paradisa | 040; action/dictated

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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.

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[This would be easier if she could force herself to look away. But as hard as she tries, she can't. She continues to stand in the same spot, watching him, and the more she does, the more that proverbial knife twists in her gut. Shooting holes and causing critical damage to her walls before she really has the chance to put them back up.

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.

[By the time she lets that slip, he's barely processing the information. Between all the magic, her hesitance, and everything that has been working against him for the past year and a half... he's tired. Halfway towards either shutting down and losing it completely. Kind of surprising it hasn't happened already.

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?

[She lets out a sigh before continuing, more audible than it might usually be. If anything, she sounds just as tired. That last attempt at putting the front back up had taken whatever small amount of energy she had left. Energy that had been fading more and more over time. The past six months. The past three years. ... Maybe her entire life.

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.]

[On paper, that doesn't sound much different than another day in this place. Except that there's a conclusion he could jump to that he's trying to hold back from. The reason she's not telling him.]

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.)]

[This is it. The moment she's walked so many circles around, put so much painstaking effort into preventing. The potential game-changer. She has two options at this point. One, she can continue to stall, to buy herself time like she has been while she thinks of a better way to break this. Or two, she can seize it. Go ahead and get it all out into the open.

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.

[So that's it.

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.]

[Even though his gaze drops, hers stays on him. Taking in the most minute details. He's gone quiet, that dangerous sort of quiet; she's seen it enough to know it. Maybe she can't read his mind, but she's sure she might have a fairly good idea of the thoughts that are currently going through his head.

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.]

[Climbing out of that hole isn't easy, and Spike loses his footing more than once as he tries to face the facts and figure out what he can do about them. He has to focus.

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.

[What that provides is about the furthest thing from reassurance. She can see through it in less than half a second; the chain reaction created by those thoughts is obviously written on his face. Even now, when years have passed, when circumstances have changed... Spike's reactions remain completely predictable.

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.]

[The smile doesn't last; mostly because the logistics of what he's imagining is going to be a challenge. Especially right now.

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.]

[It really does come out of nowhere. So much so that it takes her aback just a bit. As predictably as this whole scene has been playing out, this is the one thing that hasn't. Such direct questions usually aren't their forte, and she doesn't immediately know how to respond.

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.

[It's only fair that she has her own way of taking him by surprise. A few minutes ago, Spike had been convinced she was going to keep as far away from him as their situation allowed, but instead...

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.]

[It'd been a risk. A leap of faith, if you wanted to get completely cliche. For so long now, she'd been holding back, not wanting to tip the balance of something that circumstance had made so fragile. Not wanting to overstep her bounds, to force him into something that he'd have to take her word for. Fighting every last impulse to the death.

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.]

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040; action/dictated

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*too = to... fml

Didn't even notice B)

lies

would I ever lie to you? :(

hm.

i see how it is