[ you should be more worried about your own death you big dumb cow
she kind of just flops down against the bed and stays there, letting him rub her back. reality. right. except she doesn't want to be there either, because if she does, she has to think about how she might wake up tonight after everybody fell asleep and she doesn't want that. she's so foggy, she can't hold onto anything.
can't even save you in a fucking fantasy how am i supposed to
[ ughghghg that thought just - his brow furrows harder, frown deepening, and says, a little sharply - ]
Stop. [ not to the words, but to her thoughts. the words are different, he doesn't - he doesn't need the comfort that she's here. well, maybe he does, some, but he's not about to let this go down the same exact spiral of self loathing when they had worked so hard to go in the right direction, when things were finally starting to go right.
it's not mean. just like they've always been - anger and temper that come from compassion, and he's calm, even if he feels like he's going to yartz from the anger and stress. this is purpose, this is conviction, this gives him the chance to do something, even if it's not dealing with the horrible monster that is tomorrow night. ] T
his place specifically does this to harm people - it has nothing to do with you, or I, or anyone. It drags people in to these bloody gauntlets on purpose to make them suffer. I saw Hulkenberg. I saw Will, back in the resort. It's doing it on purpose.
Knew how you were thinking, though, didn't I. [ like yea i am both pot and kettle thank you! i know! but at least i know what your dumb brain is doing! also that was different because she actually died not in a cyoa so clearly its different (its not) ]
I wasn't thinking anything. Can barely hear you over this stupid song. [ her voice is getting raspier the longer she talks but whatever, she has to fight him. ]
[ vi's in too much pain for this kind of thing. he just lurches, internally, at the sound of her voice and shakes his head, because he just - he just doesn't want to argue. he argued with count strohl da haliaetus the night before the humans attacked. the last thing he wants is for things to go wrong, again, and for the last thing they talk about to be a shouting match.
so he just looks at her for a second, and then shakes his head, and gets up - half stalking across the room to get a cup to go fill it with water. his thoughts are a mess, a scribbly bubble of worry and fear and a thousand other things at once - When I forgot someone I tried to kill her-- but he half waves his hand over his head to try and clear the stupid bubble as he comes back and sets the drink down at her bedside, then sets down in a chair, all long limbs, furrowed brow.
all he wants to do is take care of vi, right now; nothing about him or his own thoughts matter even remotely. ] ...Sorry. If I could stop it for you, I would. Suppose I could try to knock you out, but I don't think it'd help.
[ the way they are both convinced she's going to die tonight
she doesn't drink, just yet. there's a scribbly thought above her head that is like - hungry, why the fuck am i so hungry - before she shifts, trying to get comfortable. this is impossble, because the wound on her back is throbbing, and she's covered in burns, but she's trying. ]
I don't want to sleep anyway.
[ she also doesn't want to think at him. that's weird, and all of her brain problems are so much more apparent when she does that. for a moment, she just focuses on breathing properly. ]
Where... where are we going tonight?
[ for curfew. resigned, almost. like she's not terrified of waking up. ]
[ jesus he's just failing on every single fucking count today huh. he opens his mouth, closes it, jitters a little in place and shakes his head. ]
... Sorry. He - came back, while you were passed out. Must've gotten picked up on one of those trips and dropped back in. Her highness said they tried to travel here the day we did and got sent somewhere strange, so it's not out of the question.
[ thank you. god. this takes his stress level down exactly one tick which is something, and he reaches out to gently steady her hand as she does, expression complicated.
I don't want to lose you again. a thought, brief, skittering across. ]
[ that thought makes her eyes burn. she reaches for him, after she's finished drinking. just, like. she knows she's injured, but please. come here. that's what you can do. ]
[ okay, good. she just. hugs him. she wraps her arms around him and holds onto him like he's a lifeline. it makes her feel safer, like always. the tension in her shoulders comes down just a little bit. ]
M'tired of losing you. [ she says, small and against his shoulder. so like. same big feelings. ]
[ this is fine. he adjusts, a little - shifting to sit back against the pillows, to make space so vi can just lean against him, so he can half pull her into his lap for the sake of closeness, because if that's what she wants, it might settle them both.
his heart lurches. i'm tired of losing you. they've been separated for so long, one way or another; got lucky, to be brought here again, only for this to happen all over. the deja vu is terrifying. and the very thing that motivated vi to finally agree was the chance that she could save his life, and he trusts her to do so, intimately, trusts that she'll have his back like she promised, but they just have to get there first. ]
Yeah. [ softly, barely vocal. he has to take a breath to keep his composure. Tired of grieving. ] ... Yeah, me too.
[ this is exactly what she wants, actually, she just crawls half into his lap and wraps her arms around him. it feels familiar. it feels like sitting on the couch in a basement, falling asleep with three other kids all collapsed on top of her, worn out and sugar-crashed. the room around them shifts slightly, a daydream to provide a little comfort.
she's so tired of grieving, too. she thinks about that happy village, she thinks about the circles under his eyes being gone, she thinks of getting to live and getting to prosper, and how much she finally just really wants to go somewhere that feels like home.
in an exhausted, wet tone: ]
I'll be back soon.
[ if she dies. she swallows hard, and then: ] It won't be as long this time, if...
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she kind of just flops down against the bed and stays there, letting him rub her back. reality. right. except she doesn't want to be there either, because if she does, she has to think about how she might wake up tonight after everybody fell asleep and she doesn't want that. she's so foggy, she can't hold onto anything.
can't even save you in a fucking fantasy how am i supposed to
silence, and then, dragging in a shaky breath: ]
M'fine. M'here.
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Stop. [ not to the words, but to her thoughts. the words are different, he doesn't - he doesn't need the comfort that she's here. well, maybe he does, some, but he's not about to let this go down the same exact spiral of self loathing when they had worked so hard to go in the right direction, when things were finally starting to go right.
it's not mean. just like they've always been - anger and temper that come from compassion, and he's calm, even if he feels like he's going to yartz from the anger and stress. this is purpose, this is conviction, this gives him the chance to do something, even if it's not dealing with the horrible monster that is tomorrow night. ] T
his place specifically does this to harm people - it has nothing to do with you, or I, or anyone. It drags people in to these bloody gauntlets on purpose to make them suffer. I saw Hulkenberg. I saw Will, back in the resort. It's doing it on purpose.
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Don't get to scold me when you spent weeks blaming yourself for me dying.
[ she's not too injured to be a BRAT ]
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anyway he sighs. ]
Knew how you were thinking, though, didn't I. [ like yea i am both pot and kettle thank you! i know! but at least i know what your dumb brain is doing! also that was different because she actually died not in a cyoa so clearly its different (its not) ]
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scowls at him from where she's melted. ]
I wasn't thinking anything. Can barely hear you over this stupid song. [ her voice is getting raspier the longer she talks but whatever, she has to fight him. ]
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so he just looks at her for a second, and then shakes his head, and gets up - half stalking across the room to get a cup to go fill it with water. his thoughts are a mess, a scribbly bubble of worry and fear and a thousand other things at once - When I forgot someone I tried to kill her-- but he half waves his hand over his head to try and clear the stupid bubble as he comes back and sets the drink down at her bedside, then sets down in a chair, all long limbs, furrowed brow.
all he wants to do is take care of vi, right now; nothing about him or his own thoughts matter even remotely. ] ...Sorry. If I could stop it for you, I would. Suppose I could try to knock you out, but I don't think it'd help.
Don't talk. Just think, if you can.
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she doesn't drink, just yet. there's a scribbly thought above her head that is like - hungry, why the fuck am i so hungry - before she shifts, trying to get comfortable. this is impossble, because the wound on her back is throbbing, and she's covered in burns, but she's trying. ]
I don't want to sleep anyway.
[ she also doesn't want to think at him. that's weird, and all of her brain problems are so much more apparent when she does that. for a moment, she just focuses on breathing properly. ]
Where... where are we going tonight?
[ for curfew. resigned, almost. like she's not terrified of waking up. ]
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but, the mention just has his expression tighten a little, and he glances away, folding his arms across his chest. don't think. just don't. ]
...Back to the lounge. Boothill'll likely be there, too.
[ injured folk all together. ]
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-- Boothill?
[ a panicked pulse of but i thought we're not dead as she looks up at him. her soup brain. she did not register he was here. ]
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... Sorry. He - came back, while you were passed out. Must've gotten picked up on one of those trips and dropped back in. Her highness said they tried to travel here the day we did and got sent somewhere strange, so it's not out of the question.
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Oh. [ ... ] Okay. I.. yeah. I got mail like that too.
[ a beat. ]
Quit apologizing.
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Just need to watch my mouth, as it were.
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REACHES OVER TO TRY AND PUNCH HIS ARM it's lame and she probably misses ]
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Vi. [ EXASPERATED. ]
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[ a little sharply. ]
You're not doing anything wrong.
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I'm not doing anything. [ christ. he makes a gesture at the water again like come on. ] Humour me.
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she'll reach for it and drink it. slowly, with shaky hands, but she does. ]
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I don't want to lose you again. a thought, brief, skittering across. ]
... Tell me what I can do for you.
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M'tired of losing you. [ she says, small and against his shoulder. so like. same big feelings. ]
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his heart lurches. i'm tired of losing you. they've been separated for so long, one way or another; got lucky, to be brought here again, only for this to happen all over. the deja vu is terrifying. and the very thing that motivated vi to finally agree was the chance that she could save his life, and he trusts her to do so, intimately, trusts that she'll have his back like she promised, but they just have to get there first. ]
Yeah. [ softly, barely vocal. he has to take a breath to keep his composure. Tired of grieving. ] ... Yeah, me too.
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she's so tired of grieving, too. she thinks about that happy village, she thinks about the circles under his eyes being gone, she thinks of getting to live and getting to prosper, and how much she finally just really wants to go somewhere that feels like home.
in an exhausted, wet tone: ]
I'll be back soon.
[ if she dies. she swallows hard, and then: ] It won't be as long this time, if...
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[ immediately - it's rough, more exhausted and worn down than angry. ] Please.
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