Central Park | Early Tuesday Afternoon

[defenderofdesmoines]

Annie had...not been as communicative with her Fandom friends as she had promised to be when she left the island.

Every time she tried to text someone, or send something more meaningful than an emoji, she got stuck behind the gigantic thing she couldn't...bring herself to talk about. At all. With anyone.

It was too embarrassing. She still wasn't sure it wasn't somehow something she had -- seemed like she wanted. Like she had brought it on herself. Annie knew it wasn't her fault, that she was only in control of her own actions and that The -- that that asshole had been in control of his.

But had she...sent signals? Had she done something to invite that?

And what would she have done if Queen Maeve hadn't come in? The fact that she didn't know the answer to that question, really, was the biggest thing standing in Annie's way of talking about this.

Annie had a meeting later, but she'd gotten out of the tower for the morning and taken herself for a long walk in Central Park, weighing her options. More than anything, she wanted to talk to Diego, but he was also the most difficult person to talk to about this. And it wasn't really something she felt like she could attempt over the phone, anyway. If she was going to tell him -- and she didn't know how that conversation would even begin, or how she'd get out of it without him running off to potentially get his ass kicked by the biggest indestructible jerk to ever crawl out of the ocean -- it needed to be in person.

But she had other friends, who were level-headed enough to hear something like this and not...immediately flip out. All right, she really had one friend who was level-headed to that degree, but one was enough.

Unfortunately, she got her voicemail. "Hey, it's Annie. Um, everything's fine," it was so not fine, "I could just -- um. Use some advice, when you're around. Something...happened at work. Okay. Talk to you soon, hope you're doing well." This was why she texted. Enjoy the most awkward voicemail ever, Rey.

Hughie	Hughie had had a tough few weeks. First, his girlfriend had died. No - okay, his girlfriend had been murdered. He couldn't move into acceptance of what had happened to Robin, like she had just...stopped being. No, A-Train had killed her, and - Anyway. If he kept going down that path, he was going to lose it again. And he was already on shaky ground after his visit from that...British guy. So he was just going to sit here, and eat his sandwich, and do his best to ignore the crying girl on the bench next to him. Okay, seriously, she was crying, right? He wasn't just hearing that? Like, he hadn't wanted to intrude, but that had seemed like a pretty...intense message, and now she was sniffling, and -- "Um, excuse me." Hughie couldn't believe he was doing this -- people in New York did not talk to each other. "Are you okay? Just seemed like kind of a -- tough call." And you know what, since she hesitated, he could just go ahead and add, "Sorry -- I don't mean to bother you." There. Done his part.
Annie	"No, no -- " This was actually the first time since Annie had arrived in New York that someone had...just talked to her? Like a...person? And not as an icon, or a symbol, or an object. Just as a person. Starlight was this whole thing here, but Annie was...invisible. Until right now. "Uh -- I'm fine." She managed a wobbly little smile over at the guy. "Just having a bad day."
Hughie	"Yeah, me too." Hughie was so not going to dump all over this random pretty blonde, but. "Is it -- is it like a work thing or like a...life thing?" She could tell him to fuck off and he'd just go back to his sandwich, okay.
Annie	"It's a work thing." It was way more a life thing, but...it had happened at work, and that's how she was kind of...framing it in her head. Something bad that had happened at work. But this guy -- the First Friendly Person in New York City -- had said he was having a bad day, too, and so Annie was compelled to add, "You?"
Hughie	"Uh, life thing." Like, a 'his whole fucking life falling apart at the seams' thing.
Annie	Annie nodded along as the guy awkwardly trailed off, and -- look, she hadn't been able to talk to anyone she knew. But maybe she could talk a little to a stranger. "You know how you have this...image of yourself?" she asked quietly, glancing over at him. "Like, I thought I was strong. You know? Like -- made of steel. A fighter." She shook her head, swallowing. "And then I was faced with this...horrible situation, with this asshole, and...." She closed her eyes, the bitterness creeping in at the edges of her voice. "And I didn't fight."
Hughie	Hughie had been listening, but he actually startled a little on asshole, because -- Jesus, what the hell had happened to this chick at work? But he watched her, staying quiet and letting her vent.
Annie	"And now I just feel sick." Annie's voice was soft, a little broken. "Partly because -- I don't know what I would have done, if things had gone different. But mostly because...it turns out I'm not who I thought I was." Because even the fact that she had hesitated -- that she hadn't blasted The Deep out a fucking window the second she'd turned around -- meant she wasn't sure who she saw in the mirror, anymore. She sighed out a long breath, looking over at the guy and -- oh, shit, that had really been a lot. "Oh -- oh, I'm so sorry. I -- I didn't mean to just...like, dump all of that on you."
Hughie	"No, no - " Hughie rushed to reassure her, "no, it's totally fine that you dumped." He carefully considered what she was saying, and how much she didn't seem to be saying. "Listen - do you like your job?"
Annie	"Oh." Annie's breath caught a little in her throat as she shook her head. "It's the only thing I've ever wanted." Even now. It was part of why that fuck deserved to be blasted into a wall, for taking even a single piece of this joy away from her.
Hughie	"And it's a good job?" Hughie checked, because it sure as hell didn't sound like a good job but he wasn't going to argue with this strange woman about what she wanted out of her career. "Like, you're not...selling kids smack?" Just look at her. That's probably what it was, Hughie bet.
Annie	"No," Annie agreed with a very small smile. "It's a great job. I could help a lot of people." Not that she had, yet, but...she could. She would.
Hughie	"Thing is, I, um." Okay, weird. He hadn't wanted to talk about Robin in weeks but with this random woman, on this random park bench, all of a sudden Hughie could. "I used to know this girl, and we used to go skating at Rockefeller, and I'd be on the side with this death grip on the rails. She would just charge headfirst into the middle of the rink. And she wasn't...good." His voice turned a little wistful. "She fell. Like -- a lot. But she was never scared. And she always used to say, 'Just 'cause you fall on your ass doesn't mean you have to stay there.'" He looked over at the blonde, shrugging lightly. "So, you fell on your ass, you know? That's not who you are." And that was a lot of talking from him, so he let that hang in the air for a moment before asking, "So who are you?"
Annie	Annie considered the guy's words carefully, drawing a deep breath. "I'm a fighter," she replied, with renewed confidence. "I'm gonna fight. I'm gonna take that son of a bitch's head clean off his body." And you know what, that wasn't even figurative. She was so much stronger than him.
Hughie	"Okay! That was - okay," Hughie said, nodding along because she obviously needed to get some of this out. "Cool. Little scary, but...cool." And at this point, it felt weird not to offer a hand over. "I'm Hughie, by the way."
Annie	"Annie," she told him, her smile growing a little as she shook the offered hand. And just like that, it was a little easier to live with herself.

[more preplaying with myself! Warning for language, taken in almost its entirety from The Boys 1.01, 'The Name of the Game.' NFB, NFI, OOC remains welcome!]