But there's still body language, and that's doing all the talking Saul isn't: he knows she can feel his heart hammering against his chest, and he knows he's holding her a little too tightly, and he knows that nuzzling her cheek the way he is isn't helping things at all.
She should, she knows she should, but all Steph can do is sigh and close her eyes and lean into the touch, just a little.
Her girlfriend is a few floors down, curled up asleep their bed, and she's here with Saul, wishing that she could kiss him. She doesn't know when everything got so screwed up, when she got so screwed up, but it feels like she passed the point of no return months ago.
This is going to keep happening; she'll try to choose Ellie, but she keeps getting drawn back to Saul no matter how much she knows she shouldn't. They're circling each other, because she can't give in and she can't let him go, and she can't leave Ellie when she loves her just as much. So it's going to keep being like this, Ellie in her bed and these secret, stolen moments with Saul.
[Effie knows he's back; he messaged her after his third listen to Steph's message to say that he'd see her later. On Saul's list of priorities, Jesse is number one, Steph is number two, and everyone else might as well be an afterthought at this point.
He hates that it's come to this, but the only set of emotions he can't seem to control or manipulate are his own — and this is where it's led him.
It scares the hell out of him even more than Walt, even more than being kidnapped, and even more than the constant threat of death because the outcome is completely unpredictable. It's beyond his experience, it's not at all what he'd expected, and for him to put his heart on the line like this for someone he knows he can never be with — that's a big deal. And that's an understatement.
The nuzzling turns to kissing, light touches of his lips to her cheek, and what he asks next is a mumble against her skin:] Why'd you bring that gun with you?
[Call him crazy, but he thinks this might all be connected.]
[She hates him for those kisses, and is so grateful to have them. She can tell herself that it's not too much, that it's not some betrayal to Ellie - and she doesn't think about how it should be impossible to rationalize being in love with someone else just because she hasn't kissed him on the lips since things with Ellie were official - because it's just kisses to her cheek, and maybe they could be innocent.
They're not, but she's gotten so good at lying to herself.
The question is something else entirely, and she tenses, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, holding on.]
What else was I gonna do?
[She sounds so bitter.
In part, it was for Ellie, because she had to prepare like Ellie was going to be able to use that gun when Steph came for her, but she knows that even if that wasn't a reason, she likely still would have come armed.
Because really, what else was she going to do? Throw batarangs at highly trained soldiers? Hit them with a stick?
She remembers fighting in against the Masked in the world they lost, how futile it was, how she died when there were too many and she wasn't good enough.
There was no way she was letting that happen again, not when she had to save the people she loves.]
[He can think of a dozen other things she could have done. With all the Bat gadgets she has, she couldn't have come up with a better plan? Maybe not batarangs and maybe not sticks, but there must have been something else...
How many people did she kill?
This reminds him of a conversation he had with Jesse last month. Being caught training with lethal firearms led to spilling the beans about his super strength — two things Saul decided to do for Jesse, for the people he's come to care so much about. And what did Jesse say?
You're better than this.
Saul thinks Steph is better than that, too. Knows she is.
What the hell is this place doing to them?]
I get it. [His voice is quiet, distant.] You did your work on the streets of Gotham, I did mine from behind a desk in Albuquerque. You and I and everyone else — we're way out of our element, Steph. This place is nothing like your home and nothing like mine, no matter how many parallels we might be able to draw between them and no matter how many familiar faces join the party. So what do we do? People like us, we adapt. We learn to fight in new ways. Right? Because neither of us is strong enough to deal with this shit like we used to.
[There's a pause as he takes a breath, measuring out his next words carefully.]
But I think — I think there's only so much fighting you can do alone before you start to forget who you are, because that stops being important. And you might think that doesn't matter as long as you're protecting people, but when you start slipping away from yourself like that, you're really slipping away from everyone who cares about you. And when I saw you with that gun, I thought... you know, that's not Stephanie. That's not Batgirl, either. I didn't know who I was looking at.
[She's so glad he's not looking at her right now; everything he says is hard to take as is, she doesn't think she could handle it if she had to see the expression on his face, right now.
As it is, she still lets out a sob at that's not Stephanie, clinging tighter to Saul, because it's true, isn't it? It's not Batgirl, either, and she remembers having to struggle to find that on the train, to act like Batgirl should for the sake of everyone else. She thought she had to be Batgirl to survive this, to protect everyone, but Batgirl shouldn't carry a gun, Batgirl shouldn't kill people, Batgirl should be better.
She doesn't know what's left.]
I'm so tired.
[And she sounds it, voice hollow, like she might give out at any moment. She's exhausted, she's been exhausted for months and it feels like there's no respite, no chance to recover from everything that gets thrown her way.
She misses her mom. She misses the feel of Gotham as she perched on a gargoyle, instead of the constant rain and misery that clings to Exsilium, and it's not like those months in Africa, because at least then it was a choice to stay. All she wants is to go home, and it's the one thing she can't do.
There's more she wants to say; I don' know what to do, or help me, but she knows she won't be able to say anything without crying, and she's so tired of that, too.
[It's better that she doesn't ask for help; Saul has no idea what he can do aside from be here for her the way he is now, hold her when she needs to be held, tell her the truth when she needs to hear it and dry her tears if it hurts too much.
He lifts a hand to stroke her hair, then sighs.]
I know.
[Saul's tired, too, exhausted in a way he's never been before. It's not the old, familiar fatigue born from working late nights — this runs much, much deeper, and if Saul were the poetic type, he might be inclined to use the word "soul" to explain it. Because he feels that way all over, through and through.
And he doesn't know what to do about that, either.]
[I know doesn't really make it better, but at least he understands, at least it doesn't feel like he's going to ask anything from her, the way everyone else does.
She knows that's not fair, and she knows it's not true, because if Walter shows up again, Saul will need her help, because he already asks so much of her, but somehow it doesn't matter so much when he's the one she keeps going to when she needs someone to hold her. Everything she said to Collette about him was the truth.
She needs this so much. As much as Saul has been part of the mess, as much as he's hurt her, too, she can't imagine what she'd be like now, if he wasn't here.]
I love you. [so very quiet, and she keeps her face hidden against his chest.] That's what I was going to say.
[That's the problem with people, Saul thinks. That's why he doesn't hold anyone to too high a standard: they're selfish, they're disappointing, they hurt you. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes not.
He never meant to hurt her.
Just like he's sure she doesn't mean to hurt him, because hearing "I love you" shouldn't make anyone feel the way Saul feels now. It makes no sense.
But he doesn't want to say what he thought of saying before, that mix of pleas for to change her mind, to not feel the way she does. He won't scare her away from it and can't force her to feel otherwise — the heart wants what it wants, right?
So he figures the best he can do now is make sure she never regrets it.
And if that means he has to stop being so stupid and shitty, fine. He'll try.
This is why, instead of trying to kiss her, he just goes on holding her the way he's been, fingers curled into her damp hair.]
[She doesn't know what she expected, really, but at least the silence is easy to take, at least he's still holding her even if there's part of her that wants him to say something. It's like waiting on the edge of a brink, scared of what way this might go, that he might pull away or move closer, but eventually the panic eases away.
He's holding her, he loves her and she loves him and it hurts, but that's just the way things are.
With a slow exhale, the tension eases from Steph's shoulders, and she rests more of her weight against Saul, still holding on but not clinging quite so tightly. She's not quite at ease, but she's more calm than she was when she walked into the room.
Nothing's going to be okay, she's never going to stop being exhausted, she's never going to stop hating herself, but she just wants to stop fighting it. This is just how things are; she needs to accept it and move on.
She has no idea how long they stand there, it could be ten seconds or a whole damn hour, but eventually she speaks up.]
Can I have a drink?
[She doesn't want to start relying on alcohol as a coping mechanism, but she just needs something right now, after the last week.]
[That's a great question. Saul's not sure he has any alcohol left, to be honest, so it takes a moment for him to answer.
A long moment.
Because he's not just thinking about whether he has any; he's thinking about this entire situation, and what he's wondering is this: does he really want another person in this apartment drinking to dull some kind of pain?
[One of the reasons why Saul loves her as much as she does is because she makes him laugh. He can't tell if she's kidding or if she really is that tired, but he's chuckling anyway, kissing her hair again before he pulls away to head for the kitchen.
But first, he sets a hand on Steph's lower back so he can guide her toward the couch. Mike's been asleep on the middle cushion for the past few minutes — the sound of movement gets her to perk up, and she yawns a curious mrow? at Steph.
Is someone finally going to pay attention to her?]
[There's no thoughts of resisting that guidance, she just curls up against the arm of the couch, careful of her leg, and lets Mike investigate by climbing all over her.
That's fine, kittens kind of do make everything better, and she looks up at Saul with a grateful smile.]
Thanks.
[It could just be thanks for going to grab her something to drink, but she really means for everything.]
[She sighs, quiet, not annoyed, but she knows he's going to worry about her.]
Vanadi, at the party. He managed to catch me with one of his blades before I shut him down. [It feels so weird to talk about the cyborg thing, but there's no way it can be a secret now, not when Vanadi was offline on the train home.] I'm okay, just trying to be careful.
[After four days of practically ignoring the injury and popping the stitches, she finally has the luxury of time, to let it heal.]
[She frowns a little, but it's more at herself, because she really should have asked about those, but it had slipped her mind in the wake of everything else.]
I don't want to know, honestly. [Ignorance is bliss.] My suit did a better job against that stuff than I'm guessing your tux did, but - yeah.
[Her burns weren't too bad, she only bandaged them for the first couple of days.]
[She tries to look sympathetic, she really does, but she can't help smiling at the melodrama. It's nice to just act like everything hasn't gone to shit, like the worst thing about the past week is Saul's tuxedo getting ruined.
Her smile stays even when he's gone off to scavenge for something to drink, and she turns her attention towards Mike, riling her up by bopping her gently on the head before letting her have revenge by chewing on Steph's fingers.
[Kittens are great. Especially his. Saul pauses in the entrance to the kitchen after he's poured Steph a glass of water to just watch the two of them and smile about it.
It's cute. It's nice. He wishes this could be a daily thing, but...
But a lot.
Eventually, he joins Steph on the couch with two glasses in hand, one of which he offers to her.]
[She takes the glass, having a sip before dipping her fingers in the water and flicking it at Mike, earning an indignant meow as the kitten tries to fix up her fur.
And then she's quiet for a long moment, just watching Mike, until she finally looks over at Saul.]
Do you wanna talk about it? The compound, I mean.
[Because she doesn't... know if he has anyone else to talk to about it, if he'd be worried about upsetting Jesse. She's gleaned a little information about it from Ellie, but still, it might have been different for Saul, and it might have affected him differently.
So she's just offering, to listen, in case he needs to get anythiing off his chest.]
[Actually, Saul thinks that's bullshit, but whatever. Her question makes him turn his attention down to his glass. No, he doesn't want to talk about it. What's there to say?]
I spent a lot of time alone. It was boring, there were tests, then it was boring again. Even the tests got boring. But —
[What he doesn't want to talk about most is Ellie. He chews his lip for a second, then presses onward anyway. Steph needs to know.]
I kept an eye on Ellie. I couldn't help you find her like I said I would, so... next best thing. We spent some time sneaking around together.
[She doesn't bother making a smart comment in response to that eight glasses a day, just sips her water and keeps Mike entertained as she waits for him to speak.
Her expression softens when he mentions Ellie.]
Thank you.
[There's so much gratitude in her voice, not just for the fact that he was willing to keep an eye on Ellie, but that he did it regardless of how he feels about her. She knows things like that aren't easy, so it means so much more.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
controlledvariable) wrote2014-02-02 07:59 pm
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[He doesn't have to apologize to her, not for this.
Though she does wish he'd just shut up and keep holding her, instead of complicating things with questions and reminders of how screwed up this is.]
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But there's still body language, and that's doing all the talking Saul isn't: he knows she can feel his heart hammering against his chest, and he knows he's holding her a little too tightly, and he knows that nuzzling her cheek the way he is isn't helping things at all.
And yet.]
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She should, she knows she should, but all Steph can do is sigh and close her eyes and lean into the touch, just a little.
Her girlfriend is a few floors down, curled up asleep their bed, and she's here with Saul, wishing that she could kiss him. She doesn't know when everything got so screwed up, when she got so screwed up, but it feels like she passed the point of no return months ago.
This is going to keep happening; she'll try to choose Ellie, but she keeps getting drawn back to Saul no matter how much she knows she shouldn't. They're circling each other, because she can't give in and she can't let him go, and she can't leave Ellie when she loves her just as much. So it's going to keep being like this, Ellie in her bed and these secret, stolen moments with Saul.
And it's going to keep hurting.]
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He hates that it's come to this, but the only set of emotions he can't seem to control or manipulate are his own — and this is where it's led him.
It scares the hell out of him even more than Walt, even more than being kidnapped, and even more than the constant threat of death because the outcome is completely unpredictable. It's beyond his experience, it's not at all what he'd expected, and for him to put his heart on the line like this for someone he knows he can never be with — that's a big deal. And that's an understatement.
The nuzzling turns to kissing, light touches of his lips to her cheek, and what he asks next is a mumble against her skin:] Why'd you bring that gun with you?
[Call him crazy, but he thinks this might all be connected.]
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They're not, but she's gotten so good at lying to herself.
The question is something else entirely, and she tenses, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, holding on.]
What else was I gonna do?
[She sounds so bitter.
In part, it was for Ellie, because she had to prepare like Ellie was going to be able to use that gun when Steph came for her, but she knows that even if that wasn't a reason, she likely still would have come armed.
Because really, what else was she going to do? Throw batarangs at highly trained soldiers? Hit them with a stick?
She remembers fighting in against the Masked in the world they lost, how futile it was, how she died when there were too many and she wasn't good enough.
There was no way she was letting that happen again, not when she had to save the people she loves.]
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How many people did she kill?
This reminds him of a conversation he had with Jesse last month. Being caught training with lethal firearms led to spilling the beans about his super strength — two things Saul decided to do for Jesse, for the people he's come to care so much about. And what did Jesse say?
You're better than this.
Saul thinks Steph is better than that, too. Knows she is.
What the hell is this place doing to them?]
I get it. [His voice is quiet, distant.] You did your work on the streets of Gotham, I did mine from behind a desk in Albuquerque. You and I and everyone else — we're way out of our element, Steph. This place is nothing like your home and nothing like mine, no matter how many parallels we might be able to draw between them and no matter how many familiar faces join the party. So what do we do? People like us, we adapt. We learn to fight in new ways. Right? Because neither of us is strong enough to deal with this shit like we used to.
[There's a pause as he takes a breath, measuring out his next words carefully.]
But I think — I think there's only so much fighting you can do alone before you start to forget who you are, because that stops being important. And you might think that doesn't matter as long as you're protecting people, but when you start slipping away from yourself like that, you're really slipping away from everyone who cares about you. And when I saw you with that gun, I thought... you know, that's not Stephanie. That's not Batgirl, either. I didn't know who I was looking at.
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As it is, she still lets out a sob at that's not Stephanie, clinging tighter to Saul, because it's true, isn't it? It's not Batgirl, either, and she remembers having to struggle to find that on the train, to act like Batgirl should for the sake of everyone else. She thought she had to be Batgirl to survive this, to protect everyone, but Batgirl shouldn't carry a gun, Batgirl shouldn't kill people, Batgirl should be better.
She doesn't know what's left.]
I'm so tired.
[And she sounds it, voice hollow, like she might give out at any moment. She's exhausted, she's been exhausted for months and it feels like there's no respite, no chance to recover from everything that gets thrown her way.
She misses her mom. She misses the feel of Gotham as she perched on a gargoyle, instead of the constant rain and misery that clings to Exsilium, and it's not like those months in Africa, because at least then it was a choice to stay. All she wants is to go home, and it's the one thing she can't do.
There's more she wants to say; I don' know what to do, or help me, but she knows she won't be able to say anything without crying, and she's so tired of that, too.
She just wants to go home.]
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He lifts a hand to stroke her hair, then sighs.]
I know.
[Saul's tired, too, exhausted in a way he's never been before. It's not the old, familiar fatigue born from working late nights — this runs much, much deeper, and if Saul were the poetic type, he might be inclined to use the word "soul" to explain it. Because he feels that way all over, through and through.
And he doesn't know what to do about that, either.]
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She knows that's not fair, and she knows it's not true, because if Walter shows up again, Saul will need her help, because he already asks so much of her, but somehow it doesn't matter so much when he's the one she keeps going to when she needs someone to hold her. Everything she said to Collette about him was the truth.
She needs this so much. As much as Saul has been part of the mess, as much as he's hurt her, too, she can't imagine what she'd be like now, if he wasn't here.]
I love you. [so very quiet, and she keeps her face hidden against his chest.] That's what I was going to say.
[As if he didn't know.]
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He never meant to hurt her.
Just like he's sure she doesn't mean to hurt him, because hearing "I love you" shouldn't make anyone feel the way Saul feels now. It makes no sense.
But he doesn't want to say what he thought of saying before, that mix of pleas for to change her mind, to not feel the way she does. He won't scare her away from it and can't force her to feel otherwise — the heart wants what it wants, right?
So he figures the best he can do now is make sure she never regrets it.
And if that means he has to stop being so stupid and shitty, fine. He'll try.
This is why, instead of trying to kiss her, he just goes on holding her the way he's been, fingers curled into her damp hair.]
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He's holding her, he loves her and she loves him and it hurts, but that's just the way things are.
With a slow exhale, the tension eases from Steph's shoulders, and she rests more of her weight against Saul, still holding on but not clinging quite so tightly. She's not quite at ease, but she's more calm than she was when she walked into the room.
Nothing's going to be okay, she's never going to stop being exhausted, she's never going to stop hating herself, but she just wants to stop fighting it. This is just how things are; she needs to accept it and move on.
She has no idea how long they stand there, it could be ten seconds or a whole damn hour, but eventually she speaks up.]
Can I have a drink?
[She doesn't want to start relying on alcohol as a coping mechanism, but she just needs something right now, after the last week.]
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A long moment.
Because he's not just thinking about whether he has any; he's thinking about this entire situation, and what he's wondering is this: does he really want another person in this apartment drinking to dull some kind of pain?
No, not really.]
You want some water? Water and a kitten, maybe?
[Mike's just as good as booze, right?]
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I can't drink a kitten.
[She's really tired.]
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But first, he sets a hand on Steph's lower back so he can guide her toward the couch. Mike's been asleep on the middle cushion for the past few minutes — the sound of movement gets her to perk up, and she yawns a curious mrow? at Steph.
Is someone finally going to pay attention to her?]
Here, sit. Relax. I'll see what we have.
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That's fine, kittens kind of do make everything better, and she looks up at Saul with a grateful smile.]
Thanks.
[It could just be thanks for going to grab her something to drink, but she really means for everything.]
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What happened?
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Vanadi, at the party. He managed to catch me with one of his blades before I shut him down. [It feels so weird to talk about the cyborg thing, but there's no way it can be a secret now, not when Vanadi was offline on the train home.] I'm okay, just trying to be careful.
[After four days of practically ignoring the injury and popping the stitches, she finally has the luxury of time, to let it heal.]
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He holds his arms out, indicating the bandages, then shrugs.]
Acid burns. Actually, blood... acid burns. Bloody acid tears? Whatever the hell it was. But I'm okay, too.
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I don't want to know, honestly. [Ignorance is bliss.] My suit did a better job against that stuff than I'm guessing your tux did, but - yeah.
[Her burns weren't too bad, she only bandaged them for the first couple of days.]
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He pouts.]
That was such a nice tux...
[A moment of silence for all that fanciness, and he finally heads into the kitchen.]
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Her smile stays even when he's gone off to scavenge for something to drink, and she turns her attention towards Mike, riling her up by bopping her gently on the head before letting her have revenge by chewing on Steph's fingers.
Seriously. Kittens are great.]
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It's cute. It's nice. He wishes this could be a daily thing, but...
But a lot.
Eventually, he joins Steph on the couch with two glasses in hand, one of which he offers to her.]
Here. Best I could do.
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[She takes the glass, having a sip before dipping her fingers in the water and flicking it at Mike, earning an indignant meow as the kitten tries to fix up her fur.
And then she's quiet for a long moment, just watching Mike, until she finally looks over at Saul.]
Do you wanna talk about it? The compound, I mean.
[Because she doesn't... know if he has anyone else to talk to about it, if he'd be worried about upsetting Jesse. She's gleaned a little information about it from Ellie, but still, it might have been different for Saul, and it might have affected him differently.
So she's just offering, to listen, in case he needs to get anythiing off his chest.]
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[Actually, Saul thinks that's bullshit, but whatever. Her question makes him turn his attention down to his glass. No, he doesn't want to talk about it. What's there to say?]
I spent a lot of time alone. It was boring, there were tests, then it was boring again. Even the tests got boring. But —
[What he doesn't want to talk about most is Ellie. He chews his lip for a second, then presses onward anyway. Steph needs to know.]
I kept an eye on Ellie. I couldn't help you find her like I said I would, so... next best thing. We spent some time sneaking around together.
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Her expression softens when he mentions Ellie.]
Thank you.
[There's so much gratitude in her voice, not just for the fact that he was willing to keep an eye on Ellie, but that he did it regardless of how he feels about her. She knows things like that aren't easy, so it means so much more.]
Did you find anything interesting?
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