lucetilogs | Out with the old....

Entry tags:

Out with the old....

Who: Everyone
What: New Year's.
When: Dec. 31st, New Year's Eve, to Jan 1st, New Year's Day.
Where: Everywhere
Summary: It's New Year's, and the people of Luceti have a lot to reflect upon, and to look forward to. And on a more meta level, new journal names.
Rating: We'll see...

New Year's brings images of crowds, and songs, and fireworks; staying up til midnight and watching balls or bells being rung. But Luceti is a different time and place. Whether you're partying with friends or watching the sunrise, what are you doing today?

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They do, don't they? I'm so glad she's made some friends around her age, too.

[On top of all her adoring fans, of course.]

We really should follow up with Sophie's caretakers. I understand that she's about two.

[He nods.] That's awfully young to be stuck here, isn't it? As she grows up she might not even have memories of being anywhere else.

She's fortunate. I've heard that when the parents go home, children born here disappear.

[It's something he hasn't heard, either--but it hits home. His hand freezes over the pictures--disappear--he doesn't want to think about what that means. But he can't help it.]

...That's terrible.

[She nods, one arm wrapping around her waist in a reassuring gesture.]

[...He knew that wanting their family to grow would be something he could never have ever since he came here. That was just a fact--he didn't have a life to return to, and he was lucky enough to have the two of them. But there was still a selfish part of him that wanted it. He can't help it--having a family was always his goal. Learning this--children disappearing--makes this desire sink cold into his stomach.

Children that didn't have a home to go to...

Still he's smiling. Like nothing's changed. He moves swiftly back to the topic of pictures--that was easy. Always easy.]

I got some at the Christmas party, of course.

[He wasn't the only one who had the thought turn them cold, whose dream had always been to make a family. Her father had died, her brother had died, and her mother had rejected her for choosing Maes. Gracia had poured her heart and soul into their family, into the hope of building something new, something solid and lasting... with him. He'd wanted children - and she'd wanted them too. A whole houseful, as loud and boisterous as he was, as caring and smart and creative and kind...

But even in this strange half-life they were living, she couldn't yet bring herself to be intimate with him, let alone...

The risk was too great. She knew that.

But still her heart aches.]

Oh?

[Bear it and keep smiling. Just like he always did. He had so much to be happy about here. It didn't do to dwell on could-have-been's and maybe's.

And yet.]

Of course! [Pictures full of smiling people--look, there's Archie Kennedy, Grune, and even the turtle, Leonardo!] We met some pretty extraordinary people there.

[She can't bear a false face from him. It's hypocritical and - ungenerous - and wrong, considering all the strained smiles she's been giving him, but she hates it, she hates it, and abruptly she'd rather that they just held each other and wept than this.

She moves over to him and puts her hand on his shoulder, saying nothing but looking at him with concern.]

[The smile fades at her touch--yes, he thought she'd see through that. She always had a good way of seeing when he hurt, much as he tried to keep it from bringing her down.

But--he doesn't want to burden her. Not after she's been through so much. So much that he put her through. He'd given her too many burdens already, and she deserves better. All the happiness the world could possibly give her. Even here, he'd promised himself to do anything to make her happy. It didn't seem fair to do this to her. This was supposed to be a night shared in celebration. Of new chances, of new opportunities.

...And yet.]

Gracia...

[His hand crosses to rest on hers as he meets her eyes. He was so lucky. He shouldn't feel this way.]

[That's the problem, isn't it. She's been so concerned with not hurting him with her pain, with protecting herself... she's been keeping all of her burdens to herself. And he has been doing the same. But they were always strongest, they were always best, they fit... when they shared their burdens. That's what love was supposed to do, after all.

She's not sure her heart has the strength for it, to crack open and expose the red bleeding bits for him. But she knows she doesn't want this... politeness. Not from him.

But there was safety in distance. Could she bare to lose him again?

...did she even have him if she kept him out of her heart like this?

She freezes, torn between her intentions like a deer in the headlights.

But she doesn't look away from him, doesn't move, barely breathes.]

[Her touch is an anchor. It's keeping him here, considering. He wants to keep her from sadness so badly. But he's already failed at doing that. And this...he needs her to know this. Needs her to know his pain, everything he's so sorry for and wishes he could fix but just can't.

Because that's how he'll get through it. He knows this. That's how they'll get through it.

Together.]

--I'm--[The words catch in his throat as he pulls her hand against his lips and squeezes his eyes shut. He wishes he hadn't caved first. But the raw ache is there and open and there is no going back.

When he speaks, he speaks against her fingertips and needle prick tears swell in his voice.] I'm sorry, I'm so--so sorry--

[His words hit against her heart like a hammer, cracking her outer layer of protection to find pain. Blistering and raw, and hopelessly real, it's almost a relief to feel the now, the present pain, as opposed to the distant aloofness of a false smile.

Except that it hurts. It hurts so much that Gracia sways on her feet.

And she's angry. She's so angry with him for leaving them, for promising to be there and then breaking it, just like everyone else in here life. She's furious that Elicia has to grow up as she did, without a father. She's so, so angry, with a fury she can not, will not show.

It's that determination, not to show him her anger, which keeps her standing, though she trembles with the force of keeping it suppressed.]

I know. [That's whispered.] I know.

[And then he moves to hold her, because he needs that, too. Give and take--he feels like he's taking so much more than he should. That's selfish and he's sorry for that, too. But how can he ever hope for things to get better if he won't admit--even to himself, let alone to her--that not everything is perfect?

Things were good. So good. He had her. He had Elicia. He had his best friends and others around him that might as well be called family. He had life--he shouldn't take that for granted for a second by being unhappy.

But he'd broken a promise. And it was a promise that couldn't be mended.

He speaks in hushed, rushed tones as he pulls her close.] I didn't keep my promise. I left you, and I--

[Hurt you. Changed you. Abandoned you.]

[Her heart is throbbing with every beat it takes, raw and bleeding and-

Yes, you did. How could you? We missed you. We needed you so much and you were just gone. And there is no going back, despite what this place would make us believe. How can we heal if you're here, and do anything other than live in hope if you're not? I'm angry, Maes.

Her voice is low, her throat tight.]

It wasn't your fault.

[How can he be so warm, pressed against her? How can she feel his heart beat through their chests? It's wrong and it's... wonderful and it hurts.]

[He wishes she would be angry with him. That would be something he could see, something he could pick up and put back together again. Something he could fix instead of being the one who broke first. He's not going to let himself forget that. She's the one suffering more and yet he broke first.

He wants to help her. He knows she's hurting in the same ways he is--and even more ways beyond that. Please, he wants to help her.

And he realizes--it can't just be one of them. Supporting the other, bearing the weight, wearing the smile while there's still ache inside. It might mean heartbreak. And it might mean facing things that want to stay submerged.

But they're stronger than this. He knows that. Together, they can get through this. Together, they can cry. And together, they can mend.

But it begins with uncovering wounds to let them breathe and heal.]

...Still. Still. I said I'd always be there. And I'm not.

[She's not superhuman. There's only so much pressure that she can take before she breaks, and the warmth of him and the words he's saying... she's just about reached that point.

God damn it, Maes.]

I know - I know that. Don't you think I know that?

[She moves to pull away.]

[He's not there. And no matter what happens, he'll never be able to forget that. That they're alone--Gracia, Elicia--alone.

But he can't let things be that hopeless. Even when she pulls away and the gesture makes his heart ache, he still gently holds her arms, looking her directly in the eyes.]

Of course I do. And it's...it's something I can't fix. [...Admitting it out loud is harder than he thought, and it's a moment of glancing away and blinking back tears before he can go on.] But I'm here. I'm here.

[She rips herself out of his hands.]

And it doesn't mean. anything. We can make believe what time we have here is real, we can dream... but it's only a dream.

[She wraps her arms around herself, her shoulders slumping.] It's only a dream.

[...Only...a dream.

That's what he'd thought when he first arrived here. When he'd first seen Elicia running to him across the schoolyard--just a dream, somehow locked in his consciousness even after death. But she'd reassured him it was real. And she has been right.

And since then, he'd talked and laughed and cared and played and thought and lived. And now--he could feel things as real, sharp, and raw and they ever could be.]

...I can't believe that. I've done too much living here to believe it. Because this is all I have now, and if this isn't real, then...I don't have anything.

[And he won't accept that. Not as long as he has breath and a heartbeat and love to give, he won't accept that.]

[You don't have anything. You're dead!

Instead, she just turns her back to him.]

[He winces inwardly--is this what he wanted? To push her away so she can't even bear to look at him?

Push through the pain. All he can do is be honest with her. And hope. Hope that it can be enough, that this life can be enough.]

...Please, Gracia. This is our only chance.

[Should she turn back around, he'll be holding out a hand to her.]

[She doesn't turn around. She's barely holding herself up. What more can she do?]

What do you want from me?

[There are so many answers he could give to that. There is so much to say. So much he's feeling that he wants to express to her. His outstretched hand aches for the broken contact with her, but she hasn't turned, and it falls slowly, soundlessly, to his side.

If he is going to answer that question, he is going to look into her eyes when he does so. Because he needs her to see, right then, the honesty, the love--the life in his eyes.

He steps forward, placing a hand on each shoulder, and turning her to face him.]

...I want you to be happy.

Out with the old....

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............................my emotions.

I knooooooooooooow ;_;

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that was such a beautiful tag ;w;

this thread will never make me stop crying

i am tearing up every. single. time.

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