(Beginning of Part 2)
Another eventual hour of small talk, Dru putting up with his ignorance when it comes to social interaction, and Stitches giving her a cloak for the chill, they wind up at another door of conversation, this one rather out of the blue. Stitches had been wondering this for himself, so his unfiltered brain asks Dru for insight.
"What do you dream of, Dru?"
"As I sleep? Or for my life?" She asks in response.
"Both." Is of course what he would say, curious like some kinda dim witted cat.
She shakes her head with a light-hearted smile. "You don't make things easy do you." She laughs lightly, but exhales gently, "I dream of living a normal life, not in hiding, nor looking over my shoulder. To be able to be as trusting as most." She pauses.
Stitches nods in understanding, and pushes for the other bit, "And your dreams?"
She shrugs lightly against the ground. "Mostly of those I have hurt." She looks at the sky as she speaks in a neutral tone.
They speak briefly of this. Dru doubts her spirit in it's capacity for goodness. Stitches of course reassures her that if her deeds (self defense, or otherwise) haunt her, then she is still more than decent. She attempted a counter by mentioning someone trustworthy that she did not trust, not mentioning a name. At this point, Stitches had sat up and most of his focus is on her, as apposed to the constant smiling woman within the celestial night heavens.
Stitches shrugs, "Then truly could you blame yourself? Pain and mistrust is not fickle..." His eyes look up to the Stars, "I think I... Might have killed someone once." Stitches thoughts race as soon as the words leave his mouth, though for the life of him he cannot figure out why. Is this what it feels like? The feeling of being afraid what you say may lose you a friend?
Dru sits up and looks at him in slight concern, "You? Impossible. Not unless they deserved it."
Stitches just nods and admits, "I have... Dreams too."
"But...who?" She asks him.
Stitches shrugs, "I don't know, but the way it happens in my dreams, if that is how memory works...well, I'm glad I don't remember who I am." He frowns then, "I was smiling with my hands around someone's neck, and everything else was dark like I was in a tunnel and the only thing I could see was that neck. It was just cold...and lonely." His grimace deepens as he thinks of this. His mind begins to slowly process, so much so that his chest aches from within and he can feel his limbs weaken gently. His thoughts speak to him: 'What sickness is this? This isn't what I want. What does it mean to feel this? Feel this?'
Dru studies his face for a brief moment before calmly and slowly reaching over and embracing him gently. "That isn't who you are," she says softly, and reassuringly.
Stitches cheeks flush a rose color, and the bridge of his nose as well, but his expression remains a neutral-confused for a moment. However, soon enough he smiles and wraps one arm around her to hold her in the embrace, "Yeah...I like this better. Friends, long talks at night, someone to talk to. Even in the cold it feels...warm." He says with a peaceful smile. The horrid feeling in his gut fades with the tunnel vision adn the image of his own hands around someone's neck. This feeling of trust and respect for how he is and who he is gives him life it seems. Friendship is a powerful tool to someone who has never had experienced its true light, and within moments, he is nearly able to feel his own heartbeat.
(End of Part 2, Part 3 picks right up)
