[Well he could just go and tie himself up for NIMA in the morgue again. Why didn't he think? He's supposed to be good at that. Was supposed to be, once. It was going to have to come up at some point, for all that he knows both of them are firm believers in the power of leaving things unspoken and behind them. But here? Now?]
The house you killed Jack in. We hardly have to talk about it, either. It was done. It's over.
[ It's like an offering - he deserves to know what she did. He deserves to know that she trusts him enough to tell him. That, and there's a tiny part of her that thinks she needs to be punished for it. What better way than by laying out her sin for Beckett to see?
(The same part is also telling her that this is selfish, she'd burdening him with the knowledge, she's using people just like she always has. She can't win.) ]
Jack medicated himself into a stupor and checked out. The gurgling mess that was left was definitely Rhys.
[He sees it - how can he not? He knows sin an he knows sacrifice, and the picture she paints is appallingly clear. Angel with her blade - it would have been a blade - over her captor and victim, killing what she loves to save it, like her whole life in miniature. And alone. If she killed Rhys while Jack was out of it, how did she die?
There's a sudden, concentrated ache under his ribs, like his mortal heart is constricting, buckling under the thought of her being alone. Dignity be damned. Whatever unspoken rules of avoidance they have be damned. He switches the feed to video. If he can't hold her, at least he needs to see her face.]
[ She can't. She can't. She's streaked with tears and intensely ashamed of herself for starters, and there's the issue of her missing tattoos. It'd be less of an ordeal to go back to her bunker and sit there forever, at least reassured by the knowledge that nobody can see.
But not doing it would be worse still. Because Beckett is crying and she did that and to keep hiding would be like spitting in his face.
She does button up her coat and pull the sleeve down over her hand before making the switch to video herself, though. It's silly - doubly silly since her eyes no longer glow, which isn't something she can hide - but it makes her feel a little less exposed all the same.
It takes another second for her to actually look at him through her curtain of hair, but she does it. Baby steps. ]
[It's strange and confusing and appallingly human, the way the sight of her face brings a wave of emotions all tangled together. Is it fear or is it relief? Her eyes don't glow. He only has a dim memory of when his had stopped. Too busy to think about it at the time... out of her view, he brushes his gloved hands together, and runs the tip of the tongue over his blunted fangs.
He's not wearing his glasses. No tears shed, but his eyes are bloodshot and damp, and there's a telltale raspy catch in his voice. He could pass it off at the aftermath of a coughing fit if he had to, but he doesn't care. Fiona, Haurchefant, Watson - he doesn't care what they see. He's speaking to her and her alone.]
Look at me.
[And she does, and his mortal heart could stop.]
I'm going to dispense some hard to swallow adult wisdom in just a moment, if you're worried on that account. But before that, I want you to know that I love you. Whatever you've done, think you've done, thought of doing - I couldn't care less about any of it. In three hundred years I've never wanted to turn anyone, but if you willed it, if I could - I would make you my childe without a moment's thought. Nothing you can tell me will change that.
[ Welp. Her face crumples again at that, and her attempt at actually saying something turns into an embarrassingly loud sob. There's a few seconds of tearful struggling before she finally gives up, holds up a finger and splutters something that sounds an awful lot like jusseconigottaboohoohoo before setting the tablet aside.
She's back a few seconds later. With tissues. She's been carrying these around for ages and now they're all going to get used up AND SHE DOESN'T EVEN CARE. ]
Love you too. A lot. [sniff] But you know that. I'm - I - ugh, I'm a mess, sorry -
[ Since when is she the one who can't deal with things? So dumb. She scrubs at her face with the tissues almost angrily, frustrated beyond reason at how the tears are coming so easily while words don't, and huffs in exasperation. ]
Thank you. For - for thinking I'm worth that. But for the record, you don't have to turn me for us to be family. Because we - that's. It's already a thing.
[ Inelegantly expressed, maybe, but it comes with a watery smile. A proper one. That counts for something, right ]
[Beckett waits for her with quiet dadpire patience. He's not surprised at the tears. He's practically crying, so Angel is more than entitled to some boohoohoo (curse her for having tissues though all he's got is a rather traumatised handkerchief).
He holds off on any further tear-inducing comments for now. Because dignity. His and also hers. A matched set. It's one of the reasons - not for how much he loves her, though he does that a lot, but why he cherishes her as he does. Worries about her as he does. Because he knows.
Possibly that is what family means.]
Yes - yes, it is. [His voice is quiet, because this is still a strange confession, a strange feeling, but that doesn't make it any less true. The Kindred are gone and he belongs nowhere in all the worlds, but he belongs with her, with them.]
But as for - [He clears his throat slightly, wanting to look away and gather his thoughts among all these feelings, but not daring to.] You've spoken to Rhys since waking, I assume. You must have.
Erm - yes. Of course. I had about a billion messages from him waiting when I came around, so I let him know I was alright as soon as possible.
[ Talking about other people is, as always, easier. She's a little more composed already, though her anxiety shows through a little more than it ordinarily would. Her guard is already down, it'd feel dishonest - disrespectful - to put it back up. ]
He's - I'm sure he'll be alright now. I was a little worried I'd been gone significantly longer than he was, so it's good to know it wasn't that long.
It didn't even occur to me that I'd come back last. Stupid of me, really.
It's rarely occurred to anyone. [A simple reassurance to give, since in his experience that's been simple fact. He's not about to tell her much else that is simple, so at least there is this.
But there is a lot else. He takes a bracing breath.]
He'll be all right. He's surprisingly durable. [At any other time there would be a joke here. Now, this is actually said with unconditional respect.] You did right. I know it, he knows it, and you'll know it too, at some point. But I expect it will be a while. It takes time, and... experience, to work off the effects of looking someone in the eye as you kill them.
no subject
Date: 2016-06-06 03:35 pm (UTC)The house you killed Jack in. We hardly have to talk about it, either. It was done. It's over.
[These things are rarely ever over.]
no subject
Date: 2016-06-06 03:50 pm (UTC)No. The house I killed Rhys in.
[ It's like an offering - he deserves to know what she did. He deserves to know that she trusts him enough to tell him. That, and there's a tiny part of her that thinks she needs to be punished for it. What better way than by laying out her sin for Beckett to see?
(The same part is also telling her that this is selfish, she'd burdening him with the knowledge, she's using people just like she always has. She can't win.) ]
Jack medicated himself into a stupor and checked out. The gurgling mess that was left was definitely Rhys.
video; STILL CRYING
Date: 2016-06-08 03:35 pm (UTC)There's a sudden, concentrated ache under his ribs, like his mortal heart is constricting, buckling under the thought of her being alone. Dignity be damned. Whatever unspoken rules of avoidance they have be damned. He switches the feed to video. If he can't hold her, at least he needs to see her face.]
Angel. Look at me.
video; hOW DARE YOU DO THIS,
Date: 2016-06-08 04:20 pm (UTC)But not doing it would be worse still. Because Beckett is crying and she did that and to keep hiding would be like spitting in his face.
She does button up her coat and pull the sleeve down over her hand before making the switch to video herself, though. It's silly - doubly silly since her eyes no longer glow, which isn't something she can hide - but it makes her feel a little less exposed all the same.
It takes another second for her to actually look at him through her curtain of hair, but she does it. Baby steps. ]
Sorry.
I DO WHAT I WAaaaaaaaaa...
Date: 2016-06-09 12:01 pm (UTC)He's not wearing his glasses. No tears shed, but his eyes are bloodshot and damp, and there's a telltale raspy catch in his voice. He could pass it off at the aftermath of a coughing fit if he had to, but he doesn't care. Fiona, Haurchefant, Watson - he doesn't care what they see. He's speaking to her and her alone.]
Look at me.
[And she does, and his mortal heart could stop.]
I'm going to dispense some hard to swallow adult wisdom in just a moment, if you're worried on that account. But before that, I want you to know that I love you. Whatever you've done, think you've done, thought of doing - I couldn't care less about any of it. In three hundred years I've never wanted to turn anyone, but if you willed it, if I could - I would make you my childe without a moment's thought. Nothing you can tell me will change that.
no subject
Date: 2016-06-10 09:07 pm (UTC)She's back a few seconds later. With tissues. She's been carrying these around for ages and now they're all going to get used up AND SHE DOESN'T EVEN CARE. ]
Love you too. A lot. [sniff] But you know that. I'm - I - ugh, I'm a mess, sorry -
[ Since when is she the one who can't deal with things? So dumb. She scrubs at her face with the tissues almost angrily, frustrated beyond reason at how the tears are coming so easily while words don't, and huffs in exasperation. ]
Thank you. For - for thinking I'm worth that. But for the record, you don't have to turn me for us to be family. Because we - that's. It's already a thing.
[ Inelegantly expressed, maybe, but it comes with a watery smile. A proper one. That counts for something, right ]
no subject
Date: 2016-06-19 05:01 pm (UTC)He holds off on any further tear-inducing comments for now. Because dignity. His and also hers. A matched set. It's one of the reasons - not for how much he loves her, though he does that a lot, but why he cherishes her as he does. Worries about her as he does. Because he knows.
Possibly that is what family means.]
Yes - yes, it is. [His voice is quiet, because this is still a strange confession, a strange feeling, but that doesn't make it any less true. The Kindred are gone and he belongs nowhere in all the worlds, but he belongs with her, with them.]
But as for - [He clears his throat slightly, wanting to look away and gather his thoughts among all these feelings, but not daring to.] You've spoken to Rhys since waking, I assume. You must have.
no subject
Date: 2016-06-19 07:15 pm (UTC)[ Talking about other people is, as always, easier. She's a little more composed already, though her anxiety shows through a little more than it ordinarily would. Her guard is already down, it'd feel dishonest - disrespectful - to put it back up. ]
He's - I'm sure he'll be alright now. I was a little worried I'd been gone significantly longer than he was, so it's good to know it wasn't that long.
It didn't even occur to me that I'd come back last. Stupid of me, really.
no subject
Date: 2016-06-20 09:29 am (UTC)But there is a lot else. He takes a bracing breath.]
He'll be all right. He's surprisingly durable. [At any other time there would be a joke here. Now, this is actually said with unconditional respect.] You did right. I know it, he knows it, and you'll know it too, at some point. But I expect it will be a while. It takes time, and... experience, to work off the effects of looking someone in the eye as you kill them.