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Who: South

i_got_this and YOU!
What: Drinkin' and Emoin'
When: Any evening in the past few days
Where: Death Match
Rating: PG-13, S for South

Carolina's disappearance had hit South in a way she hadn't expected. It wasn't the cutting hurt that losing Haymitch had been, or the continuous loss she'd had to deal with between the time she'd shown up in the first place and North's recent appearance. It was, however, still something she markedly felt and was aware of with it's own amounts of pain.

Carolina had been the one to keep her going, she had to admit. She'd been the one to force South to face her own demons, to deal with the news of the future and learn to exist day by day on her own, when she hadn't felt it possible.

She wondered how she would have felt about Carolina's leaving if North hadn't already been here.

South takes her musings to the bar, when they weigh her down. She's not getting blackout-drunk, as she has in the past with such things, and she's as open to company as she ever is, if a bit more reserved.

She honestly didn't think she'd ever miss Carolina the way she does now.

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"The nightmares. In the nightmares." She slumps against the wall, reaching up to rub tiredly at her eyes. "I couldn't find my name on the board, and Carolina became this big frightening thing and tried to attack me so I hit her back but I wasn't in armor and then I punched the wall and my hand broke or some shit and then the floor ate me."

This somehow all makes sense.

Well, shit.

He hasn't known what her dreams and nightmares looked like since they were kids, since they used to confide in each other all the time. But that's just cruel.

"When did that happen?"

"A while ago. A month? Who knows. Three days of nightmares, everyone's nightmares. Got to see Haymitch's world." She reaches out to grip his arm, partially for balance but partially for reassurance. "Got to see you die, a lot. It was always my fault."

She figure's this is as close to admitting anything as she can get.

That's a sobering thought, South not being able to save him. But he's always been bigger, stronger, just a little bit more capable. Hell, he'd been rightly accused of holding back just to stay at her pace. They have their own strengths, though, and they work so well together that the mere idea gives him pause.

"It was a nightmare, albeit it sounds like a bad one. Terrible one. But that won't happen. I've got your back, and we're not being hunted here."

"Not yet. Always something, though. The cat. The cat was terrifying." She presses her face into his shoulder and sighs, shuddering a little at the memories.

"You got hunted down by a cat?" Good lord, this place. One arm goes around her, simply to steady her. How much had she had to drink before he got there?

But he tells himself that he won't let anything happen to her, that he'd give up his life for her, take the bullet, whatever he had to do.

"It stole body parts." She's had enough to drink that when the elevator stops she wavers a bit with the motion, then pushes doggedly into the hallway. She's nowhere near the condition she was when North first arrived, but everything she's had is starting to catch up to her.

Body parts.

"Okay, then." Not much to say other than that. The minute she sways, he's got her arm in his hand, slinging it over his shoulders loosely, silently advising her to lean on him.

"A lot of things have happened. I think a lot of it you don't know about, and I don't know what you want to know, either. But regardless, I'm not going to stand here and watch you drink yourself to death."

She leans into him, just like old times, but makes a face at his advising. "I'll drink what I want to drink. Kind had to find some way of dealing with shit when you weren't here."

She's still using it as a dig, even though soberly she knows better. She didn't know anymore how else to channel the anger and hurt.

"I wasn't here. You know better than to try to guilt trip me. It won't work. I'm trying to do what I can now."

She'll have to find another way. He isn't--never has, never will--buying into her bullshit, no matter its source.

"You're trained to survive anything. Don't tell me the bottom of a goddamn bottle is better."

"Maybe it was." She all but screams it and tries to push off from him, emotions made extreme by the application of alcohol and the guilt that continued to eat away from her.

"Because every other day back there I had you but you weren't here. There's nothing to fight on a daily fucking basis and there's ... there's just nothing. There was getting into trouble and getting yelled at by Boss and getting shot at by Wash and ignored by York and nothing. Yeah, bottom of a bottle was better because then I didn't have to think about all this bullshit."

"It's not my fault. But it's my job to help you. It's always been my responsibility, and I'm glad. And I'm here now. You've got me, if you've got nothing else, and whatever this place does or doesn't throw at us, we'll make it. Stop yelling, listen to yourself."

He shakes his head. There's something else going on.

"I don't know what you did, or why they were treating you like that, but you're part of the team. They've all told me as much. You've got people here who care about you. You're not alone and you've got no excuses. If you want to take it out on something, don't take it out on yourself."

She presses the heel of her hands to her eyes and takes a breath, letting it out with a growl of aggravation. What she'd listed had only been half the problem, and if anything her drinking has gotten worse since he arrived.

She drops her arms to cross them across her chest. "Yeah well then what should I take it out on?"

"Other things. I know there's no board here, but give yourself some goals. Sounds like telling you to relax would be a losing battle, so..." He thinks for a moment, making sure that the next time he speaks it won't be in the same raised tone.

"So take it out on me. It's me you're upset with."

She glares at him. She didn't want to take it out on him, but in her frustration she was, and all that did was anger her further. She hefts a sigh and sags back against the wall, some of her energy spent.

"It's the goddamn castle I'm upset with."

"Then take it out on the castle. You're letting them win, South. That's not like you."

Backing off a few steps, he crosses his arms over his chest. What can he do? He's not her boss, he's not their parents, and he's certainly not in any real position to tell her what to do. But when something's this wrong, he has to fix it. He has to.

Edited 2013-02-08 00:55 (UTC)

"Yeah, well, in ten months you'll see how fruitless that is. Castle always gets its way."

She looks down and kicks back against the wall. "Beat it up all you want, it fixes itself."

"Maybe it's pointless, South, but how much pointlessness have we been through in our lives? Come on." North shakes his head. "I don't care how long I'm here. I'm not giving up. I'm not going to sit on my ass and wait for things to happen."

South takes a deep breath and lets it out in a heavy sigh, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

"Is anything in our lives ever going to mean anything?"

That's a valid point. A very valid one. Hadn't they set out to win the war, to make everything better? And look where it got them. Deceived. Used. Running from a monster.

"I can't answer that, and you know it." Because unlike the others, it wouldn't do him an ounce of good to try to be pointlessly optimistic with her.

"So why should it matter if I drink or not?" She looks up at him, inquiring, in brutal drunken honesty. Why does anything matter?

Normally, she's not this bad, not even drunk, but today is just a bad mixture of all the worst things and she just feels used. Entirely and utterly spent and tired of life, of fighting and never getting anywhere.

He's very quiet as he scrambles to think of an answer. She has a point, though it's one he doesn't want to accede to. He'd rather walk away from this and not answer... but it's impossible. He needs to get this out of his system.

"We didn't fight to be relevant just to give up. I didn't. You've never wanted to be less than your own best potential, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you fall apart. You're my sister. You've been there all along. I'm not letting you go by the wayside or tear yourself up if I can help it. I've got your back. How many times am I going to say that?"

North takes a deep breath, stepping back until he's in contact with the opposing wall. "Do what you want, South. Don't let me force you. But think about it, at least."

She doesn't reply, looking down at her hands, but there's a small part of her that was hoping for a reply like this, a reaffirmation that he was here for her.

She may have learned slightly better team dynamics since she'd arrived, but nothing was quite like having family at your back.

Yeah, fine, I'll think about it." And while it's mostly her patented South snark, there's an underlying affection that slips in when she finally concedes North a point. God this place was hell, but as long as she could keep her lips sealed about certain facts, she had to admit it was a little brighter having him around.

He lets a silence hang between them for a full minute before he pushes off from the wall and walks over to her. Leaning down only a little, he reaches out to tousle her hair.

"I'm glad I'm here. better we're together than not."

She ducks her head a little in playful avoidance, movements still a little drunkenly exaggerated, but she looks up at him with bright eyes.

"I missed you." It's a hard admission to make, considering how much energy she's always put with trying to make a name for herself, but it's honest.

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ol_northy - 2013-02-19 21:59 (UTC) - Expand

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