A/N: So... Not quite sure about Wolf's dialogue here, and I hope the tweaks make it fit okay even if his comments are a bit... off.
“Have you ever lost the one thing you were ever a part of, the one thing that is so much a part of you that you are... nothing without it?” Recall didn’t look up from her hands. She should know the answer to that question, but she didn’t want to hunt it down in his memories. “I don’t expect forgiveness. I shouldn’t have asked. I just... needed a purpose again, and I thought I’d found it. I thought only of myself, not what it would mean for anyone else.”
“Your offer wasn’t a crime.”
“Doesn’t make the disappointment any less devastating. Haven’t you suffered enough already? Why should I torment you with a promise I can’t fulfill?”
“You didn’t promise anything more than pain, remember?”
“You can stop me. I’d like it if you did, though I don’t deserve favors.”
“No one said it worked that way.”
“Idizo. It should.” She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around her body. “I am supposed to be stronger than this. I didn’t realize how broken I was. I don’t even know why I keep talking like this. I am supposed to give you back what I got.”
“You made it sound like you didn’t get back anything.”
“Habit. That’s the lie I give Sukut all the time. I got a few pieces. It’s not much. It’s what you already knew, but... it’s yours, so you may as well have it,” she said, holding out her hand. She’d give him a few disconnected memories of learning to play, nothing that could hurt too much or disagreed too sharply with the man he was now, and hope he didn’t realize she’d been lying. She knew now that she’d processed more that the wife wouldn’t lie. She knew that Recall knew more, and it was somewhat of a surprise that she wasn’t with him—though she knew that Whisper trusted her husband’s strength and his judgment. She would let him see what he wanted, what he felt he needed.
“How much did you see?”
“It’s always too much. The memories aren’t mine, after all.” She saw his look, knew that she couldn’t leave it at what she’d already said. “I like your kids. They’re sweethearts—mostly. I admire your wife. She’s a better woman than I am. I envy you your family—and I don’t just mean the ones that live with you. And you played beautifully.”
There. Sharp intake. He was waiting for that. He might not have expected her to get something past the processing—though she supposed that he probably knew she’d gotten something, she’d never been good at hiding it—and she shouldn’t have it according to their science, but she wasn’t like them. She hadn’t been made and controlled. She was an anomaly born from trauma, imprisoned by her body, her mind lost years ago.
“You know all that?”
“I can get lifetimes in seconds, and I was looking for something specific for you, something before the processing. I got a little. It’s yours.”
“Anything about my birth family? About... About me as a brother?”
She’d been prepared to give him only memories about his music, but she could give him a few of those memories, too. “I told you—what little I got is yours.”
He watched her, and she didn’t know that he believed her, but he would have been right not to if he didn’t. She almost wanted to feel a just punishment for all she’d done, though she did not think he would hurt her. She reached for his hand, wanting this done, and she passed as much to him as she dared, unwilling to do more damage than she already had. “There. Now if you will excuse me—bizh.”
She flailed, trying to find something to grab that wasn’t him before she went down. She hadn’t accounted for how much it would take to pass memories to a man like him, and she wasn’t done processing, so going down afterward was only to be expected. Still, she cursed herself for being such an idiot even as she kind of hoped she’d pushed it too far and wouldn’t get back up this time.
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timeasmymeasure
Kingdoms and Thorn/Fracture & Recall Crossover: Trying to Give Back
Date: 2013-10-20 04:02 am (UTC)A/N: So... Not quite sure about Wolf's dialogue here, and I hope the tweaks make it fit okay even if his comments are a bit... off.
“Have you ever lost the one thing you were ever a part of, the one thing that is so much a part of you that you are... nothing without it?” Recall didn’t look up from her hands. She should know the answer to that question, but she didn’t want to hunt it down in his memories. “I don’t expect forgiveness. I shouldn’t have asked. I just... needed a purpose again, and I thought I’d found it. I thought only of myself, not what it would mean for anyone else.”
“Your offer wasn’t a crime.”
“Doesn’t make the disappointment any less devastating. Haven’t you suffered enough already? Why should I torment you with a promise I can’t fulfill?”
“You didn’t promise anything more than pain, remember?”
“You can stop me. I’d like it if you did, though I don’t deserve favors.”
“No one said it worked that way.”
“Idizo. It should.” She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around her body. “I am supposed to be stronger than this. I didn’t realize how broken I was. I don’t even know why I keep talking like this. I am supposed to give you back what I got.”
“You made it sound like you didn’t get back anything.”
“Habit. That’s the lie I give Sukut all the time. I got a few pieces. It’s not much. It’s what you already knew, but... it’s yours, so you may as well have it,” she said, holding out her hand. She’d give him a few disconnected memories of learning to play, nothing that could hurt too much or disagreed too sharply with the man he was now, and hope he didn’t realize she’d been lying. She knew now that she’d processed more that the wife wouldn’t lie. She knew that Recall knew more, and it was somewhat of a surprise that she wasn’t with him—though she knew that Whisper trusted her husband’s strength and his judgment. She would let him see what he wanted, what he felt he needed.
“How much did you see?”
“It’s always too much. The memories aren’t mine, after all.” She saw his look, knew that she couldn’t leave it at what she’d already said. “I like your kids. They’re sweethearts—mostly. I admire your wife. She’s a better woman than I am. I envy you your family—and I don’t just mean the ones that live with you. And you played beautifully.”
There. Sharp intake. He was waiting for that. He might not have expected her to get something past the processing—though she supposed that he probably knew she’d gotten something, she’d never been good at hiding it—and she shouldn’t have it according to their science, but she wasn’t like them. She hadn’t been made and controlled. She was an anomaly born from trauma, imprisoned by her body, her mind lost years ago.
“You know all that?”
“I can get lifetimes in seconds, and I was looking for something specific for you, something before the processing. I got a little. It’s yours.”
“Anything about my birth family? About... About me as a brother?”
She’d been prepared to give him only memories about his music, but she could give him a few of those memories, too. “I told you—what little I got is yours.”
He watched her, and she didn’t know that he believed her, but he would have been right not to if he didn’t. She almost wanted to feel a just punishment for all she’d done, though she did not think he would hurt her. She reached for his hand, wanting this done, and she passed as much to him as she dared, unwilling to do more damage than she already had. “There. Now if you will excuse me—bizh.”
She flailed, trying to find something to grab that wasn’t him before she went down. She hadn’t accounted for how much it would take to pass memories to a man like him, and she wasn’t done processing, so going down afterward was only to be expected. Still, she cursed herself for being such an idiot even as she kind of hoped she’d pushed it too far and wouldn’t get back up this time.