Pete, Amanda: Tuesday afternoon.
Mar. 2nd, 2004 02:07 pmAmanda needs to find better hiding places. This time it's Pete who tracks her down, for a well overdue talk.
Pete still didn't entirely trust Shinobi, but there was no denying that
it certainly seemed like his heart was in the right place. And without
knowing it, the kid had given him and excuse to go see Amanda without
having to break his promise to Moira. Sure, he couldn't say that Moira
had told him anything, but Shinobi was a different matter. He'd have to
remember to get the kid a decent Scotch, or something as a thank you.
So he'd spent the last hour combing the place, looking for her. In the
end, he found her hiding in Madrox's treehouse wedged in a corner with
a half bottle of vodka. She didn't even look up as he hauled himself in
and took a spot in the opposite corner. He lit up, then threw the still
mostly-full pack of fags at her head - he had another in his pocket,
anyway.
"You look like shit, Amanda. Is this a private pity party, or can
anyone join in?"
"Oh fuckin' brilliant, it's you." She picked the pack up from the
floor, setting down the bottle to do so - to be honest, the booze wasn't doing
much any more except making her feel sick, and after Lee's freakish
good Samaritan act, she wasn't about to go through that with anyone else.
"Go on, say yer piece. Sooner you do, the sooner you can fuck off," she
said wearily, fumbling to get a fag out of the pack with numb fingers.
Pete frowned. "I think you've got me confused with someone else,
sunshine. On what fucking planet d'you think I'm going to turn up and
preach at you for drinking and smoking? It's your life. Fuck it up in
whatever way you want, so long as you ain't hurting anyone else."
He stretched his legs out in front of him.
"I can see why everyone hides away in this treehouse, y'know. S'quite nice up here. Peaceful."
"Glad someone sees it my way," she muttered to herself. Especially on
the hurting anyone else front. She finally got a cigarette lit, and sucked
down smoke greedily. She'd run out whilst she'd been holed up here, and
couldn't be bothered climbing down again to grab another pack from her
dwindling supply. And she was damned if she'd take any more from
Shinobi, the grassing bastard.
"'S sorta the point - findin' somewhere quiet so I won't be bothered. Place is full of busy-bodies."
She eyed Pete warily, refusing to be lulled into a false sense of
security. The man was a sneaky as they came.
"'Course, I ain't entirely convinced that you ain't hurting anyone but
you, but y'know, bollocks to them. Dose of life's harsh realities'd be good
for half the kids here. Few of the staff, too."
Pete grinned.
"Oh, speaking of shitty things, I don't think I said - nice job with the Illyana business."
"Ain't my fault if the buggers keep crawling out of the damn woodwork
t' make worried faces at me. I'm runnin' out of places t' go," she said,
relaxing just a little. It was tempting, to let it all go and spill her
guts to Pete, but it had gone beyond that now. The business with Lorna,
the deepening link with Manuel, which scared the shite out of her when she
let herself be coherent enough to think about it... she'd gone in too deep,
seen just what kind of person she was. And someone who was willing to
sell out a friend for a fix wasn't worth saving.
Then she registered what he'd said about Illyana, and she had to bite
her lip. Part of her was hurt and bitter about Cain's accusation that she'd
had something to do with the girl's kidnapping, but the half that was
driving her, the part that was getting stronger every day, said that she should expect as much, that had there'd been power in it for her, she might
well have done what Cain suggested she had.
She shrugged, struggling to keep her voice uncaring. "Was the only
decent thing t' do, or so I'm told."
"So fucking what? Most people don't do the decent thing, and the fact
that the place is full of wannabe leather fetishists doesn't mean we've
suddenly started measuring things by their looney standards. You stuck yourself in harm's way for someone you've known for a few bloody months. And you knew full well what kind of horrible it was going to be - you had more
reason than most not to. Next time someone tells you that it was just the
fucking 'decent thing', send 'em my way."
He took a long drag on his cigarette.
"As for the rest of them - what d'you expect? You look like shit, and
they like you, so of course they're going to bloody worry. And the fact
that you don't want 'em to ain't going to stop them."
"I didn't ask them t' fucking like me!" she burst out. "They can't,
I'll only fuck 'em over, same as I've done t' everyone else. I won't be able
t' help meself..." Amanda cut herself off, and looked wildly around,
searching for escape. There was none - she'd picked the worst possible place to be cornered.
Ah, shit. That's what was eating her. Pete sat in silence for a
minute, letting her words hang there.
Then he sighed.
"Ah, christ, Amanda. Maybe you will, but somehow, I don't think so -
not on purpose. You're a pain in the arse, but you're not a complete shit,
you know. I could sit here and remind you about everyone you've healed,
everyone you've cheered up 'round here, and all the shit you've done
that's impressed me, but that's not the fucking point, is it? I can't tell
you that you'll never hurt anyone you like ever again. Ain't like I've
managedit, is it?"
He flicked the fag out of the window. "You've got a few lessons to learn, but that's not unusual. Me, I think you can probably manage to learn 'em, if you give yourself the time. But that's just me."
"It's not like I want t' hurt anyone. But I can't be trusted, not so
long as I'm a j..." She stopped. Part of her wanted nothing more to finsh
that word, tell Pete what she was, what she had become. To get that help.
But then she remembered the state Lorna had been in, remembered going back
to Manuel regardless, remembered what Remy and Jubilee had said about her
not caring about what she did to people. She remembered the sound of
Marie's sobs, that night the older girl had given her sanctuary.
She'd caused that. And she hadn't stopped doing the same things over
again.
"You an' Rom were wrong, you know. 'Bout me. There's nothin' in me t'
save - Rack set me feet on the path an' I've been walkin' down it ever
since." She turned her face away so he wanted see the pain twisting it. "I'm
done tryin' to be any different."
"For someone who's so damn sure that there's nothing you can do, you
don't sound much like a complete shit to me. Because someone like that
doesn't give a fuck about who they hurt, and you're curled up here so's you
won't hurt anyone. Maybe you ain't got the hang of not fucking people up, but
it sounds to me like you wanna. Otherwise you'd have done a bunk already,
so's you wouldn't have to come back to England. So I'll hang onto the idea
that there's someone I can give a fuck about in there."
A pause.
"And for what little it's worth, if you turn into someone like Rack,
I'll kill you myself. Still haven't given up hope of finding that fuck as it
is..."
Amanda lay her cheek on her drawn-up knees, closed her eyes. She
trusted Pete, trusted him more than anyone except Romany, and he'd understand,
she knew he would. He was right about her not wanting to hurt anyone any
more, but there was another factor, the one she couldn't tell him about,
couldn't tell anyone. Manuel.
"You gave up having a choice when you went dere. Now it depends on
what he wants, alone."
The echo of Remy's words made her shiver. Some things were
unforgivable. Some things made you unredeemable.
"Please, Pete," she said quietly, her voice tired and hopeless. "Just
leave me alone."
"Yeah, alright." his tone was soft. "I'll fuck off for now. But you
ain't without people who give a fuck, and you ain't going to be. So when you
decide to give being alive another try, come find me, 'cause as fucked
up as things might get, you don't have to do it all on your own."
He started to climb out the way he'd come in.
"Oh, and there's usually leftovers of some kind in the fridge with my
name on 'em. Start eating 'em, or I'm going to start sending people to find
you with food parcels."
Pete still didn't entirely trust Shinobi, but there was no denying that
it certainly seemed like his heart was in the right place. And without
knowing it, the kid had given him and excuse to go see Amanda without
having to break his promise to Moira. Sure, he couldn't say that Moira
had told him anything, but Shinobi was a different matter. He'd have to
remember to get the kid a decent Scotch, or something as a thank you.
So he'd spent the last hour combing the place, looking for her. In the
end, he found her hiding in Madrox's treehouse wedged in a corner with
a half bottle of vodka. She didn't even look up as he hauled himself in
and took a spot in the opposite corner. He lit up, then threw the still
mostly-full pack of fags at her head - he had another in his pocket,
anyway.
"You look like shit, Amanda. Is this a private pity party, or can
anyone join in?"
"Oh fuckin' brilliant, it's you." She picked the pack up from the
floor, setting down the bottle to do so - to be honest, the booze wasn't doing
much any more except making her feel sick, and after Lee's freakish
good Samaritan act, she wasn't about to go through that with anyone else.
"Go on, say yer piece. Sooner you do, the sooner you can fuck off," she
said wearily, fumbling to get a fag out of the pack with numb fingers.
Pete frowned. "I think you've got me confused with someone else,
sunshine. On what fucking planet d'you think I'm going to turn up and
preach at you for drinking and smoking? It's your life. Fuck it up in
whatever way you want, so long as you ain't hurting anyone else."
He stretched his legs out in front of him.
"I can see why everyone hides away in this treehouse, y'know. S'quite nice up here. Peaceful."
"Glad someone sees it my way," she muttered to herself. Especially on
the hurting anyone else front. She finally got a cigarette lit, and sucked
down smoke greedily. She'd run out whilst she'd been holed up here, and
couldn't be bothered climbing down again to grab another pack from her
dwindling supply. And she was damned if she'd take any more from
Shinobi, the grassing bastard.
"'S sorta the point - findin' somewhere quiet so I won't be bothered. Place is full of busy-bodies."
She eyed Pete warily, refusing to be lulled into a false sense of
security. The man was a sneaky as they came.
"'Course, I ain't entirely convinced that you ain't hurting anyone but
you, but y'know, bollocks to them. Dose of life's harsh realities'd be good
for half the kids here. Few of the staff, too."
Pete grinned.
"Oh, speaking of shitty things, I don't think I said - nice job with the Illyana business."
"Ain't my fault if the buggers keep crawling out of the damn woodwork
t' make worried faces at me. I'm runnin' out of places t' go," she said,
relaxing just a little. It was tempting, to let it all go and spill her
guts to Pete, but it had gone beyond that now. The business with Lorna,
the deepening link with Manuel, which scared the shite out of her when she
let herself be coherent enough to think about it... she'd gone in too deep,
seen just what kind of person she was. And someone who was willing to
sell out a friend for a fix wasn't worth saving.
Then she registered what he'd said about Illyana, and she had to bite
her lip. Part of her was hurt and bitter about Cain's accusation that she'd
had something to do with the girl's kidnapping, but the half that was
driving her, the part that was getting stronger every day, said that she should expect as much, that had there'd been power in it for her, she might
well have done what Cain suggested she had.
She shrugged, struggling to keep her voice uncaring. "Was the only
decent thing t' do, or so I'm told."
"So fucking what? Most people don't do the decent thing, and the fact
that the place is full of wannabe leather fetishists doesn't mean we've
suddenly started measuring things by their looney standards. You stuck yourself in harm's way for someone you've known for a few bloody months. And you knew full well what kind of horrible it was going to be - you had more
reason than most not to. Next time someone tells you that it was just the
fucking 'decent thing', send 'em my way."
He took a long drag on his cigarette.
"As for the rest of them - what d'you expect? You look like shit, and
they like you, so of course they're going to bloody worry. And the fact
that you don't want 'em to ain't going to stop them."
"I didn't ask them t' fucking like me!" she burst out. "They can't,
I'll only fuck 'em over, same as I've done t' everyone else. I won't be able
t' help meself..." Amanda cut herself off, and looked wildly around,
searching for escape. There was none - she'd picked the worst possible place to be cornered.
Ah, shit. That's what was eating her. Pete sat in silence for a
minute, letting her words hang there.
Then he sighed.
"Ah, christ, Amanda. Maybe you will, but somehow, I don't think so -
not on purpose. You're a pain in the arse, but you're not a complete shit,
you know. I could sit here and remind you about everyone you've healed,
everyone you've cheered up 'round here, and all the shit you've done
that's impressed me, but that's not the fucking point, is it? I can't tell
you that you'll never hurt anyone you like ever again. Ain't like I've
managedit, is it?"
He flicked the fag out of the window. "You've got a few lessons to learn, but that's not unusual. Me, I think you can probably manage to learn 'em, if you give yourself the time. But that's just me."
"It's not like I want t' hurt anyone. But I can't be trusted, not so
long as I'm a j..." She stopped. Part of her wanted nothing more to finsh
that word, tell Pete what she was, what she had become. To get that help.
But then she remembered the state Lorna had been in, remembered going back
to Manuel regardless, remembered what Remy and Jubilee had said about her
not caring about what she did to people. She remembered the sound of
Marie's sobs, that night the older girl had given her sanctuary.
She'd caused that. And she hadn't stopped doing the same things over
again.
"You an' Rom were wrong, you know. 'Bout me. There's nothin' in me t'
save - Rack set me feet on the path an' I've been walkin' down it ever
since." She turned her face away so he wanted see the pain twisting it. "I'm
done tryin' to be any different."
"For someone who's so damn sure that there's nothing you can do, you
don't sound much like a complete shit to me. Because someone like that
doesn't give a fuck about who they hurt, and you're curled up here so's you
won't hurt anyone. Maybe you ain't got the hang of not fucking people up, but
it sounds to me like you wanna. Otherwise you'd have done a bunk already,
so's you wouldn't have to come back to England. So I'll hang onto the idea
that there's someone I can give a fuck about in there."
A pause.
"And for what little it's worth, if you turn into someone like Rack,
I'll kill you myself. Still haven't given up hope of finding that fuck as it
is..."
Amanda lay her cheek on her drawn-up knees, closed her eyes. She
trusted Pete, trusted him more than anyone except Romany, and he'd understand,
she knew he would. He was right about her not wanting to hurt anyone any
more, but there was another factor, the one she couldn't tell him about,
couldn't tell anyone. Manuel.
"You gave up having a choice when you went dere. Now it depends on
what he wants, alone."
The echo of Remy's words made her shiver. Some things were
unforgivable. Some things made you unredeemable.
"Please, Pete," she said quietly, her voice tired and hopeless. "Just
leave me alone."
"Yeah, alright." his tone was soft. "I'll fuck off for now. But you
ain't without people who give a fuck, and you ain't going to be. So when you
decide to give being alive another try, come find me, 'cause as fucked
up as things might get, you don't have to do it all on your own."
He started to climb out the way he'd come in.
"Oh, and there's usually leftovers of some kind in the fridge with my
name on 'em. Start eating 'em, or I'm going to start sending people to find
you with food parcels."
no subject
Date: 2004-03-04 05:09 am (UTC):)
no subject
Date: 2004-03-04 05:41 am (UTC)Oh, we HAVE to get Alex and Amanda to talk. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-03-04 05:54 am (UTC)We'll see who can win the self-loathing competition fastest.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-04 05:58 am (UTC)Hmmm...*starts plotting*
no subject
Date: 2004-03-04 12:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-04 05:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-04 06:35 am (UTC)And monkeys and butt-flying, yeah. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-03-04 06:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-05 02:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-05 04:06 am (UTC)