[ by the latter half of second day, it'd become weird not to hear from him at all, and though she'd hardly categorize herself as the clingy type, she knows in a place like this, it's a good idea to take precautions in making sure people are still breathing. after stopping by the junkyard first and hearing that he hadn't been there for a few days, she heads to his apartment, knocking several times to no answer.
pulling out a hair pin to begin fidgeting at his lock, she mutters to herself first about how crazy it is to do this outside of the apocalypse, but she also affirms that she could apologize later for the crazy of it. because right now, making sure he wasn't dead was the priority.
to her relief, he isn't dead; to her horror, it could be something worse.
she knows the vein-covered skin-like material that coats his body, knows it because she'd found remnants of the same thing when she'd woken back up in deerington after three years gone. whatever the hell it is, she knows what it means, and while she can see him lying right there, he isn't there at all — he's back in his world.
however long that's meant for, she assumes that since his body is there, he will come back, though the timeline of it is a mystery itself, since she'd been gone two weeks from this world before she'd settled back in. for now, the least she can do is make sure he's safe, make sure nothing happens to his body in the meanwhile. trying not to think of the circumstances, of what it means for him to be gone now, or what anything will mean when he does come back, she focuses on the now as she always does, feeding audrey some water and keeping him safe.
eventually, though, when she makes her rounds again back to his apartment, he isn't there, evidence of that vein material on the floor hinting of his wake. swearing under her breath, she races out, hoping he hasn't gone too far, that he isn't so completely out of his realm to wake up to all of this alone.
what she finds, though, is a sight all too familiar, something she'd hoped they'd put behind them, crazed eyes and a gun tight in his grip, ready to shoot if someone makes the wrong move. ]
Am— [ before she can get the word out, he's already swinging, gun smacking hard against her shoulder, drawing out a pained grunt before she sees it held unsteady, ready to shoot in her direction. ] Amos, stop! It's me!
( he knows that voice. he knows that voice but it's a voice he hasn't heard in months and it's a voice he's tried not to think about either. he'd kept the whole thing to himself, tried to convince himself that this hadn't happened and turned away from it so he could keep moving.
and now, that voice was slipping out from the depths of his mind and he can't even see if it's really her. he swings the gun towards her though his aim is slightly off.
he blinks, still trying desperately to get his eyesight to clear up but there's blackness, darkness, nothing. he swallows, fingers tightening around the gun until his knuckles turn white.
he doesn't say anything to her, eyes cast down since he can't see her anyway so he tries to hide what his own eyes look like. )
[ there's no way of knowing how long he might have been gone. it could have been three days, or it could have been three years, just like her, or maybe even more. so there's no guarantee he even knows her even more, or if he'd passed it all off like an actual dream like she had.
but something about him seems off, more unsteady with that gun than she knows him to be, more panicked.
he won't even look at her, and she can't say for sure if it's because he doesn't know her at all or because something's very wrong. ]
Amos, look, it's me. [ she keeps talking, hands up in the air in surrender, trying to duck her head to catch his eyes. ] It's ... it's Addy.
( he knows that name. he'd tried to convince himself that he didn't when he'd been back on the ship, back with the people who needed him because that made it easier to keep going.
he told himself it wasn't real, he was just over tired and exhausted from everything and he'd created some elaborate situation in his head.
but now he was back and she was there and her voice is so familiar that he aches, that he's angry about it. and he can't see her. amos knows she's not lying because he knows her but her words come at him from a black void and he swings the gun a bit, back and forth.
his eyes flick up, trying to follow the sound of her voice automatically before he catches himself and averts them again. )
I know who you are.
( he does. he knows her. he'd opened himself up to her more than anyone else here though he knows he could have done more.
but still, he doesn't lower the gun. he can't seem to make that happen. )
[ suddenly, she's terrified, not of the gun in his hand but of somehow being forgotten, finally understanding the fear that comes in being on the other side. but she hadn't come back like this, even if she had been different than who she was when she'd left; with how little she'd known about him before, she can't imagine what else might have happened to him now.
but she doesn't relent, even if she takes caution with approaching him, keeping her steps slow and careful, if only not to alert him too much.
i know who you are.
she swallows, taking a breath but she doesn't feel anymore eased just yet. ]
( he doesn't have an answer to her question. not a good one, at least. for his own survival and well being, he's made himself think very little of her over the last however long it's been and now that she's in front of him again (he assumes), he can't stop himself from expecting her to disappear or leave.
it's what everyone did. he wishes he could see her though. he wants to see her but every time he forgets what's happened to him and raises his head like his eyes will suddenly work, he just sees black nothingness. he can't even see the green haze that had been there when these...things had been taking his eyesight away.
the gun dips just slightly but he doesn't let go. )
I'm not.
( his eyes once again try and find her, try and see her and fail. this time, his gaze doesn't move away despite the fact that he can't see her. )
Where am I?
( was he back in that town? was he dreaming again or had he woken up? he's disoriented and it's only made worse because he can't see and his other sense aren't making up for that loss yet. )
[ she begins to notice that he never looks directly at her, only in the general direction of where she is, and only when she manages to speak. it's another sign that something is wrong, though at the very least, she does lower his gun just enough that it won't land a hit if he does shoot. ]
You're in Deerington.
[ she takes another step towards him, slowly, and watches him to see if he follows her movements as he'd tend to. ]
You woke up in your apartment and you ran out here. We're not far from it.
[ another slow step, boots gentle on the pavement. ]
Amos ... [ her voice is quiet, steady and calm even if she's overwhelmed with concern within. ] Amos, can you see me?
( he strains to listen to her movements, trying to pinpoint where she is in relation to him. he doesn't raise the gun up again but he does shift a bit, trying to keep her in front of him since he's useless if someone gets behind him now.
he can hear the sound of boots scuffing the ground and he focuses there, blinking and watching the spot where he thinks she might be. he can't tell, he could be off and the frustration rises again.
it would be easy to back away, he thinks. move, run, go somewhere that he can't be found but where would that even be? how would he even get there?
she asks him something and he knows he's not going to be able to lie about this. he can't cover up blindness so instead, he doesn't say anything. his breathing is rough, strained, and so loud to his own ears.
words fail so he gives his head he tiniest shake to tell her that no, he can't see her. the admittance is enough to make his fingers tighten around the rifle again, palms sweaty and dirty but solid. he can't see but he can still pull a trigger. )
[ she's scared of the answer, but she thinks she already knows it by the language of his body, by the shift of his eyes lacking focus, by the panic in his movements. when he shakes his head, she feels her throat tightening, trying to swallow to keep herself steady. one of them should be.
there'll be questions about what's happened to him, how he got to be like this, but that can come later. ]
I'm gonna reach out for you, okay?
[ best that he knows it before she surprises him and he ends up pulling that trigger on her. she would too if she lost sight in both eyes. ]
It's just me. Nobody else. No weapons. I wouldn't hurt you. You know that. [ still, she's careful when she approaches him, taking it slow when she holds her around out, fingers gentle when they brush his wrist. ]
( he does know that. it's always been him that does the hurting,, him that's the aggressor whenever something happen. she reacts but she's never hurt him. it's always been him.
tension thrums through him when her fingers move against his wrist and he has to fight not to react. he keeps the gun pointed low and though his eyes do flick up briefly just to try and figure out where she is, he looks away quickly.
he'd spent the last however many months trying to put this place out of his head, trying to bury it and now he's desperately trying to remember it so he can remind himself of how her touch feels, how she sounds and what she looks like. maybe she looks different or maybe she doesn't.
he swallows, unsure of what to say or if he should say anything. )
I can't see you.
( his voice is rough and strained when it comes but it's something. it's words. )
[ she doesn't know how he'll respond to touch like this, but though he seems to tense up when she first makes contact, he doesn't fight her away. being closer to him now, she can catch the difference in his eyes, a faint flicker of green and a far off look that can't quite seem to focus on anything at all. ]
It's still me.
[ something's changed for him, and though she's not sure where the blindness has come from, if it's a permanent change or something temporary, she can see the way he's shaken, so she tries to give some assurance of something familiar.
she won't pry him away from the gun, but she does try to ease one of his hands into hers, taking it careful and slow before she guides him to her face, easing his fingers to her cheek. ] Feel that?
( he's grateful that she let's himself keep one hand on the gun. he doesn't know if he's ready to just let it go completely so he's glad she doesn't try and make him.
he does loosen his hold though, letting her take his hand, letting her move it to her face where he settles his fingers gently. he does remember this. it's been awhile, months for him, and where he's tried to put this away, it all starts trickling back now. )
Yeah. ( he feels that. it's still her even if he hasn't seen her or touched her in months. it's still her and his hand remembers how it felt to do this. he keeps his touch light, fingers barely brushing against her cheek. )
I feel it. ( he looks up to where it sounds like she is and once again, wishes he could see her. he'd thought about her every so often, when he was alone and needed it but now that's all he has, isn't it? )
Did I hurt you? ( he knows he'd been swinging his gun around wildly when he'd gotten out here and he thinks he'd hit something but he's not sure if it was her. )
[ she knows the familiarity that comes with gripping a weapon, the same way she'd constantly feel at ease with her z-whacker in hand, even if she had no intention on making use of it, relaxed just knowing she'd be prepared if something came out that would require her to fight back.
right now, though, all she has her hands on is him, gentle as she guides his fingers to her face; she's felt the caress of his palms to her features before, so maybe he's memorized enough to know her by touch. she hopes so. ]
No. I'm good. [ he did knock her a bit, but it's nothing that still aches now, nothing so brutal that it'd bother her.
besides, he's facing something a little more concerning now. she continues to watch his eyes, as if maybe she could find an answer there.
all she could do though, is ask the inevitable question. ] What ... what happened to you?
( he's expecting the question. he knows that she was bound to ask him because he hadn't been like this before and now he was. amos doesn't know if he wants to answer.
there's a simple, straight to the point answer and there's something longer that gives more background and more context as to what he'd gone through since he'd fallen asleep or unconscious or whatever happened to him.
he doesn't pull his hand away from her face, letting himself have that connection even if that darkness continues to try and engulf him. )
Alien parasite. ( he wishes he could see her, see her reaction, see if there's pity or concern or nothing at all there but darkness. )
We were sheltering from an earthquake and a tsunami and we picked the wrong place.
( he would have preferred the earthquake over this. maybe he would have died but maybe not. he'd survived worse things. )
[ if he chooses not to tell her, she won't blame him for it, won't even push for an explanation. but she's not sure if this is something that can be fixed somehow, if he's had this for ages now, or if he's experiencing it fresh for the first time now. hell, she doesn't even know if it's been days, weeks, months, or years for him.
the assuring part is that he still has his eyes, unlike when she'd lost hers completely. so maybe this wouldn't be permanent.
then again, when he answers, she's not quite sure what to do with it. alien parasites aren't really something she knows all too much about. ]
Has it been long? [ she realizes only after she asks, she could mean the blindness or even his time away from here, though the latter doesn't feel as important, or maybe it just shouldn't be. ]
( he shakes his head again. he'd barely gotten a chance to adjust to what happened before he was back here. he'd watched the same thing happen to the settlers, trying to ignore that it was happening to him.
until it did. )
A few...hours.
( he remembers his vision fogging up and then leaving him completely. he remembers sitting down and holden talking to him and then waking up here. )
I can't — I can't deal with it. ( the calm that she'd managed to bring to him seems to evaporate and he drops his hand, stepping back and grabbing for the gun again. he doesn't raise it to train it on her but he doesn't know what else to do but keep a hold of it and defend himself. )
It's too dark. ( he remembers the dark, he remembers what happens. ) It's too dark.
[ she seemed to have settled him somehow, but whatever momentary sense of ease he'd found had only been temporary, and with the withdrawing of his fingers from his cheek, she can feel him sleeping away in more ways than one. ]
Hey, hey, hey! [ but she's quick to respond too, her own hands reaching out this time, palms across his cheek as she tries to keep him focused on her. ]
Listen to me. We'll deal with this together, okay? Whatever this — whatever this is, we'll find a way to fix it.
[ not that she knows how, but while deerington has its curses, it has its fixes too. ]
But I'm not leaving you until we do. You hear me? Until then, I will be your eye and I will keep you safe. I promise.
( if there's one thing he can say for her right now it's that she's not afraid. not afraid of him being wild with a gun, of being angry and upset about something that was out of his hands now. she knew something about his past, about his affinity to default to violence and she still stepped closer and caught his face in her hands.
he half expects to finally see her when she does that but he doesn't. while his eyes don't focus, they do still and he tries to calm himself down as well even if he wants to scream and lash out at everything. )
Why?
( he grounds that word out between a too tight jaw. why is she going to help him with something like this? why does she want to put herself in that line of fire voluntarily?
and why was it so hard for him to accept what she was offering? )
[ she could be daring and reckless without a second thought, and it'd been much of the same when she'd stood in front of him, feeling the barrel of his gun pressed against her forehead, his finger ready on the trigger. maybe enough years in the apocalypse had taught her how to act despite fear, or maybe she's just convinced he won't actually shoot her.
whether it's stupid or genuine trust doesn't matter because it all leads to her snagging his face in her hands despite the gun he holds; she can't get him to look at her, but she can at least try to assure him that she isn't going anywhere. ]
Because I — listen, I don't know how long it's been for you. And I may just be some far distant memory in your past, and I get it if you've moved on from ... whatever we had, because I know how it goes when you leave and put this place behind you.
[ she'd done it too, and she knows when she came back, she hadn't been the same person. ]
But I haven't changed. I still care about you and I promised you before that I wouldn't let you deal with your shit alone, okay?
( it takes the words she's saying a few long moments to process. he doesn't pull away from her but tension continues to thrum through him, making him stiff and uncomfortable.
but her words, at least, permeate his anger and rage and fear. he'd told her once he hadn't really been afraid since he was five but here he was now, trying to shy away from what was happening. )
I tried to forget you. ( he knows how that sounds but it's the truth. he had to put it all inside a box just to deal with everything else. ) I tried to forget you and this place.
( convince himself it was a dream and move on. go back to his fucking life and be who he was before this fucking place.
he shakes his head but not so hard that he'd dislodge her hands. )
I still know who you are. ( he remembered. he remembers. he's different but it hasn't been so long that he'd managed to fully phase this place out. ) But you don't have to do this. It's not...it's my problem.
[ this isn't about whether they're together or not, or whatever it is that they were; she's known since the moment he ended up in that cocoon skin that things were going to be different in one way or another whenever (and if) he came back.
he admits to wanting to forget, and though there's a clenching tightness in her chest, she knows she'd done the very same thing when she went back, trying to keep thoughts of this place, of dana, far in the back of her mind, like if imagining it to be a dream would protect her somehow.
now that it's reversed, all she can do is try to ease him through it, at the very least, as a friend. ]
You're still a stubborn asshole, you know that?
[ but her voice isn't harsh, simply sighing as she curls her fingers against his cheek. ]
If you still know who I am, then you know I'm not leaving you.
( there's not a lot he can say to that, is there? he could, he knows, push her away and force that distance between them but if she's as stubborn as he is, then while she might let that happen right now, he doesn't think she'd let it be permanent.
he takes a noisy, strained breath, trying not to flinch away from her despite how he hated not be able to see anything but that all too familiar darkness.
he sags a bit, shaking his head in a last ditch, weak attempt to give her an out. )
You're an asshole too.
( and she might be more stubborn than he is all things considered. he blinks a few times, still trying to trigger something in his eyes that would clear this up and let him see again. )
[ they were both their own brand of assholes, but in a way that's probably part of what made her like him in the first place; maybe it's what he liked about her. because despite that, there's still good in him, something still genuine that it makes it so damn hard to give up on him. ]
And you could try. [ to no real avail. because she's definitely as stubborn as him. ] But we both know how that's going to end up.
[ with her still here, probably. ]
Let me at least stay and help you until we figure this out. After that ... after that, you can make up your mind whether you still want me around or not.
( for a second, he considers actually taking up that challenge an trying to make her walk away. he knows he has it in him, the cruelty and anger and aggression but that dark thought never gets further than a brief run through his mind.
he exhales, rubbing at his eyes even if it does nothing that he knows of. it just feels like something he has to do, should do. it feels normal. )
Fine.
( even through his own fog of uncertainty and irritation, he can hear something in how she says those final words that he wants to question but he doesn't. not right now. he can't focus and he knows his mood isn't good for a talk like that.
so, he just...let's it be. )
You can stay.
( he nods slightly, lips still turned down in a frown. but it's agreement. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
slaps your sorrys right back
pulling out a hair pin to begin fidgeting at his lock, she mutters to herself first about how crazy it is to do this outside of the apocalypse, but she also affirms that she could apologize later for the crazy of it. because right now, making sure he wasn't dead was the priority.
to her relief, he isn't dead; to her horror, it could be something worse.
she knows the vein-covered skin-like material that coats his body, knows it because she'd found remnants of the same thing when she'd woken back up in deerington after three years gone. whatever the hell it is, she knows what it means, and while she can see him lying right there, he isn't there at all — he's back in his world.
however long that's meant for, she assumes that since his body is there, he will come back, though the timeline of it is a mystery itself, since she'd been gone two weeks from this world before she'd settled back in. for now, the least she can do is make sure he's safe, make sure nothing happens to his body in the meanwhile. trying not to think of the circumstances, of what it means for him to be gone now, or what anything will mean when he does come back, she focuses on the now as she always does, feeding audrey some water and keeping him safe.
eventually, though, when she makes her rounds again back to his apartment, he isn't there, evidence of that vein material on the floor hinting of his wake. swearing under her breath, she races out, hoping he hasn't gone too far, that he isn't so completely out of his realm to wake up to all of this alone.
what she finds, though, is a sight all too familiar, something she'd hoped they'd put behind them, crazed eyes and a gun tight in his grip, ready to shoot if someone makes the wrong move. ]
Am— [ before she can get the word out, he's already swinging, gun smacking hard against her shoulder, drawing out a pained grunt before she sees it held unsteady, ready to shoot in her direction. ] Amos, stop! It's me!
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and now, that voice was slipping out from the depths of his mind and he can't even see if it's really her. he swings the gun towards her though his aim is slightly off.
he blinks, still trying desperately to get his eyesight to clear up but there's blackness, darkness, nothing. he swallows, fingers tightening around the gun until his knuckles turn white.
he doesn't say anything to her, eyes cast down since he can't see her anyway so he tries to hide what his own eyes look like. )
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but something about him seems off, more unsteady with that gun than she knows him to be, more panicked.
he won't even look at her, and she can't say for sure if it's because he doesn't know her at all or because something's very wrong. ]
Amos, look, it's me. [ she keeps talking, hands up in the air in surrender, trying to duck her head to catch his eyes. ] It's ... it's Addy.
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he told himself it wasn't real, he was just over tired and exhausted from everything and he'd created some elaborate situation in his head.
but now he was back and she was there and her voice is so familiar that he aches, that he's angry about it. and he can't see her. amos knows she's not lying because he knows her but her words come at him from a black void and he swings the gun a bit, back and forth.
his eyes flick up, trying to follow the sound of her voice automatically before he catches himself and averts them again. )
I know who you are.
( he does. he knows her. he'd opened himself up to her more than anyone else here though he knows he could have done more.
but still, he doesn't lower the gun. he can't seem to make that happen. )
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but she doesn't relent, even if she takes caution with approaching him, keeping her steps slow and careful, if only not to alert him too much.
i know who you are.
she swallows, taking a breath but she doesn't feel anymore eased just yet. ]
Then why are you still holding the gun at me?
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it's what everyone did. he wishes he could see her though. he wants to see her but every time he forgets what's happened to him and raises his head like his eyes will suddenly work, he just sees black nothingness. he can't even see the green haze that had been there when these...things had been taking his eyesight away.
the gun dips just slightly but he doesn't let go. )
I'm not.
( his eyes once again try and find her, try and see her and fail. this time, his gaze doesn't move away despite the fact that he can't see her. )
Where am I?
( was he back in that town? was he dreaming again or had he woken up? he's disoriented and it's only made worse because he can't see and his other sense aren't making up for that loss yet. )
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You're in Deerington.
[ she takes another step towards him, slowly, and watches him to see if he follows her movements as he'd tend to. ]
You woke up in your apartment and you ran out here. We're not far from it.
[ another slow step, boots gentle on the pavement. ]
Amos ... [ her voice is quiet, steady and calm even if she's overwhelmed with concern within. ] Amos, can you see me?
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he can hear the sound of boots scuffing the ground and he focuses there, blinking and watching the spot where he thinks she might be. he can't tell, he could be off and the frustration rises again.
it would be easy to back away, he thinks. move, run, go somewhere that he can't be found but where would that even be? how would he even get there?
she asks him something and he knows he's not going to be able to lie about this. he can't cover up blindness so instead, he doesn't say anything. his breathing is rough, strained, and so loud to his own ears.
words fail so he gives his head he tiniest shake to tell her that no, he can't see her. the admittance is enough to make his fingers tighten around the rifle again, palms sweaty and dirty but solid. he can't see but he can still pull a trigger. )
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there'll be questions about what's happened to him, how he got to be like this, but that can come later. ]
I'm gonna reach out for you, okay?
[ best that he knows it before she surprises him and he ends up pulling that trigger on her. she would too if she lost sight in both eyes. ]
It's just me. Nobody else. No weapons. I wouldn't hurt you. You know that. [ still, she's careful when she approaches him, taking it slow when she holds her around out, fingers gentle when they brush his wrist. ]
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tension thrums through him when her fingers move against his wrist and he has to fight not to react. he keeps the gun pointed low and though his eyes do flick up briefly just to try and figure out where she is, he looks away quickly.
he'd spent the last however many months trying to put this place out of his head, trying to bury it and now he's desperately trying to remember it so he can remind himself of how her touch feels, how she sounds and what she looks like. maybe she looks different or maybe she doesn't.
he swallows, unsure of what to say or if he should say anything. )
I can't see you.
( his voice is rough and strained when it comes but it's something. it's words. )
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It's still me.
[ something's changed for him, and though she's not sure where the blindness has come from, if it's a permanent change or something temporary, she can see the way he's shaken, so she tries to give some assurance of something familiar.
she won't pry him away from the gun, but she does try to ease one of his hands into hers, taking it careful and slow before she guides him to her face, easing his fingers to her cheek. ] Feel that?
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he does loosen his hold though, letting her take his hand, letting her move it to her face where he settles his fingers gently. he does remember this. it's been awhile, months for him, and where he's tried to put this away, it all starts trickling back now. )
Yeah. ( he feels that. it's still her even if he hasn't seen her or touched her in months. it's still her and his hand remembers how it felt to do this. he keeps his touch light, fingers barely brushing against her cheek. )
I feel it. ( he looks up to where it sounds like she is and once again, wishes he could see her. he'd thought about her every so often, when he was alone and needed it but now that's all he has, isn't it? )
Did I hurt you? ( he knows he'd been swinging his gun around wildly when he'd gotten out here and he thinks he'd hit something but he's not sure if it was her. )
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right now, though, all she has her hands on is him, gentle as she guides his fingers to her face; she's felt the caress of his palms to her features before, so maybe he's memorized enough to know her by touch. she hopes so. ]
No. I'm good. [ he did knock her a bit, but it's nothing that still aches now, nothing so brutal that it'd bother her.
besides, he's facing something a little more concerning now. she continues to watch his eyes, as if maybe she could find an answer there.
all she could do though, is ask the inevitable question. ] What ... what happened to you?
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there's a simple, straight to the point answer and there's something longer that gives more background and more context as to what he'd gone through since he'd fallen asleep or unconscious or whatever happened to him.
he doesn't pull his hand away from her face, letting himself have that connection even if that darkness continues to try and engulf him. )
Alien parasite. ( he wishes he could see her, see her reaction, see if there's pity or concern or nothing at all there but darkness. )
We were sheltering from an earthquake and a tsunami and we picked the wrong place.
( he would have preferred the earthquake over this. maybe he would have died but maybe not. he'd survived worse things. )
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the assuring part is that he still has his eyes, unlike when she'd lost hers completely. so maybe this wouldn't be permanent.
then again, when he answers, she's not quite sure what to do with it. alien parasites aren't really something she knows all too much about. ]
Has it been long? [ she realizes only after she asks, she could mean the blindness or even his time away from here, though the latter doesn't feel as important, or maybe it just shouldn't be. ]
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until it did. )
A few...hours.
( he remembers his vision fogging up and then leaving him completely. he remembers sitting down and holden talking to him and then waking up here. )
I can't — I can't deal with it. ( the calm that she'd managed to bring to him seems to evaporate and he drops his hand, stepping back and grabbing for the gun again. he doesn't raise it to train it on her but he doesn't know what else to do but keep a hold of it and defend himself. )
It's too dark. ( he remembers the dark, he remembers what happens. ) It's too dark.
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Hey, hey, hey! [ but she's quick to respond too, her own hands reaching out this time, palms across his cheek as she tries to keep him focused on her. ]
Listen to me. We'll deal with this together, okay? Whatever this — whatever this is, we'll find a way to fix it.
[ not that she knows how, but while deerington has its curses, it has its fixes too. ]
But I'm not leaving you until we do. You hear me? Until then, I will be your eye and I will keep you safe. I promise.
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he half expects to finally see her when she does that but he doesn't. while his eyes don't focus, they do still and he tries to calm himself down as well even if he wants to scream and lash out at everything. )
Why?
( he grounds that word out between a too tight jaw. why is she going to help him with something like this? why does she want to put herself in that line of fire voluntarily?
and why was it so hard for him to accept what she was offering? )
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whether it's stupid or genuine trust doesn't matter because it all leads to her snagging his face in her hands despite the gun he holds; she can't get him to look at her, but she can at least try to assure him that she isn't going anywhere. ]
Because I — listen, I don't know how long it's been for you. And I may just be some far distant memory in your past, and I get it if you've moved on from ... whatever we had, because I know how it goes when you leave and put this place behind you.
[ she'd done it too, and she knows when she came back, she hadn't been the same person. ]
But I haven't changed. I still care about you and I promised you before that I wouldn't let you deal with your shit alone, okay?
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but her words, at least, permeate his anger and rage and fear. he'd told her once he hadn't really been afraid since he was five but here he was now, trying to shy away from what was happening. )
I tried to forget you. ( he knows how that sounds but it's the truth. he had to put it all inside a box just to deal with everything else. ) I tried to forget you and this place.
( convince himself it was a dream and move on. go back to his fucking life and be who he was before this fucking place.
he shakes his head but not so hard that he'd dislodge her hands. )
I still know who you are. ( he remembered. he remembers. he's different but it hasn't been so long that he'd managed to fully phase this place out. ) But you don't have to do this. It's not...it's my problem.
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he admits to wanting to forget, and though there's a clenching tightness in her chest, she knows she'd done the very same thing when she went back, trying to keep thoughts of this place, of dana, far in the back of her mind, like if imagining it to be a dream would protect her somehow.
now that it's reversed, all she can do is try to ease him through it, at the very least, as a friend. ]
You're still a stubborn asshole, you know that?
[ but her voice isn't harsh, simply sighing as she curls her fingers against his cheek. ]
If you still know who I am, then you know I'm not leaving you.
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he takes a noisy, strained breath, trying not to flinch away from her despite how he hated not be able to see anything but that all too familiar darkness.
he sags a bit, shaking his head in a last ditch, weak attempt to give her an out. )
You're an asshole too.
( and she might be more stubborn than he is all things considered. he blinks a few times, still trying to trigger something in his eyes that would clear this up and let him see again. )
I could make you leave.
( but he doesn't. )
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[ they were both their own brand of assholes, but in a way that's probably part of what made her like him in the first place; maybe it's what he liked about her. because despite that, there's still good in him, something still genuine that it makes it so damn hard to give up on him. ]
And you could try. [ to no real avail. because she's definitely as stubborn as him. ] But we both know how that's going to end up.
[ with her still here, probably. ]
Let me at least stay and help you until we figure this out. After that ... after that, you can make up your mind whether you still want me around or not.
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he exhales, rubbing at his eyes even if it does nothing that he knows of. it just feels like something he has to do, should do. it feels normal. )
Fine.
( even through his own fog of uncertainty and irritation, he can hear something in how she says those final words that he wants to question but he doesn't. not right now. he can't focus and he knows his mood isn't good for a talk like that.
so, he just...let's it be. )
You can stay.
( he nods slightly, lips still turned down in a frown. but it's agreement. )