exsilium | three. (video.)

three. (video.)

( At least this time Ellie isn't in some random, ramshackle building, but enjoying the warmth of the kitchen and a giant cup of coffee. At least she looks marginally better rested than she has on previous occasions. )

So, with that whole swap thing, I've been thinking. ( A pause, and there's a note of self mockery in her voice: ) Because I don't think enough when weird stuff isn't happening. Or less-weird stuff, at any rate. ( Has she really digressed already and wandered off with her thoughts? She shakes her head at herself. )

I was thinking about anger. Or any emotion, I guess, when they get that intense that you feel like all your insides are writhing about like snakes, but anger's the one that stuck out for me. We're all in this war, and some of us have been in wars before and some haven't, and everyone handles it in these different ways.

( She trails off; articulating this isn't going so smoothly as she'd expected, but sometimes you just have to throw things at the wall and see what sticks. Homer used to throw pasta at the wall, a lot, and a bloody lot of that stuck. The memory makes her smile a little. )

I mean, just before I got here, Kev-- uh, this guy in our group, he wasn't doing so well with everything. ( See, Fi, she at least tried not to name and shame. Belatedly. ) Everyone tried different things to get him going, and it was this weird insight-- I guess it just said a bit about the kind of people we are, depending what tactic we used. ( Fi: sympathy. Lee: abuse. Homer: encouragement. )
I was all logic and common sense. ( A beat, before she continues, speaking a little more slowly as she grapples with her pride and tries to think it out. ) Sometimes I don't think that really shows the full picture, but.

( She could say that it definitely doesn't, not when you got anger that just bubbles up and blows being reasonable right out of the water. She could, but does not. )

Anyway, I was talking to this guy here, before, about anger. How you can use it, and that, make it work for you, and I just... I didn't know if that really worked for anyone. If anger's a weapon, or if you got an on/off switch for it, or what? 'Cause there's this quote in uh, this Shakespeare play - “wrath makes him deaf,” I think the Queen in Henry VI. ( She squints, trying to remember. ) And then there's another bit, about not coming between “the dragon and his rage,” in King Lear. I think Lear was already going crazy, though, by then, though. ( Quietly: ) It's been a while since I studied them. Trying to read that stuff and figure out all the language is hard, without those special high school study editions.

( Where was she even going with this? )

So I guess I just wondered what you lot thought about it. Anger and controlling anger and using it and whether it screws you up, or what.

( A beat, and she smiles crookedly. ) Or we could talk about dragons. We don't have any back home, but some of you have to have dragons, right?

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[Steh smiles for the hand on hers, appreciating the gesture of comfort for what it is, even if she doesn't particularly feel like she needs it. That's just how things were.

She listens quietly until everything Ellie has to say, sipping on her coffee and turning it all over in her head until she can come up with a good response. She can't help the frown at what she hears about Lee; she can understand anger, es, but she hates the idea of other peope being endangered for it.]

I think Ezio might have one of the more sensible ways of looking at it. Anger can destroy you, if you let it, and it sounds like that might be what's happening to Lee. [There's an apology in her expression, sympathy, because she knows how much Ellie cares about her friends and it feels cruel to say "you friend's anger will destroy him", but - honesty.]

Sometimes you can't let go of anger, and that's not... it's not a fault of anyone's, it doesn't make them any worse or better of a person, it's just how things are. But in those cases you have to find a way to deal with it or it's gonna eat you up, whether that means channelling it, or finding other ways to let it out, you have to do something.

[She doesn't tend to talk as much as Ellie does, at least - not in the same way, but occasionally she can string a few sentences together that sound meaningful.]

Yeah. ( She thinks so, as well, drawing her feet up onto the chair so that she can prop her chin on her knees. ) He says some halfway decent things, that guy. ( It's a relief to have adults that at least appear reliable, that say good things here and there. In fact, she'd be hard pressed to say it wasn't a relief just having adults around, even if they've proven themselves about as much use as a poke in the eye, most of the war. ) I might see if I can pick his brain about it some more.

( And as for Lee... God, Lee. Sometimes she couldn't bear to even look at him, see all the things he was turning into and losing, and sometimes she just wanted to hold and tell him it'd all be okay. It'd be a lie, but if he could believe it for just a few minutes, then that would be some relief. ) He's never been the same, since he heard about his parents. We've all seen terrible things, and done them, and Lee got stuck with the worst of that, sometimes. ( So did she, and Homer, but Lee just swooped in before you knew what was happening. )

When I think about Lee, I get scared about what my being angry might do.

( That's a word she doesn't use much. Scared. It's not something she admits. )

It can't hurt. [Although Steph makes a note to check out this Ezio, to make sure he's not someone who could be potentially dangerous. She's glad that Ellie seems to have plenty of people to talk to, but that won't stop her being a) paranoid and b) overprotective.

Even have read a lot of the things Elie write about the war, having talked with her about it, there's still so much context and infomation she's missing, which is why it takes a while for her to decide what to say on the topic of Lee. For a moment, she just reaches out to rest her fingers lightly against Ellie's thigh.]

That's enough. Being scared. Things go bad, especially with anger, when you start thinking it's justified, that you can't do anything wrong. [It's an odd thing to remember, but she thinks of when her dad "died", and how furious she'd been. Edward Nigam isn't a good person, not by a long shot, but she'd beaten him not because of anything he'd done, but because she was so angry she could barely see straight.] If you're scared of it, you'll keep questioning yourself, and you won't get lost in anger.

I do think I'm justified, a lot of the time. ( She's very quiet, keeping her gaze down. ) Admitting we were scared, it wasn't okay. I mean, I told Kevin in was okay to be scared once, he wouldn't talk to me for days. When you admit you might be scared, even to yourself, then being able to do anything gets so much harder. I just had to tell myself I was fine, and that I was actually brave.

( She's still not actually looking at Steph, just twisting her hands over, letting her fingers trail up the scar running along the inside of her right arm, almost right up to the inside of her elbow. )

I dunno. It's different being here from being home. There's more time to be removed from the danger and just... think.

[She frowns, worried that she's said the wrong thing, and gently catches Ellie's wrist to stop her from touching the scar, lacing their fingers together instead.]

There's a difference between being justified in your actions and in your anger. [It all makes sense in her head, but she's having a hard time working out how to articulate it, so for now she just sighs and moves on.]

He probably took it like an accusation. [Kevin, she mean, and she can see how someone would. But her hand tightens on Ellie's] I get scared a lot, I don't think it makes it harder for me to do what I do.

[Sometimes being scared can be as much of a driving force as being angry]

Maybe it's good to have a chance to think. [She wants to say "maybe it'll make things better when you go home" but she's not sure if they'll even remember their time in Exsilium.]

( Steph's touch is a relief, a distraction from the scar, from unravelling the memories of that night after the attack on Harvey's Heroes. She feels like she should thank Steph or... something, try to explain. Instead she just stands up, tugging Steph very gently and bee-lining towards her room. Sitting up doesn't feel like a fun option, any more: just splattering onto her bed is far more appealing. )

Kevin's always scared. I mean, we all are. But when Fi gets scared she keeps going anyway. She was looking after Kevin better than the rest of us, and nearly got herself killed for it. ( Without thinking, she's finally managed to acknowledge how good Fi is under pressure. Fi hasn't cracked: Ellie herself has.

She cringes. ) I cracked. One time, after we got back from Wellington. I screamed in the middle of Wirrawee when we were trying to get the Kiwis into the airfield.

( She's not looking at Steph when she says it: it's a shameful admission. )

[There's no protest from Steph, she simply lets Ellie lead her, tugging off her boots and climbing onto the bed; it's easy enough to rearranage them both into a comfortable position. She tucks Ellie against her, one arm around the other girls's wasit and the other stroking through her hair once, before resting there.

She hates hearing about the war, about what these kids have been forced to do. Becoming a vigilante was a choice, and that's a comfort to her, the knowledge that no matter happened in her line of work, at least she chose to be there. Ellie doens't have that luxury.]

Ellie... [There's too much pain in her voice, she can't imagine how much something like that would weigh on someone, especially someone like Ellie.] You've been asked to do things that no one should have to do, and you've survived it, you've made a difference. But you're also human, and sometimes that means you're gonna make mistakes, but you can't let those eat you up, just like you can't let anger do it.

[Pot. Kettle. But that's not important right now.]

( She rests her hand over Steph's, re-tangling their fingers. ) They never came back, Steph. Twelve of them never came back.

( No. Ellie shakes her head. ) Being scared isn't okay, not for me. ( Never mind that she was falling apart, that she was still suffering the outcome of so many things. ) I know I can't be angry, anymore, but I can't be scared.

( Her grip on Steph's hand tightens. ) I don't know what I'm doing.

[She wishes there was a way she could take away everything that Ellie's had to suffer through, even if it meant going through it herself. She knows what it's like to have a body count, to remember names and faces of people she's failed, and it's not something she'd ever wish on anyone. Especially not someone she cares about.

But there's nothing she can do except be here now and try to help Ellie keep herself together. Her hand in Ellie's hair shifts a little, moving more to cup the back of her neck, Steph's thumb against her jaw as she leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Ellie's brow in a spur of the moment gesture of - comfort, solidarity, something.]

It's okay not to know. [There's a silent for now implied, the knowledge that it won't be okay once she's back in the fray, but for now she can be uncertain.] I get up every morning and I go out every night with that suit on because I want to make a difference. It's not about anger, not anymore, or fear or hope or anything like that. I push past pain, or deal with sleepless nights, failing grades, the neverending ache when I lose someone, no matter who they are, by remembering each time I did make a difference. That's what works for me, that's how I do it, but no one can tell you how to do things yourself.

( Shaking, her arm loops around Steph's waist and she just presses as close as she can, fingers gripping the back of her shirt.

Part of her hates that she keeps doing this to Steph, falling apart after getting herself worked up, but the other part of her is just glad that she has the liberty of it for the first time in so long, has someone that she can hold onto that she doesn't have to worry about not seeing her as the leader, not burdening them with things they can't handle, or won't handle. She can be human, around Steph.

Wordlessly, she nods a little, fingers still pressing against Steph's back, mapping the contours, tracing her shoulder blades with her fingertips and trying to steady her breathing. )

I want to make a difference. ( Quiet. Can she even hear her? )

[There's a familiarity in the touch that would have her smiling and making a teasing comment, if the mood wasn't so heavy. The touch might be similar, but she feels nothing like she did a few nights ago. (And any good mood that had put her in is lost in Ellie's sadness, but Stph doesn't begrudge her for it).]

You do. [She slides her hand a little lower down Ellie's neck, massaging the muscles with her fingertips, trying to ease some of the tension.] And you'll keep making a difference, a positive one, nothing can take that from you.

[Not anger, not fear, not screaming and losing twelve soldiers.]

Edited (typing, how does it work) 2013-03-20 12:58 (UTC)

( She laughs, an awkward, disjointed sound. ) Yeah.

( A single sarcastic syllable, even as she knows that she's made a difference, and one for the better. After all, if she hadn't, then she wouldn't have been imprisoned, would she? For now she achieves great things like derailing a fun visit into being desperately curled up on her bed. At least she's not crying, even if her chest is clenched up and her breathing raw.

She thinks better of saying anything, and keeps her mouth shut, opting to just keep mapping Steph's back, frowning as she feels a knotted muscle and pressing her fingers against it without thinking. ) Oh. Sorry.

( Belatedly, closing her eyes with an internal eye roll. ) Maybe I can become a vigilante.

( It's half a joke, a throwaway comment, and half something she actually wants to consider. She doesn't know. )

It's okay. [She doesn't mind the touch; fingers pressing into knotted muscle isn't exactly pleasant, but she's had worse, and she doesn't mind simply because it's Ellie.

What she does mind is the thought of Ellie being a vigilante, and she frowns, even if Ellie can't see it. Steph believes in what she does, that they do make a difference, that they're saving people and making the world a better place. But she knows what their expected life span is like, what happens when things go wrong, the sacrifices they have to make.]

You don't want to be. It'll eat at you just like anger, burn you up from the inside out until there's nothing left.

[Bruce.]

( Another apology, almost inaudible for all its being mumbled against Steph's neck, and the touch turns gentler, absentmindedly kneading the muscle, trying to ease it away.

She stays silent as Steph speaks, content to listen, actually listen and consider her words. ) You do it.

( Not especially defiant, more that gentle reminder, concern, that Steph doesn't seem to indulge in for herself. )

[This is familiar, too, except Ellie' fingers are all flesh.

She doesn't need the reminder, even if the way Ellie says it makes her heart ache. The first thing that comes to mind is what she told Bruce, when she had a length of chain around her father's neck. She'd thought her life was already destroyed.]

I didn't have much else.

[Being a vigilante was the first thing that felt like having power, like being able to choose her future instead of feeling like she was going to end up like her father or her mother.]

( She pulls back, then. Not fast, no jerked, stiff motions, just drawing away enough to try and catch Steph's gaze. Even if she doesn't succeed, she makes a careful study of Steph's face. There isn't a great deal she can say, is there? What can be offered, though, is the same comfort that Steph offers her; that solidarity. Her fingers rest very gently at Steph's jaw as she leans up to kiss her brow, a lingering press of affection. )

You don't have to keep doing it, if it's hurting you. There's nothing wrong with taking a step back, sometimes. Even just to take a break.

( There's no urging her to quit, trying to persuade her, nothing like that. It's just that sometimes you need someone else to take responsibility for saying something and presenting the possibility to consider. )

[Steph meets Ellie's gaze, giving her a little smile, though she blinks at the kiss, surprised at the gesture even if she did the same thing a few moments ago.]

I took a break for a year, but I couldn't-- Gotham's sunk into my bones, I can't ever leave her.

[Steph doesn't get poetic very often, but if anything can inspire it, Gotham does. What she means is I can't stop fighting for her, even if there's more to it than that, but it's what drew her back from Africa, when she was so scared of going home.]

You're not in Gotham now.

( There's a gentler way to say that, of course, but gentle isn't really Ellie's gift. She worries at the inside of her cheek as her own words hit her ears, just trying to work out how that'd go. ) Gotham's home. You don't owe this place anything. Especially not when they took you from home.

( And, part of her is reminded that this isn't home. That, one day, surely, they'd go home. Steph would go. And, if she could, she knows Steph would go now. )

[Steph can't help the wince that crosses her face, but she smooths out her expression quickly enough, not wanting Ellie to feel bad.]

There are other Gothamites here. [Dick is the main one that comes to mind, because he's the one she feels like she needs to protect.] And if what the Initiative says is right, about our own worlds being in danger... [It's hard to shrug when she's lying down, but she manages an approximation of the gesture.] There are still things that need protecting.

[She frowns though, thoughtful, like there's more she wants to say, and there is, as soon as she can figure out how. She can see what Ellie is thinking, about Steph's opinions of herself, and she doesn't want her to worry.]

Look. [a sigh, as she taps an absent rhythm against Ellie's back.] I don't know if I want to be a vigilante forever, maybe I'll find another way to help people, when I'm older. But - when I was younger, doing this was the only option I felt like I had, and that's hard to let go of.

I get it. ( She glances down, which... is possibly another thing that isn't very effective when you're lying down. ) Even though I hated going back, I-- there was no way I could've stayed away. Not really, not when everything's still so messed up. And if the others were going back, I wasn't going to let them go without me.

( Even if her pride wasn't part of the equation, she hadn't been concerned with her pride: she'd been scared. She didn't want to die. But the others needed her, and more importantly, she needed to know what was happening back home, and that everything possible was being done. When they didn't know what was happening to their parents. Though, maybe for some of them, not knowing would have been better. ) You gotta do what's right for you. I'm on your side, whatever you decide to do, with anything.

( That much is a certainty, even if everything else around them is confusing and fucked up, and impossible to work out. They were a team. That's how she figured it. )

I just don't want you to get hurt, either.

[Back home, she would've thought the only people who could understand her would be other Gothamites, even Kara never really got it, when Steph tried to explain. But Ellie gets it, like Ellie gets so much about Steph that she's awlwas struggled to explained. It's strange, but it's a relief too, just like the way Ellie never questions her abilities, the way she just - supports Steph.

She's so used to people doubting her that it's difficult to know what to do with Ellie's unwavering support.]

I'll be careful, promise.

[It's not a promise she makes lightly.]

You better.

( Thank you, is perhaps what she really means. Instead, she settles for settling back down with her head tucked under Steph's chin. ) We'll be okay.

( Both of them. They'd drag each other through it all, and come out the other side the better for it. She'd carry Steph and Fi and Cedric, Collette -- all the others, she'd drag them through this, kicking and screaming if she had to. They'd survive this war, and they'd make sure their homes survived, too. And maybe most importantly, they'd survive themselves. )

[She lets Ellie settle, then brushes her fingers through her hair, carefullly working out any knots. It's a light, repetitive gesture, aiming to soothe Ellie.]

We will be.

[Even if she doesn't have the allies she's used to, even if she's not in an environment she's used to, she has Ellie, and that seems like enough.]

( Her fingers resume their path from before, trailing up Steph's spine before she falls into that absent-minded mission she set herself against tense muscles. This was fine. They were fine. )

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three. (video.)

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