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chosehumanity"You've got some fucking nerve," Nina growled. Blonde, tiny Nina, who had to reach pretty far up high to kiss George-- she had Lucy by the throat up against the wall, and she did not look happy.
It was fairly understandable, if you asked Mitchell. Though he wasn't sure he could stand here through Lucy's pleading.
"Is your friend with you?" she snapped.
"She came here on her own, Nina," Mitchell said, though he didn't move from his perch on the other end of the room - on top of the dresser - to stop her.
"Nina," George said, "Nina-- let her go?"
The sound that Nina made was almost a hiss, but she did let Lucy go. Lucy slid to the floor, reaching for her neck, taking in deep breaths.
"Why are you here?" Nina asked pointedly.
"Kind of-- an odd question," Lucy panted, looking up at her, "Considering you've gone through such lengths to find me."
Nina stepped back, leaning on a chair. "Tell me about it," she snarled. "I've read your book - six hundred pages of utter bullshit!"
"Did you keep the receipt?" Lucy asked. "Because I can get your money back--"
"Is that sarcasm? Is she giving us sarcasm now? Christ, Mitchell, why haven't you just--" Nina threw her hands up.
Mitchell glanced in her direction. "What?" he asked flatly. "Killed her?"
"Yeah!"
Why hadn't he? Because he was sick of all the fucking killing, that's why. Because it had taken him all the effort in the world - and Bo's and Eric's effort - to keep from going out and murdering a large smattering of people just to get back at her. And he'd still killed a lot of them in the end. To get George and Nina back.
So no, Nina. He was not going to answer your question.
George broke the silence that had fallen. "So where's Kemp?"
"I asked her," Mitchell said. "She doesn't know."
"Right. So what does she want, then?"
Lucy stared down at her hands. "To say sorry," she said.
"Sorry?" Nina echoed. She opened her mouth to add something more to point out the utter bollocks of that answer, but Lucy beat her to it.
"To explain, then," she said. "But before I can make any reparation, I--"
Nina's head shook, both in dismissal and in... something. She was by far the most angry of them, still, but Mitchell couldn't find it in his heart to stop her from most of it. "I don't want any reparation," she snapped.
Lucy sighed. "Then what do you want, Nina?" she asked.
"I don't know," Nina said lightly. "Maybe I just want to give you--" She moved at Lucy, teeth first, "--a little nip."
"Okay, uh, this is-- getting nowhere, Nina," George said, gently reaching for her hand. Or her belly. Or... something. "Nina?"
She backed off only gingerly, taking a few short, careful steps backwards, keeping her eyes on Lucy the whole time. Only when she was far enough away, she turned around and stalked off, motioning the others into the next room and leaving Lucy to collapse against the wall.
---
"Do you... trust her?" George asked.
Mitchell would forgive him the note of incredulousness in his voice.
He sighed, and stepped away from the door. "I... believe she wants to make amends," he said.
Nina sighed, too, but hers was one of frustration. "Oh, she must have been some lay," she snarked venomously.
"It's not about that," Mitchell retorted. It was about... Not killing her? Helping her out? Helping the rest of them move on? He wasn't sure, either, but he'd been stuck in this constant sense of inertia over the past few months, and he needed-- something. "This is about--"
"What are we supposed to think?" George interjected. "Lucy's dangerous, why are you bringing her back into our lives like this?"
(Because he was Mitchell, obviously. The fuck-up.)
"Why are you coming at me about this?" Mitchell snapped back at him. He gestured at Nina. "It was Inch High Private Eye who led her here."
"I wanted to protect our friend," Nina snarled.
Mitchell stared at her. "You think I don't?" he asked. Nina made a gesture towards the closed door, and he barely avoided rolling his eyes. "She didn't kill Annie."
"It's not just about Annie!"
And suddenly, he had a short blonde in his face.
"I was in there for two months!" Nina snapped. "One time? They put me in that chamber, they persuaded me to bring the man I love in there-- to die-- like Tully died, like the others died."
If they were going to do it like this, this wasn't going anywhere. Mitchell bit down on his lip. "You're better than this, Nina."
"They started it!" Nina raged. "They set the agenda! Why is it always down to the victims to do the right thing?"
"Because there has to be a difference between us and them," George said quietly.
"There is," Nina spat, and turned away. "We're weaker." She stormed out the other door and slammed it shut behind her, leaving Mitchell and George alone.
Christ. That could have gone so much better.
Not that he could blame her. Again. This situation-- it was all so fucked up, and no amount of running away from it for the past few months had helped.
Mitchell blew out a heavy breath and leaned back against the wall.
"Thanks," he whispered.
George trained his eyes on Mitchell's. "I haven't forgiven Lucy," he said simply. "I'm just saying I don't think we should kill her." He shook his head. "Don't go thinking I'm your ally in this, Mitchell."
With that, he slipped out of the room as well, leaving Mitchell to his own mad thoughts.
They had to be mad, really, considering all that Lucy had done. But-- but he had been there, killed so many, for worse reasons than hers. He'd spent the past few years of his life trying to make up for them.
What gave him the right to turn her away when she was trying to do the same? She wasn't Kemp - she was no homicidal maniac without conscience.
Fuck.
---
He brought Lucy a pillow and his old jacket for a blanket. "Here. There's milk and bread and stuff in the fridge."
She was sitting on the sofa, looking absolutely tiny. Holding her head up in defiance against the world, as if not wanting to surrender, not even in her contrition. She took the jacket and ran her fingers over it. "There's still blood on it," she said.
Mitchell had already made it down to the door, but he stopped, now. "Oh," he said, "Now you're getting squeamish."
"Why are you doing this?" Lucy asked. "The others want me dead - Nina, certainly. And you're the one--?" She bit down on her next few words, choked out a syllable, seemed to think better of it. "Why are you doing this?"
The question everyone had been asking him all day, but now from her...
...she might understand. Out of all of them.
"I guess that if you want forgiveness," he said quietly, "You have to offer it first."
A tiny smile wrestled loose from her face, almost as if she didn't want to give it. "But I'm still stuck on the lumpy sofa," she murmured.
He smiled, too, in spite of himself. "Yeah, don't push it," he said. Stared at her, across the distance, and finally posed the question: "Why did you come here?"
Her smile became more wry. "I betrayed my lover," she said, "I betrayed my faith." She shook her head. "I don't know what I am anymore."
Mitchell looked at her for a little while longer, and then shook his head, thinking of Bo now, too. "I guess you're a monster now," he said. "Just like the rest of us."
[[ to be finished tomorrow, since it's a whole lot to write up in one day. NFB, NFI, OOC-okay, and taken and only slightly tweaked from Being Human 2x8! ]]
It was fairly understandable, if you asked Mitchell. Though he wasn't sure he could stand here through Lucy's pleading.
"Is your friend with you?" she snapped.
"She came here on her own, Nina," Mitchell said, though he didn't move from his perch on the other end of the room - on top of the dresser - to stop her.
"Nina," George said, "Nina-- let her go?"
The sound that Nina made was almost a hiss, but she did let Lucy go. Lucy slid to the floor, reaching for her neck, taking in deep breaths.
"Why are you here?" Nina asked pointedly.
"Kind of-- an odd question," Lucy panted, looking up at her, "Considering you've gone through such lengths to find me."
Nina stepped back, leaning on a chair. "Tell me about it," she snarled. "I've read your book - six hundred pages of utter bullshit!"
"Did you keep the receipt?" Lucy asked. "Because I can get your money back--"
"Is that sarcasm? Is she giving us sarcasm now? Christ, Mitchell, why haven't you just--" Nina threw her hands up.
Mitchell glanced in her direction. "What?" he asked flatly. "Killed her?"
"Yeah!"
Why hadn't he? Because he was sick of all the fucking killing, that's why. Because it had taken him all the effort in the world - and Bo's and Eric's effort - to keep from going out and murdering a large smattering of people just to get back at her. And he'd still killed a lot of them in the end. To get George and Nina back.
So no, Nina. He was not going to answer your question.
George broke the silence that had fallen. "So where's Kemp?"
"I asked her," Mitchell said. "She doesn't know."
"Right. So what does she want, then?"
Lucy stared down at her hands. "To say sorry," she said.
"Sorry?" Nina echoed. She opened her mouth to add something more to point out the utter bollocks of that answer, but Lucy beat her to it.
"To explain, then," she said. "But before I can make any reparation, I--"
Nina's head shook, both in dismissal and in... something. She was by far the most angry of them, still, but Mitchell couldn't find it in his heart to stop her from most of it. "I don't want any reparation," she snapped.
Lucy sighed. "Then what do you want, Nina?" she asked.
"I don't know," Nina said lightly. "Maybe I just want to give you--" She moved at Lucy, teeth first, "--a little nip."
"Okay, uh, this is-- getting nowhere, Nina," George said, gently reaching for her hand. Or her belly. Or... something. "Nina?"
She backed off only gingerly, taking a few short, careful steps backwards, keeping her eyes on Lucy the whole time. Only when she was far enough away, she turned around and stalked off, motioning the others into the next room and leaving Lucy to collapse against the wall.
---
"Do you... trust her?" George asked.
Mitchell would forgive him the note of incredulousness in his voice.
He sighed, and stepped away from the door. "I... believe she wants to make amends," he said.
Nina sighed, too, but hers was one of frustration. "Oh, she must have been some lay," she snarked venomously.
"It's not about that," Mitchell retorted. It was about... Not killing her? Helping her out? Helping the rest of them move on? He wasn't sure, either, but he'd been stuck in this constant sense of inertia over the past few months, and he needed-- something. "This is about--"
"What are we supposed to think?" George interjected. "Lucy's dangerous, why are you bringing her back into our lives like this?"
(Because he was Mitchell, obviously. The fuck-up.)
"Why are you coming at me about this?" Mitchell snapped back at him. He gestured at Nina. "It was Inch High Private Eye who led her here."
"I wanted to protect our friend," Nina snarled.
Mitchell stared at her. "You think I don't?" he asked. Nina made a gesture towards the closed door, and he barely avoided rolling his eyes. "She didn't kill Annie."
"It's not just about Annie!"
And suddenly, he had a short blonde in his face.
"I was in there for two months!" Nina snapped. "One time? They put me in that chamber, they persuaded me to bring the man I love in there-- to die-- like Tully died, like the others died."
If they were going to do it like this, this wasn't going anywhere. Mitchell bit down on his lip. "You're better than this, Nina."
"They started it!" Nina raged. "They set the agenda! Why is it always down to the victims to do the right thing?"
"Because there has to be a difference between us and them," George said quietly.
"There is," Nina spat, and turned away. "We're weaker." She stormed out the other door and slammed it shut behind her, leaving Mitchell and George alone.
Christ. That could have gone so much better.
Not that he could blame her. Again. This situation-- it was all so fucked up, and no amount of running away from it for the past few months had helped.
Mitchell blew out a heavy breath and leaned back against the wall.
"Thanks," he whispered.
George trained his eyes on Mitchell's. "I haven't forgiven Lucy," he said simply. "I'm just saying I don't think we should kill her." He shook his head. "Don't go thinking I'm your ally in this, Mitchell."
With that, he slipped out of the room as well, leaving Mitchell to his own mad thoughts.
They had to be mad, really, considering all that Lucy had done. But-- but he had been there, killed so many, for worse reasons than hers. He'd spent the past few years of his life trying to make up for them.
What gave him the right to turn her away when she was trying to do the same? She wasn't Kemp - she was no homicidal maniac without conscience.
Fuck.
---
He brought Lucy a pillow and his old jacket for a blanket. "Here. There's milk and bread and stuff in the fridge."
She was sitting on the sofa, looking absolutely tiny. Holding her head up in defiance against the world, as if not wanting to surrender, not even in her contrition. She took the jacket and ran her fingers over it. "There's still blood on it," she said.
Mitchell had already made it down to the door, but he stopped, now. "Oh," he said, "Now you're getting squeamish."
"Why are you doing this?" Lucy asked. "The others want me dead - Nina, certainly. And you're the one--?" She bit down on her next few words, choked out a syllable, seemed to think better of it. "Why are you doing this?"
The question everyone had been asking him all day, but now from her...
...she might understand. Out of all of them.
"I guess that if you want forgiveness," he said quietly, "You have to offer it first."
A tiny smile wrestled loose from her face, almost as if she didn't want to give it. "But I'm still stuck on the lumpy sofa," she murmured.
He smiled, too, in spite of himself. "Yeah, don't push it," he said. Stared at her, across the distance, and finally posed the question: "Why did you come here?"
Her smile became more wry. "I betrayed my lover," she said, "I betrayed my faith." She shook her head. "I don't know what I am anymore."
Mitchell looked at her for a little while longer, and then shook his head, thinking of Bo now, too. "I guess you're a monster now," he said. "Just like the rest of us."
[[ to be finished tomorrow, since it's a whole lot to write up in one day. NFB, NFI, OOC-okay, and taken and only slightly tweaked from Being Human 2x8! ]]
