Amanda, Manuel - Friday night
Sep. 2nd, 2005 10:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsIn the midst of drama... melodrama! Actually, no - Manuel drops by after his shopping trip with Dani, deciding it's time to find out just where his relationship with Amanda stands. He's probably more satisfied with where they end up than she is.
Manuel swallowed heavily and knocked on the door to Amanda's room. There was no one else present in the suite - a quick empathic sweep confirmed that for him. But she was back now, and not down in medlab, and Manuel thought that he deserved some answers. For the emails, for her attitude, and for all of it.
Amanda blinked, startled by the sound of the knock, and uncrossed her legs. She'd been meditating basically, not the Askani patterns Nathan had shown her but the old standbys Rom had taught her back when she'd first developed the addiction. Letting the charm do its work in its own time, letting herself recover, getting used to... things. Gathering her strength to help in medlab more. Making the most of the quiet, while it lasted, seeing how Marie-Ange had disappeared last night and still wasn't back. It looked like time was up, however, and she slid off the bed with a small sigh of resignation. Time to face the music - she only wondered which direction it would come from.
Opening the door, she felt a sudden rush of weariness at the sight of Manuel. So, it was him. To be expected, she supposed. But a part of her had been hoping she'd get a little more time - she still looked (and felt) terrible, even though the withdrawals themselves had stopped. Too thin, dark circles under her eyes from not enough sleep, a residual trembling in her hands... Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear to cover the last, she looked up at him expression neutral. "Hey." Her voice cracked a little on the word - she hadn't been talking much, and it was rusty. "Guess it's time for that talk."
Manuel nodded. "Yeah. I think it is." he said neutrally. She looked truly terrible, and felt worse. Still, this had to happen, and putting it off would only make it more difficult. "May I come in?" he asked with the slightest sketch of a bow.
She moved aside, holding the door open for him. "Sure." Once he'd come in, she closed it and waved at the chairs and couch in the common area of the suite. "Have a seat. You want a drink or something?" she asked, already heading for the fridge and the bottle of water there - Moira had been very firm on the issue of rehydration.
"No, thank you." he said, and then took a seat and arranged himself neatly. He waited for her to get her water and get settled before he spoke again. "When you were ... indisposed, we exchanged a few emails. Some highly distressing emails. I'd like to talk about then, if that is acceptable to you." he said.
'Indisposed'. Well, it was one way of putting it. "You mean when I was half out of my head from withdrawals," she corrected, curling her legs up underneath her on the other chair. Comfort clothes today - her oldest, most worn pair of jeans with the holes in ithe knees and a battered Ramones t-shirt that had been through the wash so often the writing was barely distinguishable. "I'm sorry for emailin' you the second time. I should have let things lie, an' I definitely shouldn't have tried to argue with you when I was in that state." Despite her words, her tone was quietly firm, not holding the usual plea for forgiveness her apologies to him contained. She was offering the apology, at least for part of the mess, but she wouldn't beg and she wouldn't go back on her decision to not let him use his powers on her. Taking a mouthful of water, she spun the cap back on the bottle, the figeting of her hands the only sign she wasn't as calm as she was trying to project. Not that she'd fool Manuel, not with the link.
Manuel quirked an eyebrow at her tone and attitude, but did not speak right away. "I have only one question. How sincere were you with what you said?" he asked her. "Because if you were, then I need to know. If you were not, then I need to know that as well. I honored your request - you asked me to not help you, and I did that."
"Which part?" she asked. "I said a lot of stuff, and some of it I meant and some of it was the habit talkin'. You'll have t' be more specific." She tried hard not to clench her teeth at the last part - it was only a particular sort of help she hadn't wanted, but he seemed unable to understand that he would have been able to do more. That she'd needed his support, not his powers. Manuel, not Empath.
Manuel could sense her disappointment, her confused resignation, and gritted his teeth at it. "Let me see. Ah. You told me to go take my pleasures with someone else. You were quite insistent upon it. I think you also told me to fuck off, but I'm willing to think that that was the addiction speaking. So - do you still want me to be a man of my word?" he asked her, getting to the core of his argument. "Is my word still worth _anything at all_ to you?"
"Ah, that part." Amanda sighed and closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. What a bloody mess. "I wasn't tellin' you t' go an' fuck someone else, least, not at first. I just... you know my thing 'bout people leavin', how much it does a number on me, how much I'm afraid of it. 'Specially people who I learn t' care about. An' it's been a bad year for it - I've lost a couple of people who were important to me, ones I counted on. When you couldn't see the point I was tryin' t' make, it felt like you weren't wantin' t' help me, you were just wantin' t' use your powers on me. It got all mixed up with the paranoia in my head an' came out as me thinkin' you wanted t' have me depend on you an' then dump me. An' I couldn't handle that again." Opening her eyes, she looked him in the face. "An' you accused me of not stickin' t' the agreement either, I seem t' remember. That was... hard, 'specially after last time you thought I was cheatin' on you. That whole thing with Angelo. Not the best memory for me t' be havin' at that point."
"I did not mean what you think I mean." he said. "All I was trying to say is that telling me to go out and violate our ... understanding ... was in and of itself a violation of your word. We have - had - have something here, Amanda. We always have. Since the day we met so long ago, we've had a connection. Link, no link, linked again, through thick and thin - beatings, addictions, brains leaking from ears, the good times, the bad times, all of it. It's always been you and me. If you want to break that, to give up what we have - had - have - then just say the word. No more games, no more lies, no more hiding behind stress or addictions or insanity or misunderstandings."
"A little too subtle for me just then, Manny," she replied with a shake of her head. Uncapping the bottle, she took another long swig, using the action to marshal her thoughts. "Did you talk t' the doctors? 'Bout why I wouldn't let you use your powers on me?" she asked, letting the issue of whether she wanted things to end or not hang for the moment. If he'd at least made the attempt to understand, maybe there was hope here.
Manuel shook his head. "You asked me to stay out of it, that you did not want my help. I honored your request." he said simply. "I thought it would be best - a gesture of trust on my part."
He hadn't read her last email, then. Or hadn't bothered to take her up on the suggestion. "I didn't want anyone usin' their powers on me t' stop the cravings," she clarified. "Not you, not Nate, not even the Prof. Not if I was t' get through without a shiny new habit on top of the old one. I never said I didn't want your help at all - there's more to us than your power an' mine, an' stuff you could've done without usin' your power." She shrugged her shoulders. Moot point - it was over and done with and she was moving on, as best she could. There was the briefest sensation of ice in her mind, and a hint of a whisper: Stay firm. Stay strong. Don't let him weaken you again.
Manuel looked at Amanda oddly - for a second there, he thought he felt... no. It couldn't be. He was tired, he must be imagining things. "And yes, you did. You were quite firm about it. You didn't want my help." he said. "I honored your request. Why are you so angry about it when all I did was _honor your request_?" he asked her. "I read emotions, not thoughts."
"I didn't want your power," she reiterated, and then stopped. What was the bloody point when he'd never see her point of view, wouldn't even try to understand? Doctor Grey would have been able to explain it to him much better than she could. "It doesn't matter," she went on. "'S done, an' arguin' about it is only gunna make me feel worse than I do already." That part was true - her temples where throbbing with the first indications of what was promising to be a jumbo-size headache. "What do you want, Manny?" she asked after a while. "From me? From us? Plain lamguage, none of the poetic stuff 'bout you an' me against the world."
"Funny, that was what I wanted. I wanted us to be like we were. You and me against the world. I want someone I can rely on, someone who loves me as much as I love her." he said plainly. "The Spanish Avenger and Anarchy Grrl. That's what I want. I want us to be what we used to be. What do -you- want, Gemile?" he said, using her formal name as he so rarely did. "Not about your addiction, or your power, or your family, or Meggan, or any of that. What do _you want_?" he asked.
"The problem with us against the world is the world tends t' hit back," she said quietly. The use of her true name was a nice touch, a small part of her observed a little sarcastically, but she locked down the feeling before it hit the link. Using her name also compelled truth, too, so she answered honestly: "I want t' be strong," she answered simply. "To not be hurt any more. By anyone, includin' meself. That was why beating the addiction was so important - people use it t' control me, an' I'm tired of it."
"Who was using your addiction to control you?" he asked. "Is that another crime you plan to lay at my feet?" he asked, and then shook his head. "Never mind. An unfair question, and I withdraw it." he added. "You want to be strong. I respect that. I want to help that process along. You didn't let me help you with your addiction - let me help you with this." he pleaded. "I ... should tell you something. Perhaps it was foolish of me - but when you told me to stand down, to back off and to not aid you, it hurt me. You were my shining example - the thing I could point to and say "Look here. This is what I can do to help people. I _helped_ her. When she needed me, I was there, and I helped her overcome her problem." And then when you took that away from me, when you rejected my offer of aid ... it hurt me." he confessed.
She answered the withdrawn question any way. "Not you," she said shortly and then took another drink of water - she was three-quarters of the way down, Moira would be pleased. Even if she was starting to feel waterlogged. And the action was useful in gathering her throughts, which were starting to stray a little with tiredness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," she said at last. "I never intended that. An' there were ways you could have helped me, not usin' your power, that would have made a hell of a lot of difference. Maybe then I wouldn't have..." She shook her head. "No, that's not your fault, an' I won't make it yours. I did what I did, an' as much as I wish none of this had happened, it did." Meeting his confused expression, she smiled a little wryly. "Sorry, head's still all over the place. Not as paranoid, but it's hard t' focus for too long. I'm sorry I hurt you, is what I should be sayin'." Her own expression turned sad. "I honestly thought I was doin' us both good by not usin' you like that."
"You thought wrong." he said, but he was smiling when he said it. "Get some rest. You look like shit." he said affectionately. "Once you're stronger we'll talk again. I'm looking forward to it." he said. He felt _much_ better about things now, very oddly reassured indeed. But something still felt off - it must be her exhaustion. She was still recovering from her bout with addiction, after all.
She poked her tongue out him. "Whoever the plonker was that thought heroin chic looked good obviously didn't know too many junkies," she replied, finishing off her water. "Give me a day or two t' catch up on food an' sleep, an' I'll be able t' take anythin' you want t' throw at me in the way of talks." There was a slightest note of defiance in her tone, a small challenge. He wouldn't find her half as easy to walk over these days.
Manuel swallowed heavily and knocked on the door to Amanda's room. There was no one else present in the suite - a quick empathic sweep confirmed that for him. But she was back now, and not down in medlab, and Manuel thought that he deserved some answers. For the emails, for her attitude, and for all of it.
Amanda blinked, startled by the sound of the knock, and uncrossed her legs. She'd been meditating basically, not the Askani patterns Nathan had shown her but the old standbys Rom had taught her back when she'd first developed the addiction. Letting the charm do its work in its own time, letting herself recover, getting used to... things. Gathering her strength to help in medlab more. Making the most of the quiet, while it lasted, seeing how Marie-Ange had disappeared last night and still wasn't back. It looked like time was up, however, and she slid off the bed with a small sigh of resignation. Time to face the music - she only wondered which direction it would come from.
Opening the door, she felt a sudden rush of weariness at the sight of Manuel. So, it was him. To be expected, she supposed. But a part of her had been hoping she'd get a little more time - she still looked (and felt) terrible, even though the withdrawals themselves had stopped. Too thin, dark circles under her eyes from not enough sleep, a residual trembling in her hands... Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear to cover the last, she looked up at him expression neutral. "Hey." Her voice cracked a little on the word - she hadn't been talking much, and it was rusty. "Guess it's time for that talk."
Manuel nodded. "Yeah. I think it is." he said neutrally. She looked truly terrible, and felt worse. Still, this had to happen, and putting it off would only make it more difficult. "May I come in?" he asked with the slightest sketch of a bow.
She moved aside, holding the door open for him. "Sure." Once he'd come in, she closed it and waved at the chairs and couch in the common area of the suite. "Have a seat. You want a drink or something?" she asked, already heading for the fridge and the bottle of water there - Moira had been very firm on the issue of rehydration.
"No, thank you." he said, and then took a seat and arranged himself neatly. He waited for her to get her water and get settled before he spoke again. "When you were ... indisposed, we exchanged a few emails. Some highly distressing emails. I'd like to talk about then, if that is acceptable to you." he said.
'Indisposed'. Well, it was one way of putting it. "You mean when I was half out of my head from withdrawals," she corrected, curling her legs up underneath her on the other chair. Comfort clothes today - her oldest, most worn pair of jeans with the holes in ithe knees and a battered Ramones t-shirt that had been through the wash so often the writing was barely distinguishable. "I'm sorry for emailin' you the second time. I should have let things lie, an' I definitely shouldn't have tried to argue with you when I was in that state." Despite her words, her tone was quietly firm, not holding the usual plea for forgiveness her apologies to him contained. She was offering the apology, at least for part of the mess, but she wouldn't beg and she wouldn't go back on her decision to not let him use his powers on her. Taking a mouthful of water, she spun the cap back on the bottle, the figeting of her hands the only sign she wasn't as calm as she was trying to project. Not that she'd fool Manuel, not with the link.
Manuel quirked an eyebrow at her tone and attitude, but did not speak right away. "I have only one question. How sincere were you with what you said?" he asked her. "Because if you were, then I need to know. If you were not, then I need to know that as well. I honored your request - you asked me to not help you, and I did that."
"Which part?" she asked. "I said a lot of stuff, and some of it I meant and some of it was the habit talkin'. You'll have t' be more specific." She tried hard not to clench her teeth at the last part - it was only a particular sort of help she hadn't wanted, but he seemed unable to understand that he would have been able to do more. That she'd needed his support, not his powers. Manuel, not Empath.
Manuel could sense her disappointment, her confused resignation, and gritted his teeth at it. "Let me see. Ah. You told me to go take my pleasures with someone else. You were quite insistent upon it. I think you also told me to fuck off, but I'm willing to think that that was the addiction speaking. So - do you still want me to be a man of my word?" he asked her, getting to the core of his argument. "Is my word still worth _anything at all_ to you?"
"Ah, that part." Amanda sighed and closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. What a bloody mess. "I wasn't tellin' you t' go an' fuck someone else, least, not at first. I just... you know my thing 'bout people leavin', how much it does a number on me, how much I'm afraid of it. 'Specially people who I learn t' care about. An' it's been a bad year for it - I've lost a couple of people who were important to me, ones I counted on. When you couldn't see the point I was tryin' t' make, it felt like you weren't wantin' t' help me, you were just wantin' t' use your powers on me. It got all mixed up with the paranoia in my head an' came out as me thinkin' you wanted t' have me depend on you an' then dump me. An' I couldn't handle that again." Opening her eyes, she looked him in the face. "An' you accused me of not stickin' t' the agreement either, I seem t' remember. That was... hard, 'specially after last time you thought I was cheatin' on you. That whole thing with Angelo. Not the best memory for me t' be havin' at that point."
"I did not mean what you think I mean." he said. "All I was trying to say is that telling me to go out and violate our ... understanding ... was in and of itself a violation of your word. We have - had - have something here, Amanda. We always have. Since the day we met so long ago, we've had a connection. Link, no link, linked again, through thick and thin - beatings, addictions, brains leaking from ears, the good times, the bad times, all of it. It's always been you and me. If you want to break that, to give up what we have - had - have - then just say the word. No more games, no more lies, no more hiding behind stress or addictions or insanity or misunderstandings."
"A little too subtle for me just then, Manny," she replied with a shake of her head. Uncapping the bottle, she took another long swig, using the action to marshal her thoughts. "Did you talk t' the doctors? 'Bout why I wouldn't let you use your powers on me?" she asked, letting the issue of whether she wanted things to end or not hang for the moment. If he'd at least made the attempt to understand, maybe there was hope here.
Manuel shook his head. "You asked me to stay out of it, that you did not want my help. I honored your request." he said simply. "I thought it would be best - a gesture of trust on my part."
He hadn't read her last email, then. Or hadn't bothered to take her up on the suggestion. "I didn't want anyone usin' their powers on me t' stop the cravings," she clarified. "Not you, not Nate, not even the Prof. Not if I was t' get through without a shiny new habit on top of the old one. I never said I didn't want your help at all - there's more to us than your power an' mine, an' stuff you could've done without usin' your power." She shrugged her shoulders. Moot point - it was over and done with and she was moving on, as best she could. There was the briefest sensation of ice in her mind, and a hint of a whisper: Stay firm. Stay strong. Don't let him weaken you again.
Manuel looked at Amanda oddly - for a second there, he thought he felt... no. It couldn't be. He was tired, he must be imagining things. "And yes, you did. You were quite firm about it. You didn't want my help." he said. "I honored your request. Why are you so angry about it when all I did was _honor your request_?" he asked her. "I read emotions, not thoughts."
"I didn't want your power," she reiterated, and then stopped. What was the bloody point when he'd never see her point of view, wouldn't even try to understand? Doctor Grey would have been able to explain it to him much better than she could. "It doesn't matter," she went on. "'S done, an' arguin' about it is only gunna make me feel worse than I do already." That part was true - her temples where throbbing with the first indications of what was promising to be a jumbo-size headache. "What do you want, Manny?" she asked after a while. "From me? From us? Plain lamguage, none of the poetic stuff 'bout you an' me against the world."
"Funny, that was what I wanted. I wanted us to be like we were. You and me against the world. I want someone I can rely on, someone who loves me as much as I love her." he said plainly. "The Spanish Avenger and Anarchy Grrl. That's what I want. I want us to be what we used to be. What do -you- want, Gemile?" he said, using her formal name as he so rarely did. "Not about your addiction, or your power, or your family, or Meggan, or any of that. What do _you want_?" he asked.
"The problem with us against the world is the world tends t' hit back," she said quietly. The use of her true name was a nice touch, a small part of her observed a little sarcastically, but she locked down the feeling before it hit the link. Using her name also compelled truth, too, so she answered honestly: "I want t' be strong," she answered simply. "To not be hurt any more. By anyone, includin' meself. That was why beating the addiction was so important - people use it t' control me, an' I'm tired of it."
"Who was using your addiction to control you?" he asked. "Is that another crime you plan to lay at my feet?" he asked, and then shook his head. "Never mind. An unfair question, and I withdraw it." he added. "You want to be strong. I respect that. I want to help that process along. You didn't let me help you with your addiction - let me help you with this." he pleaded. "I ... should tell you something. Perhaps it was foolish of me - but when you told me to stand down, to back off and to not aid you, it hurt me. You were my shining example - the thing I could point to and say "Look here. This is what I can do to help people. I _helped_ her. When she needed me, I was there, and I helped her overcome her problem." And then when you took that away from me, when you rejected my offer of aid ... it hurt me." he confessed.
She answered the withdrawn question any way. "Not you," she said shortly and then took another drink of water - she was three-quarters of the way down, Moira would be pleased. Even if she was starting to feel waterlogged. And the action was useful in gathering her throughts, which were starting to stray a little with tiredness. "I didn't mean to hurt you," she said at last. "I never intended that. An' there were ways you could have helped me, not usin' your power, that would have made a hell of a lot of difference. Maybe then I wouldn't have..." She shook her head. "No, that's not your fault, an' I won't make it yours. I did what I did, an' as much as I wish none of this had happened, it did." Meeting his confused expression, she smiled a little wryly. "Sorry, head's still all over the place. Not as paranoid, but it's hard t' focus for too long. I'm sorry I hurt you, is what I should be sayin'." Her own expression turned sad. "I honestly thought I was doin' us both good by not usin' you like that."
"You thought wrong." he said, but he was smiling when he said it. "Get some rest. You look like shit." he said affectionately. "Once you're stronger we'll talk again. I'm looking forward to it." he said. He felt _much_ better about things now, very oddly reassured indeed. But something still felt off - it must be her exhaustion. She was still recovering from her bout with addiction, after all.
She poked her tongue out him. "Whoever the plonker was that thought heroin chic looked good obviously didn't know too many junkies," she replied, finishing off her water. "Give me a day or two t' catch up on food an' sleep, an' I'll be able t' take anythin' you want t' throw at me in the way of talks." There was a slightest note of defiance in her tone, a small challenge. He wouldn't find her half as easy to walk over these days.
