snowblindrpg | [log] Grass is probably green, sky is probably blue [closed]

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[log] Grass is probably green, sky is probably blue [closed]

Characters: Stephanie Brown, Alphonse Elric and Gabriel Gray
Location: Skywalk 287
Date: Night 265
Summary: A reunion
Warnings: TBA

Steph doesn't reach the skywalk again until scant moments before lockdown, but the boys have had the whole day to recover from their godawful experience. She assumes this is enough time for them to regain at least some desire for affection.

If not, they're out of luck, because the first thing Steph does after dropping all her belongings by the door is throw herself at first one, then the other. Hopefully nobody will comment if she's crying a little.

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Al doesn't know what's going to happen after today, he feels somehow wrong sticking around and trying to keep helping after what he's done. Which has led to him sitting as far from Sylar as he can for most of the day, aside from one or two melancholy conversations, but then Steph arrives.

Her hug breaks something inside him and he folds in over her, trembling so hard that his armour rattles, sounding as if he's crying even though he can't.

"I-- Steph, I--"

Odd as it may look, she pets his helmet like she would hair. She didn't watch any more of the surgeries than she had to in order to see who was where, but she can imagine. She knows what must be going through his head right now.

"It's okay, you're okay. I'm here now."

Okay... it sounds so hollow and empty, and he gives a tiny humourless laugh that just sounds broken and splintered when she says it. Of course it's not okay. Nobody is okay after this.

"...how can I ever ask people to believe I'll protect them again?"

He can't even believe it of himself.

Not even the people who were on the outside are okay. But for Al... Steph can be okay for Al.

"Because you try. You keep trying, and you never stop trying, when I would have given up entirely if it weren't for you. This wasn't your fault, Al. Nobody thinks that it is."

"I did try, I tried so damn hard to convert them. I thought it was the right thing, I told them all how much I wanted to help them."

He can't ever say those words again without thinking of that, without it making the promise to help and the determination to do the right thing hollow. It feels like he's become a genuine monster.

"That wasn't you, Al." She squeezes him tighter, wishing to god that he could feel the warmth and firmness of her grip. She doesn't know what else to do.

"That was a bunch of nanobots commandeering your brain. It wasn't you."

"It doesn't matter, Steph, don't you understand? There are people here now who will always remember that my hands held them down and my voice told them that I was there to help."

He twists to break free of her grip, though not roughly.

"I can't make this right."

"They're going to remember that it wasn't you in control, Al. They will." If he won't let her hug him she'll just have to settle for keeping her hands on his shoulders.

"That won't stop them from being scared of me or blaming me, they won't be able to help it."

He's seen it before with Dr. House who is still scared of him in person and rightly so, even though he's smart enough to know logically that if hadn't been Al in charge.

"I can't keep fighting this, Steph, I don't know how any more."

"I know. I know there are things you can't ever forget." She slumps a little, remembering Kesara crushed under stone, and Zach bleeding to death under her hands. She shakes her head, then looks up again, pleading.

"Just... just stay with me, okay? Don't leave me again. We can fight together."

"I don't know if I can."

He's said much the same thing to Sylar already, but he was already worn down a bit on this argument so it's less absolute than it was there.

"I can't hurt you, what if I lose control again?"

She smiles sympathetically.

"Then I'll throw you across the room and hogtie you like I did the last time someone three times my size tried to hurt me." She glances casually in Sylar's direction. "Like I told Sylar. If he hurts you I'll cut his throat. No hesitation." Her tone is far too casual and matter-of-fact for the subject matter.

She's so deadpan about it that he believes that she means both of those things quite literally, and he's not sure if that's supposed to be a comfort or not, but it stops him from continuing to insist that he needs to leave.

"You can't. If he-- If something happens, please don't take revenge. I don't want to be the person responsible for someone losing themselves to hate."

She absolutely means them both literally. But at least she seems to be winning the argument.

"I'm already losing myself, Al. That's the whole problem." She pauses a moment, then sighs.

"Besides, he asked me to. And thanked me for promising."

"I don't care, I'll knock your heads together if either of you even think about doing something like that."

He's had enough of death, and he's definitely never being the catalyst for someone else losing themselves and killing.

"You understand me?"

She stares him down, not a touch angry or embarrassed.

"It's a little late for that, don't you think? What do you think has been running through my head, on my own for the better part of three weeks? All I can think about is 'when am I gonna lose it, and how?' I haven't just thought of ways to kill myself, I've thought of ways to accidentally kill myself. I'm pretty creative to start with, and it isn't hard to imagine killing a man when you've been trained to fight."

He stares at her and, for a moment, he's so angry and concerned over what he's hearing that his own troubles completely melt away. The fire comes back to his eyes and he finds himself on his feet and trying to take her by the shoulders, fierce and serious.

"Don't ever do that. How can you hope to help anyone if you don't live on and keep fighting? How can you make things better for anyone? Don't be so stupid!"

She raises her shoulders defensively, but with his huge hands on them it looks more like she retracts her neck.

"Do you really think any of that matters when it's the middle of the night and there's no one there to tell you different?"

"Yeah, I think it matters, because now you won't be alone. Even if I'm not there in person, you'll hear my voice in your head yelling at you."

He intimately knows what that's like. He knows what it is to be in a hopeless situation and be pulled out of it by the echo of someone else's voice, or someone else's determination.

"That's not good enough, Al. You're not the only voice in my head. I can't do this alone. I'm okay when I have a concrete goal, but beyond that..." She shakes her head and averts her eyes.

"I don't know. I just... I can't keep fighting if you're not fighting too."

"That's not fair!"

His voice is shaking, he doesn't want to have someone else's life on his shoulders right now when he's failed so many times, when he's terrified of failing again.

"You can't say something like that, you can't pass the responsibility for your fight onto someone else!"

"I'm not interested in what's fair right now," she shoots back, keeping her voice low. She doesn't want to drag Sylar into this.

"I'm interested in keeping both of us alive. That's as much 'fight' as I can handle right now." Even if it means playing dirty.

That isn't playing dirty, that's outright emotional abuse, demanding someone else take responsibility for her not committing suicide. Al is appalled, but at least being appalled is keeping him from sinking back down into his own depression.

"You can't say something like that, Steph. You can't put the responsibility of your life on my shoulders completely, you have to fight for yourself. I can protect you, and I can help you, but I can't fight for you."

"I'm not," she protests, but in trying to form an explanation for what she is doing she realizes he's right. She deflates.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. I mean, I kinda know what's wrong with me, I just..." She shrugs helplessly.

"I know."

He knows that they're all messed up at the moment and that it's hard, but they're all in the same boat.

"You have to find a way to fight for yourself, I'm sorry."

[log] Grass is probably green, sky is probably blue [closed]

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cw: suicide talk

cw: suicide talk

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