things she didn't want to hear (reprise)

who: arden and jesse
where: the park
when: mid day

For a girl who had spent her morning with only herself to occupy it, Arden had certainly put it to eventful use. Other kids might be sleeping in their Saturday safe and warm in their homes, but she couldn't get out of hers quick enough. She had spent the early hours lying still beneath her covers, not daring to go the bathroom, trying not to breath unless she had to. Once her dad's footsteps had disappeared with the sound of the front door Arden got up, ran to the bathroom, got dressed, and headed out the door.

She had hung mainly around the park, never too far from the fountain, hoping to run into Pepper or any of the other street kids. But that hadn't happened. So Arden had spent her morning abusing just about anything or anyone that had crossed her path: any bird dumb enough not to migrate for the winter, a bunch of trees that needed rocks thrown at them, a stupid couple whose locked lips were the perfect target for a snowball... and a bunch of other stupid things that were just asking for it in Arden's opinion. Or, at least, that was how it had started. Then it just became something to do. And then it just became boring. And then dumb.

And so Arden had now progressed to traipsing about the row of perilously icy park benches, playing once again at tightrope-walking, and relishing that defiant rush of risk as she hopped from one slick bench to another. And she was being more than awesome at it, hopping from one bench to another, happily plotting what to do with the collection of iceballs-cleverly-disguised-as-snowballs she had protectively stored beneath a previously-abused tree. She was just thinking how wonderfully right it would be if she could send one of those iceballs hurtling directly at the face of that stupid Margaret Haysworth-cow when, in another bench-to-bench hop, Arden's toe slipped and she found herself smacking both bench and ground -- and it hurt.

Jesse had been out walking. He tended to do that sometimes, when he had too much on his mind, and he didn't want his daughter sitting him down to Talk. At the moment, there wasn't anything on his mind he could actually share with her, and he hated lying. He also hated telling her that she was right, there was a whole lot on the back burner in his head there, but he couldn't tell her what it was. That just tended to hurt her feelings, and that kind of made everything all the worse for him.

As preoccupied as he was, however, he was still first and formost, a father, and he saw a little girl take a nasty fall. So, instinct kicked in before anything else, and he hurried over, crouching down by her. "Hey, you okay?" he asked, not reaching out yet to help her, aware he was just some strange man to the kid, so he didn't want to automatically assume it was alright to do anything like help her up. But he was looking her over quicklike to see if she was bleeding or not.

Arden was not very impressed with having a witness to that stellar fall there. "I'm fine," she shot back, fixing Jesse with an angry Look as if he had sent her falling. Whatever tears she wouldn't have spilled anyway certainly weren't going to leak out now with this stupid grown-up here. She placed her hand upon the bench and used it to push herself up -- not at all happy with the hiss she let out and the initial faltering as her scraped palm pressed against the wood. Then Arden half-hobbled and half-hopped a step or two, because yeah -- her knee had taken the brunt of that fall there. And it, along with a bright gash, now showed through a brand new tear in her jeans. And that annoyed Arden most of all, because now her Dad was definitely gonna get her to throw them away.

"You don't look okay." Jesse observed, seeing blood in several places. "Sit down." he said. "Let me take a look." he added. "You're definitely bleeding. How's your head? Did you hit it?" Since head injuries were a little more pressing than scrapes. Head injuries could be rather bad. He'd seen a few too many of them in his day. Hell. He'd suffered a few too many of them. They sucked, all things considered. Though, not quite as bad as, say, getting shot.

The last thing Arden appreciated when she wasn't okay was having it pointed out that she wasn't. And that, along with embarassment from her fall, and the tear in her jeans, and just general suckiness of everything in general, only fueled that spitefully defiant nature that easily broke out on a good day. "I don't need to sit down," she answered, not that she had really thought about that at all. The guy wanted her to sit down, so she wasn't going to. ...Never mind that sitting down had been the next step in her plan only mere seconds ago. Instead Arden turned and made a couple more steps that weren't really much of a testament to her not sitting down, even though she was behaving like they were. After a frustrating go at some steps Arden stopped and glanced over at Jesse, just to see if he was still there, behaving as if that had been her point in stopping all along. All ready to be irrationally peeved if he wasn't, Arden shot him another dirty look when she found that he was. "You can go now," she said coolly. Well, really it was her attempt at a cool tone... it had too much of that hot frustration to really be considered one.

"Well, I'd do that, if I thought you were alright, but you're not walking too well there, little miss sunshine, and you're still bleeding. And I'm just not the sort that leaves people wandering around with injuries." he said, figuring if he called her a 'kid' she'd take issue. He stood straight, and walked over to her, which was really only a step and a half. "How about you let me at least take a look." he suggested. "Won't hurt anything, and it might help." he suggested. He was already wondering what her name was. Wondered if his daughter knew her or went to school with her. He was also wondering what the fuck she was doing wandering around on her own, when she didn't look like a street kid.

Arden wasn't shy about staring him down (well technically she was staring up at him, despite her height). "You don't look like a doctor," she retorted, crossing her arms and putting as much disdain in the voice that she could muster. For a long moment she said nothing, doing what she did often with adults: wait them out, see just who could hold out the longest until the other gave in. She was pretty good at it, in her opinion, adults were weak and only pretended otherwise. But normally she also wasn't host to a bunch of cuts and scrapes and other such injuries that did, in fact, hurt painfully.

"Fine." she relented, casting a quick glare to make up for the whole 'giving in' thing. Oh, she'd find some way to get him back for that. Such as not going to sit down on that stupid dumb bench she had slipped on and instead hopping up and across the path to another one. Hah! Sure she would've preferred not hopping around so right now, but this was about making him have to walk that distance too as he followed her.

"Well, I'm not a doctor, but then again, I'm pretty sure if someone tried to cart you off to the hospital to have them look you over, you'd throw a fit, so maybe it's best I'm not." Jesse told her, smirking faintly. He also followed, and waited for her to sit down, then he took her hand and turned it over to eye the scrape on her palm. "So, no medical expertise going on here. Just normal 'I've patched up skinned knees before' stuff with my daughter. You happen to know her? Her name's Jessie James." he said, glancing up for a moment before looking back to her hand, and then he dug a handkerchief out of his pocket, to blot at the blood there.

Arden merely shrugged. It was probably the most unhelpful response ever considering it was a simple 'yes' or 'no' question; and the answer was actually yes she did know Jessie. She was a couple years ahead of her and had recently talked to Arden a couple of times. Or, well, tried to talk to Arden. But Arden wasn't falling for it. Sure, none of the older kids from the high school had gotten into teasing her, but she wouldn't be surprised if they decided to start. And she had seen that 'nice' act by too many schoolmates and grown-ups to be sucked in like an idiot. She bit back another hiss as the handkerchief touched her palm, although the grimace betrayed her. "Name sounds familiar," she mumbled, again not particularly wishing to be helpful.

Jesse was gentle with trying to clean the grit out of her scrape, something he did in fact have practice with. "What's your name?" he asked. He could ask Baby J later about the girl, all that. Or maybe Lily. Lily, who'd said she'd help with the Arden situation, assuming he, say, ever found Kess again. Which might prove difficult, really, considering it was a big city and all. And while he remembere she had one hell of a mouthfull of a last name, he didn't remember what that was, so much.

She eyed him warily, very much tempted to say 'Firebrand' -- the meaning Pepper had assigned to her name. But he was a grown-up, and Arden didn't feel that he should get to be know that information. "Arden," she stated in a tone that dared him to say something about it.

Blinking, Jesse looked up immediately, staring at her for a long moment. "Arden." he repeated. "You're--" You're mother's name is Kess, isn't it? "Your father's name is Eugene?" he said instead, since that was her current parent and all. Asshole that he was. He couldn't possibly be this lucky, could he? Not that he figured this would end well, but just meeting her at random...that was a stroke of luck of some description.

She didn't answer him, but the suspicious-laden narrowing of the eyes was confirmation enough. As far as Arden was concerned a complete stranger, who she already wasn't too happy with for seeing her fall and then having to sit down when she had gone for not having to, had just suddenly mentioned her father into the equation and knew his name and Arden didn't know what that meant but it couldn't be good. Adults knowing her father were never good for her. Especially because they could tell on her and stuff. And a lot of them did. "Maybe. Maybe not. Who wants to know?" she asked in that whole defensive 'I'm not tellin' you nothin'' manner.

"I do." Jesse said. He sat back a little, and looked at her knee, starting to dab at the blood there as he tried to figure out how to approach things. "I met your mother a while back." he said, not looking up at her even if he was paying strict attention to her. He was going to add on that Kess missed her, but thought maybe only taking this one little bit at a time would be better. Especially with as volitile as the kid seemed and it went along with what Lily had been telling him about her behavior. By now he was also looking for signs of abuse.

Arden froze, those words hitting on a bunch of unpleasant, turbulent emotions she couldn't begin to guess at. Breathing became a difficult thing for the girl; but jerking her knee away violently wasn't. "I don't have a mother," she answered with a steel tone, its coldness was surprising considering how fiery the girl tended to be. But it was true. She didn't have a mother. She had never had a mother, really. Real mothers loved their kids. No matter what. They didn't leave and never come back. Real mothers always loved their kids; they didn't love them one day and decide they didn't the next. But her moth-- that woman had. Arden never had a mother. She only had her dad.

Jesse didn't try to stop her from pulling away. Instead, he stayed where he was, and watched her, taking a moment before he answered. "Yes you do. Her name is Kess. But from what I understand, your dad's made sure she can't see you. So I'm sure it does seem like you don't have one." he said, not wanting her to think he didn't believe her. Just that there was another point of view out there. Not that he expected her to buy it. But it was worth a shot.

She didn't buy it. Not one bit. And what he was saying about her father made her angry. Really angry. She even forgot all about the fight last night over Mrs. Baird's stupid broccoli casserole when he said that. "I don't," Arden asserted, that icy tone gone. It was hot, and passionate, and very very angry. She couldn't think in thoughts really, only colors: red, mostly; and black; and other colors that didn't have names yet. And all of them were violent. "And you can't talk about my dad like that!" Her dad who hadn't left. The only parent Arden ever really had, the only one she ever will. Her dad who was perfect before her mom had left and broke both of them and made him yell at and shake her now like he had when he found her 'eaten' slice of casserole in the trash can. It was all her mom's fault, and this guy had no right to say what he did!

Kess had called it. Arden and her immediate alliance with her father. And he'd seen it before too, on a few different levels. It wasn't an easy mentality to break into, and with her being as young as she was, it'd be even harder. "If you think about it sometime, your mom said she writes you letters, but hasn't ever heard back. If you haven't gotten any, look around the house. Maybe you'll find them. Or check the mail yourself now and then...maybe you'll find one there." he suggested, going for that track, instead of saying anything else about her father at all. Even if the ultimate reasoning on things would be that her father had been keeping her from things. But Arden might not even put that together til she found evidence. If she found evidence.

"She's a liar," was Arden's reply, oblivious to the fact that such an answer negated her 'I don't have a mother' stance. Admitting she had a mother was admitting that she had left which was admitting that Arden had failed in the most basic task of a child: being loved by their mom. She wasn't yelling right now, but she was clearly far from emotionally stable. "She never sent any letters. She was just lying to you because she's a liar."

She aimed for a collected glare at Jesse, trying to bore that knowledge into him they same way it bore into her. And she succeeded on the glare part, although it wasn't very collected. Arden leaned back a bit and shrugged, "But I don't care. I don't need a liar. I have my dad," she reasserted -- maybe a bit to herself -- and again aimed for the whole 'nonchalant' thing. As if to prove just how very cool and unconcerned she was about everything, Arden moved her knee back to the position she had jerked it away from.

Jesse started to blot at her knee again. "Maybe she is, and maybe she's not." Jesse said. "But that opinion kind of sounds like your dad's to me. You seem like a girl who likes to make up her own mind. Maybe you'll give it a think, maybe look around, and do that. Maybe you'll just go with what you're told. Up to you." he said, just putting it out there. He specifically termed it in a way he thought might get her attention better, something that might spark her very clear defiance and independant personality traits. Was it manipulation? Yeah. Was it for a good ultimate cause? He thought so. So he could justify it in his head. All he was doing was presenting an option for her. That was all. Plus, he remembered being a teenager, and he knew sometimes the only way to get through was by wording things very carefully.

"It's not his opinion," she declared, more than defensive as she scowled down at Jesse with arms crossed. The scowl was definitely a bit perturbed though. It irked her, the way he said that. It was only a by a little bit, but even if it was only a little that doubt wouldn't let her shove it off. "I'm not going along with anything. You'll see."

She'd prove to him that he was wrong Her father wouldn't do that. He loved her: he hadn't left. And Arden was going to prove that this guy was wrong and her mother was just as much a liar as she had always been and show that they had no right to talk like that about her father.

"Okay." Jesse said, looking up from her knee again. That, just as he was tying his handkerchief around her knee, figuring she could just keep it. he didn't have bandages on him, after all, and since they were in the park, there weren't any shops nearby where he could buy any. She'd be fine, she was just scraped up, but still. The knee was the worst so he did his best there. What he was doing with the rest of the conversation was just agreeing. He figured she wouldn't have huffed at him that he'd see if she didn't plan on taking some sort of action. Which was basically all he wanted. Just her, taking a look at the situation at hand. If all she saw was what her father wanted her to, then that was how it would go, but if not? Maybe she'd learn something. It was about as good as he could do on short notice, with only so much he had in the way of options. It wasn't like he could even try and convince her to go see her mom--he didn't know where the hell she was either. He just knew there'd been letters, and he'd figured --correctly--that Arden hadn't been getting them at all.

There was an empty yet churning and dissatisfied feeling Arden got when adults gave in and agreed with her. Usually they did so as a brush off, or they were humoring her and really thought the opposite of what they said, or their agreeing now mean they'd make her pay for it later. She didn't get any of that feeling from Jesse, but that only served to make her more wary. Her eyes narrowed down at him, trying to determine what he wanted and just what he was playing at. There was no doubt in her mind that he wasn't playing at something. No adult was nice and agreeing with her without something up their sleeve. And Arden was determined to figure out what Jesse was up to, and what he wanted. And she was even more determined do the exact opposite of whatever it was once she figured it out, and get him back for all the things he had said.

But the big, glaring glitch in that theory? was that after a long and severely scrutinizing moment Arden still couldn't piece it together. And that? was frustrating. Incredibly so. "What are you playin' at?" Her eyes narrowed even further as she scrutinized him with the question. She hated it, finally having to resort to asking for what she couldn't figure out.

He pushed himself to his feet, wiping her blood on his jeans as he did so. "I'm not playing at anything, Arden." he told her. "I told you what I know, you told me what you do. The stories don't match. But it's not my family that's in question here. It's not up to me to make you care, or try and get you to think one way or another. That's up to you. I've just given you information you didn't have before. You can believe me or not. That's up to you too. Do I wish you'd think it over? Yeah, sure I do. And I could tell you why, but I'm pretty sure you'll just yell at me again, and not want to hear it." he said, being straight up honest with her. "I also really hope things are okay for you at home. Though, considering you're out here all by yourself, and you seem bound and determined to be as contrary as possible, I'm not sure I'd believe that it is. But I hope it is." He drew in a breath, and let it out. "Look. If you need anything, look me up. Jesse James. Lily, the tutor at your school, she knows me, knows where I live. If you need anything, need a place to go, or want to talk or anything. I'll be around." He gave her a light smile. "You should wash your cuts out as soon as you can." he told her. "I used to leave mine and they always hurt worse later when I did."

For once Arden bit her tongue, honestly unsure what to do in the situation. Maybe it was the honesty, or maybe it was just his 'I'm talking to an adult instead of a little kid' tone, or maybe it was just simply that even Arden had her limits as to how many turbulent emotions she could go through and to how spiteful and defiant she could be in such a short period of time. Whatever it was, it had dispelled some of the defiance and spite for spite's sake out of her demeanor... for now. But she still eyed him warily, that didn't change, although the whole 'angry glare' thing she had going there had certainly dimmed a bit.

"Hmph," was her response, glancing away from him to stare at some nondescript space in the distance. She tried to make like she didn't care and wasn't paying attention, but she caught all of it. Arden could sense the loss of some that haughty fire, and she tried to more than make up for it in her tone and response to him. But what really came across was she was trying for it instead of it actually being the case.

"Maybe," she finally vocalized, pushing her own self up off the bench. The temporary lack of fire meant she wasn't up for just being straight-up difficult and saying 'No' (not that it would be directed to a specific part of his response, only because 'No' almost always worked for being difficult). But Arden's wariness wouldn't let her say 'Yes' outright to anything either. So... 'maybe'. "Good bye," at a loss to decide what was rude and what wasn't -- Jesse? Mr. James? -- and at an even bigger loss as to whether she wanted to be rude right now, Arden left off using his name. But she did glance back at him, at least, before beginning her (more stable) limping away.

He watched her go, and nodded to her when she did, keeping an eye on her as she walked off. It took a lot not to follow, to be sure she made it someplace safe, but he didn't imagine that would go well. So, for the moment, he had to be satisfied that he'd tried. And maybe she'd listen, eventually, or at least entertain the possibility that her home life might not be everything it seemed to be.