tushanshu_logs | But I still wake up, I still see your ghost;

Entry tags:

But I still wake up, I still see your ghost;

Characters: Carolina and York
Date: Backdated to Tues or Weds
Location: York's suite, metal sector
Situation: Potentially awkward dinner with York and Carolina. Probably some small talk and serious discussions of Bad Things.
Warnings/Rating: Freelancer Things, awkward, etc. Maybe language.

[Things like having dinner shouldn't cause Carolina's stomach to twist and turn uncomfortably in her gut, but if they're short talk after her arrival had told her anything, it was that things were unbearably different between them. Conversation wasn't easy, wasn't natural, wasn't anything like it used to be. Even under the intense pressure of the Project, they'd still managed to talk as people when the job was done.

As she approaches his door, she reminds herself that it can happen again. They can re-build; they have to be able to re-build and she refuses to believe otherwise. So, she's out of her armor, her braided back and dressed in something she'd found here on the turtle, an open-collared cross garment with plain trousers and boots. Not her usual style, but she hoped it'd give the aire of her being at least mildly comfortable instead of her armor.

After a moment of hesitation, she raps as gently as she can against the door before stepping back and reminding herself to breathe.]

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Yeah, screw that. I'm going with you if that's the case.

[ Nope. Nope nope nope, you're the only person he has here from his world, he's not going to just let you go. ]

[Frowning, a little confused at his reaction.] I'll be fine, York.

I'm not saying you won't, I'm just saying I'm not letting you go out there alone.

[The anger starts to slowly drain out of her the longer she watches him, considering telling him no, but.] It's not going to be easy from what I've heard.

So?

[ Dude, he's dealt with "not easy" before. He can handle this. ]

[Sorry York, the last "competent" person she talked to was Wash and he disappointed her.]

Sorry, I'm used to talking to sim soldiers. [More like yelling. More like being buttmad furious at them for not bending to her every whim.]

I'll come by on Friday before I head out.

...Augh, why?

[ he's only vaguely had to deal with them okay, and that one time was...well. It was something. York pulls a face at that, sympathetic. ]

[Carolina raises her eyebrows for a moment before her expression becomes distinctly more somber.] I didn't have a choice.

[And she's about to stop there, before her pessimism and negativity gets the better of her.] They abandoned me too in the end.

[Super dramatically. Sure, they'd come back, sure, but part of her considers that to have been Wash's work. Or coming to help Church.]

[ He can understand that. When you've got no one else to turn to and there's a distinct lack of friends there to help you out, he understands how sobering it can be to have to turn to that-- to someone you don't know or someone you don't want to turn to, for help.

Still, it's the second sentence that really hurts.

They abandoned me too, in the end.

He opens his mouth to protest that-- he hadn't abandoned her. He hadn't even known she was hurt like that, he hadn't found out until reports of her being dead had gotten through to him and even then he'd never stopped looking, stopped hoping. York takes a slow step back, dragging his hand through his hair, leaving it standing up every which way.

I didn't abandon you.

Except, no, he kind of had. He kind of really, really had, with how shittily things had gone and how fast they had gone to hell. He'd never taken the time to explain to her what happened, he'd just assumed-- just hoped that she'd understand and instead, gotten his ass kicked for it.

The words settle in, ache a little more than he's comfortable with, and he swallows harder. ]

I'm sorry.

[She watches him as he steps back, opens and closes his mouth, and internally reminds herself that shoving things like this in York's face isn't letting go. Reminding him of what happened wasn't fixing anything. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she glances away for a moment to reign everything back in. He's going to come with her to the mainland, he's not being forced at gunpoint to help her, he's not trying to get anything out of it, he just wants to help. That's all he's wanted to do since she got here: help.

Shaking her head, she replies, stumbling a little over the concept of forgiveness.] It's in the past. I shouldn't--- [Bring it up like that, shove it in his face and force him to see her side of things.] I shouldn't.

J--

[ York's voice cracks despite himself, and his shoulders slump just a tad. He's tired. God, he's so fucking tired and it took just this to remind him of it. York rakes a hand through his hair, and keeps his hands moving, an easy sign of anxiety of sorts. ]

You're right, though. I fucked it up.

[The mention of his nickname for her catches her attention immediately. The fact that he even wants to use it funnels a little hope into her chest, despite his obvious distress. Carefully, she reaches over for him, trying to grasp one of his arms and try to still him just a little.] York.

[She wishes he'd been able to convincer her, too, but she'd been so blinded by the Director, by the threat of Texas, nothing else had mattered.]

[ He does still when she reaches out, hesitating a moment, and then he takes a few steps forward, one of his hands easing over her waist, and goddamnit, it's such a ridiculous thing but he really, really wants a hug from her. ]

I'm sorry. I should have explained--

[At first she's not sure what he's doing, unsure about his touch until it clicks. Just as carefully as ever, she slides her arms over his shoulders and embraces him as much as he'll let her.]

I wouldn't have believed you. [If nothing else, she can try to help with some of that guilt.]

I could have tried.

[ And because he knew she wouldn't believe him, he hadn't. York exhales shakily, and reaches out, pressing his hands to her sides, over her back, slowly squeezing her tighter and steadying himself, his face pressed into her hair. It's sobering, realizing he's dead, realizing the only people who even remember him are her and Wash, now. ]

[As he embraces her tighter, she clutches him closer to her, lets him press his face into her hair and hold her like he's probably wanted to for years. That is, if she's been reading the signals right. For a little while she just holds him like this before speaking again, her lips accidentally brushing against his ear.]

I'm sorry. [For everything, really. For roping him in at Errera, for not listening to him as things quickly declined, for not listening to him the last time they talked in that elevator, for only realizing that he was right years and years later.]

[ Everything aches right then, down to his toes. He's tired and worn down and he's been more lonely than he wants to acknowledge, because as much as this place isn't awful, it's not home. It doesn't have Delta, or any of the others, and he's so used to constantly having someone there that the house is just so quiet, that it's overwhelming sometimes. It's taken a while to realize just how lonely he's been, and he doesn't really want to settle in on it. Instead, he presses her closer and holds her there, shuddering out a sigh. ]

[For all she's used to never being touched, never being anywhere near anyone else, being held like this is surprisingly nice. She tries to carefully rub the top of his back where she can reach, her fingers tracing slow circles against the fabric of his shirt. It's a little stilted, but it's still an attempt to comfort him.]

[ Just the slight affection from her is nice-- he hums, soft and low and leans into her with his eyes closed, letting her stroked over the fabric of his shirt and over his back. ]

I missed you so goddamn much.

[If nothing else, this proves beyond a doubt that he sincerely did miss her, far more than she expected, really, after the events of the Project just before her "death." She didn't expect anyone to feel like this, not even her own father, but if she was honest, she'd always wanted it in some way. Still, she continues to hold him, letting him just hold her in return.]

I know. [That, at least, she can say earnestly.]

[ York holds her a moment more, and then realizes he's probably coming off as too clingy, and draws back and away, stroking his hands down her back lightly, not willing to draw totally away, yet. ]

Wish you coulda brought Delta, North and Wash with you, too. Then we would've been all set.

[Carolina nods, staying right where she's at for the time being. He seems to need something, but she can't quite put her finger on what.

What she can do, though, is offer a very real apology.] Sorry.

I'm sure they'll catch up.

[ York slips one hand up and cups her face, tucking her hair behind her ear, kissing her forehead. It's more an affectionate, friendly gesture than a romantic one. ]

You're enough, remember?

[The touch at her cheek is way more than she ever expected from him, no matter the friendly intentions. It reminds her of everything they didn't get a chance to have in the Project.

She nods gingerly against his lips, memorizing how this feels.]

[ He withdraws after a moment, squeezing her shoulder on his way back, and smiles. ]

So what now?

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