rogueinladysclothing | [Duplicity] IC Inbox

"Don't lie to me," he murmurs low, sympathy but moreso disappointment clear in not only his voice but how he holds himself. Does she not think he knows her well enough by now? Or is she so shaken that she can't believe it?

"Don't lie to yourself. You're far away this time, Love. Come back to me. I'm here, I'll hold you together. It's alright to feel it." She's rigid, tense, so he doesn't embrace her as he wants to. He'll give her that space, but he does hold her hands to his chest, precious and close to his heart. He sighs softly, resolving not to be hurt because he knows this isn't about him. This is about Alois and Amelia, about the city, and about the lack of control or stability. But all they can do is be here for each other.

"'How can you know where you're supposed to be if you don't take the journey?'"

Edited (Typos :c) 2023-06-05 01:12 (UTC)

It's not supposed to be this way. He's not supposed to come here knowing, knowing her so well that he... that he can just... do this. She's stronger than this. She can wait out whatever time it takes for the last bit of her Family to return to her. He shouldn't be worrying over her when it's another of her partners. It shouldn't effect him. She should be better than this. She can be.

Her lip trembles as she looks up at him, tears threatening her vision as she tries to keep denying this. "I..." am stronger than this. "I'll be..." fine, until he comes back. "Y-you... shouldn't have--"

No. None of that. It's not fair when Wolfe chose to be here. He wouldn't be here if it wasn't important to him.

She curls in on herself, forehead pressed to his collarbone as she tries so hard not to cry. If she starts, she doesn't know if she'll stop. How can she when he's just-- when they didn't even say he was-- and then suddenly there was nothing where he had been.

"I can't do this y-yet," she whispers, voice thick with tears she's still trying to hold back. "If I just... If I wait, he'll come home, b-back to me." Not to the House where he's actually needed, where the Family is waiting for a leader that isn't so hotheaded he can't let go of his own needs for the sake of the many when it counts. Not to where he should be, but here, where they can still be in love.

Her fingers try to grip at his shirt, seeking something real to hold onto. "I can't, because it's not true."

"I know," he wraps his arms around her securely, one hand going to the back of her head to cradle as he envelops her against him. She can't do this right now but right now is all she has. All any of them have.

He knows this feeling far too well. Grief is an old companion for those who lose those around them one by one by one. Who knows what's missing too heavily. "I believe you can, though I wish you didn't have to. I don't want this for you, but I'm here to listen and to help carry the weight of it."

Of truth and if grief.

He kisses the top of her head, rubbing her back in gentle circles. "I won't let it bury you."

He can't stop it. He can't promise something like this and make it be true, much the same as she can't make Aloïs come back to her. But maybe if he's here, maybe if he's not suffering from watching her, it won't so bad he can't pull her out when she does drown in it.

Maybe is all she has, and it may not be enough, but they don't get a choice, do they? Not here. Not ever.

She slips her arms around him as she tries to hold out a little longer, any attempt at words lost to the chattering of her teeth and the fabric of his shirt. She wants to tell him again that she'll be fine and mean it, but she can't. She... can't.

Her chest tightens as the sobs start; quiet at first as she continues to fight it, louder until she's all but screaming in anguish when she simply gives in. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to lose anyone, not like this. If they were going to go home, they were going to do it together. Not be ripped apart like this. Yet here she stands, crying and gripping at another of her loves as she mourns the loss of the first she didn't even know she had before coming here. It's not fair to Wolfe, and she wishes she was strong enough to send him away, but she's not. Dreams, she's not strong. Not anymore.

Her legs start to give out long before her tears have any chance of stopping, physical strength failing her as the hurt settles in further. Someone might as well have taken a knife to her chest several times over for how hard it becomes to breathe. This isn't the end of everything, but it's the end of who she was. The last thing that made her a leader, a member of the Family, is gone, taking love and strength with him.

This city takes so much more than it ever gives, and she's never felt is so sharply, so clearly as she does now.

Amelia cries.

She weeps and it's all Wolfe can do to hold her quietly and remain a solid mooring. She may not believe him but he knows she's strong enough to get through this. He knows the wail of a breaking heart, knows it as the sound his own heart has made only a handful of times but a handful is far too many.

He sinks to the floor with her when the strength in her legs leaves her, carefully lowering them both to the cool tile of the foyer. He arranges himself so Amelia can lean into him however long she needs to but he can stay upright for having the wall's support at his back.

"I've got you," he murmurs soft and low, more sound than words, for as long as it takes. "I've got you, Love."

It's not fair that she's doing this to him. Deep in her mind, she rails against the fact that he deserves better than this from her. Supporting her through the loss of someone else she loved isn't fair to him. But fairness doesn't count for anything right now, and it's not a thing anyone can ever count on. It's the only realization that quiets the part of her mind that screams to pull back.

She's hoarse when she quiets sometime later, no less than an hour after he stepped through the door. Her face and his shirt are a mess, her entire body chill and trembling for how much it hurts and how stressed and tense she still is. She wants to cry more, but her eyes hurt so much that all she can do is close them and breathe through the urge to push more tears out through the pain. It won't help anything right now.

"Love..." Dreams, it hurts so much to speak. She winces, a hand coming to her throat as she curls further into him. "Water. Up... upstairs." Something to drink. A shower. Anything to get her hydrated again. She swallows hard, gritting her teeth against the feeling.

"Please. Just... somewhere else." She wants to be anywhere but the floor right now. Anywhere where he can be close for a while longer.

Edited (fixing some wording) 2023-06-05 06:02 (UTC)

Andraste bless her for telling him what she needs, even in pain. If it were up to him he'd stay there for fear of upsetting the exhausted calm that settles, doze against the wall with her in his arms. Instead he nods and brings her with him as he stands, first to her feet and then with one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees, bringing them upstairs as she asked.

He lays her down on her bed and fetches water quickly, filling the glass from the bathroom sink just to be back with it all the more quickly. He hands it over and then slips in beside her, tucking himself around her protectively so she can curl into him as she likes.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to." As long as she needs him to as well, though he hopes that distinction is unnecessary. "Whatever you need. If you need to talk or scream, yell at the city or simply rest, I'm here through it all. As long as you'll have me."

He's here to support her, regardless.

In any other moment, she'd fight him carrying her like this - she's a grown woman, she has two working legs, and she can crawl if she has to - but right now she knows she's too weak for this. Without his support, she wouldn't be here, literally couldn't be. She'd tumble to the floor and simply remain there until... she doesn't know how long. Hours, days maybe. Longer than she should.

She stays upright long enough to drink the water, then carelessly sets aside the glass to tuck herself beneath his chin and against his chest. Laying down is easier, and it keeps her from having to think about... much of anything. Now that she's unable to cry anymore, all she feels is numbness. Not only in her heart, but in her body as well. It's the strangest thing, to feel nothing where not hours ago there was pain, trepidation, fear, rage, and sensation. It's as if she isn't pressed into Wolfe now, his scent barely registering in her blocked nose and body not registering his heat, his solidness against her.

It takes her wants from her, too.

"Stay." It's all she can think of as fingers that barely work grip at his shirt and swollen red eyes find fresh tears. It should hurt, but it doesn't. It makes her wonder something else.

Slowly, she tilts her head to look up at him, then finds his lips with hers. It's... not what it should be, and the idea of pain is there, but it doesn't register in her body or mind the way it should. Is this it? Is this all there is left to her now? She exhales a breath, her chest tightening as she kisses him again.

"Be with me." She shouldn't, and he shouldn't either, but she needs something, and the only one person she trusts to give it to her now is right in front of her. She just needs something until it all comes back. Until she can feel again. Until this all makes sense again. Until she can find herself again.

Edited (forgot a word) 2023-06-05 23:17 (UTC)

"I am with you, my heart." He lets her kiss him, kisses back the first time but firmly holds her still after the second, tucks her head back under his chin as if to protect her. From the world. From herself.

Pain and loss drive people to desperate things, things they don't want in hindsight, and Maker take him if he's going to be a regret for her or take advantage. He is a protector, a supporter, and he would hardly be either if he went along. "I'll stay the night and I'll be here in the morning. You're not alone, my love."

He doesn't mention that he knows what she thinks she wants. He'll let it go unspoken, pretend that didn't happen, and be the rock she needs.

He kisses her, but retreats, holds back when she wants to be overwhelmed so she can feel again. She doesn't want to linger in this numbness, to let this be about her grief for someone else while he's here. She doesn't want to wallow or cry or scream about this anymore. She wants this moment to be theirs.

"Wolfe... please." Her fingers dig into his shirt, not trying to pull at it but to get him to look at her as she tries to shift to see his face. It's hard when every part of her body protests and the only pain she feels is so deep in her chest it might tear her in two. He hasn't rejected her, but dreams damn her, right now it feels like it. Everything is wrong and backwards and going in directions it shouldn't.

She presses trembling lips to his neck, fighting the tears making their way down her cheeks and failing. "I need you." And she doesn't want to wait for feeling to flood back in to have him when they could be gone for good.

Heart squeezing, Wolfe almost lets her. He knows where this comes from, knows because he'd felt the same when he'd woken back up in the city and found Alaric and Anders gone. A hole in him that's still there but no one else can fill. Nor should they. That space is for them whether they're there to fill it or not, and so it goes with Alois as well.

Keeping the unhappiness from his face but none of the concern, Wolfe carefully tilts her head to look at him, tenderly brushing at the tear tracks from her eyes. "You have me, but not like this. When you're not grieving your loss, dear heart. I'm here for you now so you can mourn. It's alright, I promise I'm not going anywhere."

He kisses her forehead, her cheeks, and holds her tightly. "It hurts, I know. It's alright."

You can't promise me that.

The words are on her trembling lips, but can't force them out. The pain rushes back in, crushing her under its weight as it settles in her chest again: Aloïs is gone, and when Wolfe goes in the morning, she's alone. This house, this life, this... everything, it's hers and hers alone.

It hurts to cry. Her throat aches and her eyes are dry from waves of tears, and still she cries. What else is there to do until sleep takes her? What else can she say when words fail her completely? There's nothing, and that same nothingness forces out another wail as she buries her face in his chest and tries to simply exist for a time. It's all she can do. It's all she will do until she finds the breath for a single word - "Shower." - to get them to do something. Anything. Just to not lay in her bed and think on how empty it will be when he goes in the morning.

Maybe it won't help, but at least it will remove them from a place her heart can't bear to rest in right now.

"Shower," he confirms, getting up to go put it on but leaving the door open so she can still see and hear him. He's not sure in the wisdom of his getting in with her, though he imagines that's what she wants right now. He doesn't want to believe she'd try and coerce him into bed again like that but the state she's in...

He sighs, looking at himself in the mirror for a moment, and still has his clothes on when he comes back out to get her. "Shower's running, my heart. Nice and hot, and I put one of those little jelly things in so it smells nice. Careful not to step on it."

She watches him go, curled up on her side on the bed. There's a detachment to it, as if she's not fully seeing him right now, but she can barely open her eyes as it is. It's as much that she can't see well through red, swollen eyes as it is how lost she feels. At least with him here, she's not staring into nothing.

When he returns to her, she sits up slowly, hands already working to remove all her things. Her pendants and vial of memories first. The calming stone bracelet at her wrist next. Her wooden dagger-shaped hair pin last before she numbly starts reaching for the ties of her bodice. It would be easier to ask for his help with all of it, but he doesn't want her as she is right now, so she... doesn't. She strips herself of what clothes she can while sitting on the bed, then rests a hand on his chest as she slips off the bed to remove the rest. She can... do this, at least.

Her braids come out slowly as they make their way into the bathroom, her waved tresses falling almost to her waist. Has she thought of cutting it since she arrived? Has she ever cared about it? Does she even care now? No... not in the least.

She takes his hand to steady herself as she steps into the shower, immediately sitting on the bench to let herself be soaked. The water is calming, and even though she can't smell the lavender jelly, the oils it releases into the air are nice. It's more than she needs right now, but she knows this is how Wolfe is. If there's something more he can do for someone he loves, he'll do it. She knows, because she's seen it, and she does the same.

For a few minutes, she's silent, eyes closed as she simply exists in the spray of water and with him at her side. It's still too much, but it will always be too much.

"Thank you." She leans her weight into him, head pressed against his shoulder and hair draping over them both. "I'm..." tired. lost. unsteady. "...sorry." For him having to be here. For being the way she is. For asking so much of him. He deserves so much more than to suffer her in this state.

He'd not exactly intended to get in with her, kept his clothes on for that reason, but with her looking so sodden even before touching the water he can't bring himself to leave her. His shirt sticks to him as he leans into her in return, kissing whatever part of her head he can reach against his shoulder. He's glad he can be here for her, finds no awkwardness in her upset over Alois being gone. He's a very large part of her life and a decent man besides, of course she would be upset he was spirited back home without her. He would be the same over her, or Chris, or Morrigan. Flames, he would be the same over Jon, too. Any of his close friends and lovers here. Any of the people who have shaped him in the last year plus.

"You're welcome, Love," he murmurs, getting thoroughly soaked but preferring that state to ever leaving her alone to suffer. If he has his way, she'll never suffer loss again, not like this. Not if he can achieve his goals. "You're always welcome."

Edited 2023-06-12 07:51 (UTC)

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cw: (minor) dissociation

wrap?