ghostthatlingers | Sanctum IC Contact

That's what he got out of that? She looks horrified for a brief second before wiping it off her face in a quick shake of her head. That's almost as bad as him laughing at her. "No, I just thought you should know if you're going to spout out crap about having wanted to marry me."

"Wow, that's not fucking mixed signals or anything. Do you want me to not give a fuck about them because they're not us, or do you want me to give a fuck because we're them?" He narrows his eyes. What's the point in bringing it up, then? It doesn't change the fact that he planned what he did. "You're not comparing me to him, are you? That I feel this way because of what he felt?"

Oh. That might, in fact, be it.

"Not... exactly," she grumbles. Ugh, she should not have said anything. "Just that you probably wanted to get married at least because they were."

"I didn't even remember anything about that! I still don't--why would I have known something like that if I don't--"

He doesn't want to be angry, not with her, not after the immense fuckup he just did, but he's not kidding about the shitty mixed signals. "So I'm nothing like him and nothing about him and me should matter, but oh, I should know that he was married to the woman you're not, so I'm like him? That isn't fair. And I don't mean that in a life's not fair way, I mean that in a you can't have it both ways way."

Church spins around in a huff, takes a few pacing steps, then comes right back. "What about you? If I was gonna marry you before Omega and the Freelancers turned you into a bigger rampaging bitch than you already were because of him, maybe you love me because she loved him, huh? Is that how this works?"

"I don't fucking know! I don't know what to tell you, Church. You two completely different people, but we have some of his fucking jumbled up memories floating in our heads, okay? I thought you'd want to know." It's too late for this shit.

Her arms are folded over her chest now and it's hard not to instinctively close up as this heats up into a fight. "I don't know how this works. You haven't been dealing with this until tonight."

"You don't know." Is that she doesn't know how this works, or is that she doesn't know if her feelings for him are really hers?

"Tex, we shared part of our lives together, and it wasn't always fun, and it wasn't always perfect, and then you joined the Freelancers, and everything went to hell. And..." He brings the bottle to his lips but doesn't drink, frustrated. "And none of that actually happened, did it? I never actually met any of them. Did--did Sidewinder happen, or did I just make that up, too? What do you remember about us?"

"Church, everything started at Freelancer. You were made there the same as I was." God, are they really having this conversation? She wishes they weren't, it's too early and she knows it's not going to end well.

"I have the memories he gave me, gave us, and then I was there, in the Project with the others. It doesn't change any of the crap I said before about how I feel, okay?"

"Me not remembering any of that, me being split apart into a bunch of little components, that doesn't change how you feel at all? You've been dealing with this all alone." And he's a fucking shitheel for dumping this all on her, but who else is going to even remotely understand? It's not like he wanted to have this conversation.

"Yeah, and trying to keep your ass safe while I was at it. See how well that worked," she grumbles. "If the way you are now was a deal breaker, do you think I would have stuck around that canyon with your idiot team so long?"

"All this time, we weren't a thing not just because I made at least half of my life up, but because you were just...trying to watch out for me. You always knew right from the start, but you never said--anything. You never said a god damn word." He runs a hand through his hair, rubbing at his head. Everything hurts, but he can't just drop it. "But that was still you trying to protect me, because you knew I'd act like this, or not believe you like with Wash. There was never really an us. You just...went along with what I said to protect me. From myself."

"I saw how messed up you were after his... experiments. It was better to not tell you. You picked up the pieces and made something new, you didn't need to relive the bullshit." She's searching his eyes now for some kind of hint of what she could say to make this better. Her next words hurt and she's not sure if it would improve things or make them worse, but he's hung up on everything their relationship hasn't been.

"Church, if this is too much, we can stop."

He wants to say that he can't stop, that the Director got the ball rolling, and Epsilon punted it down a hill; he can't just stop, don't you think he would stop if he could?

But that's not what she means. She doesn't mean this conversation, this horrible trainwreck of thoughts smashing into each other. She means them.

The vodka bottle slips from his hand as if it had never even been there to begin with and smacks the ground with a loud clatter that he ignores when he grabs her upper arms and pulls her in with a little shake. "Loving you is the only thing in my life I've ever been completely and 100% sure of. Okay?"

She lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and settles her hands on his waist. She could walk away if that would help him, somehow, figure out the mess that is his head, but it isn't something she ever wants to do. Whether that's because of their memories or programming or whatever, she's not entirely sure.

"Good," she replies and squeezes his waist as she presses close to him. The word is wholly inadequate for how glad she is to hear him say that, but she hopes just her being here like this is enough.

"I'm sorry." He's shit at apologies and tends to completely avoid them, but tonight's been a night full of them, burying his face in her hair, kissing the top of her head. "Us is good. Us is fucking amazing. I like us. I love us. I need time to sort out my fucking head, okay? That's what this is. I'm just..."

He sighs, slumping, arms around her only tight enough to make sure she doesn't leave him. "Tired. I'm just really tired right now."

As those words wash over her, she can't stop the feelings of dread and apprehension that accompany them. They shouldn't carry that kind of weight, but they do and she is so glad that he can't see her face right now. She closes her eyes tight and breathes in his scent as she holds him close. If she lets go, he might not be there when she opens her eyes.

"It's okay," she murmurs and runs her hand through his hair. "You're not doing this alone."

"And you never had to do it alone for as long as you did." She probably had to. How much time did she spend trying to find him? But why did she never seem to stay once she did? Would he have been more likely to believe her if the news came from her?

Too many what if scenarios, and they're all fucking bullshit. He's had enough of that for a couple hundred lifetimes, thanks.

"It doesn't matter now." She kisses the side of his head and pulls back just enough to look in his eyes. "This place is bullshit, but at least we're alive and together."

He wishes it didn't matter. It doesn't, and he knows it doesn't, that he just needs to accept everything and move on, but that's not so simple right now. It's important to him right now, so it matters. He can't make it not matter in this moment.

It takes a few iterations of Church to learn how to let go. It was never this one.

But for now: "Yeah. We are. Hey, this place isn't so bad. We have bodies. Really nice bodies. And we're not stuck in a canyon. Or the Meta's head."

She lets out a small sigh of relief. She doesn't know what's bubbling under the surface, but maybe he's finally settling down. She cups his cheek and strokes gently with her thumb.

"It's bad, but it's a little better than what we left."

An actual, genuine smile shyly appears on his face, exhausted but there when he leans in for a small kiss. "Thanks for trying to unfuck my head. Maybe I'm just fighting an errant line of code plugged into my head or whatever, but--thanks. For putting up with me." His head might be swimming in distracting thoughts and memories, but she is his lifeline.

He has to wonder just how long she's been that for him without him knowing.

"I like it better when your head isn't a jumbled mess," she teases and lowers her hand to rest on his shoulder. "I can listen when you need it, just don't go spreading it around. I have a reputation to maintain."

"You have full permission to be your normal, angry, why-the-fuck-is-she-with-him self in public. Who wants to know about all the soft cuddly bits? Gross."

She snickers. "Has anyone asked you how you managed to get someone so hot to stay with you?"

Sanctum IC Contact

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject