walking a tightrope with you

Maeve

The thing about living with someone for a season means you start to pick up on their tells. The little twitches and movements that give away there is something more is going on. She's been worried about this part. The part where she tells him that she's moving out, but that she wants him to come with her if that's what he wants. Maeve has been thinking about how she's going to do things, already deciding that she's going to limit those that she sees, only taking on those that are business arrangements. Not that she's had a chance to tell him this, but still. Maeve's smile falters as she pokes at her food, dropping her gaze to swallow against the anxiety bubbling up in her throat, "Only if you want to... I know you have a home and everything, but mine is open to you too."

She should just come out and say it. Just ask him to come with her, but now the fear of rejection swirls in her belly, tangling up the nerves that had only just started to come undone all over again, killing her appetite completely. The moment passes, their focus shifting to the fire and her talk with Sunjata. Her worries for the governor.

Locke doesn't snap. His tone isn't even harsh, but the words cut at her all the same. Maeve tightens her grip on her fork, pressing her lips into a thin line, drawing in a shaky breath in an attempt to push away the hurt. It doesn't matter that he doesn't say it. She picks it up all the same, thoroughly silencing the thought to argue back at first, but the words come anyway. "Time, help, support... Yeah, he needs all of it." Maeve mutters, unable to find it in her to raise her voice, but then he's saying that Hotaru wouldn't care if her girls were in there or not and her eyes snap up to his. Her jaw feathers, brows drawing together and creating a wrinkle, bristling at the implication. "Because she wouldn't actually hurt innocent people. If this was meant to be about Nate and Sunjata then why would she harm anyone else? Even still, it wasn't here. There was no way. It happened at the same time." And he knows this. She knows he does. Why are they even having a conversation about it in the first place? Why the fuck does it matter?

Maeve huffs out a breath, trying so desperately to reign in her irritation, to get control of the swirl of emotions that's threatening to undo that careful control she's holding onto. Why is he being like this? It makes no sense. "Yeah... They're conducting a trial. Suppose you detain who you think is guilty." Truly she has no clue. There aren't typically trials in Torchline. People get away with a lot worse in comparison, but Sunjata and Nate think it necessary either way. Who is she to question it?

Her fork lands against the edge of the plate with a soft clink, hands going into her lap as she dares to look up at him, meeting his gaze and catching a twitch of his lips that's meant to be a smile. She swallows thickly, unease thick between them, "I don't think there was every any getting away from it... All we can do is try, right? We can keep each other safe and just..." She trails off, words dying on her tongue as she looks at him, dread a cold weight in her chest. "Just try to make it through.."

Babe, there's something wretched about this
Something so precious about this
Oh what a sin

LOCKE

Her apartment. His home. His brain repeats it over and over as he looks at her. Locke doesn't even notice his jaw clenching so hard it hurts. Why would he? It feels like everything he's been working towards has been for nothing. What happened to their home? His leg is bouncing under the table and he can't stop himself as he leans forward. He finally manages to look away, picking at his food but not looking back up.

She keeps talking but her words fall on deaf ears. He doesn't want to talk about Sunjata or the war anymore. He's got his own shit to deal with but it's clear she doesn't care about that. She's got the Halenani now and her god and why would she need him? One hand slips under the table to press against the cool glass in his pocket. Another moment and he pulls it back out, sliding it across the table.

He feels something between being out of body and maybe slightly out of mind. Like his thoughts aren't his own and the words he's going to say belong to someone else. "Give it to someone else, Mae." He doesn't deserve this or her. Except didn't he tell her this isn't how any of this works. "There's other people who need you more than I do."

I wanna make up my mind
But I don't know myself

Maeve

He doesn't respond to anything. He barely moves. Barely even breathes. She's left waiting, searching his gaze for anything, but it's blank like he's not even there anymore. Maeve's eyes drop to the table, the sound of the pendant against wood loud in the quiet of the little apartment, threatening to deafen her. His words are even louder despite how evenly he says them. They crash into her, cracking the precariously built dam that's meant to hold her emotions at bay, releasing them in a flood that causes her to inhale sharply.

Hurt contorts her features, pooling tears in seaglass eyes that reflect her confusion, trying so desperately to understand what has just happened. "What do you mean?" Who else could need her more? Didn't he say she was his everything? That he'd burn all of Caido for her? That he loved her? How could he not need her when they idea of not having him makes her feel like she can barely breathe. Her voice trembles traitorously, giving away the slipping hold she has on everything as shaky fingers extend to pick up the pendant, gripping it so hard it might shatter had it not been blessed by Safrin herself.

Babe, there's something wretched about this
Something so precious about this
Oh what a sin

LOCKE

For all the neutrality of his expression, inside he's screaming. He's not sure if he's hurt or angry or both or neither. Maybe scared? He's not about to sit down and untangle these emotions. He doesn't like them so he's just going to ignore them. Except every action he takes is laced with them. "You said it yourself. Sunjata needs someone's help. I'm sure Hotaru does too. Seren. Give it to one of them." Anyone but him.

He stands up, too quickly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. She can't leave him if he leaves first, right? Can't reject him if he rejects her first. He drums his fingers on the table for a second, the only real proof he's got something else going on in his head before he steps away. "Look, I think.. You should go. I don't think this is working out." He does love her. So much. Too much. But he knows if she doesn't leave now, he's going to beg her to stay. And if she stays, he'll only hurt her worse. She can do so much better than him and she deserves so much better than him. If that means he has to be the bad guy, then so be it. He'll be the bad guy.

I wanna make up my mind
But I don't know myself

Maeve

He doesn't yell. He doesn't scream. There's nothing but a cold finality to his voice. A lack of light in his eyes. He stares at her, letting the words fall so easily from his lips and she doesn't know how to take them, doesn't know what to do. An argument starts to form, words trying to push past her lips, feelings needing to make themselves known. Before she can manage to pull them together into a coherent thought he's standing, towering over her and making her feel so fucking small, so insignificant beneath the scrutiny of his gaze.

The pain catches her off guard. The sharp feeling that lances through her as it sinks in. I don't think this is working out. Maeve sucks in a sharp breath, tears slipping down her cheeks hotly as she chokes back a sound that might be a sob, shaking her head as she stands. "Locke... Please. Just- just tell me what's wrong. What can I do?" The words tumble out in a rush as she tries to slip around the table towards him, reaching for him as if just touching him will break whatever this is.

Babe, there's something wretched about this
Something so precious about this
Oh what a sin

LOCKE

He's what's wrong. Can't she see that? He wants too much, takes too much. Her heart is too big but he wants all of it. She said he could have it but is that fair to her? She's so young. He keeps the table between them, his heart racing in his chest. He wishes he could shift, could run from her but he can't. She'd just be waiting for him when he came back. Maybe. Maybe she would leave if he ran. That'd be for the best.

"I told you, leave. Go run your brothel." It's more important than he is. She doesn't have to make the choice, he's already done it for her. He's not even sure he can articulate what's wrong. It's too many things at once. Does one name every single blade of straw? He's not sure he can. Part of it is insecurity, another jealousy, another fear, another regret. "I'll be fine." Except that he won't. She doesn't need to see that though.

I wanna make up my mind
But I don't know myself

Maeve

It's a slap to the face. She falters, going still as she looks over at him, trying so hard to read him and failing. Her Locke isn't here anymore. Any part of him is buried deep down, shut away so he can do this, it's the only thing that makes sense. Maeve doesn't let herself break more than she already has, refusing to crumble under his hard gaze despite the way her knees feel weak, lungs unable to work properly. Her heart beats in her chest, but she's not even sure she feels it beyond the way it cracks and splinters.

She wants to say more. To ask him if it's about the Halenani or Sunjata or any number of things, but she can't trust herself to speak. If she speaks she's going to fall apart. So poorly held together as she is already, it would be her downfall. Maeve reaches up to wipe roughly at her eyes even as the tears keep coming, "If that's what you want..." It's so unlike her to just lay down and take it. To not fight back. To not claw and scratch and cling. She can't bring herself to this time.

It would hurt too much to be shut out again. To be pushed aside again. To not be enough. The hole in her chest grows larger, raw and bleeding at the edges as she turns towards the door, lingering there at war with herself. Maeve looks back at him, silent beyond the occasional sniffle, "You can get rid of my things or I'll send someone to get them... Clearly I've overstayed my welcome already." It's a low blow and she's not even sure it hurts him. How could it? She's the one falling apart as he just stands there, unmoving and uncaring, cutting ties as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Maybe for him it is. Maeve doesn't stay to find out.

~FIN

Babe, there's something wretched about this
Something so precious about this
Oh what a sin