We Get Along for the Most Part (John Blake)

[DYLAN CARRERO]

Ever since the other night, when Dylan had been partnered with the insufferable Hadley Jones, she had point blank refused to go anywhere near him and so had been partnered with different people every day... Until the day that Dylan walked into the police station rather happily and been told that Hadley was her partner. Unimpressed with the whole situation, Dylan had stolen his seat at his desk and was ignoring him as he asked her to move so that he could do some paperwork while they weren't out and about. She had her iPod out and was listening to it with her feet on his desk. No one else seemed to be paying attention, and if they were then they weren't trying to get her attention from what she knew. As he paced behind her, Dylan began bopping her head to a rather cheerful tune while continuing to ignore him. The silent treatment was better than actually arguing with him and while it looked like she was sulking - which she totally was, by the way - it meant that there wouldn't be shouting and screaming... People should have been grateful, really.

"Will someone please move her?!"

Dylan took one headphone out and began spinning it with a grin while watching him as he sat on the edge of his desk. With a small nudge, she pushed him back off, her grin turning into a smug smile.

"Yes, please move me 'cause the big bad officer can't manage it." She smirked, laughed a little and put her headphone back in before glancing around. Jim wasn't around, from what she could see, so no worries! Granted he could come in at any minute but until that minute, Dylan would continue to have a fair bit of fun with dear old Hadley Jones. Her attention turned back to her iPod as she began a game of Solitaire on it while moving her feet in a more bopping movement to the music instead of her head. Hadley sighed next to the desk and moved to her side.

"Move, Carrero."

"Nope." She replied cheerfully and glanced at him as he shook his head. Was he annoyed? Well, he'd better be. "Think of this as a rebellion against having to do anything with you. Not that I don't like you, but..." She pulled a face and shrugged softly before smiling up at him and going back to her game of Solitaire. Hadley gave an annoyed noise and went back to pacing as he seemed to wait for someone else to come and move her despite the fact that he could probably move her fairly easily if he tried to. She didn't care, though, it was no issue to her if he decided to not try moving her. Why would she care? The seat was pretty comfy and they were both getting the same amount of work done. Absolutely nothing that bothered her at all. It seemed like a pretty good day, really...

[John Blake]

John was dead. Mentally. He hadn't been home in weeks. He had been in his office, doing paperwork out the ass. He had filed for a new partner. As of yet, he had not been awarded one. He laid his head down on his desk, the dark circles under his eyes were heavy, more than ever before. He had been out on patrol a few times, until he passed out behind the wheel, and then he just locked himself in his office, doing reports and filing paperwork. He sighed, his eyes drifting closed for a moment. He passed out, the hum of his computer monitor, the only thing making a sound within his office. He sighed as he drifted off.

The shout of annoyance from the next room over. He groaned as it woke him up. The smallest amount of sleep he had ever had. He slowly dragged himself out of his chair. He wiped everything off his face. He yawned and walked over. He was nearly a walking skeleton. His uniform was billowy, not fitting his chest as it once had. He winced as he walked out of his office, his hands trembling very faintly. He walked into the other room. "Can you please keep it down...?" He asked, his eyes searching. How long had he been locked in his office. He didn't recognize the woman with the fiery hair. If it weren't for his exhaustion, he might have found her extremely attractive.

[DYLAN CARRERO]

As a door opened, Dylan looked up with a panicked expression. Wait, whose office was that? Dylan didn't have a clue but when someone - a man with ears - came out of the office, she swung her feet from the desk and sat up properly before hearing the only think he said. Keep it down?! This was a rebellion! A childish, immature rebellion but a rebellion all the same! Dylan pulled her headphones out and paused her iPod before shifting to get comfy in the chair again. Maybe she should put her feet back on the desk...

"She's not moving."

"And you whine like a child but no one's complaining about that, are we?" She asked Hadley with raised eyebrows before looking at the man. Wait, she was sure she'd heard his name before. Blake? Blake sounded right. "Sorry Officer Blake." Wasn't Amelia's name Blake? She decided against asking and gave a small nod of greeting as Hadley looked at her as though unable to believe what she'd just said. "It's just a rebellion, but we'll try to keep quiet." That may have been sarcasm, though Dylan wasn't a hundred percent sure.

Her gaze passed over him as she turned her iPod off and wound the headphones around it. He looked terrible! Not as in unattractive, because he was probably attractive to someone just not Dylan, but as in he looked like he'd been through Hell.

"You alright, Officer?" She asked, putting her feet back on Officer Jones' desk casually and watching Blake. Those damn ears were distracting her so badly. She'd always been easily distracted by certain things and large features/ears were one of those things. She almost wanted to watch Dumbo now. Wait, no she didn't. The racism in that film was terrible and she couldn't put up with that just to see an elephant with huge ears. There were a number of things that she could totally overlook or ignore - and one of those was Hadley Jones who was currently looking rather annoyed next to her - but prejudice in films? No chance. Absolutely no chance.

[John Blake]

John looked at her. He frowned deeper. It looked so out of place with all the smile lines that creased his face. He hadn't smiled in over a month. He didn't feel like he would ever smile again. What had he to smile to? Alyss hadn't come back since she caught him with his gun muzzle in his mouth. William hadn't spoken to him in a long time. Amelia....Just the thought of her made him want to break down and cry. He had been doing that a lot recently. His eyes were always a little puffy, he never went more than an hour without at least one tear. What made it worse - Amelia never seemed to cry when all John himself could do was weep.

John crossed his arms over his chest. It looked awkward, considering that his chest used to be much more broad. "I haven't slept in over a month...I don't care what you do, but please... Keep it down..." He said, his voice tired, making him seen so much older than he actually was. He hadn't slept in over a month. There had been moments when he had just collapsed as he passed out, but that was not sleep. That would never be sleep. He groaned in pain, losing his balance, having to put a hand on the wall to stay on his feet.

He looked at her, a flash of pain in his eyes. "I haven't been okay in so long I forgot what it feels like." He said simply. And it was true. He hadn't slept. He had hardly eaten, only eating enough to keep himself going enough to work. He had severed himself from the world socially. He had stabbed himself a few times. Had a gun in his mouth. A gun at his chest. A gun to his head. He had stood on a bridge, looking down. He had stood on the tops of buildings as Robin and considered jumping. He had stood on highways and thought of running out in front of cars, but to live for a moment as he would die. He looked at her, he did not want sympathy. He didn't want anything. He didn't want anything but the end to his pain. The only way he saw that was to rip his own heart out and die. That would hurt less than what he was feeling now.

[DYLAN CARRERO]

Dylan have a small salute at the request for them to keep it down with a hint of a smile on her features, curving her lips gently. He was at work, though... You don't sleep at work unless you're really good at hiding it. Oh, maybe he was really good at hiding it! Wow, she'd have to get him to teach her how to get away with sleeping at work. No! Bad Dylan. He probably wouldn't teach her anyway... She gave a small nod, though, and looked at Hadley with an attempt at a serious expression.

"Keep it down, Jones." She repeated childishly before grinning and stretching out a little in his seat, slumping slightly to get comfy. Hadley appeared to be about to say something when Dylan asked the other officer how he was. She couldn't deny a hint of sympathy spread through her at the answer and it showed on her face. That was really depressing and no one deserved to feel like that... She looked somewhat uncertain for a second before sitting up and leaning on Hadley's desk, watching the officer the entire time as her expression went from sympathetic to kind, her hands joining in front of her loosely as she leaned on the desk while still sitting.

"Sorry." She said out of instinct before rolling her eyes at herself and shaking her head. "That probably don't help... If you need someone to talk to, though, I'm open to it." She offered kindly, still looking at him before a hint of a smile perched on her features as she momentarily noticed that everyone else seemed to have shut up. Good, they should have shut up. Things were serious and Dylan highly doubted that they had the ability to understand that. Maybe it was just Dylan's dislike of Hadley that was making her think that... It was possible if not probable.

She knew she shouldn't have thought like that, but certain people in your life make an impact on what you think of mostly male teams and her cousin hadn't been the biggest fan of the male sex. Granted, Dylan didn't mind them too much, but she still found herself thinking like her cousin probably did... At least she liked her cousin, though. Would be awkward if she didn't...

[John Blake]

John watched the antics, they hurt just as much as anything. He leaned on the door, hardly able to stand. He couldn't do it. So, he leaned as heavily as he dared on the door. "Well....Please..." He muttered, rubbing a hand over his face - as if that would take away how tired he was. Of course it didn't. Why would it? It had no reason to. So of course, it didn't. This was how redundant his mind had become. It was sad, especially for John, a man whom had once had a clear mind, someone whom could think of a way out in thirty seconds flat. Not anymore. He couldn't even figure out how to drag himself out of his pool of depression.

He looked at her. He had separated himself socially, he wasn't even sure how to accept or deny her help. He looked at her, pain etched on his face for a moment. Then he nodded. "I don't know if any help will help me." He said quietly. He wiped his face again, trying to scrub off all the sorrow, but again - it didn't work. And again, it begged the question of why would it? It shouldn't. He leaned back on the wall again, trying not to pass out as the lights began to swim. He was trying not to fall over, and trying not to pass out in front of her. As if that mattered anymore. His job was all he had now. If he lost that, he would have nothing...

[DYLAN CARRERO]

Dylan eyed him as he muttered something. She couldn't hear it properly, but was slightly worried about how heavily he was leaning on the door. That wasn't normal for a healthy person, was it? That was, a healthy person who didn't seem particularly bored. She leaned on doors all the time if she was near one and bored but didn't want to get a seat. He didn't seem bored, though. Her gaze remained on him, of course, while she offered her listening abilities. His answer made her shake her head before she stood. Wouldn't know until they tried, now would they?

"Come on. Jones wants me gone and you look like you need coffee. Thank God there's a Starbucks on every corner." She said while practically marching towards him. Despite her small stature, it was obvious that she was determined. "And we don't know how much or how little help will actually help until you try, right?" She asked, looking at him for his answer. She was a little interested in his answer, but whatever he said wouldn't make her go away. Dylan didn't do that. Someone needed a friend? She was going to be that friend until the day they didn't want her around anymore and then they could be acquaintances. It was easy enough, really.

"Besides, I want to get Hadley Jones' whining out of my head." She glanced over her shoulder at the officer she was talking about, who had stolen the seat back as soon as Dylan had gotten up. "And bleach might not do it." She added, loud enough that Hadley would hear before smiling at John. It was probably still a pretty nice day outside and there wasn't really a reason for Dylan to be unhappy. She had a good life, the day was going pretty well considering how it could be going, and she was probably going to get away from Hadley fucking Jones! She could have sung if she didn't think it would give Officer Blake a headache... And also if she knew a song that fit the situation. That would have been useful too...

[John Blake]

John looked at her, still leaning on the wall. He honestly didn't want to be social. His heart was too shriveled. He didn't want it. He didn't think he needed it. What he thought he needed was to just go home...But he had no home...He wouldn't go live with Amelia. No. He wouldn't go live with Alyss. He didn't want to be a bother to Bruce and Hailey. He had no where to go. He had literally been living at work. He watched her come near him. He didn't want her help, but he couldn't remember how to refuse.

John sighed, leaning against the wall still. He didn't want to risk standing as he felt as though he would fall over. He wasn't too far off. "Coffee?" He asked, somewhat shocked if she thought that coffee would be enough to help him. He couldn't even remember what it tasted like, the thick black liquid he would drink every morning. He couldn't remember at all. He wasn't sure he wanted to. Taste and smell were major triggers to memories. All he wanted to do was forget. Forget everything. Just to have his mind wiped so he wouldn't even remember his own name. He wanted to forget. He wanted it all gone...End his suffering.

He looked at her, a little more closely as she came closer. He still didn't trust himself to stand without the walls support. "Bleach?" He asked, his mind not processing through it's cloud of sorrow. The pain he felt was also clouding his mind. His body had literally begun to eat itself to keep itself running. His hands shook still as he looked at her. Did she know how he didn't even think he could have made it back to his office - even if he had wanted to. He was tired of being confined in his office, but it was the only place he had left to go. He didn't know what to. Honestly, he had his gun in his desk...Just in case it became too much....

[DYLAN CARRERO]

At the one worded question of 'coffee?', Dylan nodded slowly. She couldn't tell if he was incredulous or confused, but she was going to act like it was the latter. She didn't know how to deal with the former, to be honest. How did you deal with someone who didn't believe something at that moment in time, anyway? Tell them it's very much real? Pinch them? Maybe not pinching. Dylan imagined him squeaking like a mouse if she tried it and she didn't particularly want to witness a police officer - of all people - squeaking. That would just be awkward.

"Yes." She begun somewhat slowly. "That brown-ish liquid. Tastes a little bit like bitter shit." She continued before thinking for a moment. "Well... To me, it does." She shrugged casually. "Has caffeine in and generally gives energy. Tea has more caffeine than coffee, though. I swear to God, Gotham has a human Google." She rambled a little before managing to reign it in a little and smiled softly. "And if nothing else then it will give you fresh air because I'm sorry but this place does not have fresh air at all... Not even if you open a window." She said bluntly, looking a little bit disgusted by the idea of the air in the station. Hell, if he didn't agree to go with her then she'd go it alone... Especially now that she'd started thinking about the air...

After the small half-joke about not even bleach managing to get Hadley's whining from her head, Dylan nodded at the second one-worded question.

"It was a joke." She said quite quietly and rather quickly, waving a hand dismissively. "English humour. Don't ask." The English woman explained simply and smiled again. She literally had no idea what to say now, though. Her entire thought process had frozen because usually humour went over well with anyone and everyone and now Dylan was trying to talk to someone who didn't actually seem to be listening. She resisted the urge to wave a hand in front of his face to see if he'd notice and instead put her hands in her pockets before rocking on the balls of her feet. "Seriously, though, come with? You can use me as a walking stick if you want. I'm about the right height..." Her humour probably wouldn't get them anywhere but she couldn't help herself. She practically prided herself on being just the right height to be used as a leaning post. Well, actually she prided herself on being just the right height that people would underestimate her before getting their arse handed to them but being a leaning post was useful too...