Leon Scott Kennedy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
outbreaks) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2012-12-19 08:08 pm
outbreaks) wrote in bakerstreet2012-12-19 08:08 pm
Entry tags:
cuz death is my chance to be free
You may once have been a great hero, or a modest regular person. But something has pushed you past the limit. There's simply no going back to who you used to be. To be seen now, your friends, your family, would they even recognize you? Your savior was too late. The pain was too much. The pleasure was too intense. You've been short-circuited.
You're broken.
A. Post with the usual stuff! Note somewhere if there are any options you aren't okay with.
B. People can reply, with a roll for their characters or ask if you want to roll for yours in that thread.
C. Probably some triggers involved here. Read at your own discretion, etc.
1. Pain.
You've been pushed beyond your limits and become light-headed, 'floaty'. The sight of your own blood doesn't provoke a reaction anymore, and seeing a friend might cause you to smile, or talk strangely. You might not even recognize them. It doesn't hurt anymore. It's alright now.
2. Lust.
No, no, no became yes, yes, yes. Dignity and self-respect have faded, replaced by an insatiable and alien feeling of want. You've reached a point where shame doesn't even occur to you anymore. Your eyes seem out of focus and your smile doesn't look right. Look, I've made so many friends who like me...! Do anything to me if it feels good.
3. Shock.
What has been seen cannot be unseen. A revelation about a friend, a loved one, an enemy- something has shocked you in a way you can never reverse. It may change not only the way you look at someone or something, but also the way you see the rest of your life. I saw nothing, I saw nothing, I saw...
4. Oppressed.
What's it like outside my cage? Your spirit of rebellion or confidence has been cracked, and your rescuers might not be there in time to salvage what's left of your spirits. You've long since accepted that getting away from this oppression is impossible- Perhaps you've even become attached to it as the only way to live life. Yes, sir. No, sir. Sorry, sir.
5. Corruption.
Something has eroded you. You're not like you used to be. You're obsessive, your face is darker. You may even see who you were before as weak or useless. Whether it's a magic ring or Phazon infecting your body, you're going grimdark and it's looking a little too late to pull you out of it. This power is far greater than what I had before! To think I used to believe in justice!
6. Hysteria.
When you talk, you don't make any sense. Pure Charisma Break. Maybe you were a god stripped of your might, or you've suffered a terrible defeat. Either way your ego has snapped, leaving you a total mess and unable to function. But how could this be? How could I lose?!
7. Desperation.
Where before you were airy, confident, in control of yourself, you're now a ragged and fuming pile of hopeless anger. As a fighter you may have been careful or even graceful; now you swing wildly, strike without precision. You simply cannot accept the situation, cannot accept your own fall. It's not over! I'm still in control! I can still fix everything!
8. Isolated.
You've been alone for such a long time. Everyone's gone, now. Maybe zombies or mutants or flesh-eating ants killed them all. You've found people again, but your time in solitude's left you changed. Not for the better.you can mix/change/double-up/whatever on these. enjoy.
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[It's just under fifteen minutes when she finds herself walking back up to his door, with Henry waiting in the back of the car. She thought about sending him up instead, but that thought was sidelined by her need to make a point of showing him just how not upset she is about the things he said earlier. Because you can't care about the reaction of someone who means less than nothing to you, so she's fine.
She even rings the doorbell this time.]
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When will she be coming back?
[ He manages to direct the question to Emma, brow knitting. ]
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It's just ice cream, maybe two hours? Henry left his storybook at the apartment and he's been wanting to show it to her.
[If this is uncomfortable, Emma is determined not to show it this time.]
I'll have her call and check in if you want.
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[ He forces a thin smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He is trying, whatever else she might think of him at this point.
A pat on the back and Grace is on her way to the car. Jefferson's eyes remain trained on her, his smile fading by degrees. ]
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[If she doesn't just send Grace up on her own, or with Henry. She's as tense as he is, but she let her expression change until she turns toward the car and has her back to him, sighing with the relief of getting through it without getting sidetracked.
But she keeps her word about time, and it is just minutes under that promised two hour timeframe when she walks Grace back up to the door, laughing with the girl as she tells her a story about Mary Margaret making a volcano. They didn't keep to Granny's and Granny's alone; ice cream was followed by the stop at the apartment, which resulted in some time spent going over the storybook page by page.
Henry told plenty of stories about Emma, Grace told a few about Jefferson, they made popcorn and finished all of it and those two hours felt too short by the time all was said and done. In spite of what it took to get the girl out of the house, Emma is glad she did it. She likes Grace on her own, for being sweet, and considerate, and for the strength she finds in those bright eyes.
She lets Grace ring the bell and waits with her, glancing down at her watch to check the time again.]
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And then his eyes travel up to Emma, and the smile fades just a touch. Not enough to disappear, but perhaps it's a little more solemn now. It's not easy to admit that Emma was right about this, about Grace, but it's clear now that she only ever had his daughter's best interests at heart.
Grace pipes up, insisting that she wants to tell him what happened, and Jefferson finds his attention stolen up by her once more. ]
Go and get ready for bed. You can tell me all about it.
[ A kiss to the head and he lets her slip inside with a final wave goodbye to Emma. That leaves just the two of them on the porch, for the moment. ]
...thank you.
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Things like this should happen. Grace shouldn't have to fall into the same habits as her father. Besides, Emma thinks she kind of likes having another girl to talk to. Jefferson might be obsessed with being a good parent, but he can't cover everything on his own.]
Don't mention it, she's a good kid.
[She shrugs and takes a step backward, not wanting to drag this out any longer than she has to. He accused her of trying to take his kid away earlier, he wants to look for ways she can hurt him, and all she really wants to do is forget. It'd be a lot simpler if she could, if seeing him didn't bring a dozen feelings up that she has to work to fight down every time. Because one way or another, it's always fighting when it comes to him.]
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[ Emma is all about facts, reason, what she can see with her own two eyes or hear with her own ears. Belief, faith, and trust, all take longer than that, and he's earned only one of those as of late because of the curse finally being broken. She has to see what he is, what marks him as plain as any scar.
The sensible thing to do when the world told you something you didn't and couldn't believe would be to leave it all behind. He knows that. He knows too that the sensible thing to do in this case would be to take Grace. But Emma has personal bias against children being taken from their parents, so perhaps that is his saving grace...not any feeling she might still have for him.
He's not perfect. But for Grace's sake he'll try as hard as he can to be a better person, better father. That means doing what's necessary above all else. He wets his lips, a breath taken before speaking. ]
...you were right. She...she doesn't need to stay in this house out of fear. She doesn't need to become me. I don't want that.
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[He doesn't have to stay inside anymore, everyone remembers their lives. There must be friends he can reconnect with, people he knew from that life who he wants to get in touch with. If it isn't healthy for Grace, it isn't healthy for him, either. ...But Emma isn't supposed to concern herself with this, so she isn't sure why she's saying it.
She is sure of why she doesn't spend too much time looking at him. He's damaged and frightened and wearing that openly tonight. She keeps her gaze off of him as much as possible, it's not her problem now.]
Grace talks about you like you hung the moon. She needs this, you. But she shouldn't have to carry the burden of taking care of you all the time.
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[ He cuts himself off, hands sliding into his pockets as he glances off into the trees over Emma's shoulders, the driveway, the yellow bug. ]
Not anymore. You don't understand. I see them, the way their eyes have opened up. They understand now. And all I feel is anger. I'm not even sure why.
[ He's had it happen before, the frustration boil over, the urge to reach out and take the nearest person and shake them. Now they see, now they understand. They couldn't hear him before but now it's a revelation to them and no one's thought to ask what happened to him. No one listens to him, no one ever hears him.
Except when they need him, he remembers, recalling the wraith that tore through town and flipped his car, trapped him until Charming came along. Not to save him, no, because of the damn hat. No one in this town cared. No one ever had, except for... ]
Besides, if the Prince was any indication, I don't think there are many friends in town to be had.
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[If for no other reason, because of what Regina hinted at in front of him and Mary Margaret. It couldn't be done when it was just the two of them, no. She tried to pull the shame card in front of parents who were so new Emma didn't even know whether or not she cared what they thought of that.
She knows David went looking for answers about the hat. Apparently it didn't go very well with him, and it didn't go a lot better when Henry tried it. She has accepted that Jefferson didn't want them to come back, that his life would have been a lot easier if he didn't have to face her like this, and deal with all of the anger she feels when she's near him. But that's too bad, this her town too. Henry needs her as much as Grace needs him.]
Grace needs to have a life out in the open, and all she wants is for you to be a part of it.
[This is why she should have sent Grace up to the door herself. Emma's doing it again, telling him how to raise his kid when she barely knows what it takes herself. But for this girl to have been through what she has, to leave one perfectly good family and go back to her father and then deal with his twenty-eight years of issues is too much.
She sighs, shaking her head as she hears the echoes of Grace moving through that house.]
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[ His voice is tight and dry. Charming's got nothing to worry about, Emma hates him. He wants nothing to do with that family or it's complications, and yet here she is meddling in his. He can't tell yet if that's sweet or just irritating, but he's willing to settle on the latter for now. ]
No. She has a life out there, and...maybe that's what she needs. But I don't. I don't need to go out and make new friends, Emma. Not with Cora on our doorstep. I don't need more people to lose.
[ He retreats a step, and there's a brief, ragged sort of edge to the way he looks at her. He could laugh at himself for being the fool he'd been, for trusting Regina. For letting go of hope. He'd laugh because he's tired of the alternative, and he won't do that with Grace so near. ]
One was enough.
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[Emma never says these things with even a little thought beforehand, but this time, she'll stand by it. She's not even ashamed of the way her voice softens with disappointment. Maybe her parents didn't abandon her the way she thought they did, but she still feels like the same lonely, unwanted child she grew up believing she was. And the foster families who got tired of her didn't help matters any, because they sent her away without another thought. Then there was Neal, now Jefferson.
If she has a destiny, it's a lousy one.]
August thought he was dying, and do you know what the last thing he said to me was? He said I could save Henry. He said I could save Storybrooke. But where were you, Jefferson? When my kid was dying, where were you?
[That was the wrong choice of words. Not because it isn't true, but because of the way her tone wavers just to get through it. She knows she's not much more than a prophecized pawn to him, but if he was going to build her up by insisting she was the savior, the least he could have done was stick around when it was all falling apart.
She won't laugh or cry for him, but she swallows hard, her eyes settling on him for now since he shouldn't get off the hook so easily. He should have to look her in the eye and admit he used her. She's tired of him pretending it mattered.]
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His fingers curl at his sides, his voice gone soft. ]
And what is it you wanted from me? To stand beside you in your great quest to vanquish evil from the land? If I could have helped you in any way I would have, but I couldn't. I can't.
[ He blinks once, twice, that same twitchy rapid motion he'd displayed when she called him insane that first night. She sees him too clearly, and it feels like for all the world he can't bring that armor back up again. ]
...I'm not like you.
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[If he mentions her being the savior one more time, this is going to come to blows. All he's done is take advantage of that knowledge; he knew Regina would have done anything to get rid of her, and he tried to help her do it. He knew she was scared of the responsibility, and he kept coming back just enough for her to get used to him being there. It shouldn't surprise her that he bailed when it got inconvenient, but the part of it where he acts like he lost something, that does.
Why so completely turn your back on a person only to play the victim later?]
I didn't need you to fight beside me, I didn't - I was scared, I was losing everything and you were the only one who knew what was going on. You used me, I get that, but stop pretending you're sorry about it.
[She takes a step forward, unwavering in her determination to hear some kind of confession out of him now. Not like her? He is exactly like her, fighting to keep hold of every good thing he's ever had.
Jefferson knows it, too. He knows why she kept coming back here. And she wants to ask him how. How he could do what he did when she was starting to trust him in spite of everything he did the night they met, but what's the point? He says she's not like her. He won't stand beside her.
He won't even tell her the truth.]
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[ He almost laughs, the short jerk of shoulders betraying that he still might. That incredulous smile quickly fades, however, eyes going dark. ]
Right. That's all anyone ever does. If I used you, then you used me, too, and that's all there is to it.
[ His eyes narrow slightly, voice still low but strained slightly now as he rediscovers his grip on the door. ]
Unless it was something else to you. But that can't be right. If it was more than that, you wouldn't have left.
[ And it comes, that swell of paranoia. She's judging him for what he's done, and maybe that's fair, but she can't pretend that he was pushing for this to happen, nor that he ever pretended to be more than he was. This was no plan of his, and what had happened was the result of two incomplete, broken people trying to mend. But Emma's not destined for that, she'd never choose to settle for that when things progressed to their natural conclusion. The funny thing? It wouldn't even matter so terribly to him. He wanted to see her happy for a change, even if it meant her using him when it was convenient.
It was seeing her packed, seeing the look in her eyes that said she was withdrawing and fleeing, that he knew. He was never meant to be a part of her story, and he'd been an idiot to think so. Had Regina held up her end of the bargain, he'd have been able to start over, forget about her, about everything...instead he's forced to stare her in the face. ]
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[In that action alone he got to play judge, jury, and executioner. If Henry hadn't done what he did, she would be dead right now, and there would be no bringing her back. And even with that knowledge, she wishes Henry had stayed out of it. No one knows how to stop his nightmares, and controlling them isn't good enough for her.]
All you cared about was breaking the curse. As soon as you thought I wasn't going to do that, who cared if I lived or died, right? I bet you thought I was getting what I deserved.
[She keeps her voice tight now, less emotional than before but still quiet. What happened the night it rained, that's...it was what it was. Maybe he manipulated her to try to get her to stay, maybe he thought it would make a difference. All of this started when he realized it wouldn't, because it was never about him. Emma tried to do things the right way; she planned to see him before she left.
She should have done it before she saw Henry, that way he could have had a good laugh at how stupid she was to care about him. He wants to laugh at her, she knows that. This is a joke to him, how gullible Emma Swan was when she was feeling low. She crosses her arms against her chest, on the defense, as usual.]
I thought I was hurting Henry. Archie all but told me as much, that's why I was leaving.
[Not to hurt him, to keep from hurting her son. Not that it matters to him, or ever didl.]
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There's something good in you, Jefferson, and I don't think you even know it's still in there. And just like that, it was all lost, and she chose to be angry with him for the regret he felt? The guilt, the hurt? She had no idea of what it was like, seeing that sliver of light after so many years in the dark, and to be threatened with its loss. He'd acted irrationally, out of desperation rather than malice, couldn't she see that? Impatience bites at his tone. ]
I told you already. I thought that once the Queen knew you were leaving, she wouldn't need the apple. That's not what happened, I know, but I wasn't trying to get you killed. And if all I cared about was breaking the curse, then that wouldn't have been an issue.
[ It was, admittedly, a detail he'd been unaware of until Regina let it slip, the answer to why she didn't simply kill Emma as opposed to go through the trouble of procuring magic from their world, a far more taxing task. His jaw sets rigidly. ]
...I don't suppose Gold told you that your death would have broken the curse.
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[But she's always the last to know, isn't she? The last to know what she was, what she could do, the last to see through all of this. That's why she's pushing so hard, even if she doesn't stop to explain it. Because it's easier to believe that someone doesn't care than to try to understand how someone could and still make her feel like this. She shakes her head, looking a little lost, like she might be grasping for some kind understanding where she can't find any.]
But if you had warned me that Regina was coming after me, I would have stayed.
[Jefferson didn't try, he had already given up on her. He found another way to get what he wanted, and that was the end of it. No, she hadn't been using him. Using him would have meant that he wouldn't have been able to hurt her. When she thinks of the times she found herself with him, she hadn't been looking for anything in particular. Comfort, maybe, at times. But she wanted to give it, too.
She looks away, back toward the car to give herself a break for a moment. Sometimes she struggles with keeping it up; showing anger instead of anything else, and this is one of those times. Emma remembers his arms around her just as well as his strength in that first fight. So which is it?]
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[ They could do this all night, without question. But why? What would it achieve in the end either than both of them just turning around and going back to their loved ones regretting this more? Her opinion of him certainly can't go any lower, if she honestly believes that he wanted to see her come to harm, to disappear and never return. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
Inside, he hears Grace's voice call from upstairs, and he shifts his grip on the door. Something like resignation crosses his face. ]
I know what you really think of me, and there isn't much of a reason for you think anything else. So I'm done. I'm...tired of trying to convince people of things they don't want to believe. So believe what you want.
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[Emma can hear the girl calling for her father and it brings her back to reality. What she wants to believe and what she actually does are two different things. The things that would make this easier are harder to buy into, and what feels like the truth would never be enough to get her to hate him. None of it matters if she can stay away from this house, and yet...]
I gave Grace my number. I told her that the next time she feels like getting out of the house, she can talk to you about it and give me a call.
[She shrugs, biting back a question of whether or not that was alright. It's done now, and Grace seemed grateful for it.]
But it's up to you.
[Since he doesn't trust her and thinks she's out to take his child away, because for some reason, he's decided that's the type of person she is.]
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[ Teeth dig into the inside of his lip before he nods. There's only so much he can do here, and all he's ever wanted for her is what she needs, to be able to provide for Grace. If Emma is willing to help, for Grace's sake, he shouldn't be so ready to turn her away.
This isn't about him, or them. It's about his daughter and what's best for her, and he's already proven there's nothing he won't do for her. ]
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[There's nothing left to say, is there? Emma nods and reaches up, pushing a few strands of hair away from her face before she sighs, ready to go.]
Goodnight, Jefferson.
[She doesn't wait for a response before she starts back to the car.
Next time, Grace is walking up on her own.]