[He doesn't quite know what to do with the crying body that's now on top of him. Comfort her seems to be the first step, but when he hugs her, it's awkward. He was ripped out of his body and now he doesn't remember how to use it. He doesn't even remember how to feel right. Something important is missing here, but he wants to help her.]
[The truth is, he could do anything up to punching her and Libby wouldn't care. Even that, she'd forgive. She'd forgive anything, that's what's so dangerous.]
Can--
[Fuck, this is hard.]
Can we sleep in the same bed? Or--
[She looks at him, bleak and strained, and cups his jaw in both hands.]
I could fuck you, if you--is that what you want? I'd do it. I don't care. I just want you to be happy.
[That offer wakes up some kind of horror deep inside him. A wave of nausea washes over him and he swallows hard. And shakes his head, although with the way she's holding him, it's really more of a twitch.]
[Libby lurches forward, unspeakably relieved, and buries her face against his ribs as she shudders. Her hands move to clutch at his back as she shivers, so lost.]
So can I stay anyway? Even--I'll stay on the floor, I just--I can't be alone right now, I--
[Her throat twists.]
I killed all those people--please, please, fuck, let me stay--please, I'm so sorry.
[Libby sobs and climbs, up to wrap her legs around his waist--no intentions, as innocent as a child. She weighs so much less than she looks like she should, shaking and light as a bird as she presses against his heartbeat like it's the only sound in the world.]
I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry--
[And now she just chants it, like it'll undo anything. Like it'll make anything better.]
[Because she wants to trust, she does. She wants forgiveness. But she knows different.]
I just wanted to hurt them. Not because I had--I did it because I hated them. I hate them. They hurt you. I'm--you're the only fucking thing I care about at all.
[She untangles enough to drag him to bed, and then tangles again, sweet and sexless. Her face fits just just right against his shoulder as she drags blankets up over the two of them.]
I think--
[I could love you.]
You're the best friend. Ever. Go to sleep. I'll make everything okay.
[She kisses his cheek, soft and chaste. Hi, Jesse.]
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They fucked us. I--Jesse, fucking hells, Jesse, Jesse--
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[Shrieked, bleeding and awful.]
You think I don't know? I--fuck I know, I know, I know all of it--
It hurts so much. Every time. Every fucking time. Why--
[A sob, a laugh, both the same.]
Why does this always happen to me, huh? Why me? Is this--what I fucking deserve, huh? Do I have this coming?
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Can I see you? I really--I need to--please, please, please please please.
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[Please. That's what he wants.]
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[She'll run there, to hell with her wounds. None of that matters.]
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[Of course that's where he'd be. Why would he be anywhere else? He has nowhere he's needed.]
voice > action
[Libby is there--so fast. She's been hiding in a vent, but that doesn't matter now. What matters is clawing out and finding Jesse's room.
She pries open the door without knocking, using her lockpick, and flings herself on him blindly.
Then she just cries, for a while, hungover and aching and hurt.]
Jesse.
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...Libby.
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Can--
[Fuck, this is hard.]
Can we sleep in the same bed? Or--
[She looks at him, bleak and strained, and cups his jaw in both hands.]
I could fuck you, if you--is that what you want? I'd do it. I don't care. I just want you to be happy.
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I don't - I don't want that.
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So can I stay anyway? Even--I'll stay on the floor, I just--I can't be alone right now, I--
[Her throat twists.]
I killed all those people--please, please, fuck, let me stay--please, I'm so sorry.
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[There it is. He's finding a voice that seems to belong to him again. His arms wrap more tightly around her and he holds her there against his heart.]
It's okay. You can stay with me. It'll be okay.
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I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry--
[And now she just chants it, like it'll undo anything. Like it'll make anything better.]
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[Those aren't his own words. They're something someone else once told him.]
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[Because she wants to trust, she does. She wants forgiveness. But she knows different.]
I just wanted to hurt them. Not because I had--I did it because I hated them. I hate them. They hurt you. I'm--you're the only fucking thing I care about at all.
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I'm a murderer.
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[But she's softer, now. Lulled. She nuzzles his shoulder. Buddha, but she's tired. And it's not, in the end, a surprise.]
Can we sleep now? Please.
Me too. Even--even before. The guy who killed Larkspur. I killed him. You're not alone.
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I think--
[I could love you.]
You're the best friend. Ever. Go to sleep. I'll make everything okay.
[She kisses his cheek, soft and chaste. Hi, Jesse.]