[IC Inbox | Meadowlark]

[lifetothefullest]

@lance.sweets | ■ ▲ ◌ ▼

Comments

[notathreat]

Maybe. Maybe he thought we'd be slowed down because we'd have to steal guns and a horse, or go on foot. Maybe he thought Maria actually would chain me up, like he asked.

[It's a grim sort of humor, but Ellie doesn't bother trying to smile. She's being completely serious about that part.]

We were only a day or two behind him, and they had a good start on all of us. We kept finding the places he'd camped... and there were eight of the fuckers to deal with.

[lifetothefullest]

You said 'we'; how many people were with you?

[He's just asking for context, and to give her breaks in telling the story if she needs them; she seems to have decided to talk about what happened, so he'll let her just do that at her own pace without prompting.]

[notathreat]

[Pain crosses Ellie's eyes, then, and she hesitates in answering, mostly not knowing how to put it.]

Me and Dina. She's-

We'd been friends for years, but we'd just started something. When she said she was coming with me, I didn't try very hard to make her stay behind.

[There's a lump in her throat that she swallows around.]

... and Jesse- Dina's ex. My best friend. But we didn't know that, then. That he'd followed us, too. I'd figured he wouldn't want-

[Ellie pauses, blinking fast. She should've expected how hard it would be to talk about him, but it's harder than she thought.]

He was -- good, y'know? Cared a lot about people.

Reminds me a lot of you, that way.

[lifetothefullest]

[Two important people, one of which she's distinctively using past tense for. He offers a faint smile both in reassurance and at the compliment when she compares him to Jesse, and pretends not to notice how emotional she seems to be getting while explaining. It isn't too difficult to guess where part of this might be going, and he asks a question to hopefully give Ellie something to focus on.]

So you and Dina, and in secret Jesse, followed after Tommy; did you catch up to him?

cw: violence

[notathreat]

[It's a good question, would be something good to focus on, if it doesn't slide Ellie's mind sideways into how they reunited. She tastes the bile in the back of her throat, and it comes fast, though she manages to swallow it back.

The sensory memory of the scent of seawater, of rot, of blood and waste and algae. Of blood slowly running in rivulets across the floor and a numb screaming in her ears.

Ellie stops, pale as a ghost, and takes a deep breath. She's not going to freak out in front of Lance. She's not. Another deep breath. It hurts, and makes her remember Owen's death rattle as she pressed her gun to his throat, without an ounce of hesitation or remorse. How wild she'd felt, how angry, before she made out what he was trying to say.]

... yeah.

[Focus.]

Yeah. Yeah, he made it, we brought him home.

[Her words feel detached, and Ellie makes herself stop, closes her eyes to breathe. Not here, not now. She closes her trembling hands into fists and walks herself back from the mental edge, but she can feel how unsteady she is.]

We gotta stop. Sorry.

[lifetothefullest]

[He can tell by the look on her face, before she says anything, that this is rapidly becoming too difficult; he's a little surprised that she says anything more at all, and even more so that she then admits she needs to stop, but the latter is a good surprise. Recognizing and being willing to articulate it are both pretty big things.]

Sure, of course.

[He says it softly, but without pity; it's just an agreement, and he understands. Lance is quiet a moment longer, but he neither wants to let the silence hang and make her feel self-conscious or allow her to spiral too much into whatever she's dealing with, and so after a brief glance to make sure they're mostly alone a soft blue glow lights up in his chest as he activates his power.

It's just the melody of a song, the notes pleasant but just tones, with no real instrumental sound to them. But the purpose is simply a distraction, something to listen to--and hopefully help--as she calms down; while he would typically take a more active part in trying to help, he thinks in this case it might be better to give her a chance to handle things on her own unless she seems to get any worse.]

[notathreat]

[It helps.

Dina laid the groundwork, back at the farm. Breathing awareness, sensory input. Repetitive motion. Sometimes it's enough to curb a fullblown attack, or bring her down if she's managed to get there. This -- she can feel herself losing ground, but she takes full, deep breaths, holds them, lets them slowly go. Presses her palm to her chest.

She can do it, probably. But then Lance does what is possibly the best possible thing he can. Soft melody with a background metronome of tones, easy to sync to, to time her breathing to.

It takes her just a few minutes to calm down, fighting back the intense embarrassment the whole time. It's irrational, she knows, but she still hates it, still hates people seeing it. Hates being seen. She rubs her eyes, breathes out again.]

That song mean something to you?

[lifetothefullest]

[He doesn't look at her as she works through it, listening to her breathing enough to keep tabs on how she's doing but letting his gaze stay out on the water, watching what looks like a fish that keeps just skimming the surface. He knows feeling studied absolutely doesn't help, and so does his best to avoid that.

It's a relief that she does seem to be calming on her own though; that's something so much easier to achieve in thought than in practice. But he expects her to kind of gloss over the moment, rather than ask a question, and so it catches him briefly off guard and he has to decide how truthful to be.

But they're sharing right now, and she surely feels embarrassed at the moment, which would not be helped by being brushed off. So, after a moment, he sighs quietly and gives a small shrug.]

Not in itself, really. It's just an easy song to play.

[But although that's true, it's not really the story, and so he continues.]

I used to be pretty good at singing, at home, but um... At the same time I broke my leg I had some other injuries too, and I was kind of afraid my voice would be messed up.

[He's glossing over so much, because he doesn't want to talk about details, but he's aware it's probably very easy to put together. That's okay, as long as he doesn't have to get more into it.]

My friend finally convinced me to give singing a try again, and that's the song we were practicing with, since it didn't take too much concentration to play at the same time.

[And, because it's the obvious question--]

I was not exactly as good as I used to be, but not horrible either, and I got to spend some time with my friend so... Overall a positive memory.

[And so a positive association with the song.]

[notathreat]

[It's the trust they're building, small tentative steps. Never requiring anything from each other, but just- reciprocal. You showed me, so I'll show you. Ellie's expression smooths out as she focuses on the music, on the steadiness of Lance's voice. She turns to him, working herself back to full focus, watching his profile in the semi-darkness, lit by the soft blue glow.

Acknowledge. Keep moving. Yes, the ghosts are there, but they can't stop them. It's something she had to learn, even if sometimes it's felt like she's kept herself moving out of pure spite.

She puts it together. Broken leg, throat trauma. Other injuries. A hesitation to put weight on something that still hurt. She lets her gaze drop to the curve of his hands, and nods.]

... it fucking sucks. Being hurt in a way that-

[Ellie gestures, with her hand with the prosthetic fingers, holding it out. He remembers, she knows he does. He also knows that she plays the guitar.]

Music's like, a part of you. Obviously.

[As if his powers didn't spell that out.]

[lifetothefullest]

[He looks over at her again when she full turns her attention back to him, offering a small smile that's half knowing and half sad as she speaks.]

Yeah, it does. But I got some magical healing, and you have cool robo-fingers now, so look at us.

[Maybe a little patchwork, but both still going. There's something to be said for that, right?]

[notathreat]

[Ellie echoes that smile, feeling old, and tired, and hollowed out, but better. A lot better than when she started.]

Look at us.

[Ellie lets out her breath, glances back out onto the water, weighing things in her head. It's not a total revelation, but she gets what he's trying to say.]

... guess it's about finding a way to make it work, even if it's not pretty.

[lifetothefullest]

[Lance lets his power fade, the music trailing off with the glow, and he gives a small shrug of agreement.]

Yeah. Sometimes, you just have to make the most of what you have.

[And sometimes 'the most' isn't great. Not just in terms of the situation, but in terms of the choices someone has to make, and when it's done it's done. Then you have to decide how to go forward with what's left.

But that said--]

And for now, we have it getting dark, and so we should probably go get something to eat.

[One of those little 'I'll take care of myself like an adult if you do too' arrangements of theirs, especially since neither of them is probably feeling too up for that otherwise.]

[notathreat]

[Maybe it's because she feels so tender, but Lance taking care of her like this, now, makes the bridge of her nose sting. She'd rather disappear, hole up like some wounded animal to lick her hurts. But him knowing that she needs the company without the pressure, along with the silent confirmation that he knows exactly what she's done with him, helps.

It feels raw, yes. It feels like she cracked something open, even with how comparatively little he's gotten out of her in terms of the whole story.

But she's also willing to bear the cost, to try to patch something of herself together.

And more than that, try to give Lance something he actually can accomplish. They came out this evening with him feeling so obviously despondent and ineffective... but now he can focus on her instead, just for a little while. On someone he can genuinely help, who does need him and his friendship and support, instead of the things he can't fix.

Maybe they can both find some peace.]

Yeah. Not a bad idea.