[ 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. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]