singlelogbridge | Inbox: Ximilia

Already there!

〈 she does not look at him. her eyes are on her arm, and the black goo taking solid form there. it hardens into a disk like a shield, which she stabs outward. venom splits the current; the pressure at their back throws them out; they shoot, stumbling, into stiller water.

her hand still tightly grips wei wuxian. miraculously, she did not lose her bag. she huffs. 〉

Cross going "Somewhere Down Crazy River" off the bucket list.

[He lets out a sigh of relief when they're out and doesn't immediately release her. The sudden detour has left him with adrenaline rushing through him, and he lets his eyes take Gwen in just to make sure she's alright. It could have been a lot worse, they hadn't been in any real danger while they'd been in there, but the threat of danger had been real.

Eventually after another couple of minutes, he eases back and lets her go.

And suddenly, he feels exhausted. Worn out in a way he doesn't know how to name. He turns away from her, eyes staring out into the invisible currents that surround them. They've been out here doing this for a few days already and they have more days ahead of them, and he can't do this. Her light hearted jokes and pretending like everything's fine. Like she hadn't left him without an explanation as to why. Like it doesn't hurt to look at her now.

At least at home when he disappointed people, he always knew why.]

Are you going to keep doing that?

What?

〈 venom wraps back around her and out of sight. a few more tentacles sprout from her bell. 〉

[He glances away again.

He isn't the one who does this. He's the one who laughs and pretends right back that everything is fine. If she wants to pretend, why shouldn't he let her?]

Never mind. Which way do you think from here?

No. You have to something to say. You've had something to say.

〈 again and again. he starts; he stops. and she hasn't pushed. as much out of guilt for having upset him as not being thrilled to get into major disagreement number two, electric boogaloo. (she's still avoiding.)

gwen crosses her arms before her. 〉

What are you talking about? Me joking? One, it's how I cope. Two, this would be a very quiet trip otherwise. Which normally I'd be okay with, but this particular silence is very loud.

Then just pretend like I'm not here. Isn't that what you prefer anyway? Me not here. [He smiles as he speaks, and it isn't a cutting vicious thing. There is a time and a place for those smiles in arguments, but not here. Not for Gwen. Instead he only looks sad.]

You are so stupid.

〈 the words trip out before she can think them through. it's true. it's also not very helpful. she scrubs at her face. 〉

If I really don't want you near me, why would I text you? You think I couldn't have made this trip alone? Or if I really needed the backup, texted Itachi? Have you seen him? 〈 she jabs a thumb in the direction they came from. 〉 He's a fucking dragon right now.

I don't know why you texted me. [He just wasn't willing to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it was a momentary lapse of sanity. He doesn't know. It's not like he doesn't think there any connection between them, but Gwen had made it pretty obvious she didn't want it anymore.]

You just left, Gwen. How am I supposed to know anything about what you want?

Because I'm a dumbass! I'm a dumbass who, when shit gets to be too much, I avoid…everyone I love! It doesn't really help. Often makes things worse. But I keep doing it because I'm fucking stupid, I guess!

〈 she did it in taeum. finding excuses to keep out of roommate shenanigans. cutting time together short, pulling disappearing acts. in sedorum, she scarce spoke with anyone outside of wei wuxian. even him, more than once, she tried to push to leave. it was her reaction again in e-23b when they fought. and again and again when little things piled up: messages left on read, times she had to be found wherever she had holed herself.

again and again. like back in new york. even knowing, she cannot stop herself repeating the same mistakes.

she looks away, swallowing tightly. 〉

I shouldn't have left like I did. I'm sorry.

[The 'sorry' has barely left her lips when she'll find herself pulled into his arms again, this time into a proper embrace. He's still confused and hurt, but it's the first time he's understood without a doubt that she doesn't hate him. That whatever happened between them, she didn't plan to leave him for good.

He leans his chin on her shoulder and trembles with it, forcing himself not to cry.]

I thought. [He starts and stops, taking a moment to get control of himself.] I thought you were angry with me. I didn't know why. I still...

[He still doesn't know why. If she'd walked away on that roof back on e23-b, at least he'd have known. But they'd been affectionate moments before and then she'd just left. He'd gone over it a hundred times and he still couldn't understand. He'd expected her to come back, and she didn't.

She just never came back.]

〈 she expected to have it out a while longer. maybe some mutual yelling. a fight. she was ready for a fight. instead, it is over before it even starts, though their issues crop between them like weeds.

he thought she was angry. she was. not at him. (a little bit at him.) at everything and nothing. a little bit at him, a lot at the world, much at herself too. eventually, they will have to get into the why's and how's—not a conversation she is looking forward to.

her heart, tucked somewhere within the strangely immaterial ruffles that comprise her new body, beats quickly. her arms wind around his neck. her bell flattens, but it's not uncomfortable. even if it did, it would be a small price to pay. she can feel the trembling of his body and feels worse. she holds him closer. he is warmer than the water, warmer than she is. her heart beats to aching. 〉

[He doesn't cry, and he holds her close for a while longer before finally drawing back. Perhaps if they weren't underwater, his eyes might be a little too bright, but like this there's no way to tell.]

I understand. The urge to run instead of talk. [He doesn't run like that. He dodges and weaves with humor and anger, making everything into a joke, and resorting to angry barbs when laughter isn't enough. He doesn't physically run, but he understands.]

When you need space, I'll give you space. Just tell me and I'll get out of your hair. You don't have to disappear.

〈 c'mon—you're our sister. what did you think you were gonna do? 〉

You should meet Glory. You can commiserate, 〈 gwen jokes weakly.

she put her friends through some shit and they welcomed her back immediately. that's about where the parallels end, however. she kept her distance from the mary janes so they would be safe. she did not run from wei wuxian to protect him.

her current life choices alone say plenty.

she hunches her shoulders. outside the mask—both literal and symbolic—gwen likes to make herself small. 〉

I'd like to say I won't do it again, but— 〈 she drags out the sound ruefully— 〉 kinda doing it right now.

[His brow furrows and he turns around as if looking back the way they came, though it's really hard to say if he has the direction right. She doesn't mean she's running from him anymore, he's pretty sure, so then who?]

Who else? [His voice is gentle when he asks, and he slips his hand into hers, squeezing it in support.]

〈 who else, he makes sure to specify, and she does not know whether to laugh or punch him. she settles for not putting distance between them. her eyes are on their hands when she answers. 〉

Dr. McCoy is dying. 〈 she hunches further into herself. 〉 Has been for a while.

[Setting aside the immediate horror at having punched the man just a few days ago aside—he tightens his grip on Gwen's hand, tangling their fingers together and tugging her into a side hug.]

I'm sorry. I had no idea. [He closes his eyes and shakes his head. He knows how close Dr. McCoy and Gwen are.] Is he ill?

Yeah. I knew he was sick before. The extent was new information.

〈 he is doing better—for a given definition of the word. the symptoms have eased with the cooler temperatures in which they are submerged. he no longer looks like he got socked in the face from fever, at least. "better" does not mean "recovered", though. much less "cured".

and here she is, a quarter of the ocean away. that's nursing crossed off the possible careers list. 〉

[He sighs silently and tugs her into a proper hug.]

When we get back, you don't have to see him if you don't want to, or if you want me to come with you, I will. [If he's dying, he doesn't have to tell Gwen she might regret the time away from him later. If she didn't already know that, she wouldn't be feeling the way she so obviously is. It would be a cruel thing to say.]

And if there's anything I can do, you just have to say the word and I'll do it. Whatever you need.

You think I haven't been texting him this entire time?

〈 she needed to get away, do something, but she has kept the connection wide open. sends him photos and video. texts him stupid jokes as they occur to her. she has dug her nails in and refuses to let go. tragedy is that she can still feel time slipping from her like so much sand. like water.

pulling away, she fiddles with her bag. 〉

He's actually the one who reminded me "avoidance" is the thing the trauma gremlin in my brain wants me to do, so I should do not that. I don't think he expected me to swing in the opposite direction and drag you on a "just us" week-long trip…

〈 gwen's teeth worry her inner lip. she does not look at wei wuxian. 〉

I didn't want to do this on my own.

[Honestly? He wasn't sure if she would have kept in contact. But that answer isn't helpful so he keeps it to himself. At least she hadn't shut McCoy out the way she'd shut him out.

As for the rest, well. He doesn't want to think about it too hard. Gwen isn't the only one who avoids her problems, they just have different methods.]

This trip? Is that why you texted me?

No. Not only. Ugh.

〈 she throws her hands up helplessly. 〉 Look, we’re getting sidetracked. That little jaunt probably cost us, and I doubt it’ll be the last. We need to keep moving.

〈 running again, are we, a voice not unlike spider-ham’s opines. gwen almost tells it to shut up, before realizing she would be starting an argument with her own brain. she wants a fight and doesn't. she wants to clear the air and wants to change the subject. she is—has been—caught fast in a mire of her emotions and trying to ignore it as if that will stop her sinking. venom magnifies her confusion back at her. 〉

Edited 2022-08-21 14:26 (UTC)

Gwen. [He catches her hand before she can swim off, holding it lightly enough she can easily pull away if it's what she wants. He says nothing else for now, only giving her a searching look. After everything they just talked about, he knows what she's trying to do.

And if that's really what she wants, he won't stop her. It just seemed for a minute there like it wasn't.]

What?

〈 the word comes out sharper than intended, and she grimaces. 〉

[Sharpness he can take. His fingers curl around her palm and he holds her gaze.]

It's probably hypocritical coming from me, but. You don't have to keep running. Not from me.

Edited 2022-08-23 00:05 (UTC)

I am not running from you!

〈 if her exclamation before was sharper, this proves louder than it should have. she drops her head; her fingers close around his. the pressure is just shy of painful. black tendrils circle her neck, pull free from her collarbones.

with a strength she did not know she had, gwen forces the rising panicky, stressed, angry, everything feelings down enough to raise her head. she tries to look at him, and immediately turns her face away. it's too much. the pressure in her chest is growing. she wants to scream. break something. run away.

she settles on the truth, and it feels like shards of glass. 〉

I'm not trying to get away from you. I'm trying to get away from me.

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