Spike Spiegel (
gottaknockhard) wrote in
paradisa2012-02-11 09:44 am
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Entry tags:
040; action/dictated
[There's that odd moment when you wake up somewhere different than where you fell asleep. Spike realizes it before he opens his eyes, which gives him the foresight to keep them shut until his curiosity gets the better of him. Silk sheets, the warmth of someone nearby, and as he peeks one eye open: a journal sitting open near the edge of the bed. Sometimes they really do try too hard.]
...
[When he glances over, it's the golden hair that finally gets a reaction. Julia? Her back is facing him, but he knows by now... it's her. All week, she's been avoiding him (not that he blames her), so of course the castle would see that as an opportunity to mess with a delicate situation. Spike doesn't wake her. If anything, he's very careful not to disturb any peace she's finding before their strange reality comes back into play. After a lingering silence, he slips off the edge of the bed, grabbing the journal as he moves, and finds a place by the window -- barely lifting an eyebrow at the overstuffed heart-shaped chair -- to sit and read.]
I could have sworn I've seen this before. [--he's mumbling, flipping through the last few pages until he has a better grasp on what's happening. He even manages to sound quietly amused at the commentary, even if they can't see his smile. At least it's not just him this time.]
Gets more like a prison every day. [You know, if prison was crossed with a tacky brothel.] They'll get it right eventually.
...
[When he glances over, it's the golden hair that finally gets a reaction. Julia? Her back is facing him, but he knows by now... it's her. All week, she's been avoiding him (not that he blames her), so of course the castle would see that as an opportunity to mess with a delicate situation. Spike doesn't wake her. If anything, he's very careful not to disturb any peace she's finding before their strange reality comes back into play. After a lingering silence, he slips off the edge of the bed, grabbing the journal as he moves, and finds a place by the window -- barely lifting an eyebrow at the overstuffed heart-shaped chair -- to sit and read.]
I could have sworn I've seen this before. [--he's mumbling, flipping through the last few pages until he has a better grasp on what's happening. He even manages to sound quietly amused at the commentary, even if they can't see his smile. At least it's not just him this time.]
Gets more like a prison every day. [You know, if prison was crossed with a tacky brothel.] They'll get it right eventually.
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It could be about Spike. Their relationship that only gets more strained every time the castle pulls a prank. Somehow though, he doesn't think that's it, and it's reflected in his tone.]
I missed something, didn't I?
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This was a bad idea. She needs to clear her head. She needs.... space. Time.
With a heavy sigh, she tears her eyes away, remaining still for a moment or two before finally deciding to throw the covers off of her and put her feet to the floor. Of course, she can't go far, and hadn't really been intending to anyway. She'll simply head in the direction of the bathroom.]
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Could be that nagging possibility that there's a simple explanation. Getting stuck in a room with this setup is bad enough without the constant reminder of... whatever he must be a constant reminder of. Probably a few things.
Still doesn't change the fact that it doesn't sit right with him, and the seconds it takes her to walk towards the bathroom seem to be more than enough time for him to stew. Before she crosses him, Spike stands, immediately walking to the opposite side of the room like it's all he can do to keep from grabbing her wrist and holding on until she's forced to reveal what she's hiding.
Which he can't do. He's already decided that if she doesn't tell him, he won't ask again. All or nothing. That's always the way it is.]
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It was never a perfect solution. Not by a long shot. But it gave her a way out of an impossible ultimatum. A sense of agency in a world that wanted to take that from her. And it had kept her alive for much longer than one might have expected. To her, it was the closest thing she had to a failsafe, the best possible thing to do when things got difficult.
In the end, though, it all really only comes down to one simple truth. She's spent so long running that she doesn't know what else to do.
And now, that option, her only option, has been taken away from her. Her one weapon has been pried from her hands and carelessly tossed aside, rendering her as vulnerable and defenseless as she's ever been. That revelation spreads through her like a blind panic, effectively shutting everything down. Her attempts to keep everything under control, to protect him, have been slowly spiraling out of her grasp ever since the moment she woke up to find that she wasn't alone. Probably even before that.
She has long since stopped, dead in her tracks. But she's been avoiding meeting his eyes at all costs. If she does, she knows the consequences will be worse than simply losing control of the situation. It's bad enough without looking at him. Maybe she can't read his mind, but she knows him, and because of that, the air is thick with something she can't name or explain, yet is chipping away at her more and more by the second, creating a constant dull ache in her chest. One that's wholly familiar by now.
If she does, she'll fall apart. Although she never really stood much of a chance.
They're going nowhere fast, and not just literally. It's time for something else. She inhales, quiet and unsteady, her gaze pointedly fixed on a random spot on the floor.]
Something happened.
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Something happened and you weren't there to stop it.
The tension that mounts on his shoulders makes his movements slow, careful, as he silently turns back towards her. It's a moment when he could live or die on her every word, and to hell with what he does and doesn't remember. All she has to do is say them.]
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The tension in the air, the sheer gravity of everything, is palpable.
This isn't easy. Not by any stretch of the imagination. And all she's capable of is giving information in pieces. Carefully-chosen pieces. (Or maybe at least part of her goal is to break it in more gently.) A pause, another breath, and then, quietly--]
About a week ago. [... Was it really only that long? It felt like so much longer....]
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Spike doesn't so much as clench a fist though. Not until he finds out how badly he screwed up. (From all the ways she's slowly breaking the story to him, he's already assuming it won't be easily made up for.)]
Julia. [He means the tone to sound reassuring instead of pressing; it doesn't entirely come off like that. If there's something he needs to settle, he can't hold back for long.]
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Anything she might have eventually said in response will forever remain a mystery.
At the precise second that she almost opens her mouth to speak again, there's something that cuts into the silence and distracts her for good. Eerily high-pitched, only grinding her nerves down more than they already were.
A sharp glance off of the floor, following the sound, reveals something that makes about as much sense as anything here: a cart rolling into the center of the room by itself.]
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This bullshitting castle. It's really too much for him to take, which accounts for the sharp edge to his otherwise joking response.]
Did you order something?
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After throwing her off, if anything, it inspires almost the exact opposite reaction from her. She might have been on her way to making progress in finally opening up, but all of that progress is now effectively null. It doesn't take long before she completely shuts down again, her walls definitively up and fortified as if nothing had ever happened at all.
... Old habits die hard.]
No.
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Spike attempts to rationalize it in a way that isn't incredibly frutrating, but he can't. His eyes lock on her's long enough to make it clear that he isn't going to suddenly forget. Once it's clear she isn't immediately going to continue, he moves to the bed, sitting down on the edge, completely silent. Leaving him to assumptions isn't always the better option... it gives him a lot to think about.]
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Is what she's doing really the best thing? If she really cares about him, can she continue to let this go on the way it is?
There's a part of her, a large part of her, that wants to go sit down beside him, provide some kind of reassurance. But her feet never move as she finds herself quietly giving him another piece of the story. She owes him that much.]
I don't remember much. There was a fight.
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Go ahead and tell him Vicious isn't laughing in a grave somewhere. Of all the people who thought Spike deserved this, he was probably the one who was right.
Back to the matter at hand, he starts to make sense of what Julia just told him. The implications of which are currently staring at him in the face.]
A fight between who?
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Which is now being reflected in the shorter duration of her pauses. The pieces are slowly starting to trickle out more easily.]
I didn't know them. [... Which isn't technically a lie; if it came down to it, directly, deliberately lying to his face wouldn't sit well with her at all, especially considering all the guilt that's constantly weighing down on her. It's just not the whole truth.]
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Did they hurt you?
[As he says it, he lifts his head, miserable expression and all. It's even more painful to ask than it is to think of what he almost let slip through his fingers... And if that's the case, is this whole thing the castle making it up to him? Who the hell would be watching them that closely? (Meanwhile, their breakfast is getting cold. The one time he doesn't have an appetite.)]
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It's all up to her.
But when she catches one glimpse of the expression on his face, she knows what she has to do. It might hurt to hear, yes, but prolonging that any longer only has the potential to make it hurt even more. She swallows, catches her breath. When she finally makes the admission, her voice is barely above a whisper.]
Yes.
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Spike keeps his eyes on her for a moment more, assessing for visible injuries maybe, before his gaze drops to the floor. Did someone else help her? What the fuck was he doing? -- It scares him to think about, the way nothing ever scares him, and deep down he's unsettled to the point that he forgets himself. This is where he should apologize and ask if she's okay, but he doesn't speak.
At his core, he knows. As still and quiet as he is now, there's a change coming. He can't afford to be passive. That's why they get away with locking him up in rooms, why they think they can do whatever they want to the few people who matter to him. It happened because Spike let it happen. All there is too it.
Eventually, something is going to boil over.]
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The thoughts she can't stand to let him have.
Again, the impulse to cross the room, to bridge that gap of distance between them, strikes her. More than anything, she wants to convey one simple message, even if any efforts to would be ultimately futile. No matter what he's thinking, this isn't his fault. She has to do something. Every second of watching him like this only twists that knife into her deeper and deeper....--
Her feet only carry her one step before they freeze again.]
*too = to... fml
Find who did it. That's the first step. But murdering them is only temporarily solving the problem; he has to think bigger. He's destroyed buildings before. Plenty of times. Never any that were living, but that doesn't make any difference to him. The key was to find out what keeps it alive. Who does he have to kill to set them free...?
The sound of Julia moving distracts him yet again, and he realizes (somewhat slowly) that his silence might be worrying her. That's understandable. But he hasn't totally lost confidence in his abilities, even if he's failed to prove that to her. He's going to take care of this. One way or another.
For now though, all he can offer her is a hollow smile in reassurance.]
It's a fine time to get locked up.
Didn't even notice B)
And that's exactly what worries her.
She doesn't return his smile. Instead, in response, the look on her own face only becomes more troubled. No, he can't go anywhere else right now, so he's safe for the moment. But who knows how long that'll last? Whatever this is, whatever plan he may or may not be trying to formulate in his mind right now, she has to stop him. No matter what.]
Spike. [It's short, clipped, serious. But wavering. Just like that day, so long ago, when he'd approached her with a plan.]
lies
There's one other reason.]
Is that why you didn't want to tell me? [That question comes out of nowhere. It suddenly bothers him enough to ask. She seems to know what's on his mind, which could mean she's seen it all before. Hard to defend what you can't remember.]
would I ever lie to you? :(
Because it's the truth, hitting her smack in the face. Her most underlying motivation, brought out into the open. Perhaps he could still read her as well as he once could. Rather than making her nervous, that knowledge is almost... a relief, in some way.
In that moment, she makes a decision to go through with a move of her own that's almost unprecedented, at least by their standards lately. She wills her feet to complete those last few steps, not stopping until she's reached the edge of the bed where he's still sitting. There's barely a moment's hesitation before she takes a seat next to him, a hand reaching for one of his.
Then, gently:]
You're not responsible.
hm.
She's staying by him. Or she knows exactly how to play her cards. The trouble with that is, if she's manipulating him or not, Spike can't bring himself to care. The moment she rests her hand on his, all his plans are put on hold. More than a simple gesture; that Julia would cross that line he was too afraid to approach meant something. Keeping their defenses up all the time is bound to wear them out eventually, and he doesn't feel sorry for it. He needs to memorize this. Everything about her.]
... You might be the only one taking my side. [A degree of tension lifts at his slightly self-deprecating reply. Even if it should be going the other way around, the selfish side of him wants to take all the comfort she can offer. That's the kind of man he is.]
i see how it is
More than anything, she's tired of fighting. Especially when the prospect of the one thing she wants, the one thing she needs, is sitting right next to her. Maybe that makes her selfish in some way. But maybe she can be awarded that one small indulgence.
As the tension lifts, a smile flashes over her features, practically gone in five seconds, but it's unmistakable. Her eyes briefly cast downward to catch a glimpse of her hand on his, almost as if she needs visual confirmation of it, before lifting once more.]
I'll always be on your side. [It might be as hollow of a promise as anything is. But there's a weight to her words, one that implies something much deeper than what's on the surface of this conversation.]