[ there is even now a tiny bit of sensation that he wants to fight that, but it's like, smaller. this angle of conversation is a lot better. blunt kind of works. it's what he's used to. ]
...But... [ mmrmrhrgh. he's gotten the idea that maybe he should not argue? (this is the correct idea) ]
Makes me feel like shit to hear it. It isn't my fault, but it isn't yours, either. And I can't - tell you things, Rondo, I can't be honest with you if it's going to be like that. Yeah? If you're going to take it all on your shoulders, I won't give it to you.
You've got to let me have some of it. You've got to let other people have some of it, because not a single person is going to be happy watching you crumble under your own insanely high self-expectations.
[ he's quiet, for a long moment, thinking - not over last thursday, but over the past few weeks, instead.
he thinks back to the week boothill was first caught, when everything first started going to hell. about chasing karlach down in the mortuary, about the way she tried to smile at him and pretend things were fine. can't we not be alright, together? he'd asked, then. because sharing your burdens is the way to lighten the load.
rondo folds his hands together in front of himself. his fingers lace together. he doesn't agree about his expectations, really - they aren't insanely high. they're the bar he's always had, set in gold standard by sazantos nearly ten years ago. but the rest... ]
... I know that... you did it. Your hands did. [ there's something deeply uncomfortable when he says it, but he pushes through it anyway, even though he wants to immediately pull it back and run the other direction, it's not your fault. but isn't that understood, at this point?
he looks like he might say something else, but swallows it back - stopping himself from walking back from that. karlach did it. her hands did it. i'll try. ]
[karlach thinks sazantos can suck eggs but that's another conversation entirely and not relevant
in this case - it makes him uncomfortable, but in turn, it eases something in her.
something horrible and guilty and stuffed down and held up, tied down, loosens. like that last day of being sick, coughing up the last bit of gunk and feeling your lungs clear. it hurts, and it feels good, and she breathes in deep. there's no blame, it's just the facts. it's just what happened. and she can get... past it, if that's out there, if it's clear.
[ for rondo, saying this just feels wrong, when it's not her fault. when really, it's not even his own weakness, it's the stupid cult's fault. it feels wrong. why accuse someone of something they didn't do? why push the weight and cruelty onto someone's shoulders when it was out of their control? it's not fair. it goes against his principles in so many ways.
(because that was the thing. with ceraphina, with sazantos. they chose to do violence. with father monaris, even, twisted by his experiments, a walking punishment of his unforgivable behavior, chose to do so. but here, hardly anyone chooses to kill. just rondo, who killed to save camille, and lucas, a whole other story. and after facing down elrica with alaune, he's not sure that he can reconcile the idea that someone who didn't have a choice is a killer. facts or otherwise. )
...but, karlach does feel better, and he can feel that. and if that's what helps, then he'll just have to learn to accept it. it helps him to help her, which comes through in his emotions. and even if he feels nauseous the literal second the phrase is out of his mouth, nails on a chalkboard kind of dissonance, he still manages a small smile at the wave of her relief, and there's a little from him, too. no self-loathing or anything this time, no guilt, so there's that. ]
...Of course.
[ if that's what she wants, then... that's what he can do. ]
[sometimes, it's just important to let the person that is hurting have it, so they can work through it, so they can move on. to have it acknowledged is important to her, to not skip ahead to the ending with a neat and easy bow, to hear you did this, so let's take that and let it breathe and not it doesn't matter, i forgive you, it was my fault anyway. it matters to her.
he isn't mad at her, and that doesn't bother her. she doesn't want him to be, not really. but it does feel worse to let him take the whole fault and decide that he's a failure of a person because of it. her guilt is bad enough, having killed him, having killed six people in the fog, she doesn't want to offer him that ammunition to beat himself up and watch that happen. that's the end of that.
she can't really articulate any of this in a way that makes sense, so instead:]
I need you to stick to that. Because we can't fix this if you're going to wrestle me for the sense of failure the whole time.
Cloud said to not have a fucking guilt-off. So. Let's not.
[ he’s just quiet as she continues, emotions jumbled up and messy, scattered and hard to parse. - and at the last bit, he just nods, his gaze dropping downwards to the ground. ]
Okay. [ okay. this is helping. this is helping her. this is what she wants to hear, so. it’s what she gets to hear. if he can finally help Karlach, then it’s enough. stick to it, she says, and he nods, a little smile on his face. ]
I understand. [ it's still - i'll try, or maybe the gerund. but there's a little contentment in those messy emotions, too, something soothed by finally being able to actually help. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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-- Karlach, no, that's - you're not hurting me.
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[there's no anger to it, though, it's just kind of sad.]
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[ confusion, this time, scattershot. ]
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I don't like that. I don't like being that.
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... I... [ ... ] Suppose I'm not easily reassured.
Is... it a bad thing to want to do better...?
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No, but it is when it's to the extent you do it. Normally, right, people don't get killed by something out of their control and go, wow, I failed.
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...But... [ mmrmrhrgh. he's gotten the idea that maybe he should not argue? (this is the correct idea) ]
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[she brings a hand up to rub at her face.]
Makes me feel like shit to hear it. It isn't my fault, but it isn't yours, either. And I can't - tell you things, Rondo, I can't be honest with you if it's going to be like that. Yeah? If you're going to take it all on your shoulders, I won't give it to you.
You've got to let me have some of it. You've got to let other people have some of it, because not a single person is going to be happy watching you crumble under your own insanely high self-expectations.
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he thinks back to the week boothill was first caught, when everything first started going to hell. about chasing karlach down in the mortuary, about the way she tried to smile at him and pretend things were fine. can't we not be alright, together? he'd asked, then. because sharing your burdens is the way to lighten the load.
rondo folds his hands together in front of himself. his fingers lace together. he doesn't agree about his expectations, really - they aren't insanely high. they're the bar he's always had, set in gold standard by sazantos nearly ten years ago. but the rest... ]
... I know that... you did it. Your hands did. [ there's something deeply uncomfortable when he says it, but he pushes through it anyway, even though he wants to immediately pull it back and run the other direction, it's not your fault. but isn't that understood, at this point?
he looks like he might say something else, but swallows it back - stopping himself from walking back from that. karlach did it. her hands did it. i'll try. ]
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in this case - it makes him uncomfortable, but in turn, it eases something in her.
something horrible and guilty and stuffed down and held up, tied down, loosens. like that last day of being sick, coughing up the last bit of gunk and feeling your lungs clear. it hurts, and it feels good, and she breathes in deep. there's no blame, it's just the facts. it's just what happened. and she can get... past it, if that's out there, if it's clear.
he tries, so. she does too.]
... Thank you.
[she says, and there's just relief.]
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(because that was the thing. with ceraphina, with sazantos. they chose to do violence. with father monaris, even, twisted by his experiments, a walking punishment of his unforgivable behavior, chose to do so. but here, hardly anyone chooses to kill. just rondo, who killed to save camille, and lucas, a whole other story. and after facing down elrica with alaune, he's not sure that he can reconcile the idea that someone who didn't have a choice is a killer. facts or otherwise. )
...but, karlach does feel better, and he can feel that. and if that's what helps, then he'll just have to learn to accept it. it helps him to help her, which comes through in his emotions. and even if he feels nauseous the literal second the phrase is out of his mouth, nails on a chalkboard kind of dissonance, he still manages a small smile at the wave of her relief, and there's a little from him, too. no self-loathing or anything this time, no guilt, so there's that. ]
...Of course.
[ if that's what she wants, then... that's what he can do. ]
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he isn't mad at her, and that doesn't bother her. she doesn't want him to be, not really. but it does feel worse to let him take the whole fault and decide that he's a failure of a person because of it. her guilt is bad enough, having killed him, having killed six people in the fog, she doesn't want to offer him that ammunition to beat himself up and watch that happen. that's the end of that.
she can't really articulate any of this in a way that makes sense, so instead:]
I need you to stick to that. Because we can't fix this if you're going to wrestle me for the sense of failure the whole time.
Cloud said to not have a fucking guilt-off. So. Let's not.
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Okay. [ okay. this is helping. this is helping her. this is what she wants to hear, so. it’s what she gets to hear. if he can finally help Karlach, then it’s enough. stick to it, she says, and he nods, a little smile on his face. ]
I understand. [ it's still - i'll try, or maybe the gerund. but there's a little contentment in those messy emotions, too, something soothed by finally being able to actually help. ]
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there's a bit of fear, still, but mostly stubborn determination. hug?]
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he's a little surprised and it reflects on his face, but he will take it - he lifts his arms and reaches out to hug her back, tightly. hug. ]