"Doesn't matter. The last time I tried dating Mother threw such a fit I had to take a week off work to console her." He groans at even the slightest turn, shaking, entire body wracked with pain from the head down. "Not allowed to marry, not allowed to date. She says that's not how it is but any time I so much as have lipstick on my collar she's bedridden for a month. Not that I care, I'll just be a bachelor forever. Seems to suit you well enough."

He knows why Peggy doesn't date, that she's had trauma beaten into her so much it's like it's in her very pores, that she's still in love with ghosts because ghosts can only hurt her the same way they always have instead of finding new, sadistic methods of torture and violation - but it's easier, when you have a friend, to pretend that they do things by choice instead of because pain invisibly marionettes them. Easier to love them, easier to rest sleep at night not devoured alive by powerlessness.

"Slow down." Peggy's driving slow already, but even the tiniest motion feels like a jackhammer to Jason's head. "Anyone honks you have my permission to take down their license plate so I can key their car later."