[There isn't even an answering machine message here, only some horrible recreation of the theme from that one SBaHJ video he did made completely of clips of different bird calls.]
All at once she bursts into tears, finally giving way under the anguish and the horror of the idea of losing him. It's the wretched grief of his death all over again, hitting her in tsunamic waves. At the time of his death she was in the middle of a war and had no choice but to carry on, broken though she was, held together only by the frayed strings of insane desperation, rage, guilt, and myopic determination. But now the war is over. Now he is here. And even though he's back, he's telling her he can't stay, and she can't take it.
She sobs into his shirt, all the tears she's held inside her since the moment he disappeared from her arms bursting from her. What she's doing now is not holding him, or hugging him; she is desperately clinging like he is the last life raft on a frigid ocean whose dark depths she is terrified of sinking into. ]
I'm not like Dirk. [ Her voice is thick and a little nasal. ] I'm not strong enough to tell you it's okay to go. I don't want you to leave. [ She clings all the harder, still crying brokenly, unable to stop, and her voice is small like his. ] Please don't leave me again.
[And even as she yanks a round of his own ragged tears out of him, he's gathering her up, lifting her against his chest to carry all her weight because he is hers entirely. He wraps his wings around them because even embedded in the heat of his own misery, he is hers, he is her knight, and he can't stand her unhappiness. It cuts right through him, white-hot and electric.]
Xion, I c--I can't--
[His sobs are silent, but he has to breathe in great, big gulps of air, like a man drowning, like a child left alone in the dark. He tightens his hands in her shirt, curled so close around her he could be a second skin.]
But I swear, if it's here--if you're here, in the city, it doesn't matter what happens. I'll come back. As long as you're here, I'll come back to you.
[His promise is fierce and pure. No sadness, despite the tears on his face. No pride, because this is all he is--this is all for her.]
[ He is warm and bright and his quiet strength is everything she has ever wanted or needed. She shudders in his arms when he gathers her up, a ripple of anxiety pushing through her limbs before she settles into him. Her face is hot and she has a headache and he's crying too, how could she not notice, how could she not feel his sobs, the silent counterpoint to hers--
All he gets at first is a small, strained, cut off noise. It is the sound sadness makes. Then she just breathes through her tears, trying to calm herself down again, feeling ridiculous and awful for dragging him down with her when she'd been the one to cause a problem in the first place. ]
That's all I wanted. [ She tilts her head up so she can breathe the words against him, so he can still hear them despite how tired and tiny they are. ] That's all I want.
[ Carefully, very carefully, she curls up in his arms, in the hollow and sacred space carved out just for her by the dome of his wings, and cries herself out. It does not take much longer; perhaps a minute or two. It's cathartic in ways she had not expected, to be able to simply grieve for him, even though he's right here. Slowly, notch by notch, she begins to quiet, until her sobs have dialed down into quiet, shuddery breaths. ]
[When she stops, he's the one left still crying, endless, softly hiccuping breaths between his wet snuffling, all unvoiced, just like his laughter. It lacks the violence of her grief. He is sorry, he is so sorry and unhappy, and he doesn't deserve to hold this girl in his arms because he did this to her, he'll keep doing this to her until she stops caring so much, and he needs it. He needs her to think he's something special in this world. He needs her to love him.
He needs her.
He doesn't do anything to move her, doesn't let her go, just holds her to him while she rides out her storm to the end and keeps his own sorrow to himself, quiet, without hope of repair.]
[ If his eyes are closed - if his mind is elsewhere - he might not notice what she's doing with her hands until they're cupping his face. With unbelievable tenderness she smoothes her thumbs over his cheeks, brushing away his tears. ]
Don't cry.
[ One of her hands slips behind his head so she can gently tug him down and press his forehead to hers. ]
I'm right here. And I -- I'm never going to leave you alone, either. I ... as long as I'm here, in this city... I'm always going to be with you. So don't cry.
[ She sees his sorrow. She feels it like it is her own. And she won't let him be alone in it. ]
[He breathes in softly and opens his blurred eyes when her hands touch his face, and then he makes just a small noise as his expression crumples, as he bites his lip and lets her pull his forehead against hers and tries to stop crying. She's so careful with him, it breaks his heart.
One more sob shudders its way out of him, one more hitching inhalation. He nods against her forehead.]
Okay.
[What can he do, presented with everything he needs, knowing she needs him to accept her, but give in?
Whatever resistance he has drains out of him, and he just holds onto her, onto what she's asked of him. It's not so hard to stop crying, when it's already so quiet and weak. Harder, a little, to fix that promise in his mind: He will tell her when he has to make a choice. He will let her try to stop him, as long as she lets him try.
They'll be all right.
Hardest still to believe that, but she didn't ask him to.
He adjusts one arm around her and brings the other up to wipe at his face, under the shades.]
It's okay. [ Perhaps miraculously, she really is smiling, though it's small and still a little sad. ] ... I'm sorry for getting so mad. The war... it really took its toll on everyone. Us, too. I know what you were trying to do. I guess ... I just missed you.
[ After a beat, she lowers her hands to tuck her arms into her lap instead and simply lean into him, shutting her eyes. ]
[He sniffs and settles both arms around her again, then pulls her gently against his shoulder so he can sit against the wall and she can rest against him, still folded in his wings.]
Uh-huh.
[He rests his cheek against her hair, stroking her back gently with one thumb.]
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no subject
All at once she bursts into tears, finally giving way under the anguish and the horror of the idea of losing him. It's the wretched grief of his death all over again, hitting her in tsunamic waves. At the time of his death she was in the middle of a war and had no choice but to carry on, broken though she was, held together only by the frayed strings of insane desperation, rage, guilt, and myopic determination. But now the war is over. Now he is here. And even though he's back, he's telling her he can't stay, and she can't take it.
She sobs into his shirt, all the tears she's held inside her since the moment he disappeared from her arms bursting from her. What she's doing now is not holding him, or hugging him; she is desperately clinging like he is the last life raft on a frigid ocean whose dark depths she is terrified of sinking into. ]
I'm not like Dirk. [ Her voice is thick and a little nasal. ] I'm not strong enough to tell you it's okay to go. I don't want you to leave. [ She clings all the harder, still crying brokenly, unable to stop, and her voice is small like his. ] Please don't leave me again.
no subject
Xion, I c--I can't--
[His sobs are silent, but he has to breathe in great, big gulps of air, like a man drowning, like a child left alone in the dark. He tightens his hands in her shirt, curled so close around her he could be a second skin.]
But I swear, if it's here--if you're here, in the city, it doesn't matter what happens. I'll come back. As long as you're here, I'll come back to you.
[His promise is fierce and pure. No sadness, despite the tears on his face. No pride, because this is all he is--this is all for her.]
I will never leave you alone.
no subject
All he gets at first is a small, strained, cut off noise. It is the sound sadness makes. Then she just breathes through her tears, trying to calm herself down again, feeling ridiculous and awful for dragging him down with her when she'd been the one to cause a problem in the first place. ]
That's all I wanted. [ She tilts her head up so she can breathe the words against him, so he can still hear them despite how tired and tiny they are. ] That's all I want.
[ Carefully, very carefully, she curls up in his arms, in the hollow and sacred space carved out just for her by the dome of his wings, and cries herself out. It does not take much longer; perhaps a minute or two. It's cathartic in ways she had not expected, to be able to simply grieve for him, even though he's right here. Slowly, notch by notch, she begins to quiet, until her sobs have dialed down into quiet, shuddery breaths. ]
no subject
He needs her.
He doesn't do anything to move her, doesn't let her go, just holds her to him while she rides out her storm to the end and keeps his own sorrow to himself, quiet, without hope of repair.]
no subject
Don't cry.
[ One of her hands slips behind his head so she can gently tug him down and press his forehead to hers. ]
I'm right here. And I -- I'm never going to leave you alone, either. I ... as long as I'm here, in this city... I'm always going to be with you. So don't cry.
[ She sees his sorrow. She feels it like it is her own. And she won't let him be alone in it. ]
no subject
One more sob shudders its way out of him, one more hitching inhalation. He nods against her forehead.]
Okay.
[What can he do, presented with everything he needs, knowing she needs him to accept her, but give in?
Whatever resistance he has drains out of him, and he just holds onto her, onto what she's asked of him. It's not so hard to stop crying, when it's already so quiet and weak. Harder, a little, to fix that promise in his mind: He will tell her when he has to make a choice. He will let her try to stop him, as long as she lets him try.
They'll be all right.
Hardest still to believe that, but she didn't ask him to.
He adjusts one arm around her and brings the other up to wipe at his face, under the shades.]
Okay.
[It bears repeating.]
I'm sorry for--for making you cry.
no subject
[ After a beat, she lowers her hands to tuck her arms into her lap instead and simply lean into him, shutting her eyes. ]
... can we stay like this for a while?
no subject
Uh-huh.
[He rests his cheek against her hair, stroking her back gently with one thumb.]
I'm not going anywhere.
no subject
Okay.
[ And she'll stay like that, just like that, for as long as she can. ]