink. "But none of us are anymore."
Sometimes she asks Hale to sing her to sleep.
"Sing me a siren's song," she'll command, half-lidded and fidgety. "I can never sleep anymore."
She never does this when Dyson's around.
The sound of a wolf's paws pacing the hardwood floors outside of her bedroom are her only lullaby on those nights.
She's never alone. Someone always stays with her. Even when Trick finally ventures outside of their little haven, someone else stays.
Kenzi never asks what makes her so special.
The answer is perfectly clear.
"We never talk about her, you know?" Kenzi says on a night when they're alone.
Dyson gives her a look, and for a half a second she's reminded of the old days, but then it fades away into something more grave. "What would you like me to say?"
"I don't know," she shrugs, her eyes stinging at the corners with the coming tears. "That you miss her. That you think she could still be alive. That you're only keeping me around because she would want you to. Stuff like that."
Dyson takes her face in his hands. "Kenz, you know that's not true."
Kenzi nods. "I know," she says. "I know."
"Don't you ever think that." Dyson pulls her to his chest, enveloping her almost completely. "Ever."
He doesn't pace outside of her room that night, like a dog on watch. Instead he brings her to his bed and lets her curl next to him, her hand over his chest, his heart pumping loudly in his ears.
When she kisses him, he lets her, and he kisses her back.
"Promise me something," she whispers.
"Anything," he tells her, before she even has a chance to say it.
Neither Hale or Trick, who each arrived home sometime in the night, say anything when the two of them exit his room together in the morning.
"Mmm, bacon," Kenzi leans across the counter top and reaches for Trick's frying pan.
He swats at her with his spatula. "Hands off," he tells her. "It's not finished yet."
Kenzi grumbles sticks her tongue out at him.
Hale laughs, and slides a cup of coffee over to Dyson, who regards the scene with an amused look.
"Anything new?" he asks after a minute.
Trick steals a glance at Kenzi who is now stretching to reach the cereal in the cabinet above her. "Nothing on my end," he says. "Hale?"
"Nope," Hale clucks, his eyes falling on Kenzi too. "Everything's fine."
Dyson pretends not to notice the exchange. "Perfect," he says. "Sounds perfect."