hadriel | [TEXT] Backdated to August 3rd

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[TEXT] Backdated to August 3rd

[CW for alcohol/substance abuse and intense depressive talk.]

iwonder if itd supposed tobe funny
all ths shit
you nkoe? beign stuck here
not being s person no more
but not rly a ghost

they talk to u slike they arent in charge
even if its not their choice
hey talk like they cant be blamerd for it
n some of u actually eat that uyp

they took two fo mine
two of ours. down to half

dont give a fuck if theyre not doing it
i dont casre
i hope the fucking robots wipe them out
every single one of them

have fun on ur lil roadtrip

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just cause she stopped talking back didnt mean she stopped caring shes been watching all the time

[It feels risky to say, edging too close to needing to explain how she knows that the Witch had always been there. More than that, she knows his fickle moods, can look back with a clarity born of age and remember glimpses of how he used to be when things got this bad. There’s still a rise tint covering it all, even his behavior now. As much as she understands now as she barrels toward adulthood, he’s still her childhood idol. One of her parents even if she won’t say the words. No matter the risk of setting him off, it makes her want to soothe him. Save him from the kind of heartache it took her years to heal from.

That’s why his attempts to keep her away sting.]

i could be there in half an eye blink help you out and stuff until the sick passes

Edited 2018-08-20 00:20 (UTC)

[ They know too much about heartache, don't day? Unwanted friends with it, because that's how things are. How they know it had to be. It's the lack of balance that ticks it off, always frail and faint, and, right now, the scale is broken.

He can't keep trying to tape it back together.]

i know baby girl
i just need a moment
ipromise i wont fgo anywhere

[Pain's been her shadow since childhood ended. It's only been within the past half year, between Cherri's shrine and her family's return, that she's realized how pain has attached itself to other people too. They've all been damaged. She just doesn't want to believe that its beyond repair.] im downstairs so if you need me im not far never am

i know
thanks

[ He's trying harder this time. The hurt is what it is. It's not going to go away, and he isn't strong enough to deal with the guilt of abandoning her again, even if temporarily, specially with their numbers dwindling. Or, maybe, he's scared to lose someone else if he looks away for too long.

So, he's not far. Not as far as his head, his mind, as he eventually sinks into uneasy sleep.

Maybe it's a few hours, maybe a lot. He can't tell, really, when he wakes up on Kobra's bed and the world spins fast around him, and his empty stomach and full brain make sure to tell him just exactly how bad a shit job he did at making his choices.

The light's coming in different from the balcony door when he steps out into the hall, squinting and messy and staggering, but at least he makes it down the stairs relatively unharmed.]

[She thinks about replying. She types and deletes a dozen things, all platitudes that feel empty under the weight of the situation and emotional pleas that feel too raw. She leaves the message glaring up at her, dropping the device into her lap.

And she waits.

Hours pass and Girl sits on the floor in their living room, back against the legs of a beat-up chair. She dozed a little, cries a little when the pangs of loss hit her unexpectedly. But mostly she waits. Eyes on her boots, arms around her knees. She stays facing the stairwell, feeling a sentinel over whatever’s transpiring upstairs. Her job now is to make sure nothing else happens, make sure Party gets a measure of peace while he finds his way through the mires of his mind. It’s what they would have done for her and Girl is always ready to return the favor.

It doesn’t make her any less relived when he appears at the bottom step.]

Hey. You’re-hey. [She starts to stand, knees cracking from her hours of staying still. There’s an eagerness on her face, a readiness to be useful.] You need something? Something for the hangover? Food?

[ The last thing he wants is for her to feel like it's her job to pick up his pieces. Enough people do that as is - Jet being the best at it, of course, and then Ghoul out of a desperate need and devotion that Party never felt adequate in returning. But not her, not their baby girl, who's been through enough shit in a lifetime even shorter than theirs.

Stairs are difficult to navigate, you know. With a pounding head and numb legs, and a less than stellar awareness of your surroundings, at least.]

Hey. [ The word comes out hoarser than he expects, and he clears his throat, dry and stinging.

At her barrage of questions, he vaguely and gently flaps a hand]

S' okay, it's-- M' good. [ Not really and he won't be, but he'll probably live.

He pauses though, as words come slow.]

You--y'okay?

[She bites down on her lip when he starts to speak, physically trying to keep herself from interrupting. His shaky movements make her want to run forward and help him. Coddle him. Force all the broken pieces back together. But she doesn't know what her hovering presence would do but to make things worse, amplify how wrong everything has become. Girl stays put, fingers twisting into the fabric of her shirt.]

I'm, uh- [She shrugs. Her gaze drops to the floor for a second before it bounces back to someplace above his shoulder.] 'bout as good as I could be. Considerin'.

[They're down two and their leader has spent the last several hours falling apart in a dark room. Everything's too close to how things happened all those years ago. Too close again to losing everything. And it takes all her resolve not to fall back into her old habits.

She can't give Jet two messes to deal with.]

You're not gon-you're not gonna leave, are you?

[ The question hits him, sharp and painful on the center of his chest. No, he isn't leave - the urge, the instinct is there, to just run until his legs get tired, to hide in the ways he knows how when he doesn't want to be found. Even in an island, he knows how not to be found.

But he can't do that to her. Not again. Not now.

So, despite his squinting in the light, the bags under his eyes, the way he has to keep a hand on the rail at the bottom of the stairs to keep himself steady, he looks honestly worried for a second. Or, maybe, not worried - perhaps guilty? It's hard to tell.]

No--no. No. [ 'Words are hard' is a true statement when it comes to personal conversation, and his response comes unsure at first, but steady at the end.

No. He isn't leaving. It wouldn't stop hurting even if he did, and he can't break their family apart even more. Not when losing people has become a painfully literal reality.

He glances away, then gives her an unsure look. But then, he moves, moves towards her and puts a hand on her shoulder, his face pale and the bags under his eyes dark, but he looks her in the eye, for one.]

M' not goin' anywhere.

[She tries to let out the breath caught in her chest, tries to be relieved. He wouldn't lie to her. She's sure of that. But she can't get the tension to leave her bones, can't get the fear to stop gripping her insides.

Party might not lie to her, might not think he's going to go anywhere, but she's not sure anything can stop him from lying to himself.

Girl tries to reel in the panic and hurt. She tries to be steady when she looks into his face. She wills herself not to tip over and hold onto him until the empty hole left in Ghoul's absence is filled.

She tries to smile instead. Push it all down. For his sake.]

Okay. Just-we shouldn't. Not alone. Not right now. Just for a few days, okay?

[ That's not a smile. Not a real one. He can see it in her eyes, and it hurts that he sees so much of himself in her. Not that he's particularly well known to smile - but to, without words, say something you don't mean, but wish you did.

He gently squeezes her shoulders under his hands.]

I promise. [ He can tell she doesn't believe him. And he can tell that he could say he's not going anywhere, 10, 50, 500 times and there's always a 'probably' attached to his words. Because he is a panicked, hurting animal, and he can mean what he says, but the words can change at any time.

How can he fix this? How can he be the person she used to see him as, when she didn't know any better?]

I'll be here.

[Her hands fly up to grip his wrists, trying to keep him there for a moment more. Tie him to this house where she can keep an eye on him, tie him to her. She wishes that were possible. She knows it's not.]

Okay.

[Looking up at him, she sees same expression she'd seen a thousand times as a child. It's the same words she'd heard a thousand times as well. It had been a comfort and a reassurance throughout so much of her childhood. A truth held close to her chest. A guidance.

Why couldn't that be the same now? Why did she still have to feel so afraid he will slip through her fingers?

Girl pulls herself to her full height and for a moment acts selfishly. She hugs him, tight and brief. She pretends she's five again and he's the answer to all her troubles. And then she pulls away, trying to squeeze all her feelings back again into the weary shape of feeling too old for her bones.]

So will I.

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[TEXT] Backdated to August 3rd

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