Amanda, Lorna: Thursday afternoon
Mar. 4th, 2004 03:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_daytripper posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsThis talk was never going to be pretty. Amanda and Lorna discuss What Manny Did, and why Amanda can't tell.
As Lorna had said might be the case, there was no-one in the suite she had formerly shared with Alison. Amanda hesitated briefly before going in any way, unsure of what the reception would be when Lorna actually got back, but the smell of coffee lured her in. Moira's wake-up call had been hell on her hangover, and whilst she was functioning reasonably well now (and sober - Moira had confiscated every bottle Amanda had hidden, seemingly sniffing them out of the most obscure hiding places), she was still short on sleep. The Brit was just pouring herself a mug of coffee and looking for the sugar when Lorna came in.
Lorna was carrying her own mug of coffee, both hands wrapped around it in a desperate bid for warmth. Her layered and baggy clothes couldn't disguise that she was dangerously underweight or that she was shivering fit to break. She was just coming back in from visiting Alex and the two flights of stairs left her shaky and winded, her heart pounding frantically. She accepted the feeling as necessary. The sight of Amanda raiding her cupboard made her stop in her track momentarily. Firmly, she reminded herself that she'd asked Amanda to come talk to her. "Hello, Amanda. What are you looking for?"
"Nothin'!" Amanda replied automatically, nearly jumping out of her skin at the unexpected voice. Then she realised it was Lorna and composed herself. "Um, sugar, actually. Blasphemy t' the coffee, I know, but I'm English. Tea drinker an' all that." She looked Lorna up and down and refrained from commenting on the woman's appearance. 'Fuck me, if people say I look like that, I'm must be lookin' pretty bloody bad', she thought to herself. "You said it was okay, t' come in, I mean."
"I did and it is," Lorna nodded and flicked open the cabinet with the sugar on her way to the couch and the rumpled pile of blankets there. "I have nothing against sugar. Kona has an acidity that lends itself well to added sweetness. I recommend the raw sugar actually. There is also real cream in the mini-fridge." She curled up on the couch and gathered the blankets around herself.
Amanda found the sugar and dumped several teaspoons' worth in, all the while wondering just what the fuck she was doing there. Guilt, she supposed, perhaps a chance to... To what? Get a good look at the damage she'd caused? She finished getting her coffee to a (for her) drinkable state, and paused uncertainly before taking a seat in one of the arm chairs, as far from Lorna as she could get and still hear her. A long, uncomfortable silence descended. Amanda knew one of them had to say something, but she wasn't sure what. 'Sorry for fucking up your life', didn't seem to be quite appropriate. "Um," she said at last. "I'm pretty sure why you wanted t' talk t' me, but was there somethin' in particular you wanted t' say?" She winced at the way that sounded.
Lorna took her right hand away from her mug and held it up, palm out, displaying the new scars. "What do you know about this?" To her relief, her voice didn't shake even though even the oblique reference to what had happened made her stomach twist in revolt. She clenched her jaw against the sensation, willing the nausea away.
Amanda nearly spilled coffee on herself, and set the mug down. She tucked her hands under her legs to hide their shaking. "Remy came an' got me. Said you'd been burned. I healed you," she said, her voice small. "You were... happy 'bout it all. 'Cause Man... someone made you that way." Her voice got even smaller, and she couldn't meet Lorna's eyes. "'m sorry."
Lorna dropped her hand to her lap and closed her eyes, dropping her head back against the couch cushions. Opening her eyes again, she stared at the ceiling. Her tone was dull, even despairing, "You haven't told anyone about this right? No one knows?"
"No. I was goin' to, an' then there was the potion an' everythin'. People were too busy wantin' t' tear me head off an' put it on a spike to listen t' anythin' I had t' say. An' now I can't." She swallowed the tightness in her throat.
Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead. Lorna hoped this was as good as. Then what the British girl had said sunk in. She lifted her head to look at Amanda, "Can't?"
"I... went back. Even after I saw what he did, what he could do, I went back to him, an' asked him to make me not feel." Amanda blurted the words out in a rush, as if they would stick in her throat if she let herself think about it. "I couldn't take any more an' I went back an' I'm so fucking sorry I did, but sorry doesn't mean anything any more." Her tenuous grip on herself slipped, and tears rolled down her too-thin face. "I'm fucking everyone over an' I don't know if I can stop."
Lorna's breath caught in her throat and she choked on it. The world spun crazily in her vision and she fought fresh waves of nausea. The coffee mug in her hand tumbled to the floor, it's contents soaking the blankets. Stumbling to her feet, she half-ran, half- tripped her way to the bathroom while her body tried to purge the memories along with it's nonexistent stomach contents.
'Oh Christ, what the fuck have I done?' Amanda leapt to her feet, her first instinct to go and try and help Lorna, heal her in some way. But the magic was gone, she had no power any more, and everything she did turned to shit. 'Run, you stupid twat, before you do anything worse, before someone comes!' her brain shouted at her, and her feet took her haltingly to the door. In an agony of indecision, she halted in the doorway, still hearing the horrible retching coming from the bathroom. 'Your fault.' It was enough - she turned and ran, leaving the door open behind her.
As Lorna had said might be the case, there was no-one in the suite she had formerly shared with Alison. Amanda hesitated briefly before going in any way, unsure of what the reception would be when Lorna actually got back, but the smell of coffee lured her in. Moira's wake-up call had been hell on her hangover, and whilst she was functioning reasonably well now (and sober - Moira had confiscated every bottle Amanda had hidden, seemingly sniffing them out of the most obscure hiding places), she was still short on sleep. The Brit was just pouring herself a mug of coffee and looking for the sugar when Lorna came in.
Lorna was carrying her own mug of coffee, both hands wrapped around it in a desperate bid for warmth. Her layered and baggy clothes couldn't disguise that she was dangerously underweight or that she was shivering fit to break. She was just coming back in from visiting Alex and the two flights of stairs left her shaky and winded, her heart pounding frantically. She accepted the feeling as necessary. The sight of Amanda raiding her cupboard made her stop in her track momentarily. Firmly, she reminded herself that she'd asked Amanda to come talk to her. "Hello, Amanda. What are you looking for?"
"Nothin'!" Amanda replied automatically, nearly jumping out of her skin at the unexpected voice. Then she realised it was Lorna and composed herself. "Um, sugar, actually. Blasphemy t' the coffee, I know, but I'm English. Tea drinker an' all that." She looked Lorna up and down and refrained from commenting on the woman's appearance. 'Fuck me, if people say I look like that, I'm must be lookin' pretty bloody bad', she thought to herself. "You said it was okay, t' come in, I mean."
"I did and it is," Lorna nodded and flicked open the cabinet with the sugar on her way to the couch and the rumpled pile of blankets there. "I have nothing against sugar. Kona has an acidity that lends itself well to added sweetness. I recommend the raw sugar actually. There is also real cream in the mini-fridge." She curled up on the couch and gathered the blankets around herself.
Amanda found the sugar and dumped several teaspoons' worth in, all the while wondering just what the fuck she was doing there. Guilt, she supposed, perhaps a chance to... To what? Get a good look at the damage she'd caused? She finished getting her coffee to a (for her) drinkable state, and paused uncertainly before taking a seat in one of the arm chairs, as far from Lorna as she could get and still hear her. A long, uncomfortable silence descended. Amanda knew one of them had to say something, but she wasn't sure what. 'Sorry for fucking up your life', didn't seem to be quite appropriate. "Um," she said at last. "I'm pretty sure why you wanted t' talk t' me, but was there somethin' in particular you wanted t' say?" She winced at the way that sounded.
Lorna took her right hand away from her mug and held it up, palm out, displaying the new scars. "What do you know about this?" To her relief, her voice didn't shake even though even the oblique reference to what had happened made her stomach twist in revolt. She clenched her jaw against the sensation, willing the nausea away.
Amanda nearly spilled coffee on herself, and set the mug down. She tucked her hands under her legs to hide their shaking. "Remy came an' got me. Said you'd been burned. I healed you," she said, her voice small. "You were... happy 'bout it all. 'Cause Man... someone made you that way." Her voice got even smaller, and she couldn't meet Lorna's eyes. "'m sorry."
Lorna dropped her hand to her lap and closed her eyes, dropping her head back against the couch cushions. Opening her eyes again, she stared at the ceiling. Her tone was dull, even despairing, "You haven't told anyone about this right? No one knows?"
"No. I was goin' to, an' then there was the potion an' everythin'. People were too busy wantin' t' tear me head off an' put it on a spike to listen t' anythin' I had t' say. An' now I can't." She swallowed the tightness in her throat.
Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead. Lorna hoped this was as good as. Then what the British girl had said sunk in. She lifted her head to look at Amanda, "Can't?"
"I... went back. Even after I saw what he did, what he could do, I went back to him, an' asked him to make me not feel." Amanda blurted the words out in a rush, as if they would stick in her throat if she let herself think about it. "I couldn't take any more an' I went back an' I'm so fucking sorry I did, but sorry doesn't mean anything any more." Her tenuous grip on herself slipped, and tears rolled down her too-thin face. "I'm fucking everyone over an' I don't know if I can stop."
Lorna's breath caught in her throat and she choked on it. The world spun crazily in her vision and she fought fresh waves of nausea. The coffee mug in her hand tumbled to the floor, it's contents soaking the blankets. Stumbling to her feet, she half-ran, half- tripped her way to the bathroom while her body tried to purge the memories along with it's nonexistent stomach contents.
'Oh Christ, what the fuck have I done?' Amanda leapt to her feet, her first instinct to go and try and help Lorna, heal her in some way. But the magic was gone, she had no power any more, and everything she did turned to shit. 'Run, you stupid twat, before you do anything worse, before someone comes!' her brain shouted at her, and her feet took her haltingly to the door. In an agony of indecision, she halted in the doorway, still hearing the horrible retching coming from the bathroom. 'Your fault.' It was enough - she turned and ran, leaving the door open behind her.
