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 Posted: Sun Apr 18, 2010 8:53 pm
She stood in the parking lot after they left, shaking in silence. Alive. She was alive--they hadn't even tried to hurt her. There was euphoria, the aftermath of an adrenaline rush, and she took a few more shaking breaths before crouching to pick up the note from where it had fallen. It took a few tries, her fingers were shaking so badly, but she managed to shove it back into her pocket. Then she started off for home, stumbling a few times on uncertain feet.
Still, she made it home in one piece as the euphoria of the mere fact she was alive wore off. She shut the door quietly, hurried the short space to her room. Her shoes didn't even make it off her feet before she hurled herself onto her bed, clutched her pillow and began to cry. The window was still open, though she didn't notice.
How could anyone think she'd wanted to see that blue-haired midget ever again? What Tate wanted to do was forget it had ever happened, that anything had happened, or at least to forget the specifics, remember enough to hide from it in the future. Things didn't rattle her if she'd seen them before--probably she could watch someone being drawn and quartered and never flinch. She had watched the amputation scene in Master and Commander without flinching once. Hands disappearing into chests she'd never seen done. Not in a game, not in a movie, not in real life, not until a hand had been disappearing into her own chest.
That was not supposed to happen. She buried her face in the pillow, thinking maybe if she fell asleep now she might make it to school in time for English. All she wanted was to sleep.
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Posted: Sun Apr 18, 2010 9:00 pm
Unfortunately, sleep was not something she would get. Just as he had been unaware that he had predicted wrong that Tate might want to have her attack apologize for his actions, he was also wrong that he should come and see her. Easing down the fire escape, he went to the window and stood there in the square of light as he watched Tate cry, her face buried into a pillow as she sobbed, shoulders shuttering with each shaking inhaul of breath before it rattled again. If seeing Tate scared had been painful, seeing her crying was worse. Shouldn’t she be happy that her attacker came back and apologized? Shouldn’t she feel a sense of closure in the end that she could now look back?
Apparently not, and he debated even entering the room. Would she want to see him? Would she lock the window on him and keep it closed forever?
He waited on the fire escape, before he stepped in and sat on the window ledge, not fully entering her room, but not outside either. “Tate, why are you crying? No one’s going to hurt you anymore? Didn’t you hear? That man apologized?” Didn’t she appreciate all he had done to find her attacker and bring him to her again to take responsibility for his actions?
From where he sat, he fought the urge to cross the room and hug her, but the fear of being rejected glued him as firm as the window’s molding. “Don’t cry.”
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Posted: Sun Apr 18, 2010 9:14 pm
She almost didn't hear him. She had missed him on the fire escape, for once; her ears were almost always uncannily pricked for a telltale rattle, but not right now. There was not a person in the world she wanted to see right then. Not Giselle. Not Ladon. Not Ivan, not anybody, she just wanted to cry herself out and fall asleep.
No such luck. Tate heard his voice, and dignity required that she stop crying. Her ego required that she sit up and grab the box of tissues in her nightstand rather than wiping her nose on her sleeve like she wanted to. She blew her nose, but still sounded congested and hoarse when she looked across the room to him.
Seeing Wolframite brought the panic of that moment back again, and she curled her fingers over her mouth. "I," was all she managed to choke out before curling up again, pressing her forehead to her knees. Am stupid, hopeless, human, I'm afraid, I thought you were going to turn on me. Tate said none of it, hoping against hope that he would come in or stay out. The world did not seem safe right then. The world had never seemed less safe.
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Posted: Sun Apr 18, 2010 9:42 pm
She was afraid. Still, After seeing Zink, she was terrified, and even with the apology, could barely utter a word to him. D…Damnit! Yes, Damnit. He wished he could have beaten up that brat instead for what he did to her, for the trauma she was going through. He should have stomped on his chest, choked him with his rope, and then left him on the road in hopes of someone running over him! No. He got away with a favor, but the favor that left Tate safe. She didn’t know this. All she knew was that she was afraid.
Prying himself from the window, he walked over. She was curled in much of the same way back when he talked to her in the kitchen, when she wasn’t able to talk, and was afraid. When she was this way, she almost seemed smaller than he was, but when he sat on the bed, she was just about his size, if not a little taller. Sitting, he reached out, slowly setting his hands over her to hold her. “It’s okay. I told you nothing would happen. Nothing did. Nothing will. You’re safe. You’ll always be safe when I’m around. I told you when you told me about that guy that I’d look into it, and I did. Now he’ll never lay a hand on you again. See?” See. He did good. He did exactly that he set out to do, and while it didn’t turn out as well as he had planned, he still found her attacker and kept her safe.
“Please, Tate. Don’t cry. Everything is fine. Aren’t you glad he apologized?” He tried to pull her close, waiting with held breathes to see if she would talk, say anything, or at least calm down. Still, through her crying, he noted the little nightingale in her still made it sound sadly sweet.
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Posted: Sun Apr 18, 2010 10:17 pm
She watched him approach warily, almost expecting him to reach into her chest the second he got in range of her. But he didn't; he settled onto her bed. She couldn't read his expression and if that was because of a personal failing or because of something else, she didn't know. The brunette shuddered when he touched her, but after that was quiescent.
"I see," she said, calming a little more--enough that her hands inched up to curl around his wrists. She wasn't pushing him away or pulling him closer, just wrapping her fingers a little tightly. How did she explain?...
Easy. She didn't, let go and pulled away enough to pick up a little white case on the nightstand. Each tiny little well had a little bit of clear liquid in it. "I have to take out my contacts." In a manner that tried very hard to indicate this wasn't a personal affront on Wolfram, she removed the tiny discs and put them away. If anything, her eyes were darker without them, nearing pitch black. The red around her eyes, coupled with the fact that she was still hiccuping and half-sobbing, probably helped that too.
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Posted: Sun Apr 18, 2010 10:38 pm
I see.
That was it. Barely anything. No pouring of her soul, not brief concerns, or confession of even a morsel of her feelings about anything that had happened or what she was feeling now. Just – I see. It was nothing other than a confirmation that she heard, but nothing more than that. Did he deserve more than just I see? After what he had done and continued to do, didn’t she feel able to say more than just two words to him? He tried everything to get her to speak. He was a person that she could open up to and didn’t even have to worry would tell anyone. She called his name once in the dark, and when asked, she would shy away from the reason she even wanted him there. How often did he get the impression there was more she wanted to say, but when she opened it, got nothing as he should have heard? She dodged it every time, and he felt that her entire mistrust was aggravating and undeserved. What had he done to her other than show complete attentiveness to her needs and been there whenever the moment stirred her, just in case she ever felt the need to open up. He had been there, waiting, just for any chance so that he would not miss a single secret that might slip out.
She held his wrists, not saying anything. Not pushing away but not coming closer. It was not that he was loosing ground or gaining, but always in the same spot. What progress had he made with her?
He watched with a dull expression as she changed the subject to something insignificant. Talking for the sake of talking, and she took out her contacts. Her eyes turned black, red-rimmed, and while he could see she had been crying, showing such intense emotion, even now with her eyes, her lips said nothing to him.
“Do you distrust me?” He asked, sitting there with tired eyed.
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Posted: Mon Apr 19, 2010 2:04 pm
Did she distrust him?
It was a good question. There had been a stretch of time--while they had been standing in the parking lot--where she hadn't. She thought he had betrayed her, had been terrified that she was going to die. No one had hurt her, he'd kept his promise. It always surprised her when a promise was remembered...
"I keep waiting for you to leave me," she said into her knees, dark eyes staring at the general area of his face. Without her contacts, she couldn't quite see, and she scrambled in the drawer of her bedside table for her glasses as she continued: "Everyone leaves me. No matter what, I always end up alone." Self-pitying whining, she thought. He didn't need to hear this, so she clenched her teeth against anything else, against any more tears. Brought her hands up to cover her mouth, as if that would stop.
It was pathetic, because she needed him, and now she was trying to push him away.
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Posted: Mon Apr 19, 2010 4:14 pm
If needing someone was pathetic, then no one would want to be with anyone. Tate's dependence on him was exactly what he was after, and he sat there, giving a soft smile to her fragile worries. There had been a moment where he considered leaving Tate. It even passed his mind a few moment ago, but only moments. If Tate had been one to reject him, to push him away, to offer nothing in return, then he entertained the idea of leaving her, or worse, destroying her apartment in the process of leaving. Maybe even destroying her. If she had just taken and taken with only small words in exchange, she would have been ungrateful user just like anyone else, and he didn’t want JUST anyone else. He wanted his Nightengale, the girl who sang and wouldn’t open herself to just anyone, but he did want her to open to him. Just him. He didn’t want her if he couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t run off with anyone else, and if she couldn’t even discuss anything deeper than contacts to Wolframite, then Ladon had no chance.
“I never said I was leaving. Don’t think that. Don’t I show up whenever you want to talk, and didn’t I make sure you wouldn’t be attacked? What part of that says I am going to leave?” She didn’t seem to want to be held, and if she wasn’t going to reach for him, he wasn’t going to sit around. Standing, he leaned against her nightstand. The flowers he gave her had long since died now. Did she miss them at all?
“You still don’t trust me. You think I’m going to leave, and you don’t seem to believe me at all. You were so open to believe anything I said when I was hurt. Are you only open to trust me when I’m bleeding? I killed a youma for you. Protected you for a senshi. Found your attacker and made him apologize. Insured your safety, and you have nothing to say to me than the fact that you aren’t sure I’ll stick around.” Just saying it made him look away from her. “And in the end, you don't even say much." He managed to look at her, knowing that when she watched his eyes, she often said more. "What does it take to win your trust, if I have to ask?"
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Posted: Mon Apr 19, 2010 5:09 pm
He hadn't ever said he was going to leave, that was true, but everyone always left. She uncurled herself, pushed off her bed to stand. So much of Tate's communication was nonverbal; she didn't want to talk, didn't like to talk, not about things near and dear to herself. Her shoulders hunched in a little, pulling forward like she expected a blow.
"I'm trying," she said. She had known Giselle for years and years and years, and Giselle had still left her and never tried to contact her or anything for an entire year. An entire year, now she hadn't heard from her in weeks--
She finally reached for him, curling her fingers uncertainly over his shoulder. "Don't leave me," was her answer. "Never leave me." Her face was flushing bright red, there was a tremor in her voice like she was terrified. "He scares me. I don't want to see him, or think about him, or even remember that it happened." Unspoken was don't make me.
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Posted: Mon Apr 19, 2010 6:08 pm
The push worked enough to get her to say at least more than 2 words, and even better, it pushed her into action. Naturally hesitant around anyone taller than he was and not sure if Tate was angry at him for prodding her, he pressed his back against the nightstand, wondering if she was riled up enough to shout at him for demanding more out of her than just a few syllables. When you poked an animal that usually stayed in it’s burrow to flush it out, who knew if it would bite.
Instead, she reached out and set her hands on his shoulders, looked down at him, and pleaded that she stay with him. It was better than he could have hoped! It wasn’t her spilling her soul to him, saying everything she had ever wanted to voice tumble out, but that could all come later. For now, she wanted him here and to remain here, which meant she needed him here. There was nothing more sweeter to hear that all the visits of relative silence were made up, cashed in for a nice prize.
Pleased with himself and that nudging her with the threat to leave had worked, he smiled and set a hand on her shoulder, patting it. “I won’t, as long as you need me here, and don’t worry about that man. He can never hurt you again. I made sure of that, and if anyone else bothered you, I’ll take care of that, too. That’s why you need to tell me everything.” That way he could continue to show her that he was needed for a reason and that, without him, she would be dead. He didn’t want her to forget that she needed him once the sun came up or when he didn’t visit in a few days.
“You should get to bed now. Will you be okay?” He didn’t want to go if she would just go back to sobbing into her pillow. At such a vulnerable state, it was better if he stayed around, not only to show he was there, but to be there should anything else just as exciting as what had just been admitted was said.
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Posted: Mon Apr 19, 2010 10:19 pm
She sat back down on her bed, bit her lip and nodded. "I will," she said, taking his hand to lace her fingers through his. If he was telling the truth--if he wasn't lying to her--then it was good, then she was safe, and she would always be safe. Most things, she could face without flinching. The blue-haired boy, she could not. "I promise I will."
Tate released his hand and unlaced her boots, set them in their place by the bed. She was wearing her pajamas, always had been--they were blue flannel, because nighttime was still cold. "I'll be okay." It wasn't said in a very convincing tone; in fact, it sounded like she was trying to convince herself to believe it. "I trust you." She trusted him to have done as he said, at the moment. Tate's dark eyes were a little narrow as she squinted at him, curling her bare toes in the comforter.
"Please take good care of me," she said, holding out her hand for his again.
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Posted: Mon Apr 19, 2010 10:39 pm
Moving over, he retook her hand, not knowing what she wanted other than his hand. He won her trust, at least enough for her to say so. Unless she was tested somehow, he wasn’t all that sure if it was true, but right now she needed him to be here and that was enough after a long night. At least now, he felt he made some progress in some places, maybe lost a few advantages in the Negaverse in the process, but he didn’t have the brainpower to cycle those thoughts right now.
Right now, he was going to enjoy the moment, as he always did, with Tate, letting her settle into her bed. He waited, and then helped her under the covers. When she was underneath, warm, and when he convinced her to lay down, he took her glasses from her to set them on her nightstand in easy reach, and then stood up to turn off a distant light in favor of a small light by her bed. This way, she could fall asleep. “I’ll take good care of you.” He whispered, not wanting to break the settling silence as he leaned back. Young as he was, he was getting sleepy, and had to keep himself from slipping out of consciousness as he leaned against her headboard, watching her as she watched him. The window was open, letting in a soft smell of night air. The distant sounds of the city traveling in, far off, barely touching them.
He let his fingers play with one of her hands, gently holding it as both hands rested on her comforter. Times like these, he wished he had Tate’s voice. Then he could sing her to sleep like he had done for him, but he didn’t have the voice. Instead, he just kept quiet.
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Posted: Mon Apr 19, 2010 11:04 pm
In the end, first principles were very important. You couldn't expect Mariska to care; couldn't expect Iuri to not be drunk if he wasn't on call. Couldn't expect Ivan to abandon his work, nor Giselle to leave a project if it was due in the history of Ever, not until it was done. First principles seemed to indicate, though, for once, that to Wolfram she was the most important, and she--well, she didn't really know what to do about that.
She would not question it, that was the most important thing she would do. If he wanted to value her, she would let him, gladly.
So instead of thinking about it, she let herself settle into bed, let him tuck her in and hold her hand. "Good night," she whispered, closing her eyes.
Sleep did not come particularly fast, but at least it came.
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Posted: Tue Apr 20, 2010 7:00 pm
He waited for her to close her eyes, and waited for as long as he could stand to keep his eyes open before he considered leaving. Her breathing was slow, but he couldn’t be sure if she was pretending or not. Hoping she had been tired enough, he slowly eased himself off the bed, trying his best not to disturb her, and turned the lamp off. In the dark, he went to the open window and slipped out before shutting it, not wanting anyone else coming in on her.
Outside, in the rush of wind whipping around the buildings and the loud noises of the city, the small, quite room with the sleeping girl seemed distant and locked away. He knew, somewhere in the darkness of her room, she was still sleeping, still safe, and that was enough to smile. His reflection the window’s glass came back to him, and he frowned again. He never looked good when he smiled.
Turning, he headed up the steps as quietly as he could, hoping that the rattle didn’t shake her awake, and then yawned on the roof. Exhausted didn’t even begin to describe how tired he was, and he knew he’d be fighting to keep his eyes open in class. Walking to the other end of the roof, he stepped up on the ledge and looked around before leaping off to head home.
……….and somewhere on a nearby roof, hidden in the dark, a figure rose too, paused as if to think for a moment, before turning around and jumping away.
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