silence, for a long moment, as she kind of just. holds him like a fucking lifeline. her hand twitches, shakes a little. ]
I missed you too.
[ in a way that she cannot really explain with words. in a way she hasn't missed someone in years, in the same way she misses her family from years ago - the stability of his presence is so, so soothing, and she didn't realize how bad it was getting until now. ]
[ AGGRESSIVELY GRABS YOUR CAR AND PUTS IT BACK ON THE CORRECT ROAD INSTEAD OF THE CAREENING PATH TO BAD MENTAL HEALTH HELL
anyway. he feels that tremor, and there's something sort of - bolstering in it, something raw in knowing someone else is feeling the same as you are, is feeling the way that you do. great, heavy, impossible, a bleeding heart torn wide open and re-sutured, over and over. he'd said that their relationship had been serendipity, that they found each other in the wrong place, at the right time. and maybe that happened again, here, but right now, reunited and unable to be torn apart again, at least for a few more weeks, there's something utterly bolstering about knowing when you look to your left, that person will be there. ]
You were still there. [ not personally, maybe, but. if she gets to apologise, though, so will he. strohl adds, quietly; ] ...Sorry I couldn't do more.
[ to save her that night, to catch rosamund, to write more. he's felt so useless. there's something bolstering for strohl, natural helper, to be able to finally help. ]
[ HE IS REALLY STOPPING A CAR CRASH HERE it's dire
maybe it's better this way. maybe it's good that they're on this side, because they don't have to wake up every friday thinking is this the day i lose the comfort of having that person next to me. wrong place at the right time is so accurate. there's a sort of relief in the way she's hugging him that she can't hide. today's the first time she's genuinely laughed in weeks. she's been so heavy - she's not been sober since she died.
but she didn't bring a bottle to trial watch today. so. ]
You didn't need to do more than what you've been doing.
[ stubbornly. they can both be like this. they can both help. the eldest daughter and the only son. ]
they really deserve each other, in the end - separated by two different worlds, but a classic example of what nature and nurture truly means to a person and the way that they're built. ]
...I've not the energy to argue about it. [ he says, eventually. tiredly, but... it's not lacking humour, either. ] So you'll have to just accept what I've said, or at least fib that you accept it, and I'll do the same, one or the other.
[ because she's tired too, and she has a horrible headache and her hands are shaking a little, and it's not worth it to fight with him over how much they love each other. they do. she's sure of that, at least. she lets go, finally, leaning back to rub at her face. ]
[ honey your withdrawal. they're the same in this too, though it's not related to booze for him. just the horrors of the day, the exhaustion, the terrifying anxiety of what could have been done. the bonecrushing, guilty relief of now. just the slightest tremor and a migraine from hell. ]
...Yeah. [ softer. there's a lot of weight in that, many, many words unsaid, but maybe they don't have to be. in the end, he will be fine. heavier than he was when he came. but fine.
he shifts a little bit to loll his head and look at her. ] You?
she seems relieved that he's not ripping himself apart, honestly. vi's a fixer, but she isn't really sure how much she could even do in the event that strohl had killed hulkenberg, possessed or not. absently, she rubs at her wrists - if he's watching her closely, he'll see her dig her nails in every so often. maybe a little reminiscent of that hairband snapping habit she'd had right after her trip, weeks ago. ]
Sure. [ glances at him. ] I'm winning here, Strohl, I don't have to keep writing to you and Hulkenberg to tell you to die.
[ yeah he's like. shockingly okay about this. this was the best possible outcome for many reasons.
he's looking down at her hand when she looks at him - it takes him a second to look back up. ] That is true. [ he pauses, there. opens his mouth. closes it. seems to think on something. and...
well... that can wait. another day, for that one - instead, he shakes his head, clearing it out. ]
...Did you want to see? [ reaching up for his upper arm, gentle. maybe he can distract her hand. ]
she - hesitates? not terribly, not in a bad way, just. she knows it's going to kick her ass. it's a level of loyalty she isn't sure she has known before. a beat. ]
Yeah. [ she says finally, swallowing hard. ] Sure. If you wanna show me.
[ with that, he'll finally extricate himself a bit and shift to sit up. truthfully, despite being a victorian maiden in his heart, he's not that huge of a weenie and doesn't mind around people he's comfortable with, so - it takes him a minute to shed his top layers, undo his jabot, deal with all the layers of a regency outfit.
but. settled shirtless, she can see the tattoo in all its glory. mostly healed up now, carefully cared for. the same image from the photo - the griffin, and of course, the gear-encircled VI. he shifts to the side so his right side faces her, so it's easy to see. ]
[ it's also fine because she's the most lesbian woman to ever lesbian so she has zero interest in his chest, too. it's really just - she does get caught up in staring at the tattoo.
the gear-encircled VI. her breath catches, and then, quietly, in a rough voice: ]
It looks good.
[ it's more than that, but she's absolutely shit at expressing how she feels about it. which... might be okay, because it's evident on her face. it kind of hurts to look at, in a way that doesn't feel awful. ]
[ he smiles a little bit at that - despite the absolute fucking exhausting nightmare that has been the past forty eight hours, the warmth in his low voice is very genuine. ]
Guess it'd be worse if you thought it didn't. Little late for that. [ jokingly - he glances over his shoulder at her, reading her reaction. ] ...I could never forget about you - bar strange possession, but I remembered you then, too. You must know that.
Edited (remembers my own damn possession murder pick ) 2025-07-06 13:41 (UTC)
[ her reaction is that she's really very touched, and she has no idea how to get that across. vi is surprisingly emotionally smart, sometimes, but only for other people. genuine shows of loyalty are hard. unusual, even. when is the last time someone went out of their way to make her feel like she was important? ]
You're going to regret it if I do something to piss you off. [ this is supposed to be a joke but it kind of falls flat because she actually believes this. so it doesn't even do a good job of dodging what he says, and she just!! sighs, and looks away like :T because she knows he's going to see it and yell at her. ]
You've pissed me off plenty. We got into a fight the first three days we were here. [ about caring about each other too much which is objectively stupid and also why he says this.
anyway more sincerely, stubborn: ] I'm not. [ going to regret it. ]
... Do you remember? It was nigh one of the first things you asked me about. You were trying to get a read on me, I think. Told me a story about someone who lost their convictions after a loss.
[ a deeply familiar story, now. ]
I told you then I'd not back down. Still rings true.
and it does, but it's not so bad. for lack of something to do with her hands, she reaches for the bottle of whiskey she'd snatched from the mini fridges on the way in, and holds it. clicks her nails against the glass, staring down at it. ]
You've lasted longer than anybody else. [ she says, with a shrug. and she just goes ahead and takes a drink. ]
I do remember. I do more remembering here than anything else.
he takes the bottle. and then he gets up? he extricates himself, shirtless and all, and heads over to the area where the fridge was. he grabs a cup from wherever those are if they have them, and pours a couple fingers of the booze into it, then puts the bottle away and shuts the mini fridge with a decisive thunk, kicking it with his heel to ensure it is closed. ]
Every time I've been with you and things've been awful, the first thing you do is drink. [ oh THERE'S the lecture. ] You think I didn't notice?
she blinks, when he stands up, and she almost makes the move to stand up herself? like she's going to follow him. she stops about halfway up, because that's about the point that she realizes what he's doing and thinks, oh boy. by the time he's kicked the fridge closed, she looks like she's sucking on something sour, flopping back down into the blankets like a petulant child. ]
Don't say it like I was hiding it. [ she drawls, flippant. ] So what?
[ okay sassy. that petulant look gets an unimpressed one in return, and he comes back over with the cup. ]
You know exactly "so what." [ he's not doing it on purpose, but the tone of this is so don't take that tone with me young lady, somewhere between annoyed and deeply, deeply caring. it's his energy as a white karen ally. ]
You're an adult. I'm not going to say you can't make your own choices, but I'm not going to watch you poison yourself day in and day out, either. You've been twitching and shaking all day. Thought you hid that?
well. yes. she did think she was hiding that part, and her expression twitches. this is new territory - a couple of people here have tried to get her to eat something with her alcohol, or they've given the bottle a look and then kept talking, but nobody has ever tried to get her to slow down. to take care of herself. there's this certain amount of adrenaline in her at the thought of it, the stupid urge to keep pushing. yeah? you're not going to watch her poison herself? how much do you want that not to happen? how far can she go before you give up?
[ he says this less than a second after she finishes her sentence, fiercely and immediately, full eye contact. stubborn goat, leon strohl - but also he recognises this pushback, this destructiveness, and he's not letting it stand. he's never been one to let things simmer in the dark. ] I'll not have you tell me to look away when this is the first time I can see you in weeks.
How many times must I tell you that I'm not leaving you? [ a thousand, a million, he'll say it every time. it's a little stupid, he's sitting here with no shirt on in a damn pillow fort, but that noble, stubborn heart of his is as proud and fierce as ever. ] Do you think I only care for you when things are good?
[ like, it's stupid, right? it's stupid, he got a fucking tattoo for her. her name is on his goddamn arm, and she doubts him. or - maybe it's not that she doubts him, it's that it's scary. it's that she's been here before, it's that she was just here. she put all her trust in someone noble and kind and willing to do the right thing no matter what the consequences and that someone slammed a rifle into her stomach and left her in the dust. because she wasn't good enough. because she chose wrong.
he makes eye contact with her and she wants to drink or punch him or say something that'll really push him away. in fact, her mouth opens to do so, but he interrupts her, and she balks. she can't force herself to be terrible.
I do not think you are cruel, Sixes.
she swallows hard. do you think i only care when things are good? everybody else does, she thinks, but that's too self-pitying and pathetic, and that's not the truth, anyway. it's not that people only care when things are good. it's the people only care when she shoves everything she is down and compresses it into nothing. when she is who they want her to be. ]
No.
[ is her answer to that question, finally, but she feels like she's going to throw up when she says it, and she hates that feeling so bad. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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silence, for a long moment, as she kind of just. holds him like a fucking lifeline. her hand twitches, shakes a little. ]
I missed you too.
[ in a way that she cannot really explain with words. in a way she hasn't missed someone in years, in the same way she misses her family from years ago - the stability of his presence is so, so soothing, and she didn't realize how bad it was getting until now. ]
Sorry I left you guys behind.
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anyway. he feels that tremor, and there's something sort of - bolstering in it, something raw in knowing someone else is feeling the same as you are, is feeling the way that you do. great, heavy, impossible, a bleeding heart torn wide open and re-sutured, over and over. he'd said that their relationship had been serendipity, that they found each other in the wrong place, at the right time. and maybe that happened again, here, but right now, reunited and unable to be torn apart again, at least for a few more weeks, there's something utterly bolstering about knowing when you look to your left, that person will be there. ]
You were still there. [ not personally, maybe, but. if she gets to apologise, though, so will he. strohl adds, quietly; ] ...Sorry I couldn't do more.
[ to save her that night, to catch rosamund, to write more. he's felt so useless. there's something bolstering for strohl, natural helper, to be able to finally help. ]
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maybe it's better this way. maybe it's good that they're on this side, because they don't have to wake up every friday thinking is this the day i lose the comfort of having that person next to me. wrong place at the right time is so accurate. there's a sort of relief in the way she's hugging him that she can't hide. today's the first time she's genuinely laughed in weeks. she's been so heavy - she's not been sober since she died.
but she didn't bring a bottle to trial watch today. so. ]
You didn't need to do more than what you've been doing.
[ stubbornly. they can both be like this. they can both help. the eldest daughter and the only son. ]
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Then, neither did you. [ binch.
they really deserve each other, in the end - separated by two different worlds, but a classic example of what nature and nurture truly means to a person and the way that they're built. ]
...I've not the energy to argue about it. [ he says, eventually. tiredly, but... it's not lacking humour, either. ] So you'll have to just accept what I've said, or at least fib that you accept it, and I'll do the same, one or the other.
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We can just - both take it.
[ because she's tired too, and she has a horrible headache and her hands are shaking a little, and it's not worth it to fight with him over how much they love each other. they do. she's sure of that, at least. she lets go, finally, leaning back to rub at her face. ]
You gonna be okay? After all this.
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...Yeah. [ softer. there's a lot of weight in that, many, many words unsaid, but maybe they don't have to be. in the end, he will be fine. heavier than he was when he came. but fine.
he shifts a little bit to loll his head and look at her. ] You?
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she seems relieved that he's not ripping himself apart, honestly. vi's a fixer, but she isn't really sure how much she could even do in the event that strohl had killed hulkenberg, possessed or not. absently, she rubs at her wrists - if he's watching her closely, he'll see her dig her nails in every so often. maybe a little reminiscent of that hairband snapping habit she'd had right after her trip, weeks ago. ]
Sure. [ glances at him. ] I'm winning here, Strohl, I don't have to keep writing to you and Hulkenberg to tell you to die.
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he's looking down at her hand when she looks at him - it takes him a second to look back up. ] That is true. [ he pauses, there. opens his mouth. closes it. seems to think on something. and...
well... that can wait. another day, for that one - instead, he shakes his head, clearing it out. ]
...Did you want to see? [ reaching up for his upper arm, gentle. maybe he can distract her hand. ]
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she - hesitates? not terribly, not in a bad way, just. she knows it's going to kick her ass. it's a level of loyalty she isn't sure she has known before. a beat. ]
Yeah. [ she says finally, swallowing hard. ] Sure. If you wanna show me.
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but. settled shirtless, she can see the tattoo in all its glory. mostly healed up now, carefully cared for. the same image from the photo - the griffin, and of course, the gear-encircled VI. he shifts to the side so his right side faces her, so it's easy to see. ]
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the gear-encircled VI. her breath catches, and then, quietly, in a rough voice: ]
It looks good.
[ it's more than that, but she's absolutely shit at expressing how she feels about it. which... might be okay, because it's evident on her face. it kind of hurts to look at, in a way that doesn't feel awful. ]
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[ he smiles a little bit at that - despite the absolute fucking exhausting nightmare that has been the past forty eight hours, the warmth in his low voice is very genuine. ]
Guess it'd be worse if you thought it didn't. Little late for that. [ jokingly - he glances over his shoulder at her, reading her reaction. ] ...I could never forget about you - bar strange possession, but I remembered you then, too. You must know that.
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You're going to regret it if I do something to piss you off. [ this is supposed to be a joke but it kind of falls flat because she actually believes this. so it doesn't even do a good job of dodging what he says, and she just!! sighs, and looks away like :T because she knows he's going to see it and yell at her. ]
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he gives her a flat look. ]
You've pissed me off plenty. We got into a fight the first three days we were here. [ about caring about each other too much which is objectively stupid and also why he says this.
anyway more sincerely, stubborn: ] I'm not. [ going to regret it. ]
... Do you remember? It was nigh one of the first things you asked me about. You were trying to get a read on me, I think. Told me a story about someone who lost their convictions after a loss.
[ a deeply familiar story, now. ]
I told you then I'd not back down. Still rings true.
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and it does, but it's not so bad. for lack of something to do with her hands, she reaches for the bottle of whiskey she'd snatched from the mini fridges on the way in, and holds it. clicks her nails against the glass, staring down at it. ]
You've lasted longer than anybody else. [ she says, with a shrug. and she just goes ahead and takes a drink. ]
I do remember. I do more remembering here than anything else.
[ another drink. ]
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...Vi.
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What?
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Give me that.
[ maybe he just wants a drink too? maybe they can share? ]
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but... maybe he does want to share. he had a hard day, and she'd never deny him, so. she takes one more drink and then hands it to him. ]
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he takes the bottle. and then he gets up? he extricates himself, shirtless and all, and heads over to the area where the fridge was. he grabs a cup from wherever those are if they have them, and pours a couple fingers of the booze into it, then puts the bottle away and shuts the mini fridge with a decisive thunk, kicking it with his heel to ensure it is closed. ]
Every time I've been with you and things've been awful, the first thing you do is drink. [ oh THERE'S the lecture. ] You think I didn't notice?
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she blinks, when he stands up, and she almost makes the move to stand up herself? like she's going to follow him. she stops about halfway up, because that's about the point that she realizes what he's doing and thinks, oh boy. by the time he's kicked the fridge closed, she looks like she's sucking on something sour, flopping back down into the blankets like a petulant child. ]
Don't say it like I was hiding it. [ she drawls, flippant. ] So what?
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You know exactly "so what." [ he's not doing it on purpose, but the tone of this is so don't take that tone with me young lady, somewhere between annoyed and deeply, deeply caring. it's his energy as a white karen ally. ]
You're an adult. I'm not going to say you can't make your own choices, but I'm not going to watch you poison yourself day in and day out, either. You've been twitching and shaking all day. Thought you hid that?
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well. yes. she did think she was hiding that part, and her expression twitches. this is new territory - a couple of people here have tried to get her to eat something with her alcohol, or they've given the bottle a look and then kept talking, but nobody has ever tried to get her to slow down. to take care of herself. there's this certain amount of adrenaline in her at the thought of it, the stupid urge to keep pushing. yeah? you're not going to watch her poison herself? how much do you want that not to happen? how far can she go before you give up?
her jaw works. ]
Quit watching, then.
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[ he says this less than a second after she finishes her sentence, fiercely and immediately, full eye contact. stubborn goat, leon strohl - but also he recognises this pushback, this destructiveness, and he's not letting it stand. he's never been one to let things simmer in the dark. ] I'll not have you tell me to look away when this is the first time I can see you in weeks.
How many times must I tell you that I'm not leaving you? [ a thousand, a million, he'll say it every time. it's a little stupid, he's sitting here with no shirt on in a damn pillow fort, but that noble, stubborn heart of his is as proud and fierce as ever. ] Do you think I only care for you when things are good?
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he makes eye contact with her and she wants to drink or punch him or say something that'll really push him away. in fact, her mouth opens to do so, but he interrupts her, and she balks. she can't force herself to be terrible.
I do not think you are cruel, Sixes.
she swallows hard. do you think i only care when things are good? everybody else does, she thinks, but that's too self-pitying and pathetic, and that's not the truth, anyway. it's not that people only care when things are good. it's the people only care when she shoves everything she is down and compresses it into nothing. when she is who they want her to be. ]
No.
[ is her answer to that question, finally, but she feels like she's going to throw up when she says it, and she hates that feeling so bad. ]
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