paradisalost | out there beyond the wall

Entry tags:

out there beyond the wall

Who: Crowley and Faye
What: Seeing what breaks first
When: Sunday evening
Where: Room 1007
Rating: PG13?

This hanging in limbo thing was killing her. Which, was generally very true, but she clung to this fact with an especially determined strength now, as she made her way down the hall. Tugged along behind her was a little red wagon full of plants, packed neatly together so that no leaves wouldn't get pinched as they bounced along.

She couldn't keep up this uncertain tug of war anymore, so... she needed to go face the end of this particular rope. Fast-forward to reaching the end of it. That's what she told herself as she reached the door and hesitated outside of it, as if she imagined that it was going to magically open on its own.

She just focused on this one thought, this one goal, and refused to give any validity to those other, far more sneaky, ones-- the ones that she had to trick herself out of paying attention to. She wasn't here hoping for anything else but giving her plants back. She wasn't.

When she finally felt secure in this fact, she picked up her arm and knocked on the door.

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Crowley had not been having the best of returns to the castle himself. Finding both of Donna's cats curled up on his bed meant the feisty red-head had gone home, again. Someone he gave a damn about dragged from this place once more. Dragged to a horrible fate, if Ten's description was anything to go by.

When he opened the door to Faye, the smallest of smiles crossed his lips, but it was quickly replaces with a scowl, when he remembered and she and he were not on the best of terms.

"Oh, back in the castle now then, are you?"

"I'm not staying long."

For everything going on in her head, she did a good job of keeping her face even. Reaching behind her, she gave the wagon a little extra tug, bringing it to roll up next to her.

"I don't have anyone to take care of these anymore, so... thought you might want them back."

He arched a brow at the collection of plants. Confused as he was, he didn't show it in his face.

"Aren't those the ones you won from me?"

The 'back when we were first getting to know each other' was left unsaid, but it hung there between them like an oppressive cloud.

That cloud kept her eyes very carefully settled down on the plants and not on him. A little shrug went along with it.

"Yeah, well... I can't exactly carry them around with me between inn rooms."

Crowley kept his eyes on her, behind the safety of his ever-present sunglasses, his arms folded.

"So. This is the giving-things-back part of it, is it? I never pegged you for a traditionalist, Faye. I thought you'd rather keep things for yourself than give anything back."

Sometimes she could manage that cold stare back, unflinchingly sticking to whatever play at being heartless she was making. Not this time, though. Somehow managing to both face him and leave out the eye-contact part. Keeping it dismissive; encouraging it all to just roll off of her.

"I just can't take of them anymore."

"You can't take care of a lot of things anymore."

Not bothering to expand on that comment, the demon stood to one side, gesturing her to enter. It was hard, trying to rebuild those protective walls of his against someone who had already got past so many of them. He kept trying, but without much luck.

Unsurprisingly, she didn't slide past him and into the room. No, her hand propped itself on her hip indignantly, and she had the appearance of rooting herself to the spot.

"...You want to run that by me again?"

"You heard me," he responded, trying his best to keep his voice even, trying to stop anger, or worse a sign how much this really upset him creeping into the tone.

He shrugged, another attempt to make this seem like it didn't matter as much as it did.

"Why should you suddenly care about what I think, now? You've already proven enough times you don't give a toss about my opinion."

She drew in a breath and, unlike him, did her best to hang onto the anger. It would be the only thing saving her from everything underneath the shallow surface reason for coming here.

"Oh, is this more of those nasty little comments that you drop, get all huffy about, and then don't explain? Like when we were--" in therapy "--trapped?"

That did it, the anger did come now, like a knife, cold and full of precision.

"You're the one who left, Faye. You got attacked, then fucked off without a word. If I hadn't of come across you before you left for the town, would you have even told me someone got you?" a sneer. "I fucking doubt it. Regardless, you still pissed off without any explanation, while I had to deal with knowing someone was stalking about who wanted you dead."

A pause, then icily.

"So yes, I am a little huffy about it."

Like a knife, indeed. It slipped right in, past the defenses she was feigning, and stuck. Enough to change her expression a little-- shaking away some of that all-important anger.

Said carefully, "...Anything else you want to get off your chest while you're at it?"

He caught it, and his own defences slipped a little, but anger was still there, staying in the undertones. Feeding what he was saying, stopping him from losing the heart to keep this up.

"I just want to know why you've suddenly decided to cut me out of every damn thing in your life. Have you had enough of me? Am I no longer interesting enough for you? I could have protected you, and you still pushed me away. I want to know why."

"That's not it..." The same answer she'd given him before, before he'd walked away. The same feeble attempt to let him know that it wasn't like that, it wasn't anything like those other times that she'd pushed him away... but still reluctant to go any further in explaining.

She was at that same precipice that she's been pushed up to before-- the one that made her want to turn and get away.

"Considering that you never tell me anything more than that, you can't blame me for getting that impression."

His fists clenched his head dropped, the room heating, for only a moment. Then he looked back up at her eyebrows knitted in a frown.

"Last chance. Tell me what it is, or I'm going to go with my version of events, which trust me, I like a lot fucking less than anything you could tell me."

"You wouldn't understand..."

Something pleading slipped into her tone there, and she bit it back. That was a sound that she never wanted to hear in herself. Backed into a corner, and unable to find those defenses she relied on.

He caught it, but it was gone so quickly, he wasn't sure he even heard it. Instead, he kept his eyes on her, his arms still folded.

"Try me, I might surprise you."

"Why bother? Everything is already changing. It's already all going to hell."

Maybe not the best choice of words, for a couple of different reasons, but that anxious edge is getting impossible to keep away now.

Perhaps it was the reference to Hell. Perhaps it was the fact that, once again, she was pushing him away, refusing to tell him what was going on yet still claiming she wanted him around. Whatever the reason, it was like a light to a fuse. Crowley's eyes flickered red for a moment, anger fuelling his words rather than sense.

"Why bother? Because I love you, you stupid cow!"

He regretted it the second he said it. Not because the words were untrue, they weren't, but he know such an admission never went well for him. By saying such a thing out loud...well it just signed that other person's ticket home. Fuck.

...By the reaction that crossed her fact at that, he might as well have physically punched her. Absolutely dumbstruck. As if she found herself rounding a corner and suddenly stumbling into whatever faceless thing it was that she feared most.

Of all the things that she ever expected to hear him say, this was obviously not one that she was prepared for. Her expression, the breath held in her lungs, it all hovered for a moment. "--What?"

Crowley let out a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Bollocks."

Well, what was said was said. There was no taking that back. He huffed a little, looking up at the ceiling to gather himself.

"You heard me."

"--No."

It was a tone that said he was trying to push her toward some sort of trap. A nameless tension welled up in her; she inexplicably wanted to slap him.

"No... you can't do that!"

Crowley narrowed his eyes behind his sunglasses, the moment of worry gone and replaced with anger again.

"Yeah, well, I did it. Now we'll just have to live with it. Or not. I don't know what the fuck you want any more, Faye, and I'm tried of trying to guess."

Edited 2011-07-29 19:13 (UTC)

She didn't know either, and she scrambled to figure it out as she felt everything crumbling down around her. It felt as though no matter what she decided to do, the world was going to crack open and swallow her up. She wanted to run. "I can't--" But the ground silently rumbled, threatening, under her feet; if she ran, it would be to right over the edge. She wanted to stay. But the fear of those collapsing walls was terrifying. Claustrophobic.

The frustration finally came erupting out in the form of accusations. Because it was obviously his fault that she was having trouble making up her mind in the first place. "--Why do you have to be so impossible!"

He'd half expected her to be gone already. To run off to whatever hidey hole she had lined up, until the castle inevitably whisked her off like all the others. And then she said that...and he suddenly felt very indignant.

"Me? I'm not the one prancing off for fucking months on end without word!"

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