thecapitol | Little angel go away but come again some other day, the devil has my ear today...

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Little angel go away but come again some other day, the devil has my ear today...

Who| Initiate and Terezi
What| Initiate seeks a friend.
Where| D3, Terezi's room.
When| The end of the sickness plot, when he's brought back from Stephen's place.
WARNINGS| Language. drug mention?

Being at Stephen's place helped. More than he'd maybe like to admit. He got out of the tower, away from the familiar. He didn't lift his head looking for things what weren't going to be there. It was easier for a while. And he thought, for just a bit, that it would be easy enough to return to where he was after.

But then he walked into district five and he couldn't stay. He fixed his paint real careful. He eased the best he could. He rescued a tribble from his room and no more, keeping it caged in his fingers and out of sight. And then he left without paying attention where he was going. All the focuses of his mind are left to trying to find holes in the capitol and the only thing that brings him out is the elevator's ding for the second floor. He stands there so very still, until the door closes again. He slams a new button, consciously this time, and dimly he thinks it's a wonder they haven't scraped the number right off or painted it over.

It occurs too late, as he stands before her door, the idea that she might not be in there. She has to be in there. If she's not he-- his thoughts don't go further than that. If she's not he's gone. The capitol will put him down and it will be over. The thought doesn't even hurt because he can't fathom it. He knocks once and his fist stays there on the door, his eyes down, watching the handle and praying it will turn.

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The knock sounds. Terezi has been lying sprawled on her bed, head dangling off the edge up-side down as she frowns pensively at the forest illuminated across her wall. It's been quiet in D3 lately. At least during the day. After the initial announcement, everyone has been so solemn. The air is heavy with the knowledge that there's no district three to fight for anymore. It presses down and weighs on her, and she's not sure that she feels like moving right now.

"The door's open," she calls. Maybe it's one of her district mates. Maybe it's an avox. Jut in case, she adds: "You can come in."

His breath catches on the exhale, as her voice sounds in his ears. With his free hand he fumbles for the door knob, and then he throws the door open. And then stands there. He stares, wordless, just tracing her face, mapping the lines on her hands, the melted sun-scorched burn of her eyes.

She got power in the arena. He almost wants to ask her if she knew. But he doesn't really think there's an answer he'd like to hear.

He thinks to turn around, but the moment he does, he knows it's not what he wants. Even the tribble is quiet now.

"DOES SHE MIND if all he gets on to stay?"

He waits, tired and worn, hair wilder than is would be, paint messier than it should be.

Does she mind, he asks, like she hasn't been trying to find him ever since she got back. She sits up suddenly, blood rushing from the motion, and she has to steady herself with a hand before she gets up.

"No," she says immediately, like she wouldn't dare let him think she'd give any other answer. "You can stay. I've...been trying to find you."

She pauses, uncertainty in her thoughts, but her heart knows what expression to give him. She knows it's not right, but there's more than a little pity in her chest for him. "I'm sorry... Kurloz. Are you going to be okay?"

She doesn't know how he can be, but she has to ask.

She's on point. Because his face twists terribly, miserably, eyes squeezing tightly shut like he's still bracing for an impact what hasn't all come yet. Or has come repeated. Finally, he shakes his head. No. No, he ain't okay. There isn't going to be an okay for him like that ever again. He's lost his moirail, his safe harbor, his love, his best friend. He's lost a serendipity that was had two lives over and never kept. He ain't going to be okay.

But like the Disciple said, he'll survive.

"WAS OUT OF TOWER," He says, starting in slow, eyes down. "Couldn't stay here, where all he was."

He moves to a corner settles down right there on the floor. He lets the tribble free-- the one she gave him-- from the cage of his hands so it may wander or simply sit there. "APOLOGIES," He says, a little late. She must've wondered if he was here at all.

She did wonder for a little while if he was here at all. But Eponine had said she trashed his room--and she checked. All his things were still there, just as she had said she left them. So she knew that he was hiding somewhere... And she couldn't really blame him.

He goes to the corner, and she climbs off the bed to join him. She sits herself in front of him, careful not to disturb the tribble...or him.

"It's okay. I knew you were here somewhere," she tells him. She doesn't touch him yet. She doesn't know if he wants her to.

"I'm...so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I wasn't sure if... I didn't want to believe it was true."

He shakes his head. "He wouldn't have believed you. KNOW IT TO BE TRUE OF YOUR WORD. But he wouldn't all have wanted to." He heaves a sigh. No, that wouldn't have been a thing he could process. After everything else, losing that hope before he got out of the arena would've been disastrous, he knows, from a purely analytical perspective. It wouldn't have hurt less either way.

"BESIDES. Reacted badly. MIGHT'VE LAIN HURT. Could've hurt you if you were near all for that." And then he wouldn't be able to face her again at all. If she lived. But Messiahs, if he had killed her he'd never be able to stand himself. He wonders if she knows all that, and then realises, he can ask, sort of.

"HOW MUCH DID YOU SEE?" He looks up at her only then.

"I saw you," she answers back, quiet but still close. "It... wasn't pretty, a lot of the different things that could have been. But I couldn't find him. In all of the futures, you were upset, and he wasn't here. So I thought maybe something had happened..." And it had. Of course it had, her visions are never wrong. Somewhere out there, each thing that she saw eventually came to pass. Including all the bad ones...

"...You wouldn't have hurt me. I can't search every timeline, there's to many, but... You wouldn't have. I know it." She touches his arm lightly, her fingers brushing against cooler skin.

He winces. Mostly because she didn't just see him at his worst, she saw worse still, all the times where he succeeded, where he tore everyone to bits, rendered the tower to gore. Or got culled first.

She says he didn't hurt her and he doesn't know if he's relieved or if he just doesn't believe her. But he takes her words and he shudders when she touches him, wanting to lean forward on someone, though it's not her. He does lean forward though. Not enough to touch but enough for his head to hang, his bangs to fall before his face, as his shoulder hike high.

"I thought... if I did well enough... it would motherfucking work. IF HE CULLED ENOUGH, IF HE DID ALL AS TO BE-- TO BE THE HIGHBLOOD." He spits the name, hisses it. And then his words break. "Then they would let me keep him... WE COULD STAY... It would be alright, I was so sure he'd be there..." He shudders again, but not because of no touch this time.

He's hurt so badly... She doesn't know what she can do. This isn't the kind of wound that she can patch up or stitch close. The Psiionic is gone. His moirail isn't here, and there's no one and nothing that can replace that.

But she wants to help. He confesses that he was trying so hard to be what the Capitol wanted of him. All of that, just to keep him around. All of that... for nothing. She reaches up, her fingers brushing across his face for a few brief seconds... Then she leans forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. She has to nearly crawl into his lap to make the reach, but she does it--clinging around his neck like she can hold him together with her own tiny form.

"I'm sorry... He didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve this. It's not fair..." It never is. Nothing here is fair, and just when she thinks that she's finally gotten used to it, they go a step further.

"I know it's not the same, but... I'll be here if you need me. For anything."

Mituna didn't. He wasn't close to deserving. Maybe he himself was-- well over-- but not Mituna, never. And mother fucking yet. And he keeps finding himself hoping he's dead and not back on Alternia for more torture, though he can't bear either.

She's not his moirail, he can't muster pale feeling for her, and he wouldn't, never. That ain't a thing that will be fixed. But she's here and that's something. And he gives to her pull, coming down closer to her as she guides him. He can rest his head upon her little shoulder.

"IT WAS GOING TO BEAUTIFUL, SISTER. One day. HE WAS GOING SO HAPPY. A lit up like a miracle. ALL EVERYTHING BAD GONE..." His arm comes around so his hand can reach her back. He whispers, "Don't go away. JUST STAY."

Edited 2014-07-18 02:38 (UTC)

Just stay. The words are whispered to her, like a secret only meant for her ears. They're words she's spoken before. Words he's spoken before. Like a promise between them. Stay.

"I will," she whispers back, hugging him tighter. She hadn't planned on going anywhere, but the desperation in his voice solidifies her determination. He needs her. If she wasn't here, she doesn't know what kind of mess he would be. She has to be the support that he needs. "I'll do everything I can. To stay here."

She won't disappear on him, not if she can help it. She doesn't have a lot of control in that regard, but her thoughts drift back to one of their other many conversations. She couldn't promise him then that she would try to win, but now... It's different now, understanding how broken he is from losing just one person. Understanding how fragile this part of him is.

"If I get the chance again... I'll take it. I'll win, if that's what you need from me."

It's shock, then disbelief what claims him first. He's still all over when he hears them words. And then he makes a noise that could eaqually be laugh, a sob, or both. His hands grips the shirt on her back.

He says, "Thank you. THANK YOU." And he is so motherfucking grateful for this singular thing. This small little promise. He speaks as though she's already won.

But it matters. It matters that she tries because then he ain't being this for nothing. He ain't trying to be better for her and... everyone, just so as he's too weak to get back up on the fall. He's either strong and alone, or weak and with people.

"He will too. WON'T SHUN NO MORE."

If there's a hope for this what ain't all false, he'll take it.

He sounds so grateful for that one little thing. That one little hope that he'll still have something when this mess is over. It hurts her somewhere deep.

"You won't lose me. Not if I can help it." She whispers it into his hair, close to his ear. She keeps hold of him, even though she's not sure what sort of thoughts are going through her head. All she knows is that he needs her, and she needs to be here for him. Any way that she can.

He says nothing in response this time. It put a shudder through him, one she might feel, but without no way to take it back.

His face burries further into the crook of her neck and shoulder. In all liklihood, spreading paint to her skin, but maybe she won't mind. Just this one time, maybe.

For that moment, he believes her. He won't lose her. They'll make it through.

He trusts this to be true.

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Little angel go away but come again some other day, the devil has my ear today...

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