Duplicity IC Contact

[bothbarrels]

 I suppose if you've reached this message I'm not around to accept your contact.
So, you can just leave it here, and I'll be sure to contact you back as soon as I can.

Comments

[ownperson]

Technically, I didn't call you a condescending prick. I called you a condescending asshole. There's a difference.

[ It's an attempt at humour, but it's strained. She sighs, again, digs her teeth into the inside of her cheek. Something in her chest twinges, and she dares to hope that's a little sign of progress, but she's equally prepared for the other shoe to drop and find out it's a somehow backhanded admission. ]

But— yeah. Yeah, that's...

...I would've come anyway if you'd explained, you know. Or— or I think I would've. This me would've, I guess. I can't speak for her anymore.

[bothbarrels]

I felt...at the time...like I didn't have the time to. But that doesn't excuse it. And I, I really am sorry, now. That it happened.

[ He's not crying, not like when they were having the original conversation, but he's pink around the eyes. ]

I...don't think I ever did really explain the entire situation properly after that, either. At the time, it felt like I'd done what I needed to and the rest didn't matter.

[ownperson]

[ She can't fully let her guard down yet, she just can't. These conversations take rapid turns too easily. But her face softens a little, and she won't admit it aloud but he was right that an apology right then and there when she mentioned it wouldn't have felt genuine. This... feels less forced. Not perfect, no, but less forced. ]

Yeah. Yeah, that's... that's kinda what I figured. S'like me and York were saying, y'know. You decide you're in the right, and nothing outside that fuckin' matters anymore. Just gets thrown out with the trash.

...s'nice to hear you apologise, though. Thank you.

[bothbarrels]

Yeah. You're welcome.

[ He's frowning still, though. ]

You... If...

[ He clears his throat and swipes at his eyes again. ]

It's... it's like this. Part of me feels like it's really shitty that I'm apologizing for something when you did worse. But it's just...the problem with it is, it's my fault in the first place. The whole situation.

[ He jabs himself in the chest with his thumb for emphasis. ]

My. Fault.

[ Now he is on the verge of tears. Which is not something he wants to be, here in the gym. He presses his lips into a line and makes a few little head jiggles that make it apparent he meant to continue talking, but also his face is on the verge of crumpling if he tries to spit out any more words. ]

[ownperson]

...Drew. Come on.

[ God, fuck's sake, that's not— some bitter part of her wants to point out that for all that what she did was worse, only one of them has ever caused direct, physical damage to the other, the rest of her wants to scream because that's not what she said. That's not—

There really is always something. She sighs, steps closer to rest her hands on his arms. ]

Look at me.

That's not what I fucking said. That's not how this works. That's not... what I did is my fault. Because I did it.

[ There's something else on the tip of her tongue that she just doesn't have the words for. Something about this just makes her think again of how he admitted he can't seem to let her face the consequences of her actions. ]

[bothbarrels]

[ He looks at her when she says to, but then shakes his head, dipping it and swiping helplessly at his leaking eyes. This is embarrassing and also not helpful to the whole situation. He clears his throat hard, trying to get his composure back.

After a few deep breaths through his nose, he manages: ]

You were there 'cause o' me, though.

[ownperson]

Yeah, I was. But I could've left, y'know. I could've done literally anything except what I did but I still did it. That's not your fucking fault.

[ She squeezes his arms where her hands are rested. ]

Fuck, Drew, there's a lot of things that are your fault, okay? There are. But that isn't— that literally fucking can't be one of them.

[bothbarrels]

[ He's not past the sniffling and the stifling of his crying. He's fucking embarrassed because, of course, people are looking. Not hard to miss a couple of giants having a private talk in the middle of a gym. He shakes his head again, blowing out a sigh after a few aborted attempts to take another deep breath. ]

I just feel like shit that you were alone after trying to... You said, you were just trying to get your brother back and...

[ Though who knows what that would have looked like, with Theta having been taken? All he knows is he feels horrible that South was left alone after all that. ]

[ownperson]

Yeah, I tried to get my brother back by letting him get hurt instead of any other fucking solution. Sure, you really, really sucked at listening to me but that's still not...

[ She groans. Dropping her head forward, she breathes out, in, out again, then lifts her head. ]

...do you wanna go back to your room or something?

[ She'd just as soon give everyone in the place death glares to make them back the fuck off and stop staring, not that she's sure that'd work on most of the clientele here, but. ]

[bothbarrels]

We can walk.

[ Outside would be better, being home would be better, anything that's not being stared at in the middle of the gym. ]

[ownperson]

Okay, c'mon, let's get our shit and go, okay?

[ She gives his arms another squeeze, and throws everyone looking at them a death glare anyway for good measure as she turns to go grab their stuff. Starts unwrapping her hands on the way.

As soon as they have their things, they head outside and she bumps him with her hip in lie of squeezing his hand or something. ]

...at least it wasn't, like, yelling?

[bothbarrels]

[ He has his bag on his shoulder and is staring down toward the sidewalk as they make their way along. ]

I'm crying.

[ As sensitive as a guy he is, he knows most of the types who frequent places like Patch's are not into seeing men cry. ]

[ownperson]

So, you're saying I should've just started yelling?

[ It's another weak attempt at humour and she can feel it fail even as she says it. She sighs, shifts a bit so she can wrap her arm around his back without stopping them walking. ]

...sorry. But anyone who'd be a dick about it can go fuck themselves.

[bothbarrels]

Yeah. I know.

[ As much as he'll feel that later, it helps to have her say it, because he was embarrassed. ]

[ownperson]

[ She'd be fucking mortified if she'd started crying and nothing would change her mind, so she gets it. She gives him a squeeze, bumps his shoulder with her head. She's going to wait until they're back in his room to even think about starting this back up again.

Once they're there, she lets him put his bag down and stand, sit, wherever he wants, before firmly but gently repeating a sentiment from the last time they were talking about this: ]

Me being alone was entirely my own fault, Drew. Entirely. I was alone because of my own selfish fucking choices, just like I probably fucking died because of my own selfish fucking choices, and none of that is your fault. None of it is something for you to fucking feel bad for.

[ She absolutely does not catch what comes out of her mouth in the middle there. ]

[bothbarrels]

[ He had chosen to move to the couch, and he stares at her after she says what she says. He's had enough time now to stop sniveling, and he blinks at her. ]

Are you just saying 'she died the way she lived' or are you saying you know something about it?

[ownperson]

[ ...oh, shit.

He gives her an easy out. Right there. Right in front of her face. Just say yeah, sure, that's what I mean, I mean that if there's a me out there still living out her life then she probably dies one day because she fucked up again. Easy.

One problem: her poker face doesn't exist if she doesn't put real effort into putting it on. She doesn't have the chance to wipe the deer in the headlights look off her mug before it's obvious. ]

Uh. Yeah. The first thing. Y'know. Back home I wouldn't've ever gotten this kinda kick up the ass, so...

[ Convincing. Absolutely, totally convincing. ]

[bothbarrels]

[ He doesn't believe her. ]

Anja...

[ownperson]

...fuck.

[ She buries her face in her hands to muffle a wordless, frustrated noise as she does an aborted 180 turn. Thinking to herself: way to fucking go, Anja, you decide against telling him on purpose in proper words, only for your fucking mouth to start moving faster than your goddamned fucking brain again. ]

[bothbarrels]

[ He catches her arm as she turns. ]

Anja, tell me.

[ownperson]

[ She looks at him, for a long moment. Doesn't pull her arm from his grip. Then she tears her eyes away to stare anywhere but his face. ]

I— [ she makes an aborted little noise, grits her teeth ] You weren't meant to find out like this. For fuck's—

[ She drops off into indistinct mumbles, hisses air between her teeth. ]

...yeah. Okay. I fuckin'— I fuckin' died. Apparently.

[bothbarrels]

[ He keeps his hand there. ]

Apparently how?

[ownperson]

I've only heard about it third fucking hand, okay? I didn't... I got pulled to the rig before it happened.

[ She hasn't lived it. She hasn't lived it, but she knows all the details. It's just that she knows too damn well that sharing those details will put a mark on someone else. ]

[bothbarrels]

[ His other hand goes to her other arm. ]

You heard about what?

[ownperson]

Drew...

[ Fuuuuuuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He's as stubborn as she is sometimes and fuck right now she wishes he wasn't. Wash is here, she can't just... ]

I fucking pushed my luck and got a bullet in the face for it, okay?! I— I just—

[ She probably deserved it. She probably fucking deserved it. ]