goneawaycomms | Agent South Dakota

I— I did, I know, and I meant it, I did, I didn't want... I wouldn't...

[ She squeezes his hands tight, tries to ground herself a little firmer. Her head drops again. A couple of drops of wetness hit their hands. She exhales, slow and deep. ]

I didn't know how to live without you. I never thought I'd—

[ Admitting that hurts, in itself, somewhere inside her. It's like tearing a part of herself open. She needs to be her own person, she needs to be her, but without North nothing made sense anymore. She'd never known a world without him. ]

Yeah.

[ He says it in nearly a whisper, this time giving her the privacy of her bowed head, holding there, waiting. He'll know when to speak again. ]

I didn't— I didn't know what to do, I didn't know who I was, and then our birthday hit and I wasn't even a fucking twin anymore and— and then I was here and you were alive and....

[ She exhales, again, slow and deep but shuddering this time. This has been bottled up for a long, long time and she wants to bite her tongue, hold it in, because it's not the point, none of this is the point, but it spills out anyway. ]

Fuck. Fuck.

[ He knows she's off the point, but she seems to be working through something important here. ]

It's hard. I know it's hard. You have to reevaluate yourself. And that's tough.

[ He gives her a slight tug. Want to cry on my shoulder? ]

[ It takes her a second, almost reluctant to let go of his hands, but then she follows the tug and she buries her face in his shoulder, wraps her arms around him and clings on tight. ]

I don't— I don't know who I am if I'm not— if it's not both of us. It's always been us. You're the only one that's— that's never—

[ She's crying, but not sobbing. He's the only constant. Everyone else is gone. Everyone else gave up on her a long, long time ago. She's never been able to find a solid life outside of him because he's the only thing that stays. ]

I need to be me. But I don't know who me is if I'm not this. If I'm not— if I'm not—

[ He hadn't quite known if she was sincere about that apology until now. He rubs her back. ]

You don't have to live that way here. I'm here.

[ In some fucked-up kind of afterlife, but he's here. ]

[ She's shaking in his arms and she can't help but feel pathetic for it, even as she clings tighter, fists balled in his uniform. She let him die, she let him die and she suffered the consequences and yet he's here comforting her and fuck. ]

I— I know. I know. You're here and— and you know, you know how much I fucked up, and— fuck.

[ Exhale. Inhale. She rubs her face on his shoulder to try and stop the tears but it doesn't help. So many emotions all tangled up, all warring to get out. She's never tried to put most of this in words, still can't get them quite right even as she does. ]

[ He stays still, steady as a rock, to comfort her. ]

Yeah, I do know. I know about everything, right? And I'm still here.

[ It might have been rough going right after her confession—he'd needed some time—but that was all. Time, not a rejection. ]

[ She nods, clinging ever tighter. He's still here, despite it all. He should hate her, but he's still here. ]

You're here. [ it's quiet, barely audible ] You're... you're here.

[ She takes another deep, shuddering breath and squeezes her eyes shut tight. ]

It's like— it's like being pulled two ways. All— all the time. Like... Like...

[ She stalls, stuck on the words. ]

[ He continues to hold steady, despite her leaning on him. He pets a hand through the ends of her hair. ]

What is?

Us. Being— being us. I need... I need to be—

[ Her tongue ties up again and she breathes, focuses on physically sensation, grounds herself. He's not going anywhere. ]

I need to be my own person, Drew, but no one's ever— I've never— I can never— I don't know—

[ Inhale, exhale. A part of her wants to scream. Admitting all of this hurts, it hurts in a way she can't even describe, but so does holding it all in. ]

[ He almost feels amused, but he stuffs that down. Of course she's her own person, so much more than he is—can't she see that? ]

Two ways... Like you want to be a part of being us, but you also want to be your own?

[ She nods again, sagging a little with relief that he seems to understand, this time. That he can hear her. ]

I always— I always thought I didn't need us, but then you were gone and... and nothing made sense. But I fought so long to try and be me, for people to not just— just see me as your sister, as the bad twin. To try and have my own life! But now—

[ Exhale. Inhale. It's so conflicting. To know that life without him makes no sense, but that when he's here she can't seem to find the life she needs, whilst he has that. ]

Now I'm here and it makes sense again.

[ He gently pulls back. ]

You don't have to be the 'bad twin' to be your own, you know.

S'not like that's what I wanted to be.

[ She sniffles, a little. Her face is streaked with tear trails and she tries to wipe them off because goddammit. ]

S'just... what I am, it's what everyone sees in us. Everyone, Drew. Compare me to you and...

I don't know who I am if I'm not... all of that.

[ She almost looks small, despite the fact she's anything but. Being this open doesn't come easy to her, North knows that better than anyone. This may be the rawest he's ever seen her. ]

[ He watches her for a moment before responding. ]

Okay, well, you're abrasive and tough, so some people might see you that way. I don't, though, you know that? And I know you better than anyone.

[ He sits back on his heels, keeping his hands on her shoulders. ]

I hate to say this but it's true. What you became, after PFL? It was what they'd done to you. You remember when I had to come talk to you about petitioning for one of Carolina's AIs? What did I say? I was disappointed in you, because you knew better than that, yeah?

[ Her hands come up to rest on his wrists, not holding him in place any more than he's doing himself but rather keeping herself steady, too. Exhale, inhale. ]

I— I know that. I think.

[ Inhale, exhale. ]

Yeah. Yeah, I remember.

[ He allows that, not moving. ]

You think you would have done that before going through the program? Or do you agree with me, that it was what happened, watching me and everyone get AIs and then not getting one?

[ Her brow knits a little. She gets what he's saying, but trying to pull apart what was her, what was the Project... it's messy, all intertwined. Would she, before everything that happened? Put in a request that relied on her squadmate dying, on the hope or assumption that they would because then she'd finally get what she wanted herself? ]

I... I don't—

[ She squeezes his wrists, just a little. ]

I don't think I would? Before.

Yeah. Me neither.

[ He stands on his knees again, coming back up from sitting on his heels. ]

Thing is I know you, better than anyone, and Tex warned me about you before we left the Project and I didn't even believe her because I had known you for too long to be able to see what had happened. You know what she called you? A vulture.

[ He looks her in the eye, a look of compassion and commiseration. He never believed she had become a vulture, and then he himself paid the price. ]

But I know you, Nat. I know you have kindness and generosity and everything in you. It's just that they killed it off back there.

[ She flinches, slightly, at the word ‘vulture’; that’s what she’d become, wasn’t it? Fuck. Fuck. He shouldn’t even forgive her. How is it he can forgive her?

Her eyes are wet and filled with vulnerability, with shame. ]

S’all— s’all mixed up. I don’t know how... I don’t know how you can even tell the fuckin’ difference...

[ She’s always been a problem, even for him, especially for him. She’s always been the rough one, the one no one expects better of. Did she really change that much? Hadn’t she always been this way, when she always felt like people expected the worst, even when they were younger? ]

Between who you were and who you became?

[ He gives her shoulders a squeeze. ]

Because you were different after. Full stop. That's not who you were before.

Never... never felt like I was changing, I thought...

[ It's so much harder to see a change in yourself, especially as it happens, especially when that change is something no one else seemed to realise was a sign something was wrong. She was always the person causing problems, not a person with a problem. Not a person who needed help to stop going down a path she couldn't find a way off. ]

Look, you've always been abrasive, strong-willed...maybe a little selfish...but asking for an AI just in case the host died? That wasn't you. Never. I hardly believed it when I was told.

[ She flinches again as he lays it out flat, aloud, but it... helps, actually, and she nods. Exhales. ]

I remember— remember feeling like it was what I was owed. [ she pulls a face, she knows how it sounds and she knows it was downright callous ] Fuck. Fuck.

[ She curls in on herself, just a little. What did they do to her? ]

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