Page 94 of Greased

I give Dawson a questioning look before he shrugs, “I thought you might want to wear pants for the conversation we are about to have.”

I chuckle, nodding as I go and grab the spare change of clothes I packed for after my performance. I pull my panties and jeans on but leave the shirt Dawson gave me. If he thinks I plan on giving it back to him, he is sorely mistaken. You can’t give a girl aBring Me the Horizonband tee and expect her to give it back.

I slip on my sneakers and run a quick brush through my hair, taming the knots. After the night we had, there are plenty of them.

“Are you decent?” Dawson calls out. I give him a muffled yes through the hair tie in my mouth.

Sliding the curtain across, Dawson walks in, smiling as he sees the shirt still on me.

He takes the brush from my hand from where I’m aggressively brushing as well as the band from my mouth.

“Let me do it,” he mumbles. I nod as he slowly starts pulling the brush through my hair.

He’s gentle as he slowly starts untangling the knots. A gentleness that I didn’t think Dawson could ever possess. Once the knots are combed out, he parts my hair and slowly begins to braid it.

“Where did you learn to do this?” I ask.

Dawson’s smiles but it's a sad one. My heart clenches as he stays silent for a while. He twists my hair right until the end before tying it off with the hair tie.

“Before you were taken from us, I used to braid your hair all the time. You refused to let anyone but me do it. Even your Mum wasn’t an exception to the demand,” he chuckles as he looks at me through the mirror, “You always said that I was gentle, and you liked the way I did it. Every day I would spend ages sitting with you, brushing your hair before braiding it.”

I stare at Dawson in shock, “You did?”

He nods, smiling, “It was always my favourite time of the day. The smile you would give me once I was done always made it worth it.” He looks back down at my hair, reaching up and playing with the ends, “I didn’t realise how much those moments meant to me until now.” Dawson trials off and I stay quiet, allowing him to collect his thoughts.

Eventually he looks back up at me and by the look on his face, I know this needs to be said face to face. I turn around, facing Dawson properly.

“The day you were taken was the worst day of my life. I couldn’t eat or sleep properly for months after,” he sighs, “It was the same for all of us. It was empty with you gone. But each day we held onto hope that our dads and the rest of the ‘Birds would find you.”

A lone tear drips down his face and I catch it with my thumb. He hangs his head as he continues.

“When your dad came back, we were all at your house with our mums waiting. I knew from the look on their faces that it wasn’t good news.” Another tear falls from Dawson's eye and my heart breaks for him.

He looks up at me, tears silently falling from his eyes, “They didn’t have to say anything. I just knew that you were gone.” He takes a deep breath, “That day repeats in my head over and over again.” He grabs my head in his hands as he steps into me, “That’s why I keep asking you to leave. To go home. I need you safe, Scarlett. The thought of you being in any kind of danger is unbearable to me.”

I feel the truth in every single word Dawson speaks. I feel the heartbreak in his tone as he pleads with me. While I hear what he issaying and can sympathise with him to some degree, he also needs to understand where I’m coming from.

“I hear you loud and clear Dawson, I really do. But this is my home. It's always been my home. I feel like this is exactly where I am meant to be. Even though parts of this life terrify me and at times I put on a brave face, I need to do this.

“There are women out there who need me. Children out there that are living through what I somehow survived. I feel like this is my calling. Not being some barista in some beach side town in Australia, but being a figure in this organisation and saving lives,” I plead with Dawson, begging him to understand me. I don’t know why I need his approval or support of me being here but I do. I’ve craved it from the moment he snubbed me when I first returned.

I see the fear written all over his face, the same emotion that has been haunting him all this time, “But what if something happens and you get hurt again? I can’t live through that. I don’t think any of us can handle losing you again. And there’s a risk of that being here.”

I nod my head agreeing with him, “I know that. Trust me I do. I’ve been warned relentlessly by Mum, Dad and Rhodes. I see just how serious it is just based on the training we do. But I need you to put some faith in me,” I say gripping Dawson’s hands,

“I’m not an eight-year-old child. I’m not entirely defenceless. And with the five of you standing at my back, I know that I can do this.” I pause as I look deep into Dawson’s eyes, “Have faith in me.”

Dawson remains silent for a moment as he assesses me. It feels like he’s dissecting me. Inspecting every single facet of me.

Eventually he nods, “I’ll try. But I swear to God if you get injured again, I’m locking you up and bubble wrapping you.”

We both laugh, breaking the tension in the room. Dawson’s hands drop from my face but he grabs my waist, like he’s not quite ready to let go of me yet.

I point a finger at him, remembering myself and just how much of an asshole he’s been, “This doesn’t mean that things are okay between us. You have a fuck load of grovelling to do and I don’t plan on letting you off easy. You’ve been a fucking cunt.”

Dawson winces, “Shit, that’s not even the friend kind of cunt I’ve heard you call people before either.”

I raise my eyebrow and he lifts his hands in surrender, “I know. I have been a cunt. But I promise to ease up. I don’t expect anything between us.”

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