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]

"She is. She really is."

He already feels like shit, talking about his wife when he can still taste Susan on his lips, can still feel her arms around his shoulders even when there's plenty of space between them now. But it's a punch in this gut to hear Susan say that still, and he looks off to the side to hide the hurt in his eyes, squeezing them shut for a long moment.

"The former, yeah. The latter I doubt very much." Considering what a complete piece of shit he's being right now.

[girl_at_the_window]

"Quit that." Her voice is sharper than she means it to be. She just feels so ungodly tired - tired of pain, tired of heartache, tired of everything that's come since she woke up. "It is what it is. Ain't your fault or mine how we feel, just what we do."

It would be so nice, she thinks wistfully, if she could believe that. If she didn't feel like every inch the whore they used to call her, pining like this after a married man. Making him pine. Shit.

She picks up her mug again, stares down at the dregs, and groans quietly. "I need more coffee."

[thefuckingbeam]

[Eddie's jaw tightens, but he just nods. Susan has a point, after all. It's neither of their faults, but it is their problem. When she brings up the coffee, he springs to his feet almost comically fast.]

I'll make it. You rest.

[He takes both their cups into the kitchen and sets about making more, but not before taking a moment to press his face against one of Susan's cupboard doors and squeeze his eyes shut. Trying to ground himself, or something like it.]

[girl_at_the_window]

[The kitchen's not so far removed from the main room - it's a pretty open-plan house - but Susan still breathes a little easier when he's not right there, right near her, bringing everything up.]

[She sighs, rubbing her forehead. Da, what the hell do I do?]

[Her da is dead, and doesn't answer. Not even his memory does. She feels lost, cast adrift. When Eddie comes back, she looks up, her smile thin and tight.]

Thankee.

[thefuckingbeam]

[Eddie pulls himself together and crosses back over into the main room, setting down Susan's coffee and nodding.]

No sweat. Figured we could both use it.

[The coffee is hot enough that it scalds his tongue and the roof of his mouth, but maybe that's for the better. It's a good distraction from his inner turmoil, anyway. He pulls his knees up and plants his feet on the edge of the sofa, making himself take up a little less space. Less threatening, or something, not that he's thinking about it consciously.]

I really can leave, if you want. Take mine to go.

[Remove himself as the source of temptation, he means.]

[girl_at_the_window]

[She takes a deep, deep breath and shakes her head. When she wraps her hands around the mug, it starts burning almost at once, and she's grateful of it. Gives her something to focus on for a moment.]

No. I meant it. I can't...

...I don't want to be alone. Not right now.

[She wets her lips and sips her coffee, closing her eyes for a moment before she sets the cup back down. Her palms are red from the heat.]

Say sorry. This ain't fair.

[thefuckingbeam]

[Eddie hugs his coffee between his webbed fingers and laughs, a hollow sound.][Nothing's fair, ever. It's not fair of him to leave her, it's not fair of her to ask him to stay. It's not fair of him that despite all his guilt and the overwhelmingly depressing reality of this situation, Eddie still wants to pull Susan back into his arms and touch her hair and kiss her so soundly she forgets they're not supposed to be doing it at all.

He frees one hand and pounds his fist into the upholstery of Susan's couch.]

God damn it. Do you know how bad I want to just say 'fuck it' right now?

[girl_at_the_window]

'Bout as bad as I do?

[Her smile's thin and wavery, because while she said it in a joking tone, that really wasn't a joke. She still aches and feels stiff, but hells, on half a minute's notice she'd still tackle him if she let herself.]

[She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes.]

...Mayhap you're right. Mayhap you should go. Before one of us gives in.

[thefuckingbeam]

Probably.

[This is very steadily ticking over into danger territory, and they can both feel it now, and when Susan closes her eyes like that Eddie just lets himself drink her in, take in the details of her face before the words he'd been expecting finally come.]

Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right.

[He gives her a sympathetic glance, rising to his feet.]

Just...you're gonna be okay, right? Until Chie comes?

[girl_at_the_window]

I'll have to be.

[She forces a smile, getting to her feet as well. She ought to at least say goodbye properly, even if she probably shouldn't give him the hug she's about to.]

Thankee. For comin' by.

[thefuckingbeam]

[Hugging him is definitely a terrible idea, and they both know it, but he accepts it anywhere, giving her a brief squeeze with his hand on her hair.

Enough. Enough, now.]

Anytime, sweetheart.

[He pauses, cringes. Pulls back.] --Susan.

[girl_at_the_window]

[She doesn't know how to say that it's her name that makes her heart flip-flop in her chest, more than the endearment does. She can feel her resolve straining, straining to breaking point...]

[She all but pushes him towards the door.]

We... we'll talk about it in a few days, aye? [When we've had time to get our heads in order.]

[thefuckingbeam]

[He stumbles over his webbed toes a little, and nods, pushing his hair out of his face.]

Yeah. In a few days.

[He's just going to. Probably jerk off and cry. It's fine.]