"'Cause we were dead." Which is now officially the worst way she's ever spent her birthday.
"I must be feeling like crap because I don't feel like celebrating. I was going to do cake with you--one of those special recipes so you could have some. And have Connor over, too. And I somehow talked Steve into a friend date? Like, all dressed up and old fashioned like when he was my age, just buddies hitting the town. The Admiral's a real asshole."
"We can still celebrate," he assures her. "When you're feeling better. You, me, Connor," he promises. "I cannot throw a party like you can, but I can certainly try."
She feathers a kiss against his neck, finding bizarre comfort in the fact his pulse isn't there to meet her lips. She is suddenly grateful she'd been only human in the port, unable to hear his heart racing. Even if she'd heard most of the rest.
"Is it going to be hard for you to be around Steve?"
"You don't have to rush to be okay. Okay? Me either," which is hard for her to say. "If we're okay outside so we can help our friends, we can still come back here and not be okay."
"I think we both figured out early we got each other's backs." She has never felt anything but safe with him. It's why, even though she knows what he is and what he can do, she never quite understands the caution some others have around him.
"D'you want to talk about what you're thinking?" Because she knows what's in her head, and can't imagine what's in his.
He's quiet for a long moment, but he's thoughtful. Not ignoring her. Just giving himself space to think. "I know about the Death Toll. I thought there was a chance that we would be revived, but there was also a part of me that thought we wouldn't. That this death would be my true death. And I was afraid. Terrified, Annie. I didn't want it."
He brushes his thumb across her hand. "A far cry from where I was on the rooftop ten months ago."
"I'm glad it is. Even though it's," a breath. What word even covers it. "Hell. It's different when it's someone else's choice...someone else breaking you. But I knew I wanted to live then, too. Maybe more clearly than I ever have."
"I know it wasn't B." She needs that to be clear. She struggles to know it sometimes right now.
"But I haven't had a friend hurt me since I was human. And it was like everything I ever shed when I was turned just came back on me, and I remembered I'm as weak as I feel sometimes. That I can't do anything for you or for me when it gets bad. And it reminded me why-" she rests her head on his chest. "Reminded me why I didn't have friends anymore at home. Just pack."
Even with the death toll, even with the sense of loss and failure, she's soothed by his fingers in her hair. "I've let everyone I love be killed. And I guess I've realized all the training with Sariss, and talking to Callisto, isn't going to change that."
"Change what? Change the past? No, Annie. No amount of training is going to change what's happened. And weakness isn't in training muscles and techniques," he explains.
"Sometimes I'm not strong. I'm strongest when - when I let people help me," he admits. "I'm weakest when I won't. Annie, I - I didn't tell you what I did to Quentin. In the woods."
"Briefly. I couldn't travel in the day but he wouldn't leave me. So when I saw him that evening, I told him that he would have to go on in the morning without me. Let me stay. He refused. So I helped him build a fire that night. Ensured he would be alright and then - " He shudders. "I left him there."
She doesn't know Quentin well, but she can imagine what he must have felt. She can imagine Quentin trying to find Godric again; it's what she would have done.
Her terror at being alone makes it hard to know what she would do. The part of her that wants to be stronger, to take a stand instead of cowering, wants to believe she'd do what Godric had done. It was the less wrong thing, in her eyes.
"That's an impossible decision, Godric. No matter what you did it would have been hard. Have you seen him since?"
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"Annie," he sighs. "Why didn't you say something?"
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"I must be feeling like crap because I don't feel like celebrating. I was going to do cake with you--one of those special recipes so you could have some. And have Connor over, too. And I somehow talked Steve into a friend date? Like, all dressed up and old fashioned like when he was my age, just buddies hitting the town. The Admiral's a real asshole."
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He brushes lips across her forehead.
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"Is it going to be hard for you to be around Steve?"
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He closes his eyes. "No. I am ready to help him with his guilt, if that is what I need to do."
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"Are you okay?" Her tone means she's not just asking, she wants the full truth, sir.
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He swallows hard, not tempted to lie to her at all.
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He closes his eyes a moment.
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"D'you want to talk about what you're thinking?" Because she knows what's in her head, and can't imagine what's in his.
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He brushes his thumb across her hand. "A far cry from where I was on the rooftop ten months ago."
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"But I haven't had a friend hurt me since I was human. And it was like everything I ever shed when I was turned just came back on me, and I remembered I'm as weak as I feel sometimes. That I can't do anything for you or for me when it gets bad. And it reminded me why-" she rests her head on his chest. "Reminded me why I didn't have friends anymore at home. Just pack."
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"But you aren't weak. Not really."
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He frowns.
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"Why did you feel like you needed to go?"
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"Because he threatened to stay. He said he would risk hypothermia and a death toll for me. I didn't want him to."
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"That's an impossible decision, Godric. No matter what you did it would have been hard. Have you seen him since?"
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Which, naturally, makes him feel worse.
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cw drug reference
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