[ There are things she cannot control; the way she cannot hide her sadness is one of them. The way she feels so absolute for Angel is another.
Does not take her eyes off of Angel even when she barks out her words, not moving, almost not blinking. Standing there in absolute defiance. She always knew how to do that well.
The thing is, Parker never really knows when to turn back and run. Not when she should, anyway. Her eyes move when the markings begin to ebb and flutter against her skin and she feels the irony that she was the one that always made them light up for such a lovely reason - now she is the one making them light up for a completely different one. Her jaw still set, harsh lines under the skin of her face, and she swallows quietly. Her heart skips a beat and god, she doesn't want this. She knows the consequences of this, knows them better than anyone else, because she has felt it before. Not often, no, it is a fault of her spine, but one that seldom gets triggered. But she has felt it before and there is no explaining in words the way it rips through her when it does happen. And it makes her sick, it makes her so scared, it makes her feel so small, it is pure destruction. But she has lost the right to beg, to ask for her not to do it, to please, please, please, please not put her through that.
So she stands defiant instead. Keeps her eyes on her. Doesn't spare a glance to the chair. And she knows what she is expecting, she knows she should stop being so stubborn, but what she knows and what she does are two different things.
Her shoulders settle straighter. Her feet firmly planted on the floor. Head high. ]
I don't need you to. [ Don't do this, don't do this, don't do this. Heart beating faster, but she keeps in complete stillness.
Parker says nothing else. Her defiance speaks louder anyway. Her body tense, wants to take a step back, wants to widen the distance between them, like a trapped animal. Wants to wrap her arms around her and deny her any right to be mad and wants to tell her how much she feels for her. But she does nothing, hands curling by her side, nails digging into the palm of her hands. ]
[ She looks at her, and it softens like ice, melting to drip between the cracks.
A second then, when it might just be like before, like she could just step forward, settle herself under her chin and press her face against her neck and say something sweet. Like none of this ever happened. A comfortable warmth that they could share between them, for Parker to hide herself against her the way she always did when it all got to much. Where she was pillars to hold the world off her and -
- her head tilts, her lips part. ]
Yes you do, you always needed me to do the things you couldn't do.
[ Cruelty she had learned, was better done softly. ]
[ And she still does, in way. But that is nothing she will say, because getting in to her words will only make her weaker and bent, she knows that there Angel would have the advantage. Not that right now she has any advantage but her own stubbornness, but her instinct to survive. Everything else tips the scale in Angel's favour.
Her softness cuts through her like glass. Parker swallows dryly, holding her eyes to Angel-- doesn't look away, even if she wants to. Has to be stronger than that, or at least appear to be. Her nails dig deeper into the calloused flesh of her palms. Because she won't say anything, and even if she would, there is nothing that could deny Angel's truth. She always crawled to her when she needed the comfort. She was always the setting stone Parker needed. She always was there when she needed her. And now she's not and there is a hole in her chest. But she always knew, always knew they could never belong. Angel was comfortable, safe, and alive in the hive. Parker was never. Even if she openly gave all of herself to Angel, would not think twice about placing her heart in her hands, she knew it was not the same the other way around.
She could never blame her. Case and point, the mess they're in.
Parker wants this to be over already. The anxiety of the wait tearing through her chest. Parker takes a menacing step forward, but is promptly stopped to take any other as the shackles around her wrists light up, activating the system that makes it look like she is bound to the wall by invisible chains. Grits her teeth to her. Doesn't say anything, just tries to step in again, but can't, hands held back by an invisible force. ]
[ She keeps it to herself with Parker, this power - something she avoids discussing for the most part, and tries to work around ever exposing her to the more out of control aspects of her existence. Brilliant and uncontrollable, they were made for destruction.
Knows to easily, that where it singes others, it would cripple Parker. Feels - prophetic. Like they were made for each other, like there could only ever have been this and she tilts her chin up and she's fast - she's not right - she's human but made in the image of older things and she steps forward - burning, burning, burning and the lights in her eyes and her skin and her touch and she presses her hand forward flat, where the raw stream of powers crackles over her. ]
You're such a martyr.
[ And she presses her hand sharp, direct, flat over the heard that she could no longer feeling beating as one and this desperate need to crawl close together like this sort of break could be repaired. The light takes the path of least resistance and flows out of her and through into Parker. Unforgiving and thundering with lip and she knows from when they had been joined, how much it would hurt when Angel had brushed her with even half what she does now. Presses it until she feels her buckle --
[ She has been called that enough times before that she ought to start listening. She really never will.
All her bravery vanishes for a split second when Angel takes a decisive step forward, hand out. Animalistic fear roaring in the pit of her being. The light, pale, cold, frames her tired eyes easily and there you could see the utter terror of knowing well what this all mean. But she is stubborn and she is defiant and so she does not move from her spot, even if she wants to lunge out of the way.
Angel was right in one thing. Half, a quarter of what she is using would have hurt like hell. Hurt, but easy to recover from. Even if for others it wouldn't, for Parker it would crawl up her spine and burst like a storm of needles from inside and into her skin, bones, the back of her head.
That full force? There is no way in hell she could handle. She tries to hold against it, but it's something that lasts half a second.
The scream that rips through her maker her throat go raw, and doesn't ease up. Feels like someone is ripping her spine through her flesh. Can feel it all the way in to her bones. Acute pain even in the back of her teeth. Her hands snaps up to take hold at the back of her hair, falling down to her knees because there is no way she could keep standing. It doesn't let off, the current singing through her spine continuously, pain, pain, pain. Keeps screaming because it's too painful not to let it out, all of that image of stubbornness crumbled in seconds. She falls forward, shaking, can't stop it, pressing her forehead to the ground as it continues to rip through her sharply, heart beating so fast it feels like it's going to burst out of her chest.
And it hurts, it hurts, it hurts so much she is going insane. ]
[ Once - once before Parker decided this both for them, the pain she was in would have ripped them both apart. They both would have been in twisted about like that - screaming themselves hoarse and Angel could have borne it so willingly with her.
But Parker had chosen, and not phantom limb of agony was going to influence her now. Instead, she watches her impassively, mask it might be but Parker had lost the right to know the truth of what she felt. Eyes lowered, she let her stay there.
It's there, a thought, how sweetly she could kill her, she could wind herself around Parker, could press them together and tragedy like, she could kill her. It would be right, it would be the only way. Lends itself over to feeling as she dips beside her. The glowing marks on her outstretched hand reach forward to brush Parker's hair away - she had always so liked to watch Parker's face when she was affecting her so - ]
You never did believe me when I told you those stories, did you?
[ It's somewhere between the symbiote - somewhere between being a siren. She curls her fingers against her temple and reaches for the grasp of pure energy in her body and twists it, the ball of light held in her hand and with it, she lifts and the air distorts, as if it like it any more than Parker did right now but what did she care? She was a siren, it's nothing less than effortless to her as she picks her up in a movement of air and the outstretch of her fingers to the balance she wants. In a toss of wrist she flings the electricity - and Parker with it - back into the chair with a precise aim.
[ There is no harbour away from the pain. All around her, nothing but a sea of suffering. Vision distorted, cold sweat, feels it run down her veins like tar. The fail safe inside her spine overloaded, it shuts down and she can't feel her legs anymore, sudden drop with no strength in them. She feels like throwing up from the headache it flares through. Every inch of her hurts, down to the every last nerve in her body, roaring, ripping, rattling. She barely has the time to breathe between screams, gasping hoarsely, almost gagging, in between.
Only one thing worse than the pain that pulses through all of her - the fact it is carried out by Angel.
It takes long for it to subdue-- but doesn't die out. It lingers, and she twitches viciously. Nothing she can do against it. The failsafe clicks back on, she can feel her legs again, curled beneath, but there is nothing in her that can give her the strength to use them. Barely feels her hand curling through her hair, and she wishes she didn't touch her, and hates herself for thinking like that, but she wishes she didn't touch her because it makes her want to cry, it hurts her so much. She can't open her eyes properly, trembling when she tries to look at her because she almost can't hold her head up. Pale, paler, the veins in her neck red from the strain. Breathless gasps because she can't, can't breathe, can't think. And she knows well her hand is not there for her, but it guides her out of the insanity swirling in her head from the agony. Can't speak, but looks at her in such unbelievable misery. Shaking, shaking, hands planted on the floor, trying to hold herself up, shoulders down.
Parker had believed her. She didn't think her a liar. She simply never thought she had to suffer through it. She wishes she didn't. Not just because of the pain, too much to take, no human is supposed to be put under that, but because it's Angel inflicting it. It shouldn't be like this. It shouldn't. It shouldn't, it shouldn't, a price for freedom, there is always one, but she wonders if this time it wasn't too high.
There is nothing she can do against her. Pitiful whimper, hears the crackle of electricity and closes her eyes shut, like it would help, like it would do anything. Cuts through air as Angel throws her against the chair, it doesn't make it any easier to withstand the other surge of pain against her spine, feels like dying, feels worse, because dying would be an escape. Arches her back, head snapping, screams, screams so loud it should split her throat in two. Flesh burning under skin.
Slumping forward, hands holding weakly against the arms of the chair, head forward, shoulders slouched. Chest heaving up and down too fast, heart exploding, mind swimming. A sob rips through her, can't help it, she's only human. Her voice comes as a whisper, broken, worn out, so exhausted already. ]
Please-- [ She knows she can't beg, manages to catch herself. She knows she doesn't have the right anymore. But it hurts so much.
It hurts so much that she still loves her so much. ]
[ She lets her fall, lets her have the reprieve, casts an eye on her as if bored by it all -- in a way was, in a way it was easier to become this - what she had been. Watcher with nothing left in her. Empty, empty, empty, what was screaming to Pandora? She'd done nothing she hadn't watched a ten-year-old do before.
But then, and that's where she has to swallow, down, because she's heard her beg before - and it wasn't like this. It was Parker's mouth pressed into her neck, her voice thin with its breathlessness, like she felt so good it hurt her and Angel had been the one that had done to do it to her then, as well. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. She doesn't want to be parted from her, she never did.
Doesn't want to now, and she knew that was crueller than anything else she could do, but wasn't that the point? Stepping forward, her eyes down watching her as she came closer and the motion is smooth, graceful in the way that is siren - feet like they never touched the ground, stepping towards her and then sliding her legs either side of her on the chair to straddle her, settling herself down in her lap with a slow precision. Like she always was. A careful application of her softness. Giving over this part of her like she never had to anyone else.
Her fingers flattened to her chest, over her heart, feeling it beat off and too fast and she scrunched up the material in her hand, feeling it sizzle with the heat pouring off her skin. Burning it away so she could press her fingers direct to skin - but doesn't flood her with it this time. Just wants to get at skin, burning herself a hole in it, then tugging it down so she could lean forward.
Her heart, her heart, her heart, there, just beating under skin. She kisses, so soft, where she could see it thud - but not feel. ] I always used to feel your heart beat. No matter how you tried to push me out. [ Her lips move in slow enunciation. A tickle of breath. ] How could you take that away from me?
[ It burns. Her back twitches unkindly with every remaining surge of energy still trying to push through her spine, leaving it searing, leaving it like glass shards ripping through nerves. Her breathing hard, because she can't swallow, she can barely breathe, each inhale an effort, painful every time it passes her raw throat.
And then it is instinct. Sad, sad instinct, and maybe it speaks louder than anything they could say. She does not hear her come closer, but she can feel her presence nearer and it's a savage duality that tears through her - the absolute terror of more agony and consequent pulling away, or the impossible urge to lean closer to her in the hopes she could find safe haven in her, like she always did. And Parker knows it's not real, but she wants it to be, so she can't help the sob and tears that betray her heart. Can barely contain the way she winces involuntarily away from her when Angel slowly starts to settle down. What once would be welcomed with a smile and a kiss, now destroyed, and she can't look up to her, trying to fight back the feeling of absolute loss and guilt and it is everything she deserves, but she doesn't want to, and it isn't fair. It is still her.
It hurts that Angel won't see it.
The noise that comes out of her is pitiful and weak as Angel's hands settle over her chest, heart in its ribcage off beat and racing, it hurts with every pump it takes, makes her feel sick. Half-leaning forward, she tries hard to keep her distance, but there is one small, subtle brush of her forehead on her shoulder, barely perceptible, but it's there. Like wanting to end all of this and go back to different times where all of this would be sweeter.
Her fingers over her skin make her flinch again, afraid of the outcome - and when she doesn't do anything but lean forward to press her lips to her, Parker wishes she had instead inflicted more pain, because her sweetness is not something she wants clear in her mind, the feel of her skin, of her lips, the way she smells so good and Parker makes an effort to open her eyes to her. Makes a bigger effort not to bury herself in her and beg her to stop. And she tries so hard to ignore the pain that does not come from Angel's powers but from her softness and how all of this is wrong. Vision distorted by tears, arms weakly by her sides, and she can't-- can't help herself to not to lean forward, wet cheek on her shoulder. ]
I didn't. [ She manages to whisper hoarsely, voice broken like if she had been eating sandpaper. ] I didn't. I didn't. [ She wants to hold her so tight. She wants to say how much she loves her. She wants this to end and wants this to stop and she can't handle it, she shouldn't have to. ]
It's still yours. It will always be yours. I will never take it from you. [ A sob rattles through her and she holds back as much as she can to not to hold on to her. ] I couldn't even if I wanted to.
[ Keep it. Keep it, please, please, please. She has nobody else she would give it to. ]
[ By instinct, she does, because she denies, pushes it away, but to see Parker, to touch her, was like reaching for a part of herself that had been cut out. Taken away from her, and she ever so an over eager thing. She shifts her weight forward and presses her up into her. Reckless, warm, she's a burning thing, all heated breath against her chest, because she could turn her ear to her chest, feel it speed up with the rock of her hips as she had done too many times before. An adoring thing in her lap like this, a torturous thing she knows.
Nothing had changed apparently, and she makes a pitiful small sound of wanting, or maybe regret, hurt. She's cruel, cruel, cruel. Like she's holding her heart as if it were a physical thing, between teeth and rolled against her tongue. Swallow back on the blood. ]
Then why are you eager to side with the people that want me dead? Want us all dead? Me, Steve... the rest of our brood?
[ They're as precise as cuts, as she trickles her fingers up, crackling and singing with their powers against her skin in little searing bursts of energy pure enough to burn that she generates effortlessly these days. Until she's tilted her face up under her chin, nose pressed against her jaw in a thready sigh. ]
[ At the moment, sitting straight hurts. Feels her spine far too well, every movement it does, and it burns against the flesh. She gags in her own breath, pushing her arms between them, like trying to protect herself, shielding herself. Stop. Stop.
It settles, then, when Angel subdues for one second and she can gather her breath, shaking under her. Feels cold, feels hot, can barely hear what she is saying.
It is an effort to open her eyes to look at her. Red and wet, face too pale. She frowns, pitiful expression, looks small, looks lost. There is no symbiote in her anymore. Recovering from pain, from hurt, it isn't as easy when you are just human. Her hands grip against her shirt out of instinct, not sure if she wants to push her away or beg her to stop.
She would answer, but it's hard to form thoughts when there's agony screaming in your ears. Doesn't help it when Angel cuts into her skin with her powers and it shouldn't hurt as much, but it does. Parker gasps and whimpers in pain, this time trying to push her away because it hurts and she wants her to stop. Trembling under her as she halts, and Parker breath rattles alarmingly in her chest, fingers holding on to Angel's shirt.
And then does the one thing she shouldn't. She turns her face closer to Angel's. Shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't, but she can't help herself. Even through the hurt she inflicts. ]
Stop-- I can't-- [ Heart out of rhythm, mind swimming, she's only human, and it's getting to dangerous heights. ]
[ Oh it's so easy to do the things she shouldn't. It's always been easy since she came here to snatch at the things she was denied. To revel in the blood and guts and misery that came with the unbridled joy of living. The be greedy like the people she knew best.
To turn herself up, to be more awful that she was otherwise because she hurts, she hurts so much, wants to cry and refuses to do that ever again because Parker had chosen this. She had made it clear that whatever Angel had offered her ( everything, she had let her in as far as she could into every bit and piece of her, the good and the bad and the days where she was nothing but the wreck Jack left her, desperately clinging to her shirt and the day she kissed her with a mouthful of sunshine and Parker had cut out what had made it all so real to her and - )
she kisses her, head turned into her, arms looping about her shoulders and her heart is pounding and her eyes are stinging and it's not the sweet kind exchanges of a morning, or the reverence in the dark corners it is whole and every bit of her. A scrape of teeth against her lips, a moaned guttural noise because she's missed her, she's missed her and she's right in front of her and she'll never feel her the same again - her fingers draw through her hair and it's ever bit of it a goodbye when she's a mouthful of lighting, can smell the singe of burned skin and lightning. The stuttering of her heartbeat she can only feel now, no longer hear. ]
[ It reads like a story of ancient tragedy. Parker blinks tiredly as Angel wraps her arms around her and breathes heavily as she watches her come closer. And the first brush is too painful and she should push her away, but instead her heart falters and there is nothing in her to resist the pull of it. Strings pulled, like high, soft keynotes on a piano. Her eyes close and when she does, it pushes the tears out of her eyes, drawing a path down her cheeks. Leans into the kiss, pressing all her heart into it because she has it, she has it all. Shouldn't, but she keeps doing the things she shouldn't, turning her head to her, heart wrenching in her chest. She wishes she was strong enough to stop it. Instead there is only the soft part of her lips, against electric current, only sweetness, only softness.
The only reason she pulls back, a sudden sharp pain from it, and she cries out painfully, ducking her head, pressing it against Angel's chest like she used to do when she hid from her nightmares and exhaustion. Shoulders shaking, hair matted to her forehead from completely different reasons that usual, cold and sickly, and there is a small drip, drip, drip down her nose from the exertion put on her spine, blood slowly falling against their legs. She doesn't try to wipe it off, too tired for it, simply keeps her eyes closed. ]
Is this it? [ She finally asks, small voice, soaking in agony. ] You're going to kill me for them?
[ They always came first. She knew. She had known a long time ago. She had come to terms with it (lies, she never did). But no pain in the universe cuts as deep as the realization she would be willing to discard her like that - her real self. And suddenly, she is afraid of not being able to ever say it ever again, because she could so easily end her. Parker is always so careful with those words, carries them in a crystal case. Face pressed to her chest, blood staining the shirt, she doesn't care, she has to say it, because she wants her to know, even if she will never again believe her (why wouldn't she, she is more herself than she has ever been).
A beat goes by. Her fingers curls tighter around Angel's shirt. She whispers her words so low, like she doesn't want the symbiote to hear them, only Angel. ]
I wish you would believe me. [ Short of breath, still so careful. If she would only listen, if she would only understand-- but they have always been worlds apart when it came to the Hive. Her hand presses gently to her stomach. She knows the price of her words. But not saying them hurts more. Brushes so sweetly against her skin, even if it burns, even if it feels like there are needles in her veins, and she finally pushes her head away, to look up to her, because when you say these things, you have to be completely open.
Her voice then, is the softest, most broken thing. ]
[ There are no words that have that effect, settled in Parker's lap, her fingers in her hair and her lips just there under hers, the words are the most damning thing in the world. Never says it, never wants to hear it. There were a hundred things she could say or do but they can't be pried from her own mouth. Never again.
But just that she will shut her eyes now, and it will be Parkers face behind her eyelids, the feel of the blood splashed against her uniform, the soft feeling of her hair and the way her eyes always - always looked at her and - ]
Why did you have to say it? I never needed you to say it.
[ Her fingers slip through her hair, drawing down to her cheek to hold her there. Soft in her fingers and the kiss when it comes is soft, soft, soft, less than a goodbye, but an answer in itself that can't come out of her mouth ever again. Someone else had seen to that a long time ago. There's no spark, she pushes itself out of herself now.
The wings manifest bold and bright and huge. Nothing but concentrated energy given form. All her own ability as she draws herself up, pushing . A too familiar feeling as she flaps them down the one and uses the momentum to pull herself off of her. Air pushing past her as she settles back on the floor. One foot then the other, if she has grace, it is in this. In the sure roll of her own power. ]
You never -
[ It's there, in between the words, and she pushes past it all - I love you, - Parker, Parker, Parker. Oh, she thought doing this all over again would somehow remove the hurt from it. This was a mistake, but they're too far gone but she can't - she won't. She won't be that person, ever again.
She turns her back to her, she steps away and goes to the door, the motions are automatic, removed. The sleek white walls that are cool to the touch and she flicks her fingers at the datapad in a crackle of electricity and it springs open. It's then, she looks back, turning to glance over her shoulder - one last look, she can have one. ]
- When you're able: stand up and go to the hangar. There will be a ship waiting for you. There won't be anyone left here by the time you do, so don't... don't worry.
[ Because either way, whatever her good intentions, or maybe just selfishness, it didn't matter that at the chance, the compromising of survival that so many here desperately sought, they could not stay. Not if there was even the slightest chance. Too many of them had fought too hard for that. Weighs there, rocking of her weight and her fingers press harder against the door. The worst part is that it is there, it's nauseously there between her words. She does, she does love her but she can't say it if this wasn't good enough then she could give her. ]
Please, don't bother looking for us.
[ Dry, dry, dry, there's nothing, nothing, she is a million eyes and a million ears and she cannot, cannot be touched. She cannot be hurt. She will give her what she cannot otherwise, she will replace the words that will never come out of her mouth and she not, not regret it all -
Then she's gone, the wings short-circuiting themselves and she darts around the corner. A dimming of quick footsteps in an empty corridor. ]
[ It is not cruelty that makes her say it. It is not an escape that peels the words from her mouth. It is pure affection. It is genuine heart. And she knows the weight of them to Angel, never says it lightly, always avoids saying it (has always been better at showing it anyway), but she needed to. She had to. If it is the last thing she can say with a sober mind, then it should be it. She doesn't apologize for it either, looking at Angel soft and weak and tired and reverent and-- and all that she can only be with her.
Her eyes close at the touch of the fingers, flinching slightly. Thinks it to be another round of pain, but it isn't, and she lets out a breathless gasp for it, leaning her cheek against one of the hands, pressing the soft skin there. Peels a hand from her shirt, wiping the blood off her nose, and sets it gently around Angel's wrist, fingers wrapping one by one in absolute surrender. She watches her lean in, heart skips a beat that hurts too much, waiting for another spark, but it's only soft and gentle and warm and all the things Angel can't say and Parker wants to cry for it. Presses forward to kiss her back, god, doesn't want it to end, doesn't want to let go, because she's selfish, because she's coveting. It's everything she wants and nothing at all. It's everything she needs.
It's the only thing she needs.
When she leans back, she gasps for it, pained whimper, tries to follow her but only ends up sliding off the chair and to the floor. Feels... wrong. Tragedy. Parker pushes herself up, arm around the chair seat, looking up at Angel with red eyes and trembling shoulders and shortness of breath. ]
I know. [ She says in a raspy voice. She knows she doesn't need her to say it. She wants to tell her every day. Even if it hurts a little, deep down, that she can't say it, but she has long decided that she doesn't care if she can't, as long as she can stay with her.
Ironic.
It hurts to look at her, to hear her, to read her, between the lines. And she wants to get up and hold her and beg her to stay, to be with her, to take her as she is, because this is all she will ever be.
Parker watches every movement of her with eyes red and tears stinging through, shaking slightly. Don't go, don't go, don't go. She knows it's not fair. She knows she is selfish. But nothing is fair. Nothing has ever been fair.
It crosses her face, absolute confusion. Is-- Is she--? ]
What? [ Parker tries to stand, but can't, ends up falling on her arms. She pushes herself up, hard to do. ] Angel, what--?
[ No, no, this is not what she wanted. Not really. She watches her leave and something rips inside of her and whatever link had them connected doesn't compare to the raw feeling of her leaving. ]
Angel!
[ It tear through her throat, her name, like you would call out your prayer in a time of desperation. She can't-- She can't--
And it hurts every bone in her body, every nerve, it kills her to do it, but Parker pushes herself up, through the hurt. Vision clouded by the pain, she takes two steps before falling. Yells in frustration, in pain, and gets up again. Cries out for her as she does, manages to stumble to the door and holds herself up there. ]
Angel! [ Sobs, louder than anything she should be able to produce.
Don't-- Don't. Don't, don't, don't. Not seeing her again will kill her. She doesn't want to lose anyone again. She's tired of losing everyone she loves. She's tired of having to carry the weight of the world. She' tired, she's exhausted, she's beyond help, and the only solace she has is Angel. She loves her and she knows it's going to kill her if she just-- if she doesn't-- doesn't do something. She doesn't know what, it's not logical, it's raw and savage and animalistic, but she doesn't want to be separated from her. It works the other way around for Parker, now without the symbiote, without all the voices, all the effort of shutting out people, of listening to a will that is not hers, her mind is clearer and she knows well what she wants, what she needs. Who she loves. Unconditionally. Timelessly.
She manages to get to the corridor before collapsing, legs trembling, breathing hard and fast. The effort churns in her stomach, vomits something foul akin to water and blood. Needs to stop, needs to not to move with the spine still recovering from the abuse, the biowires pressing too hard on her organs from the failsafe overload, and yet she doesn't. She drags herself to a nearby wall, using it to prop herself up, holding her side to it as she drags herself after her. ]
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Does not take her eyes off of Angel even when she barks out her words, not moving, almost not blinking. Standing there in absolute defiance. She always knew how to do that well.
The thing is, Parker never really knows when to turn back and run. Not when she should, anyway. Her eyes move when the markings begin to ebb and flutter against her skin and she feels the irony that she was the one that always made them light up for such a lovely reason - now she is the one making them light up for a completely different one. Her jaw still set, harsh lines under the skin of her face, and she swallows quietly. Her heart skips a beat and god, she doesn't want this. She knows the consequences of this, knows them better than anyone else, because she has felt it before. Not often, no, it is a fault of her spine, but one that seldom gets triggered. But she has felt it before and there is no explaining in words the way it rips through her when it does happen. And it makes her sick, it makes her so scared, it makes her feel so small, it is pure destruction. But she has lost the right to beg, to ask for her not to do it, to please, please, please, please not put her through that.
So she stands defiant instead. Keeps her eyes on her. Doesn't spare a glance to the chair. And she knows what she is expecting, she knows she should stop being so stubborn, but what she knows and what she does are two different things.
Her shoulders settle straighter. Her feet firmly planted on the floor. Head high. ]
I don't need you to. [ Don't do this, don't do this, don't do this. Heart beating faster, but she keeps in complete stillness.
Parker says nothing else. Her defiance speaks louder anyway. Her body tense, wants to take a step back, wants to widen the distance between them, like a trapped animal. Wants to wrap her arms around her and deny her any right to be mad and wants to tell her how much she feels for her. But she does nothing, hands curling by her side, nails digging into the palm of her hands. ]
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A second then, when it might just be like before, like she could just step forward, settle herself under her chin and press her face against her neck and say something sweet. Like none of this ever happened. A comfortable warmth that they could share between them, for Parker to hide herself against her the way she always did when it all got to much. Where she was pillars to hold the world off her and -
- her head tilts, her lips part. ]
Yes you do, you always needed me to do the things you couldn't do.
[ Cruelty she had learned, was better done softly. ]
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Her softness cuts through her like glass. Parker swallows dryly, holding her eyes to Angel-- doesn't look away, even if she wants to. Has to be stronger than that, or at least appear to be. Her nails dig deeper into the calloused flesh of her palms. Because she won't say anything, and even if she would, there is nothing that could deny Angel's truth. She always crawled to her when she needed the comfort. She was always the setting stone Parker needed. She always was there when she needed her. And now she's not and there is a hole in her chest. But she always knew, always knew they could never belong. Angel was comfortable, safe, and alive in the hive. Parker was never. Even if she openly gave all of herself to Angel, would not think twice about placing her heart in her hands, she knew it was not the same the other way around.
She could never blame her. Case and point, the mess they're in.
Parker wants this to be over already. The anxiety of the wait tearing through her chest. Parker takes a menacing step forward, but is promptly stopped to take any other as the shackles around her wrists light up, activating the system that makes it look like she is bound to the wall by invisible chains. Grits her teeth to her. Doesn't say anything, just tries to step in again, but can't, hands held back by an invisible force. ]
Just get it over with.
[ Please. She can't stand it anymore. ]
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Knows to easily, that where it singes others, it would cripple Parker. Feels - prophetic. Like they were made for each other, like there could only ever have been this and she tilts her chin up and she's fast - she's not right - she's human but made in the image of older things and she steps forward - burning, burning, burning and the lights in her eyes and her skin and her touch and she presses her hand forward flat, where the raw stream of powers crackles over her. ]
You're such a martyr.
[ And she presses her hand sharp, direct, flat over the heard that she could no longer feeling beating as one and this desperate need to crawl close together like this sort of break could be repaired. The light takes the path of least resistance and flows out of her and through into Parker. Unforgiving and thundering with lip and she knows from when they had been joined, how much it would hurt when Angel had brushed her with even half what she does now. Presses it until she feels her buckle --
-- and lets her fall. ]
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All her bravery vanishes for a split second when Angel takes a decisive step forward, hand out. Animalistic fear roaring in the pit of her being. The light, pale, cold, frames her tired eyes easily and there you could see the utter terror of knowing well what this all mean. But she is stubborn and she is defiant and so she does not move from her spot, even if she wants to lunge out of the way.
Angel was right in one thing. Half, a quarter of what she is using would have hurt like hell. Hurt, but easy to recover from. Even if for others it wouldn't, for Parker it would crawl up her spine and burst like a storm of needles from inside and into her skin, bones, the back of her head.
That full force? There is no way in hell she could handle. She tries to hold against it, but it's something that lasts half a second.
The scream that rips through her maker her throat go raw, and doesn't ease up. Feels like someone is ripping her spine through her flesh. Can feel it all the way in to her bones. Acute pain even in the back of her teeth. Her hands snaps up to take hold at the back of her hair, falling down to her knees because there is no way she could keep standing. It doesn't let off, the current singing through her spine continuously, pain, pain, pain. Keeps screaming because it's too painful not to let it out, all of that image of stubbornness crumbled in seconds. She falls forward, shaking, can't stop it, pressing her forehead to the ground as it continues to rip through her sharply, heart beating so fast it feels like it's going to burst out of her chest.
And it hurts, it hurts, it hurts so much she is going insane. ]
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But Parker had chosen, and not phantom limb of agony was going to influence her now. Instead, she watches her impassively, mask it might be but Parker had lost the right to know the truth of what she felt. Eyes lowered, she let her stay there.
It's there, a thought, how sweetly she could kill her, she could wind herself around Parker, could press them together and tragedy like, she could kill her. It would be right, it would be the only way. Lends itself over to feeling as she dips beside her. The glowing marks on her outstretched hand reach forward to brush Parker's hair away - she had always so liked to watch Parker's face when she was affecting her so - ]
You never did believe me when I told you those stories, did you?
[ It's somewhere between the symbiote - somewhere between being a siren. She curls her fingers against her temple and reaches for the grasp of pure energy in her body and twists it, the ball of light held in her hand and with it, she lifts and the air distorts, as if it like it any more than Parker did right now but what did she care? She was a siren, it's nothing less than effortless to her as she picks her up in a movement of air and the outstretch of her fingers to the balance she wants. In a toss of wrist she flings the electricity - and Parker with it - back into the chair with a precise aim.
Child with a ragdoll. ]
You could have just sat down.
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Only one thing worse than the pain that pulses through all of her - the fact it is carried out by Angel.
It takes long for it to subdue-- but doesn't die out. It lingers, and she twitches viciously. Nothing she can do against it. The failsafe clicks back on, she can feel her legs again, curled beneath, but there is nothing in her that can give her the strength to use them. Barely feels her hand curling through her hair, and she wishes she didn't touch her, and hates herself for thinking like that, but she wishes she didn't touch her because it makes her want to cry, it hurts her so much. She can't open her eyes properly, trembling when she tries to look at her because she almost can't hold her head up. Pale, paler, the veins in her neck red from the strain. Breathless gasps because she can't, can't breathe, can't think. And she knows well her hand is not there for her, but it guides her out of the insanity swirling in her head from the agony. Can't speak, but looks at her in such unbelievable misery. Shaking, shaking, hands planted on the floor, trying to hold herself up, shoulders down.
Parker had believed her. She didn't think her a liar. She simply never thought she had to suffer through it. She wishes she didn't. Not just because of the pain, too much to take, no human is supposed to be put under that, but because it's Angel inflicting it. It shouldn't be like this. It shouldn't. It shouldn't, it shouldn't, a price for freedom, there is always one, but she wonders if this time it wasn't too high.
There is nothing she can do against her. Pitiful whimper, hears the crackle of electricity and closes her eyes shut, like it would help, like it would do anything. Cuts through air as Angel throws her against the chair, it doesn't make it any easier to withstand the other surge of pain against her spine, feels like dying, feels worse, because dying would be an escape. Arches her back, head snapping, screams, screams so loud it should split her throat in two. Flesh burning under skin.
Slumping forward, hands holding weakly against the arms of the chair, head forward, shoulders slouched. Chest heaving up and down too fast, heart exploding, mind swimming. A sob rips through her, can't help it, she's only human. Her voice comes as a whisper, broken, worn out, so exhausted already. ]
Please-- [ She knows she can't beg, manages to catch herself. She knows she doesn't have the right anymore. But it hurts so much.
It hurts so much that she still loves her so much. ]
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But then, and that's where she has to swallow, down, because she's heard her beg before - and it wasn't like this. It was Parker's mouth pressed into her neck, her voice thin with its breathlessness, like she felt so good it hurt her and Angel had been the one that had done to do it to her then, as well. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. She doesn't want to be parted from her, she never did.
Doesn't want to now, and she knew that was crueller than anything else she could do, but wasn't that the point? Stepping forward, her eyes down watching her as she came closer and the motion is smooth, graceful in the way that is siren - feet like they never touched the ground, stepping towards her and then sliding her legs either side of her on the chair to straddle her, settling herself down in her lap with a slow precision. Like she always was. A careful application of her softness. Giving over this part of her like she never had to anyone else.
Her fingers flattened to her chest, over her heart, feeling it beat off and too fast and she scrunched up the material in her hand, feeling it sizzle with the heat pouring off her skin. Burning it away so she could press her fingers direct to skin - but doesn't flood her with it this time. Just wants to get at skin, burning herself a hole in it, then tugging it down so she could lean forward.
Her heart, her heart, her heart, there, just beating under skin. She kisses, so soft, where she could see it thud - but not feel. ] I always used to feel your heart beat. No matter how you tried to push me out. [ Her lips move in slow enunciation. A tickle of breath. ] How could you take that away from me?
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And then it is instinct. Sad, sad instinct, and maybe it speaks louder than anything they could say. She does not hear her come closer, but she can feel her presence nearer and it's a savage duality that tears through her - the absolute terror of more agony and consequent pulling away, or the impossible urge to lean closer to her in the hopes she could find safe haven in her, like she always did. And Parker knows it's not real, but she wants it to be, so she can't help the sob and tears that betray her heart. Can barely contain the way she winces involuntarily away from her when Angel slowly starts to settle down. What once would be welcomed with a smile and a kiss, now destroyed, and she can't look up to her, trying to fight back the feeling of absolute loss and guilt and it is everything she deserves, but she doesn't want to, and it isn't fair. It is still her.
It hurts that Angel won't see it.
The noise that comes out of her is pitiful and weak as Angel's hands settle over her chest, heart in its ribcage off beat and racing, it hurts with every pump it takes, makes her feel sick. Half-leaning forward, she tries hard to keep her distance, but there is one small, subtle brush of her forehead on her shoulder, barely perceptible, but it's there. Like wanting to end all of this and go back to different times where all of this would be sweeter.
Her fingers over her skin make her flinch again, afraid of the outcome - and when she doesn't do anything but lean forward to press her lips to her, Parker wishes she had instead inflicted more pain, because her sweetness is not something she wants clear in her mind, the feel of her skin, of her lips, the way she smells so good and Parker makes an effort to open her eyes to her. Makes a bigger effort not to bury herself in her and beg her to stop. And she tries so hard to ignore the pain that does not come from Angel's powers but from her softness and how all of this is wrong. Vision distorted by tears, arms weakly by her sides, and she can't-- can't help herself to not to lean forward, wet cheek on her shoulder. ]
I didn't. [ She manages to whisper hoarsely, voice broken like if she had been eating sandpaper. ] I didn't. I didn't. [ She wants to hold her so tight. She wants to say how much she loves her. She wants this to end and wants this to stop and she can't handle it, she shouldn't have to. ]
It's still yours. It will always be yours. I will never take it from you. [ A sob rattles through her and she holds back as much as she can to not to hold on to her. ] I couldn't even if I wanted to.
[ Keep it. Keep it, please, please, please. She has nobody else she would give it to. ]
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Nothing had changed apparently, and she makes a pitiful small sound of wanting, or maybe regret, hurt. She's cruel, cruel, cruel. Like she's holding her heart as if it were a physical thing, between teeth and rolled against her tongue. Swallow back on the blood. ]
Then why are you eager to side with the people that want me dead? Want us all dead? Me, Steve... the rest of our brood?
[ They're as precise as cuts, as she trickles her fingers up, crackling and singing with their powers against her skin in little searing bursts of energy pure enough to burn that she generates effortlessly these days. Until she's tilted her face up under her chin, nose pressed against her jaw in a thready sigh. ]
I miss you so much.
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It settles, then, when Angel subdues for one second and she can gather her breath, shaking under her. Feels cold, feels hot, can barely hear what she is saying.
It is an effort to open her eyes to look at her. Red and wet, face too pale. She frowns, pitiful expression, looks small, looks lost. There is no symbiote in her anymore. Recovering from pain, from hurt, it isn't as easy when you are just human. Her hands grip against her shirt out of instinct, not sure if she wants to push her away or beg her to stop.
She would answer, but it's hard to form thoughts when there's agony screaming in your ears. Doesn't help it when Angel cuts into her skin with her powers and it shouldn't hurt as much, but it does. Parker gasps and whimpers in pain, this time trying to push her away because it hurts and she wants her to stop. Trembling under her as she halts, and Parker breath rattles alarmingly in her chest, fingers holding on to Angel's shirt.
And then does the one thing she shouldn't. She turns her face closer to Angel's. Shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't, but she can't help herself. Even through the hurt she inflicts. ]
Stop-- I can't-- [ Heart out of rhythm, mind swimming, she's only human, and it's getting to dangerous heights. ]
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To turn herself up, to be more awful that she was otherwise because she hurts, she hurts so much, wants to cry and refuses to do that ever again because Parker had chosen this. She had made it clear that whatever Angel had offered her ( everything, she had let her in as far as she could into every bit and piece of her, the good and the bad and the days where she was nothing but the wreck Jack left her, desperately clinging to her shirt and the day she kissed her with a mouthful of sunshine and Parker had cut out what had made it all so real to her and - )
she kisses her, head turned into her, arms looping about her shoulders and her heart is pounding and her eyes are stinging and it's not the sweet kind exchanges of a morning, or the reverence in the dark corners it is whole and every bit of her. A scrape of teeth against her lips, a moaned guttural noise because she's missed her, she's missed her and she's right in front of her and she'll never feel her the same again - her fingers draw through her hair and it's ever bit of it a goodbye when she's a mouthful of lighting, can smell the singe of burned skin and lightning. The stuttering of her heartbeat she can only feel now, no longer hear. ]
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The only reason she pulls back, a sudden sharp pain from it, and she cries out painfully, ducking her head, pressing it against Angel's chest like she used to do when she hid from her nightmares and exhaustion. Shoulders shaking, hair matted to her forehead from completely different reasons that usual, cold and sickly, and there is a small drip, drip, drip down her nose from the exertion put on her spine, blood slowly falling against their legs. She doesn't try to wipe it off, too tired for it, simply keeps her eyes closed. ]
Is this it? [ She finally asks, small voice, soaking in agony. ] You're going to kill me for them?
[ They always came first. She knew. She had known a long time ago. She had come to terms with it (lies, she never did). But no pain in the universe cuts as deep as the realization she would be willing to discard her like that - her real self. And suddenly, she is afraid of not being able to ever say it ever again, because she could so easily end her. Parker is always so careful with those words, carries them in a crystal case. Face pressed to her chest, blood staining the shirt, she doesn't care, she has to say it, because she wants her to know, even if she will never again believe her (why wouldn't she, she is more herself than she has ever been).
A beat goes by. Her fingers curls tighter around Angel's shirt. She whispers her words so low, like she doesn't want the symbiote to hear them, only Angel. ]
I wish you would believe me. [ Short of breath, still so careful. If she would only listen, if she would only understand-- but they have always been worlds apart when it came to the Hive. Her hand presses gently to her stomach. She knows the price of her words. But not saying them hurts more. Brushes so sweetly against her skin, even if it burns, even if it feels like there are needles in her veins, and she finally pushes her head away, to look up to her, because when you say these things, you have to be completely open.
Her voice then, is the softest, most broken thing. ]
I love you.
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But just that she will shut her eyes now, and it will be Parkers face behind her eyelids, the feel of the blood splashed against her uniform, the soft feeling of her hair and the way her eyes always - always looked at her and - ]
Why did you have to say it? I never needed you to say it.
[ Her fingers slip through her hair, drawing down to her cheek to hold her there. Soft in her fingers and the kiss when it comes is soft, soft, soft, less than a goodbye, but an answer in itself that can't come out of her mouth ever again. Someone else had seen to that a long time ago. There's no spark, she pushes itself out of herself now.
The wings manifest bold and bright and huge. Nothing but concentrated energy given form. All her own ability as she draws herself up, pushing . A too familiar feeling as she flaps them down the one and uses the momentum to pull herself off of her. Air pushing past her as she settles back on the floor. One foot then the other, if she has grace, it is in this. In the sure roll of her own power. ]
You never -
[ It's there, in between the words, and she pushes past it all - I love you, - Parker, Parker, Parker. Oh, she thought doing this all over again would somehow remove the hurt from it. This was a mistake, but they're too far gone but she can't - she won't. She won't be that person, ever again.
She turns her back to her, she steps away and goes to the door, the motions are automatic, removed. The sleek white walls that are cool to the touch and she flicks her fingers at the datapad in a crackle of electricity and it springs open. It's then, she looks back, turning to glance over her shoulder - one last look, she can have one. ]
- When you're able: stand up and go to the hangar. There will be a ship waiting for you. There won't be anyone left here by the time you do, so don't... don't worry.
[ Because either way, whatever her good intentions, or maybe just selfishness, it didn't matter that at the chance, the compromising of survival that so many here desperately sought, they could not stay. Not if there was even the slightest chance. Too many of them had fought too hard for that. Weighs there, rocking of her weight and her fingers press harder against the door. The worst part is that it is there, it's nauseously there between her words. She does, she does love her but she can't say it if this wasn't good enough then she could give her. ]
Please, don't bother looking for us.
[ Dry, dry, dry, there's nothing, nothing, she is a million eyes and a million ears and she cannot, cannot be touched. She cannot be hurt. She will give her what she cannot otherwise, she will replace the words that will never come out of her mouth and she not, not regret it all -
Then she's gone, the wings short-circuiting themselves and she darts around the corner. A dimming of quick footsteps in an empty corridor. ]
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Her eyes close at the touch of the fingers, flinching slightly. Thinks it to be another round of pain, but it isn't, and she lets out a breathless gasp for it, leaning her cheek against one of the hands, pressing the soft skin there. Peels a hand from her shirt, wiping the blood off her nose, and sets it gently around Angel's wrist, fingers wrapping one by one in absolute surrender. She watches her lean in, heart skips a beat that hurts too much, waiting for another spark, but it's only soft and gentle and warm and all the things Angel can't say and Parker wants to cry for it. Presses forward to kiss her back, god, doesn't want it to end, doesn't want to let go, because she's selfish, because she's coveting. It's everything she wants and nothing at all. It's everything she needs.
It's the only thing she needs.
When she leans back, she gasps for it, pained whimper, tries to follow her but only ends up sliding off the chair and to the floor. Feels... wrong. Tragedy. Parker pushes herself up, arm around the chair seat, looking up at Angel with red eyes and trembling shoulders and shortness of breath. ]
I know. [ She says in a raspy voice. She knows she doesn't need her to say it. She wants to tell her every day. Even if it hurts a little, deep down, that she can't say it, but she has long decided that she doesn't care if she can't, as long as she can stay with her.
Ironic.
It hurts to look at her, to hear her, to read her, between the lines. And she wants to get up and hold her and beg her to stay, to be with her, to take her as she is, because this is all she will ever be.
Parker watches every movement of her with eyes red and tears stinging through, shaking slightly. Don't go, don't go, don't go. She knows it's not fair. She knows she is selfish. But nothing is fair. Nothing has ever been fair.
It crosses her face, absolute confusion. Is-- Is she--? ]
What? [ Parker tries to stand, but can't, ends up falling on her arms. She pushes herself up, hard to do. ] Angel, what--?
[ No, no, this is not what she wanted. Not really. She watches her leave and something rips inside of her and whatever link had them connected doesn't compare to the raw feeling of her leaving. ]
Angel!
[ It tear through her throat, her name, like you would call out your prayer in a time of desperation. She can't-- She can't--
And it hurts every bone in her body, every nerve, it kills her to do it, but Parker pushes herself up, through the hurt. Vision clouded by the pain, she takes two steps before falling. Yells in frustration, in pain, and gets up again. Cries out for her as she does, manages to stumble to the door and holds herself up there. ]
Angel! [ Sobs, louder than anything she should be able to produce.
Don't-- Don't. Don't, don't, don't. Not seeing her again will kill her. She doesn't want to lose anyone again. She's tired of losing everyone she loves. She's tired of having to carry the weight of the world. She' tired, she's exhausted, she's beyond help, and the only solace she has is Angel. She loves her and she knows it's going to kill her if she just-- if she doesn't-- doesn't do something. She doesn't know what, it's not logical, it's raw and savage and animalistic, but she doesn't want to be separated from her. It works the other way around for Parker, now without the symbiote, without all the voices, all the effort of shutting out people, of listening to a will that is not hers, her mind is clearer and she knows well what she wants, what she needs. Who she loves. Unconditionally. Timelessly.
She manages to get to the corridor before collapsing, legs trembling, breathing hard and fast. The effort churns in her stomach, vomits something foul akin to water and blood. Needs to stop, needs to not to move with the spine still recovering from the abuse, the biowires pressing too hard on her organs from the failsafe overload, and yet she doesn't. She drags herself to a nearby wall, using it to prop herself up, holding her side to it as she drags herself after her. ]