ataraxionlogs | what a dark mistake all my life has been [semi-closed]

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what a dark mistake all my life has been [semi-closed]

CHARACTERS: Rey and potentially-really-pissed-off Friends.
LOCATION: Deck 40, mostly.
WARNINGS: Yelling and cursing and possibly cuddles oh god the horror.
SUMMARY: Rey is terrible. The end.
NOTES: Catch-all log for pretty much anything that has happened after this post.
If anyone wants to do something else for later in the month in regards to the May subplot, I can whip up a super special awesome starter or whatev.
(P.S. I can go either way with action or prose, whichever you prefer!)

There's a somber pause when Rey clicks the communicator off.

She'll deal with the aftermath later. Right now, she just wants a moment of peace.

Thanks to her recon syndrome, those moments are all too rare, because she's alone in an abandoned room on the fortieth floor. Eventually she will leave, most likely take refuge in Sophie's quarters.

For the time being, she'd rather delay the inevitable as much as she possibly can.

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Firo sees the post and wants to scream. And he does scream, but he manages to keep it off the network.

She promised. After a crazy rollercoaster of worrying about her lack of presence and then worrying what Smiley and his cohorts would do to her, he could finally relax just a little. He hadn't been happy about the idea of an anon post, but at least it would have left her able to share and him able to be reassured she hadn't just put a huge target on her back.

And then she went and attached her name to it anyway. Admittedly, now he's wondering just what he expected from her. Still, she promised.

He doesn't waste time responding to the post. He's cautious coming down, which suggests just how worried he is for her. Even though he wants to run straight to her, he watches his back, doubling around a few times, aimlessly going up and down lifts until he's relatively sure no one is trailing him.

At least, no one who's not some digital network creep or hiding in the walls or whatever. But what can he do about them?

He runs the rest of the way. When he reaches the 40th floor, he starts banging on each door he passes as he works his way to the address Rey had given him last time. He figures he might as well check all of them just in case she was tricking him with that number too. He resolved to go through every floor if he has to.

He doesn't want to call out her name just in case, but if he doesn't find her this way? He'll do what he has to.

To be fair! She only promised she wouldn't go down without a fight, and she was honest about that, too. Rey wasn't a walking powerhouse with several generations of memories belonging to skilled soldiers swirling about in her head, just so she could allow herself to be easily bested by would-be assassins.

But she knew Firo wouldn't see it the same way, and that no matter what she said and however she went about this, he would never be okay with her choice.

This was, after all, her choice.

Before long, she escapes the solitude of the abandoned quarters, only to hear the sound of banging farther down the hallway. Firo emerges into her sight.

Unlike last time, she doesn't make an effort to walk away. Instead, she silently slides her communicator into her tech pocket, leaning back against the wall behind her. Arms folded over her chest, she waits for Firo to make his way towards her, or at least notice her before he winds up pissing off one of the few people who live on this floor.

He's about to go to town on the next door when he spots Rey just standing there.

Small mercies, yes. At least he doesn't have to chase her down and tackle her this time. It's almost anti-climactic, in a way, when he was bracing himself to go through a repeat of their post-jump encounter from last month.

He's still in no mood to be glad that they're avoiding that, though.

He may not look very angry to someone who doesn't know him. He's not yelling or gesturing wildly and he's not hitting anything. Anymore. But there's a tightness in his step as he walks over to her and his eyes are unusually flinty.

There are quite a few things he wants to say. That he's glad she's okay is actually one of the biggest. Asking if she really is okay is the next one. But then he also wants to ask if she remembers their conversation and if she meant to lie. If she cares.

He keeps his arms rigidly by his sides, like his clenched fists are weighing them down. His voice is tense, the words clipped, as he speaks. "What the hell happened to anonymous, huh?"

As someone who knows Firo -- actually knows him, not simply in passing -- Rey is quick to discern his disposition before he even approaches her. From the way he carries himself to his tones when he speaks, even if he had said nothing over the network there is no doubt in her mind as to why he is here.

She would also be a complete idiot to not realize why he was so angry.

"I'm sorry." She seems to be saying that a lot these days. "I had no intention of hiding anymore."

In more ways than one.

He doesn't have to ask why she didn't tell him beforehand. Cursing himself inside, he wishes he'd kept his threat about trying to cop to it a secret from her--maybe then she would've been more open.

"You--" He wishes he'd rehearsed what he was going to say on his way down here. There had certainly been enough time, but he'd spent most of it mentally yelling at himself for not guessing that this would happen and for not--somehow--stopping her.

He shakes his head, forcing himself to sound coherent. Putting on his camorrista face is a bit of a struggle when he's dealing with Rey and not an enemy he can gut. "So you just completely put yourself out there, huh? You didn't have to go that far."

You promised, he wants to whine, even though it might be a little unfair to her. He can't remember if she ever used those exact words, but that's how he took it.

She's ready for him to get angry. In fact, she's been ready well before she even admitted what she did for all to see, and that Firo wouldn't be the first and only one to be upset about it.

Instinct tells Rey to fall back to her old ways. To go back to pretending, be the living weapon that woke up here barely knowing her own name and couldn't understand things, and tell Firo that she has no idea why he's so furious. If Firo wants to yell and ask her why she did it, she could just play ignorant.

But she's far beyond that now. And like she just said, she's not hiding.

"Yes, I did. Told you before, this isn't just about me and what I did. What if--" She stops, biting down on the inside of her cheek. "What if I do it again? What if next time, it'll be someone I know?"

The objections are familiar and, admittedly, she does have a point. This really is important to her and he feels a brief pang of guilt that he's opposing her. Thinking of words like 'traitor' and 'execution,' though, do something to assuage that.

He takes another step forward to get in her face, even if he doesn't realize consciously that he's doing it. Rey isn't the threat he's afraid of, but his subconscious is better at confronting what's in front of him than what's currently abstract.

His volume goes up. Paradoxically, that means that his anger's gone down a tick, but it still doesn't mean too much when dealing with a Firo level of anger. "And what if there isn't a next time, huh? And what if people try to toss you in the brig or hurt you or whatever?!"

Even if they're brought on by an unhealthy bit of paranoia, Firo wants to insist that his 'what ifs' are just as valid as hers. Spending his whole life soundly on the other side of the law, Firo just doesn't trust those moral types to treat even an honest wrongdoer well.

Did she do something wrong? He's not even sure about that. But he knows this ship is full of goodie-goodies and they tend to see things differently.

It's not that hard to get up in Rey's grill. With her back to the wall, she's not going anywhere.

Firo's grievances aren't that unreasonable. She has already considered the possibility of being thrown in the brig -- something that does legitimately scare her a little after spending a month locked up in her quarters. Her expression remains neutral, forcing herself to not reveal that lingering fear when Firo is so clearly showing his.

"No one will be obtuse enough to believe that throwing me in the brig will solve anything. And I've already worked out an alternative with Sophie."

Of course, part of that agreement they made was killing Rey if she ever got out of control, but she has enough confidence in Sophie's abilities that it may not have to come to that.

"It'll be okay." Even though she sounds so sure of herself, it doesn't breed much confidence.

Sophie doesn't pursue Rey. She's been staying, she'll come back eventually.

And when she does, she'll find Sophie in the pile of blankets and pillows she calls a bed, reading. She looks up when Rey comes in, and shifts her legs to make room for the other woman.

"That was awfully full of self-recrimination, considering that you had no real control over your actions."

There's no clear emotion in her tone, which probably makes it worse. She sounds calm, even close to gentle. Definitely far from angry. It's a statement, without any kind of clear intent to guilt or scold or...do anything, exactly. Sophie wants to know what she always wants to know. Why.

Of course it's only a matter of time before Rey returns to Sophie's room. She's tired, somewhat sickly-looking and it's difficult to pinpoint the cause between the jump and the strain she's been under.

When Sophie moves, Rey obliges, joining the other woman at her side among the collective pile. It's not much different from the space she'd made for herself in her own quarters, which she's since left behind -- and intends to stay that way, at least for a while.

"It's better that people know what happened than to leave them guessing."

Thanks for that, Smiley.

"It's better that people know the full story of what happened. But you didn't choose the White Room for him, something else did."

Even not knowing what the White Room is, between this and Remus' map transmission, she knows that it's bad. This is something of a conundrum in her head, as White is of the empyrean, of Heaven. Eternal suffering is of the Red, Smiley's color of choice, and it seems that mysterious figure is just as twisting in his words and promises as the Devil she knows. It's something she has yet to resolve, what could be called Good on the Tranquility and what could be called Evil.

"Does anyone know whether this Smiley is actually helping us, or is he simply believed because no one else offers anything?"

He tsks his tongue and shakes his head. "Don't be so sure about that."

Maiza used to say that the only thing they could trust the police for was being stupid. He imagines that applies for a lot of people. He's remarked a few times how odd he finds it that there are so many "nice" people on the ship and he's sure this will be the time that they find out the drawback to that.

The brig shouldn't be as scary as it is. But he knows how lock up is and--especially after what she put herself through last month--the thought of her going through it again is terrible.

He leans in closer, gritting his teeth. "An alternative? To what?"

An alternative to blowing her cover and announcing everything? It can't be that; that ship's already sailed and sunk. An alternative to the brig? Why the hell should she be thinking about that?

"No, but it may happen again. Would rather be stopped than to allow that to happen."

Sure, Rey couldn't help herself before, but next time, maybe things will be different. Because the alternative actually does scare her.

She would rather die than to be used like that again. With any luck, and Sophie's help, hopefully it won't have to come to that. If there is a next time.

"He-- has helped us before. It may be possible that he wants to, but can't. At least, in the way we think."

"Which is why you're here." Then she pauses, tilting her head. "But there are others, you said."

Which means Rey isn't the only one who needs to be watched, or perhaps killed. Sophie really doesn't have the moral capacity for this. Or maybe the real problem is that every side can make sense.

"The Devil saved my life. He kept his bargain to the letter. That makes him no less the Devil. Why can't Smiley help? And what does he mean by 'help'?" Christine had thought she was helping them both by attempting to murder her twin, after all.

"Unless there's a way to undo the compulsion, then it isn't safe to leave me alone. That's how all of this happened in the first place. Having someone keep watch on me is the only way to be sure of that."

Smiley even seemed to think so himself. Don't leave her alone, he'd said. It wasn't like he was calling for her head on a platter or anything.

That she knows of, anyway.

She falls silent, looking him in the eye.

"I have only ever lied to you one other time before, Firo." Rey says his name like it carries weight. That she isn't going to go back to telling him off if she can help herself. "Won't blame you if you don't believe me now, but I swear to you that it won't happen again."

Firo looks away, biting his tongue. "...All right, so long as it's her." Rey seems to trust her and she hasn't seemed to have hurt her in the time they've spent together so far. She also wasn't one of the names Smiley gave.

He's not used to being suspicious of his friends and he hates it. He forces himself to stare back at her, struggling to keep his voice measured. "How is that supposed to convince me?"

But she said she's not going to convince him, really, and that kind of hurts.

Being in the Camorra, you have to learn not to let left out or covered up information bother you. There are times when you just can't ask questions and Firo knows that. But this is different--for one, Rey isn't his boss. For another, given her track record, how can he not worry that she'll lie or leave something out that could get her hurt or killed?

How is he supposed to protect his friend when she does that?

Rey only nods. Yes, there are others. But as far as she knows none of them went to the White Door. Why, she has no idea.

When Sophie talks about the Devil again, Rey listens. It's another thing that she's good at, other than pretending to be someone else. Like most sensible people would, the other woman has questions that so few left on the Tranquility have the answers to.

"Smiley's saved my life, too." How Rey could have forgotten that, she has no idea. Perhaps it was because she had assumed that he was the one who had been controlling her in the corridors, and not... something else. "A lot of us were sick. I was dying, and he was the one who helped people track down the cure."

She scratches her forehead. An little tick of hers, if Sophie hasn't noticed by now. Whether or not it's Rey's tick or one of the women whose memories are in her head, she can't say.

"Don't know. Didn't understand what he meant with things like 'stopping the clock' and 'it's too late'. He's talked about a 'clock' before, but-- just, don't understand."

Too late for what?

"So why do you consider yourself any different? If you were all being compelled, you each had a role to play." Was this simply a proverbial coin toss Rey lost, or is she special somehow? Sophie has no idea.

"Smiley is a bit too oblique for my taste. It is difficult to be successful if you don't know what end you're working toward. If saving you served his purposes, that doesn't mean his purposes are a good outcome for us."

There are so few people left that Rey could bring herself to trust, and Sophie's one who seems like she can make the harder choices. Because she understands how much it means to Rey if she ever lost herself again.

I don't know is what she starts to say when Firo asks her. How is she supposed to ever expect him to trust her again after the things she's done recently?

Her chest tightens, mostly at the thought of what would happen if things ever got worse in this place, and what that would mean for Firo. How much it would hurt him in the way that her dying had hurt her brother.

She looks away, but only briefly. Her mouth opening but her mind still trying to process the things she really wants to say, that isn't just I don't know how to make you trust me again but I really want you to trust me.

"It isn't. But, I want you to know that I care about you." She hesitates, trying to focus. Make herself be steel so she can continue. He knows this. He already knows this. "In fact, I think I've started to love you, because hurting you hurts and I know I can't do it anymore."

Perhaps I love you like a brother is what should've come out, but her head is all scrambled up right now with all that's been happening.

He wants so badly for her to answer him with a solid argument, one of those things that only smart people like Rey or Luck or Maiza can come up with. Something that will make him feel like a fool for not trusting her and will have him immediately nodding and everything can go back to normal. As normal as it gets here.

But of course that's just a stupid fantasy. Waiting for her to speak feels like it takes hours. Firo's not sure how he stays still for so long, but he does, just watching her.

When she does talk, he's so shocked that he steps back, the fight draining out of him. He doesn't think Rey would attempt driving him off like she did last time, but still would have found that more likely than this.

Luckily, Firo tends to think of familial love first, so there's not going to be trouble there, even if he is blinking in confusion, face turning a little pink.

"...I'm sorry."

He keeps driving her to this point where they have to talk about all these emotions and stuff. And she doesn't look happy now, so that's what he has to say.

"I didn't..." He grips his head. It hurts her too, that's what cuts through all his confusion and shock, because that makes him feel wretched. It's just an endless chain of hurting each other, isn't it? He hates how choked up his voice sounds, but he makes the words come out. "I don't want it to hurt you."

This part he can do, though. He sucks in a deep breath, nods his head in agreement, and looks her right in the eyes. "You're family to me."

That's why I've been such an ass about this, is what he wants to add, but it's a little hard to talk right now.

It's funny that Sophie says that. Not funny ha-ha, but just--

Rey doesn't know. Something about having a "role to play" sounds all too familiar. After all, that's basically along the lines of what Smiley said to people, wasn't it?

You're exactly where you need to be.

That last thing she says strikes a chord. Rey gaps at Sophie, her eyes widening before she tears them away. She leans forward, elbows on her knees and hands over her head as she lurches like she's going to vomit. But she just feels sick to her stomach.

"Shit. Yes, it's possible-- shit." She bites down, her teeth gritting. It just all rings too familiar, if it turns out that Sophie is right.

Sophie doesn't expect that reaction, or rather, she isn't even aware that Rey is capable of reacting so strongly, as contained as the other woman normally is. Before she thinks about her own reactions, one of her hands is cool on the back of Rey's neck--cold, really, to help quell the roil of her stomach. It doesn't hold, just rubs up into her hair and down to her shoulders, soothing.

"Please don't vomit on the bed," she murmurs, ever practical. Smiley is suspicious to Sophie precisely because she has been here before. The Devil is possibly the only person who has kept his promises to her, and even though she'd made the bargain, it hadn't been in her favor in the end. Remaining herself was an incidental side effect. Perhaps there is something in the room, or perhaps it is a realm of its own. It doesn't matter. There is a war between Red and White, and a bounty of souls in the middle for the winning, and that is a story she knows only too well.

"Breathe, Rey. Everything is as it has been."

After dropping that bombshell on him, Rey can't bring herself to look away this time. She just watches him, hoping like hell that she didn't make things weird again or Firo wouldn't misconstrue her words into something else. For the time being she just had no other way of saying them.

There's something reassuring about what he says. Something that, despite the pain she feels, she'll get over. At the end of the day they're not going to part ways and never speak to each other again. She doesn't know why that was ever a concern. Perhaps after what she'd said before, she worried that maybe he would stop trusting her altogether. She wouldn't blame him if he did.

The corners of her lips tug but not quite into the smile that her facial muscles fight to be. At first she felt weak, feeling like the only thing holding her up was the wall behind her. But she is steel now, only after she releases a shuddering exhale and straightens herself onto her own two feet. Her expression softens, but waning of the hurt she struggles with. She tries to make herself tall, be strong again, but not completely hardened.

"You're family, too," she replies; surprisingly gentle, all things considered. "How about we start this conversation over?"

She makes a shaky sound then, like a laugh but-- also not.

The cold doesn't bother her. Neither does the touch or the smooth words that Sophie speaks. But she focuses on doing just that -- breathe.

After a moment, she brings a hand down over her face. Her forehead clammy, and her face blanched. She isn't on the verge of vomiting, but she sure can't help but feel nauseated.

"Sorry," she blurts. "It's just-- everything that's been happening. It's all hitting rather close to home."

And it's getting harder and harder to put things behind her when things have a way of creeping back under her skin lately.

"I think this place is meant to do that." It hasn't really touched Sophie yet, but she knows that life is what it is and soon enough she will pay the price for the relative peace she's experienced here, even as other lives fall into chaos.

Her hands guide Rey from sitting up in a ball to lying down in one, and Sophie lies down behind her, fitting herself against Rey's back. There's nothing romantic about the gesture; it might almost be motherly except that Sophie never knew her mother. She has no idea what to do, what to say, how to help. So she strokes Rey's hair back off her clammy forehead with a cold hand and waits for some clue what to do.

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what a dark mistake all my life has been [semi-closed]

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