[Unashamedly, despite the comment about having an embarrassing amount.
Steph fishes the bags of candy out of the box and slides them over to the table to Stan, since they're his, and then she's going to clear a space so she can start showing Peace how to use some of the toys. She's not too surprised the girl isn't familiar with them, considering she hadn't seen too much in the way of toys back in Exsilium; it's why she got fairly generic things instead of getting fancy.]
[Stan gives the candy a look that's almost as baffled as the look Peace gives the toys, but he's not going to argue with it. He opens the bag and peeks inside. Sugar is basically gold around here.
Peace watches Stephanie playing with the toys, but she doesn't try to join in just yet.]
[She holds out one of the toy cars to Peace; she isn't expecting the girl to have seen many of them, considering there were only ever a few around Exsilium, but she's hoping that pushing things on wheels around on a flat surface is fun for little kids regardless of whether they know context.]
Yeah, maybe I can set up the VR room to work like a projector, so she can watch things on a bigger screen. I think I still have Land Before Time, too.
Luckily there are two cars, so Steph is pushing one around the table, using the Duplo and Peace's plate of food as obstructions to "drive" around, just to make things a little more interesting.]
[Facing the wrong way is more than acceptable; Steph's totally going to make some car noises to go along with this little game, before looking back at Stan.]
It's about dinosaurs, it's cute.
[Guess who identified way too hard with Cera.]
Ellie managed to track it down a few months ago, so I've still got the file.
[Why is Batgirl making car noises at a little kid and talking about dinosaur movies and giving Stan candy? This. This is so not the same lady he's met every time before this. Is he hallucinating or something? He didn't take anything weird or fun today...]
Wait, what's in this?
[In retrospect, just eating candy from someone who usually hates you with blind trust is probably not that great of an idea.]
[She looks up at that, and the only way to describe her expression is hurt. Logically, she knows it might be justified paranoia, considering the way their first meeting went, but she's at least been polite in most of their other interactions.]
I wouldn't hurt you, Stanley. Or Peace. [Her gaze drops, and she reaches out to brush her fingers against Peace's arm, smiling at her when she looks up.] You don't have to forgive me for what I did, but I hope you can believe that.
[For a guy who couldn't be fucked to bring any of his own stuff, but tenderly scooped up a toddler and ran with her, Stanley appears, at least outwardly, completely unaffected by witnessing this moment of vulnerability from Stephanie. Instead, he cants his head to the side slightly, pops another bit of licorice into his mouth, and considers her for a long moment.]
Yeah, you would. I don't think you will. Not over nothing. And that's kinda all I ever do, so I guess we'll be fine. But if you needed to, you would. Right?
[It's in that same eerily casual tone that he usually uses, even when discussing violent and horrible things. Some sort of emotional wall, slapped up every time things seem like they might become dicey. An analytical approach, sharp and aware in ways that he generally isn't, as a rule. Problem solving mode. Remove yourself from the situation, examine, and move forward, whatever that takes. Almost like a separate facet of his personality, something most likely developed as a defense mechanism.
Peace pushes her car up his arm, making the fine blond hairs there stand on end, but provoking no reaction more than a curious glance and an absent head pat from him. He's still focused on Stephanie.]
But I don't believe in vampires, or werewolves, or aliens, or any of this shit, anyway. Shows what I know.
[It's a smart answer, more observant than she'd given him credit for, and it reminds her of the promise Jesse got from her, that she'd stop him if he ever hurt anyone.
And she would. She'd hate herself for it, but she would.]
No, you're right. [She sounds tired; violence is too easy for her.] But I know I won't need to.
[It isn't a threat, just another observation in turn for his own. She can't picture Stanley doing anything that would require her to step in, unlike Jesse.]
[The markers come out now, and a faint frown forms on his face, all the way from the jawbone to the eyes. He's tired. Exhausted. Used up and abused even before the war, with none of the steel it takes to handle violence on this scale. Still too soft in the middle. But the set in his jaw is hard. It's a clench. His teeth are probably suffering from the grinding they've been getting lately. What's left of his teeth, anyway. He glares at the table for a moment, and pulls out the markers, even though they're for Peace.
The butcher paper becomes a sketching sheet, and a little animal takes shape. A squirrel, with empty eyes and full body armor. Some zombie knight, anthropomorphic style. Beside him, a beautiful girl starts to take shape. An angel, wielding a knife, smoking something out of an apple. He sighs.]
At least you can, if you need to. It sucks, but...but somebody should. Sucks to be you.
[She's already going to hell, right? That's what Saul said. She might as well take on whatever this role is, as well, to save getting blood on anyone else's hands.]
[Just this once, he meets her eyes. It's probably the first time ever. He'd certainly never seen how bright they were until just now. She has such pretty eyes, for a moment he's confused. He gets lost in them. Sinks in deep, and loses his train of thought.
He has to shake it off physically, like a dog after a bath. This time, he makes sure not to look at her again.]
I mean, no. I don't think...it's not me. That you'd have to....I didn't even get a power. You know? I'm nothing.
[That throws her off for a moment, unsure about what just happened there, but she recovers quicker than he does, focusing on what he said.
She wonders about the correction; if he really means it, or if he just doesn't want her to worry.]
People don't need a power to be a threat. [Not that she thinks he is, but still.] But I hope you're right, Stanley. Don't let this place turn you into something you're not.
[Like it has to her.
Or maybe she always had this inside her, and she just needed something to bring it out.]
[Conversationally, he says this. Casually. She's supposed to laugh. He can't laugh right now. His hands are still shaking. There are still dead things and broken angels floating around in his head. But it's supposed to lighten this awful shadow they've been cast in, breathless and miserable. He's breathless and miserable, anyway. Isn't she?]
I just want things to be okay. You know? So if I ever say anything else, it's not me. You can do what you have to,
[It's an ugly thing to say. A dead bird, laid at her feet like a morbid gift. But someone has to know. Because he's already seen way too much shit here, and he can't even pretend to believe that it will ever be alright. Someone has to fix it if it isn't. He might not trust Stephanie completely yet, but he trusts her with that. If someone has to rip out his throat someday, let it be her.]
It's not funny, and it only makes her feel guilty for thinking it, how implying it in how she's treated him almost every time they've talked. But she doesn't know what to say, if he'd want an apology for that, or if she could even manage one.
She's never been very good at apologies.]
I know. [It's all she wants, too. At first she just wanted it for herself, for her mother, but now she wants to make sure no one has to fight any wars, that no children grow up like she did.] But I will.
[She wonders if this is what Bruce felt like, when Superman gave him kryptonite.
Except Clark is a grown man, and Stanley is still a kid.]
[He tries to take a breath, but he can't. It goes in thin and rushes out loudly, like a leaky tire. It's painful. Everything is painful these days, even something as simple as breathing. He glances up at her again, lost, but fighting. Fighting with all he's worth, pathetic as it may be. Useless as he knows he is.]
I'll try.
[He'll give it everything he has and more, in fact. He's no match for her, not even close. But it's important, And if she ever needs him, even for that...then all he can do is his best. That's what he has to give. It's all he has to give. But he will. His dull blue eyes, exhausted and empty, broke no argument. He'll try, Steph. With everything that's left in him, he'll try.]
[She drops her gaze back to Peace, because she feels as though she should give Stanley some privacy for... whatever this is, the painful drag of breath, the way he talks about himself. It's too familiar, and she thinks about herself, if her father's violence hadn't made her hard, before the rest of the world could wear her down.
She rubs her hand along Peace's back, getting her attention, and Steph's tone is gentle, light, but she means every word. And for all that she's smiling for Peace, there's something fragile and sad in the expression.]
Hey, sweetheart, you and Stanley have to take care of each other, okay? Do you think you can do that for him?
[She knows Peace won't really understand her, but the words are for Stanely, not the little girl.]
[When she says Stanley, Peace reaches for him instinctively and curls herself into his side. Usually when people say Stanley's name, something bad happens.
Stanley himself doesn't react, aside from wrapping an arm around Peace. He's too busy staring at the wall, trying to decide on a scale of one to ten how likely it is that he's just actually lost his goddamn mind, and isn't on the moon at all. It's resting at a low seven right now, not in favor.]
[She's quick to reply, but she's also drawing back a little, getting ready to leave because she's not sure if she can keep having this conversation without losing her composure.]
That isn't what I meant.
[By what she said, she was just--
She doesn't know what she was doing, and maybe it was stupid, anyway.]
[Does she know? People don't seem to. He's heard so much shit about it that it's reflex to assume.
But Stephanie is uncomfortable now. And it makes him uncomfortable. When there's a woman in the room, he's not alright with holding any power cards. It makes him think of his family. It makes his stomach churn. He doesn't want her to agree with him, and he certainly doesn't want her to apologize.
He doesn't know what he wants, but whatever it is, it's not on the moon anyway. He drops his face into his hands for a moment, dizzy from all the conversational whiplash.]
Sorry, I...can I have a minute? Can you watch her?
[She's worried, but she nods without hesitation, because if nothing else, she owes him some kindness.]
Of course, take your time.
[She turns so she's sideways in her seat, facing Peace properly and drawing her attention to the markers, planning to show her how to draw on the paper to keep her distracted so that Stanley can leave without too much of a fuss.]
[He isn't sure where he wants to go, but he gets up anyway. He just needs a moment where no one tiny is clinging to him and looking for answers he doesn't have. Because he isn't neglecting her, but he doesn't know how to parent her either. He's not her parent, and he's not a good substitute. He shouldn't have brought her. He thought he'd been saving her, but he hasn't. It was just cruel. He'd known as soon as the bomb went off that he'd gotten it wrong, but by then it was too late. And now he's all she has, and he doesn't know how to be that to someone.
So he jumps up from the table, quickly enough to upset Peace as Stephanie had predicted. But he can't decide what to do next. He starts for the door, then stops, guilty and confused. Peace is crying again. He keeps making her cry. He keeps scaring her by...by what? Making her feel abandoned? Making her realize that she is alone?
It sits on his chest like a rock. He's panicking now, and he knows it. And he really, really can't do that. If he lets himself start that he might never be able to snap out of it. It's not fair to Peace, and it's not fair to Stephanie. And you know what? This isn't fair to him either, damn it. This is bullshit, and it's unfair. Nobody's getting anything good out of this. No one at all.
He kicks a trashcan, and yanks at his hair, and then he squeezes his eyes closed and takes deep breaths. In, out. In, out. Slowly. He can't just throw a tantrum. He's got responsibilities now. He opens his eyes again, starts back to the table to apologize to the girls, then stops again. His insides give a sudden heave and he doubles over the trash bin, giving up the finger paint sandwiches.
That's better, actually. The shaking eases off, the heavy feeling in his middle lets up, the panic dulls to a mild discomfort. And the rush of endorphins eases the embarrassment the situation causes. Maybe he was just sick, and he didn't notice it because there just wasn't time to pay attention to himself lately? Either way, it's a relief. He instantly feels so much better, that even as he spits to clear his mouth, he offers Stephanie a queasy smile.]
Thanks. Sorry. I uh, I meant to get out of the room for that.
[And he did, he realizes. Even if he hadn't been able to identify until it was too late why it was that he wanted to leave the room. But he's okay now, mostly. And Peace isn't crying. Sometimes she eats too fast, too, so she just scoots out of her seat and reaches up to pat Stanley's leg, the way he pats her back for her when she's ill. The gesture is kind of sweet, he decides. She's a good kid. And she deserves to be alive, no matter what anyone else says.]
[At first, she doesn't look at Stanley, bceause she's focused entirely on Peace, trying to reassure her with gentle words and a hand on her back. She's about to pull the girl into her lap when the kick to the trashcan distracts them both, drawing their attention to Stan.
Steph frowns, worried, but she's still trying to calm Peace down, since they're starting to draw looks from the rest of the cafeteria. But then there's the sound of retching and Peace is getting out of her seat to walk over to Stanley.]
It's fine.
[She gets up as well, moving to grab a mug, fill it with water, and bring it back for Stanley.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lazyinlove) wrote2013-06-05 11:55 pm
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[Unashamedly, despite the comment about having an embarrassing amount.
Steph fishes the bags of candy out of the box and slides them over to the table to Stan, since they're his, and then she's going to clear a space so she can start showing Peace how to use some of the toys. She's not too surprised the girl isn't familiar with them, considering she hadn't seen too much in the way of toys back in Exsilium; it's why she got fairly generic things instead of getting fancy.]
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Peace watches Stephanie playing with the toys, but she doesn't try to join in just yet.]
That...should be cool. I think she'll like it.
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[She holds out one of the toy cars to Peace; she isn't expecting the girl to have seen many of them, considering there were only ever a few around Exsilium, but she's hoping that pushing things on wheels around on a flat surface is fun for little kids regardless of whether they know context.]
Yeah, maybe I can set up the VR room to work like a projector, so she can watch things on a bigger screen. I think I still have Land Before Time, too.
[She misses Ellie.]
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[Peace takes the car, not sure what it is yet, but understanding she's supposed to hold it for some reason. She watches to see what Stephanie does.]
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[Land Before Time is the best movie.
Luckily there are two cars, so Steph is pushing one around the table, using the Duplo and Peace's plate of food as obstructions to "drive" around, just to make things a little more interesting.]
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[Peace watches a little longer, then, tentatively gives her car a push too. The wheels are facing the wrong way, but it's a start, right?]
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[Facing the wrong way is more than acceptable; Steph's totally going to make some car noises to go along with this little game, before looking back at Stan.]
It's about dinosaurs, it's cute.
[Guess who identified way too hard with Cera.]
Ellie managed to track it down a few months ago, so I've still got the file.
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Wait, what's in this?
[In retrospect, just eating candy from someone who usually hates you with blind trust is probably not that great of an idea.]
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I wouldn't hurt you, Stanley. Or Peace. [Her gaze drops, and she reaches out to brush her fingers against Peace's arm, smiling at her when she looks up.] You don't have to forgive me for what I did, but I hope you can believe that.
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Yeah, you would. I don't think you will. Not over nothing. And that's kinda all I ever do, so I guess we'll be fine. But if you needed to, you would. Right?
[It's in that same eerily casual tone that he usually uses, even when discussing violent and horrible things. Some sort of emotional wall, slapped up every time things seem like they might become dicey. An analytical approach, sharp and aware in ways that he generally isn't, as a rule. Problem solving mode. Remove yourself from the situation, examine, and move forward, whatever that takes. Almost like a separate facet of his personality, something most likely developed as a defense mechanism.
Peace pushes her car up his arm, making the fine blond hairs there stand on end, but provoking no reaction more than a curious glance and an absent head pat from him. He's still focused on Stephanie.]
But I don't believe in vampires, or werewolves, or aliens, or any of this shit, anyway. Shows what I know.
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And she would. She'd hate herself for it, but she would.]
No, you're right. [She sounds tired; violence is too easy for her.] But I know I won't need to.
[It isn't a threat, just another observation in turn for his own. She can't picture Stanley doing anything that would require her to step in, unlike Jesse.]
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[The markers come out now, and a faint frown forms on his face, all the way from the jawbone to the eyes. He's tired. Exhausted. Used up and abused even before the war, with none of the steel it takes to handle violence on this scale. Still too soft in the middle. But the set in his jaw is hard. It's a clench. His teeth are probably suffering from the grinding they've been getting lately. What's left of his teeth, anyway. He glares at the table for a moment, and pulls out the markers, even though they're for Peace.
The butcher paper becomes a sketching sheet, and a little animal takes shape. A squirrel, with empty eyes and full body armor. Some zombie knight, anthropomorphic style. Beside him, a beautiful girl starts to take shape. An angel, wielding a knife, smoking something out of an apple. He sighs.]
At least you can, if you need to. It sucks, but...but somebody should. Sucks to be you.
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[She's already going to hell, right? That's what Saul said. She might as well take on whatever this role is, as well, to save getting blood on anyone else's hands.]
Do you think I'd ever need to?
[With him, she means.]
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[Just this once, he meets her eyes. It's probably the first time ever. He'd certainly never seen how bright they were until just now. She has such pretty eyes, for a moment he's confused. He gets lost in them. Sinks in deep, and loses his train of thought.
He has to shake it off physically, like a dog after a bath. This time, he makes sure not to look at her again.]
I mean, no. I don't think...it's not me. That you'd have to....I didn't even get a power. You know? I'm nothing.
...Like that. I'm nothing like that.
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She wonders about the correction; if he really means it, or if he just doesn't want her to worry.]
People don't need a power to be a threat. [Not that she thinks he is, but still.] But I hope you're right, Stanley. Don't let this place turn you into something you're not.
[Like it has to her.
Or maybe she always had this inside her, and she just needed something to bring it out.]
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[Conversationally, he says this. Casually. She's supposed to laugh. He can't laugh right now. His hands are still shaking. There are still dead things and broken angels floating around in his head. But it's supposed to lighten this awful shadow they've been cast in, breathless and miserable. He's breathless and miserable, anyway. Isn't she?]
I just want things to be okay. You know? So if I ever say anything else, it's not me. You can do what you have to,
[It's an ugly thing to say. A dead bird, laid at her feet like a morbid gift. But someone has to know. Because he's already seen way too much shit here, and he can't even pretend to believe that it will ever be alright. Someone has to fix it if it isn't. He might not trust Stephanie completely yet, but he trusts her with that. If someone has to rip out his throat someday, let it be her.]
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It's not funny, and it only makes her feel guilty for thinking it, how implying it in how she's treated him almost every time they've talked. But she doesn't know what to say, if he'd want an apology for that, or if she could even manage one.
She's never been very good at apologies.]
I know. [It's all she wants, too. At first she just wanted it for herself, for her mother, but now she wants to make sure no one has to fight any wars, that no children grow up like she did.] But I will.
[She wonders if this is what Bruce felt like, when Superman gave him kryptonite.
Except Clark is a grown man, and Stanley is still a kid.]
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I'll try.
[He'll give it everything he has and more, in fact. He's no match for her, not even close. But it's important, And if she ever needs him, even for that...then all he can do is his best. That's what he has to give. It's all he has to give. But he will. His dull blue eyes, exhausted and empty, broke no argument. He'll try, Steph. With everything that's left in him, he'll try.]
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She rubs her hand along Peace's back, getting her attention, and Steph's tone is gentle, light, but she means every word. And for all that she's smiling for Peace, there's something fragile and sad in the expression.]
Hey, sweetheart, you and Stanley have to take care of each other, okay? Do you think you can do that for him?
[She knows Peace won't really understand her, but the words are for Stanely, not the little girl.]
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Stanley himself doesn't react, aside from wrapping an arm around Peace. He's too busy staring at the wall, trying to decide on a scale of one to ten how likely it is that he's just actually lost his goddamn mind, and isn't on the moon at all. It's resting at a low seven right now, not in favor.]
I'm not neglecting her.
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[She's quick to reply, but she's also drawing back a little, getting ready to leave because she's not sure if she can keep having this conversation without losing her composure.]
That isn't what I meant.
[By what she said, she was just--
She doesn't know what she was doing, and maybe it was stupid, anyway.]
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But Stephanie is uncomfortable now. And it makes him uncomfortable. When there's a woman in the room, he's not alright with holding any power cards. It makes him think of his family. It makes his stomach churn. He doesn't want her to agree with him, and he certainly doesn't want her to apologize.
He doesn't know what he wants, but whatever it is, it's not on the moon anyway. He drops his face into his hands for a moment, dizzy from all the conversational whiplash.]
Sorry, I...can I have a minute? Can you watch her?
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Of course, take your time.
[She turns so she's sideways in her seat, facing Peace properly and drawing her attention to the markers, planning to show her how to draw on the paper to keep her distracted so that Stanley can leave without too much of a fuss.]
tl:dr and so much worse sorry ma'am
So he jumps up from the table, quickly enough to upset Peace as Stephanie had predicted. But he can't decide what to do next. He starts for the door, then stops, guilty and confused. Peace is crying again. He keeps making her cry. He keeps scaring her by...by what? Making her feel abandoned? Making her realize that she is alone?
It sits on his chest like a rock. He's panicking now, and he knows it. And he really, really can't do that. If he lets himself start that he might never be able to snap out of it. It's not fair to Peace, and it's not fair to Stephanie. And you know what? This isn't fair to him either, damn it. This is bullshit, and it's unfair. Nobody's getting anything good out of this. No one at all.
He kicks a trashcan, and yanks at his hair, and then he squeezes his eyes closed and takes deep breaths. In, out. In, out. Slowly. He can't just throw a tantrum. He's got responsibilities now. He opens his eyes again, starts back to the table to apologize to the girls, then stops again. His insides give a sudden heave and he doubles over the trash bin, giving up the finger paint sandwiches.
That's better, actually. The shaking eases off, the heavy feeling in his middle lets up, the panic dulls to a mild discomfort. And the rush of endorphins eases the embarrassment the situation causes. Maybe he was just sick, and he didn't notice it because there just wasn't time to pay attention to himself lately? Either way, it's a relief. He instantly feels so much better, that even as he spits to clear his mouth, he offers Stephanie a queasy smile.]
Thanks. Sorry. I uh, I meant to get out of the room for that.
[And he did, he realizes. Even if he hadn't been able to identify until it was too late why it was that he wanted to leave the room. But he's okay now, mostly. And Peace isn't crying. Sometimes she eats too fast, too, so she just scoots out of her seat and reaches up to pat Stanley's leg, the way he pats her back for her when she's ill. The gesture is kind of sweet, he decides. She's a good kid. And she deserves to be alive, no matter what anyone else says.]
lmao it's okay
Steph frowns, worried, but she's still trying to calm Peace down, since they're starting to draw looks from the rest of the cafeteria. But then there's the sound of retching and Peace is getting out of her seat to walk over to Stanley.]
It's fine.
[She gets up as well, moving to grab a mug, fill it with water, and bring it back for Stanley.]
You okay?
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