are you looking for an answer - {for Jo}

[girl_at_the_window]

Susan wakes up into dull, numb agony, every movement aching. It turns out coming back from the dead is never what you'd call relaxing. Everything feels broken, oddly displaced.

It takes her several minutes to gather the strength to sit up, reach for her computer, and, after a little thought, start to type.

>burningpassion: well
>burningpassion: im back

Comments

[thefuckingbeam]

He's been worried sick about her, all this time she's lain dead. Eddie tries to tell himself that it'll be fine, that people die and come back all the time here. That her body is still here, and that means she's not going to disappear into the ether. Still, he's filled with a ridiculous amount of relief when he sees Susan's name pop up on the network again, enough that it actually makes him feel a little guilty.

>deadbabyjoke: holy shit
>deadbabyjoke: are you ok? im coming over

That isn't a question. He's not just going to sit here twiddling his thumbs when he knows she's alive and well.

[girl_at_the_window]

>burningpassion: you dont have to

But, if she's honest, she knows he will and she's glad of it. Chie seems to be out, and Eddie is, frankly, exactly who she wants to see right now. He can be an ass sometimes, but she trusts their friendship more than most. To start with that was just about him knowing Roland, knowing her world - but that was a long time ago. Now, she just cares about him.

By the time he makes it to the ranch, Susan's managed to get dressed, and (with some difficulty) to stumble downstairs. The door's unlocked, and she's sitting by the fireplace, brushing her hair out with hands that are shaking quite a lot more than they should be.

[thefuckingbeam]

He ignores her protest. He's about 80% sure it's bullshit anyway, and even if it wasn't he'd ignore her. He sets out immediately for the ranch, barely remembering to even lock the door to he and Jake's apartment.

He doesn't bother to knock, once he gets there; just comes through the door and stands there staring for a second. His hair is a damn mess because he'd been laying on his couch dozing and he hasn't bothered fixing it, he just went.

"Holy shit, you're really back." He finally comes in and shuts the door, takes a few tentative steps toward her. "You okay?"

[girl_at_the_window]

She smiles up at him, using two of her arms to push herself up out of the chair. Her wings flutter a little as she does so, instinctively helping her catch her balance.

"Aye." Then, with a grimace, "...No. I hurt like hell. But I ain't dead, so that's somethin'."

She walks a few steps towards him, visibly stiff and unsteady, and opens her arms for a hug. "I'm real glad to see you, anyroad."

[thefuckingbeam]

Eddie makes a sympathetic grunt. "I've never died, but I don't s'pose it's a particularly pleasant thing to wake back up from."

He hesitates for only a second when he comes in for a hug, before he lets his gut instinct take over from his brain and gives to to her, sliding his finned arms neatly around her shoulders. And then, just because he's tall and an asshole, he bends backward to pick her up off the ground a few inches. "Not as glad as I am to see you, Jesus, I was...well, I was sick with worry, I gotta admit."

[girl_at_the_window]

That's... touching. It's real touching. Susan smiles, tightening her embrace a little, and using both pairs of arms this time. She's still figuring out the logistics of four-armed hugs.

"What's the worst that could happen? I'm already dead." She knows damn well what he was afraid of, but that doesn't mean she has to acknowledge it. And it's a lot easier to brush off his concern than to acknowledge the warm, fuzzy feeling it gives her. "Thankee, though. It's... it's sweet. That you worried."

[thefuckingbeam]

After a moment that's maybe too long but Eddie's never been great at timing anyway, he sets her back down on her feet. He lets out a humorless laugh. "Sure, sure." He picks up her tact of ignoring the potential of the situation.

Eddie shrugs, stepping back and unwinding his arms from around her shoulders. "Of course I did. I'm not that much of an asshole, y'know." He falls easily into ribbing her, because it's easier than being frank.

[girl_at_the_window]

Susan elbows him lightly, letting out a little huff of a laugh. "Why don't you sit down? I'll put on some coffee. May as well have a drink, now you're here."

And no, she isn't blushing. Not even a little bit. That's just a trick of the light and the exertion of standing up and moving around after over a month of being dead.

[thefuckingbeam]

Eddie shrugs, but he's glad to have at least gotten her to laugh, no matter how small a laugh it is. It means that what she's been through hasn't completely torn her apart. Not that he'd expect that of her; she's resilient, if nothing else. She's gotten through God knows what else, he's got faith she'll get through this—coming back to life—just fine.

He crosses to sit down on her sofa, making himself comfortable, his lanky frame settling in easily. "You got cream for the coffee? If not, I'll take a little sugar."

[girl_at_the_window]

"Will you, now?" Susan says it without really thinking - some slang's around in her world too, after all - and promptly goes red when she realises. "I mean, uh, I got some cream, I think. Somewhere. Uh."

She really, really did not mean to do that. It would be absolutely fine as a joke, if she was entirely sure they were both joking, and if she hadn't caught herself considering giving him some sugar a moment ago. So now she's just going to... turn away as quickly as possible, and put all her attention into finding the bedamned cream.

[thefuckingbeam]

Eddie laughs, and his mouth is halfway to shooting back something saucy when his mind catches up with it, and he promptly shuts it and drops his chin a little. He needs to watch his fucking mouth; it's not appropriate for him to talk with her like he'd talk to Susannah, which was exactly what he'd been about to do. It makes his gut twist heavy with guilt.

He realizes that he's been quiet a little too long, and gives another, more stilted laugh. "—cream's good, too. Anything's better than black coffee with grounds in the bottom."

[girl_at_the_window]

"Ooh, you ain't gonna like my coffee." She laughs low in her throat, trying not to think too hard about what just happened. Her knees are still shaking a little when she straightens up with a cup in one hand and a jug in another, and she looks awfully pale, but she hobbles back over to put them in front of him. "Chie did keep us in cream, I guess. Wasn't too sure of it."

[thefuckingbeam]

Whoops. "I'm sure I'll like your coffee just fine," he assures her. Why is he so concerned with reassuring her that he wasn't trying to insult her coffee? Why is this weird? It shouldn't be weird. He cares for Susan, and for Christ's sake, the girl just came back from the dead. It's only normal for him to want to be nice to her.

"That's good. Good." He watches her wobbling around and feels bad all over again. He should have gotten the damn coffee himself. "Sit down. You shouldn't be waiting on me, you need your rest."

[girl_at_the_window]

She can't leave it there. She wants to, but she can't. Some things won't stay buried.

She's dreamt of him. Twice, now. The first time, she woke up and went downstairs to splash her face with cold water, started her chores right then and there, hours before the sun came up. The second time, she was less self-controlled: took care of what mattered most at the time, and fell back asleep with her nightgown still rucked up to the waist and her hand between her legs.

It isn't something she wants to be doing, but as it had with Roland, it feels inevitable. Impossible. She knows they have to resolve this, clear the air somehow, or she risks losing one of her dearest friends here.

Eventually, a week or so after that fateful kiss, she sends Eddie a private message over the network:we should talk. pandemonium on friday? That feels safe - public enough to hopefully quash the worst of the temptation, a space where they can just... talk. Talk this through. Lay it to rest.

That Friday, she's at Pandemonium as soon as her shift's over, sitting with a mocha untouched in front of her, her fingers tapping a nervous tattoo on the tabletop.

[thefuckingbeam]

She isn't the only one. Not by a long shot. Eddie's been taking a lot of cold showers—or rather, cold dunks in Lake Dala—and a lot of throwing himself into everything possible in order to avoid thinking about things too much. But the fact remains that he does think about it. Thinks about Susan. And he knows it's not going to stop, not until they come to some sort of resolution. So he agrees to meet her—and yes, a public place is definitely best—and shows up looking underslept. Not that that's really all that unusual. That's sort of just what he looks like.

He doesn't bother ordering coffee, because he knows it's probably going to sit untouched just like hers is, and instead gets a bottle of water before coming to sit down across from her.

"You're gonna wear a thin spot in the table doing that," he jokes by way of breaking the ice. It's not easy to look at her, honestly, and not have flashbacks to the kiss they shared.

[girl_at_the_window]

It isn't easy for her, either, which is why she's a little pink when she looks up at him, her antennae flicking nervously. She manages a smile, and forces her hand to still, at least for a moment, folding another hand over it.

"Jade'd kill me if I did," she replies, and then lapses into silence for a moment. Even though she's the one who arranged this, now she's actually here, it's impossible to think what to say. Eventually, self-conscious of her own banality, she offers hesitantly, "You been keepin' alright?"

This is difficult.

[thefuckingbeam]

"Heh. Probably. You could blame it on me," he offers. It wouldn't be a lie, technically. He lets the silence sit for a minute, content to let this progress at her pace. She's the one who asked him here, after all.

The question has Eddie glancing up, and from underneath the flop of his hair, he considers lying for a moment. Saying he's been just fine, no problems here, no sir. But he doesn't want to lie to her. The very least he owes her is honesty. So he shrugs.

"I've been worse. Keepin' busy, mainly.

...You?"

[girl_at_the_window]

She scrutinises him for a moment - one that's a little too long to be entirely comfortable, because she was trying to focus on what he's saying, not on how there's something charmingly boyish about the way his hair falls in his eyes like that. Clearing her throat, she purses her lips and finally sips her lukewarm coffee.

"...The same," she says, into the cup. She's pretty sure it's true on more levels than the obvious. "Workin' hard, catchin' up on what I missed." Setting the cup down again, her hands wrapping around it as if it still actually has heat left to offer, she gives him a thin little smile. "Tryin' to think without thinkin'. You kennit?"

[thefuckingbeam]

"...Yeah. I kennit." Eddie huffs out a laugh with not much humor behind it, and takes a swig out of his water bottle. "Glad you're getting caught up, though." He crinkles the plastic bottle between his hands, watching the water slosh around inside it for a second. Eventually, he sighs.

"I'm sorry. I should never've put you into this position. I should've had more...I don't know. Self-control."

[girl_at_the_window]

"Quit that." She manages to sound almost scornful, kicking him under the table. "It ain't on you any more than me. Don't give yourself too much credit. We both fucked up." And she doesn't appreciate being made to feel like some innocent bystander in all this. She's willing to accept culpability, and she'd much rather he let her.

She sighs, leaning back in her seat. "We both should've had more self-control. And we both should've thought more and done less. But we didn't, so what now?" Chewing at her lip, she looks at him from under her eyelashes. "Guess you know I still want you, just like I'm guessin' you still want me. So what do we do from here?"

[thefuckingbeam]

Eddie lets out a short yelp and yanks his leg back. "Fine, fine, we both fucked up." He can own up to that much, at least. He did try giving her an out, after all, before she'd kissed him.

He breathes out heavily through his nose, settling back, too, and eyes her. "I don't know. I dunno what." He sighs. "Yeah, I figured as much. We're both just about in the same place we were a week ago. So I guess we just gotta own up to it and say...which way are both of us gonna be more miserable?"

[girl_at_the_window]

She's quiet for a long moment, her hands winding together so tightly that the claws press into the skin, not quite hard enough to draw blood, but close.

"...We could wait forever," she says at last, to the table. "We could wait forever and never see them again. Or they could come here tomorrow. I hate not knowin'!" One of her free hands balls into a fist, slamming into her leg, and her shoulders heave for a moment, antennae flicking in agitation.

With an effort, she steadies herself and takes a deep breath.

"What would you say to her? If she was sittin' here, 'stead of me? What'd she say to you?"

[thefuckingbeam]

He watches her with a miserable look on his face, wishing there was a simpler way to fix this. Wishing he could find a door that would take him back a week and stop him from doing what he did. But even still...he knows that wouldn't fix it. The feelings would still be there, bubbling under the surface, threatening to boil over.

"I know. I know. It's fucked up. It's enough to drive you up the wall."

God knows he's felt like that, lately. Like he's losing it.

Her question hurts, even though it wasn't supposed to, because it's always going to hurt, hearing Susan talk about Susannah.

"If she was sittin' here...shit. I'd tell her I'll never stop loving her. 'Cause it's true, I won't. But I've also got a chance at maybe having a damn sun ray of happiness in this shithole, and I think it's only fair I try to take it."

Eddie shakes his head.

"And she...she'd probably tell me to pull my head out of my ass. I like to think she'd tell me it's okay, that I should follow my heart or some shit...but she's too hard to predict. It's one of the best and most frustrating things about her, you know?"

[girl_at_the_window]

"I know," she agrees, with a little half-smile. "Remember who I loved?" Roland might be stolid, but in her experience, he wasn't at all easy to predict. She can definitely understand both the appeal and the frustration of it, all too well.

She's quiet for a moment. Then, abruptly, she decides. Pushing her mocha to one side, she stands up, clearing her throat, her wings fluttering slightly.

"I'm going outside," she says, and takes a deep breath. "You think about what she'd say. And I'll wait a while. If you want..." She clears her throat again, going just a little pink. "If you want me, come find me. Alright?"

[thefuckingbeam]

Eddie watches her for a moment, and then snorts. God, she's right, isn't she? Roland's quite the same way in that respect. "Yeah, you got a point."

He takes another sip of his water, mostly to fill in the gap where she's quiet, but his eyes go a little wide when she stands up, rather abruptly. And what she's saying to him...it makes them go even wider. Is she...?

His heart leaps into his throat, and he has to swallow thickly in order to say anything at all. "Yeah. Yeah, sure." Casual. Very casual.

And now he has to think. Because he's treading dangerous waters, here, and there's a very large margin of error, because it's just like Susan said—they could show up tomorrow, or they could never show up at all. It's a crapshoot. But Eddie Dean has never been great at taking the safer route, anyway, so it's not long at all before he's standing up too, wandering outside and looking left and right for her. For a moment, he's dismayed, concerned she'd just left anyway without waiting for him, but then he pokes his head around the corner of the side alley and sees wings and antennae and blonde hair, and breathes a little easier.

"Hey. So, I did some thinking." His hands are shoved in his pockets, because otherwise he'll fidget.