PSL for Renart

[advanced]

Comments

[advanced]

I wish I could tell you that you will.

[Maybe the Bucky of old would have done, just offered a comforting platitude, and perhaps that would have been a kindness.]

You might not, and maybe he'll be back tomorrow. But even if you don't, at least you had what time you had, right?

[aigue]

That should be enough, shouldn't it?

[But she doesn't sound reassured.]

It isn't. I'm too selfish to be satisfied with just memories.

[advanced]

I don't think anyone thinks it's enough when it happens to them.

[There's no easy answer here, no quick fix for the pain of loss.]

It's not fair, but some day you'll find that it hurts less, that's just how it works.

[aigue]

I don't know.

[She could just agree with him and end the conversation there. It's how she usually deals with pain, by dismissing it as nothing. But he'd be unhappy if she knew she was doing that, and it isn't healthy.]

Fairy Tales remember so much, it all goes into our Stories. I could push it all down but it would still be there any time I opened it up and thought about him.

[advanced]

I'm not saying you should push it down, just that remembering will hurt less in time. It'll be an ache, not a stab.

[At least that's what he's been told.]

[aigue]

I don't want an ache, I want Monty back.

[advanced]

...sometimes we have to learn to live with what we don't want.

[Sorry, Renart, that's the sad truth.]

[aigue]

[That miserable feeling is sinking in again. She sniffs.]

That's my entire life. I'm sick of it.

[advanced]

It just feels that way because this is fresh, there are good things happen in your life too.

[She's told him about them, about Beowolf and her other friends.]

[aigue]

[She huffs, ready to dismiss him, but after a few moments of thought straightens up and glances over.]

You're about the only good thing in my life right now. You and the tribbles.

[advanced]

[A slight pink flush stains the back of his neck, and he does his best not to look pleased because he has a vague inclination that would be insensitive at a moment like this.]

Pretty sure the tribbles have me beat, they're not so much trouble.

[aigue]

They're a handful sometimes, as all children can be.

[She's still staring at him.]

You're not, though. You're only stubborn, sometimes.

[advanced]

I'm not stubborn at all compared to you and John.

[And Steve. Steve always had the monopoly on stubborn.]

...quit staring, do I have something on my face?

[aigue]

[There's a moment where she considers arguing with him, but ultimately just shakes her head.]

No. I just... [This will probably make him feel awkward.] Really want to kiss you right now.

[advanced]

[It's been a long time since they last kissed, since their declarations of love and the conversation where they agreed it could never be. She's damn right that this makes him feel awkward. And sad, incredibly sad, because it seems like she's just trying to cling to anything she can to mask the pain of losing Monty.

His smile is soft and sad around the edges.]

Pretty sure you'd regret it.

[aigue]

[He's absolutely right. With her friends and entire life gone, with Monty gone - right now it feels like all she has left is sitting here in this small, bunker-like home.]

I wouldn't.

[More like, she isn't going to entertain the thought of regretting this later.]

Would you?

[advanced]

[He's not sure if she's asking if he would regret it, or if he would kiss her. Either way, the answer takes some thinking about. He tries not to lie to her, but sometimes working out the tangle in his own head is difficult.]

I'd regret it if it hurt you later, and I'd regret knowing that I was just a proxy for Monty. But the kiss itself? No, I wouldn't regret that, I haven't regretted the others.

[aigue]

You aren't a proxy.

[That's all she's going to say. Whether it's true or not is another matter, but she doesn't want him feeling like he's lesser to Monty.

Because after she says that she's leaning in to press her lips against his.]

[advanced]

[Even though it's been months since they last kissed, the feel of her lips against his still feels oddly familiar. It awakens the small whisper in the back of his head that sounds like Steve's voice, the one that tells him to grab onto anything that makes him happy because he deserves it after all this time.

He returns the kiss, soft and tender, but only for a few moments before he pulls back. She's going to regret this, he knows it. She'll feel guilty, like she cheated on Monty when he wasn't even cold in his grave.]

Maybe not usually, but tonight I would be.

[aigue]

That isn't true.

[She's sounding a little more forceful, knowing that it's better for both of them if he isn't despite the reality. Desperation is creeping in as she doesn't move.]

I want to stay the night. Without the tribbles, I can drop them off with Gabriel.

[advanced]

Wasn't going to let you be alone anyway.

[It feels cruel to lay down ground rules, to stop whatever this is before it begins. But tonight is the wrong time, if there even is a right time, and it would sour things between them to let it go ahead.]

You can take the mattress, I'll take the floor.

[aigue]

[Well, that's about half of what she wants. But half isn't enough.]

You don't have to sleep on the floor.

[advanced]

[He reaches across and cups her cheek, thumb tracing a soft pattern over her cheek.]

I do. It wouldn't be right, Renart.

[aigue]

[His touch makes her lower lip tremble, and she abruptly pulls away to go gather the tribbles.]

I don't care if it is or not.

[They're attacking the last remnants of the hot dogs, and once she's scooped them up she moves to the door to get her boots on.]

I'm taking them to Gabriel.

[advanced]

[He doesn't want to make her cry, he doesn't want to hurt her more. Why do all the situations that might end in them coming together in some way will cause hurt in one way or another?

He doesn't answer, he just watches her in silence as she gathers the tribbles and walks out. He waits until she's gone before turning off the movie that neither of them really were watching, and starting to pace.

What the hell does he do?]