faderift | (CLOSED) You wouldn't hurt them

Gela's mouth twitches into half a smile. "It's okay, it's — embarrassing for me, but I think I may owe you some truth." If only to resolve some of that strangeness that must still be lingering... If Gela can do that much they'll both be more at ease.

Or so she tells herself, to make it easier to say this. Ellie knows a tiny bit of this story but only her; she never told Jude. She would have, if they had time. "This will sound so strange," she prefaces, "and I'm sorry about that. But before now I have felt envious of you and Ellie together, because I left somebody behind in Nevarra, and I miss her. Things between us didn't end well.

"So I think that if the envy demon was just that, envious. I can see why it would have picked on you. But I promise I never felt like that before, never that strongly, and none of it is yours or Ellie's fault, I..."

Trailing off, she shrugs a shoulder. Offers a little, rueful smile. "I should have laid it to rest by now, I know. But I haven't."

Well, that makes a lot of sense.

Suddenly Clarisse is realizing how little she really knows about Gela's life before she joined Riftwatch. And while there are lots of people in the Gallows she doesn't know anything about, despite seeing them nearly every day, this feels different because she's supposed to be Gela's friend, isn't she? Shouldn't she know more? Shouldn't she have... asked more?

"It's not embarrassing," Clarisse says slowly. She wants to choose the right words. "Everybody wants things, and... I mean, you can't just turn off your feelings. Even when the feelings are bad." Especially when they're bad. Sucks that it works out like that, but it does. "It's only shitty because something took your feelings and blew them up until they were the only thing left. But that's not your fault."

A small pause, and then she asks, "You ever thought about getting back in contact with her? If you miss her, you should tell her."

"I know," she admits, and rubs her face with her hands. She pushes her hair back (it immediately spills back into place the moment she takes her hands away), teeth pressing around the inside of her cheek. If an envy demon had to get into her brain and pick something to fixate on, to display to other people, she is glad that it picked this, of all things.

But...

She sighs and puts her chin in her hand.

"I think about it all the time. There's still so much I want to tell her." They were supposed to be together for so much longer, perhaps even forever... It had felt like that when Gela was still at home and everything was fine. "But I'm the one who ruined it, I — left without saying anything to her. And I didn't write. I've never written. I can't start now."

"Sure you can. She'd probably want to hear from you." If Gela really did just up and leave without a word, and it's been this long, whoever this person is probably just wants to know that she's okay. Alive, even.

"You could at least give her an explanation, and then it would be up to her whether to write back or not. But..." wait, "why'd you leave like that, anyway? Without saying anything."

Clarisse starts chewing at her thumbnail. Awkward. She probably should've asked that first before launching into her unwarranted advice.

"I don't know..."

That's the problem, really, that Gela has entertained all sorts of scenarios across the years of no contact; she thinks she knows Pavia well enough to understand that she would want to hear that Gela is alive (if their places in the situation were reversed this is also what she would want). The thought of sitting down and actually penning something fills her with anxiety.

Over this next question, she hesitates. Only for a moment. She has never had cause to mention much of this to anybody and Clarisse is right there, warm and sympathetic, trying to understand. They are friends. "I had a terrible argument with my father and he threw me out. Of the city, I mean, he told me to leave Nevarra and not come back and I was scared, so I went straight away without looking back."

Saying nothing, to no one. She left in the dead of night.

Edited 2024-06-06 04:56 (UTC)

Clarisse is nodding, but she doesn't quite get it. If the argument was between Gela and her father, why's she so anxious over the thought of writing to someone else? And for that matter, what could Gela and her dad have been arguing about that was bad enough to get her kicked out of not just the house, but the entire city?

"Are you worried he's been telling people things about you that aren't true? To make it seem like he was justified?"

If that's the case, she can understand Gela's hesitation. Kind of hard to disappear and then try to get back in contact knowing everyone you left behind think you did something heinous.

Gela laughs but not because the question was funny.

"He's telling people that I'm dead."

She has wondered this for a long time now and that familiar solider she saw in the Silent Plains, the one who thought she was a ghost, cleared everything up. She isn't even really angry about it she just feels numb and strange. "Pavia must think that also, if she's ever asked after me."

And this was years ago. Enough time has passed that she may have grieved Gela and got over it.

Clarisse's brow furrows. "That you're dead? Why?"

Whatever, it doesn't even matter. Gela doesn't seem angry about the whole thing, but Clarisse is. Instantly, entirely, like sinking into scalding water. Why's it always dads who are fucking things up and getting away with it.

She leans forward in her chair, gesturing with one arm as she says, "Then you should write and tell her you're not! Or go back and tell her in person. You can't stay away forever just because your dad's on a power trip. That's not fair."

To either of them.

"I suppose because it's much easier to say I'm dead than explain everything," Gela mutters and then goes quiet, because she still remembers so clearly his silence and cold shoulder to her being unbearable after she returned home, the way he acted as if she were a ghost; by now he has probably gone and convinced himself she is one.

Clarisse's anger on her behalf is unexpectedly soothing. Gela twists her mouth.

"I'd like to, it — just feels so impossible to me now." She wouldn't know what to say, what to do. And what if she's gone? What if she left Cumberland? Nevarra? Her expression crumples thinking about it.

"You're right," she concedes, soft. "I won't stay away forever. I'll go back eventually. He's not the only thing keeping me away, see, I — it's me, I'm scared. Some terrible things happened there."

Clarisse doesn't see what could be so freaking complicated that telling everybody your daughter died becomes the easier option. The whole thing seems like a bunch of bullshit to her, in fact. Making Gela leave home, leave the city entirely, making everybody think she's dead—for what? What could she possibly have done that warrants that kind of reaction?

"... I could go with you," she offers. "If it would help. I would go with you."

She would twist Gela's dad's head off his shoulders, too, but she's not saying that part out loud.

That's so nice. It makes Gela's eyes go hot and blurry; she isn't shy about the tears, simply wipes them away with her fingers one at a time when they skip down her cheeks. "Thank you, Clarisse. I — think I'll try, some day. If you could come with me then, I'd be grateful."

And Jayce, he said that he would come too. Maybe, with friends on either side of her, she could be brave enough to go back. It would help.

She curls her legs up on the couch, hugs her arms around them just to make herself feel small. "I know I haven't explained everything," she acknowledges, "but it's hard to talk about. I'd like to tell you, though. It actually—" and she laughs a bit here, wiping one eye, "helps to talk about it with you? Would you mind if I tried again later?"

"I wouldn't mind," Clarisse says. "Of course you can."

She means it. She isn't good at talking about the emotional stuff, but she is getting better little by little. And even if it's still hard for her to talk about her own shit a lot of the time, she can listen to somebody else.

She gives Gela a little smile, embarrassed but genuine. "I'm glad you're okay, Gela. For a couple days I thought you might not be." And honestly, she hadn't realized how heavy it had been weighing on her until the weight was lifted. Not just the fear that Gela was dead, but the idea that the responsibility somehow fell to her.

"I know," Gela says, and that simple agreement nearly makes her tear up again. She pauses, holding her breath until the burning behind her eyes goes away again. The smile she returns to Clarisse is also small, slightly wobbly. "It was horrible. We didn't know what was going to happen to us... I'm very glad that Vanya and I got out when we did."

Otherwise...

She sighs, skimming both hands lightly across her face. "I'm sorry to send you away, but I'm going to need to rest again soon. But I'd love to have you back again, Clarisse."

Instantly, Clarisse feels like shit for saying it the way she did. Of course that'd be upsetting to hear. To think about.

Augh. She gets to her feet almost before Gela's finished speaking. "It's no problem. I'll come back in a couple days when you're feeling stronger." She hesitates, not sure if she's supposed to do anything else—hug Gela again?—and then gives her a lame little shoulder pat, not quite the kind of soft punch she'd normally offer but something similar.

"Bye."

(CLOSED) You wouldn't hurt them

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