Amanda, Manuel - Sunday evening
Mar. 28th, 2004 09:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsOn her way to visit Sarah after this thread, Amanda finds Manuel in the Student Lounge, and they talk for the first time since she left.
Manuel is sitting in the Student Lounge, dressed all in black and with his iPod blaring. He's draped in one of the overstuffed chairs, with his eyes closed and his foot tapping to the music.
Passing the room on her way down to relieve Sarah's nicotine cravings, Amanda glances in... and stops dead when she sees who is there. 'He looks like shite,' is the first thought that passes through her head, and she winces at the memory of seeing herself in the bathroom mirror the first night at Homily's. Manny's gone beyond that. She hesitates in the doorway, wanting to say something, but afraid of what the reaction might be.
Manuel, not having his eyes open or access to the projective part of his power, remains oblivious. He lifts a hand to adjust his headphones, and a silver bracelet glitters there on his wrist, with a blinking red LED on it. He is skinny - nearly as bad as he was when he first arrived at the Mansion.
It's the fact he can't sense her there that prompts her to move. Glancing around to make sure there aren't any well-meaning adults around to stop her, she crosses the space between them, until she's just out of arm's reach from his chair. "Hey," she calls, as loudly as she can, knowing he'll have the volume turned up just short of ear-shattering. She'd tap his shoulder, but she doesn't want to give him a heart attack.
Manuel looks over at who disturbed him, and smiled an honest, real smile. "Amanda! You're back!" he says with real pleasure, disentangling himself from the chair and standing up, iPod and his music forgotten in the happiness of the moment. Then his face falls as he rubs his forehead like it was bothering him.
"Ow." he says, for some reason, then looks at her again more critically. "What happened to you? Why wouldn't you answer my emails?" he asks angrily.
"You emailed me?" she asks. Then realisation hits. "That fucking block... I didn't get anythin', same as you couldn't get anythin' from me. They didn't want me talkin' t' you. I asked Shinobi t' let you know I didn't hate you... did he?"
"Yes, I emailed you. But what I want to know most of all - what happened to our link? Even in the Box, I felt it break into a thousand shards - like a doorway that opened into oblivion. That was very unpleasant. But yes, he let me know that you didn't hate me." He then stares back at her, like he's looking _through_ her, and rubs his forehead again. "Ow." he says again, wobbling a little bit in place before sinking back into the chair.
Instinctively she reaches out to steady him, but stops just short of contact. There's too much to think about, too many reactions. There's a battered footrest not so far away, and she uses the distraction of pulling it over so she can sit by the arm of Manuel's armchair to try and clear her head. "I thought it was you being in the Box that made the link break," she says slowly, thinking it through. Then she remembers his journal, what he'd said about feeling something break her second day in England. "It must have been the cleansing ritual, the one Rom did for me. It was s'posed t' purge outside forces, bring me back t' meself. It must've included the link in that." She reaches out hesitantly, touches his arm. "'M sorry. I never thought... I've been that worried 'bout you, but I couldn't do nothin'."
"So I'm an outside force now? Should I be pleased or upset by this?" he says sarcastically, still rubbing his forehead. But at the same time he leans into the touch, revelling in simple human (female!) contact. "I have to admit, I am surprised you are talking to me. I thought I was your habit, and you're supposed to be above all of that right now. All noble and pure and cured of your unnatural desires. So where does that leave Man...Empath?
"I guess what I wanted to know the most is - why? Why'd you do it? I guess I'm not good enough for you any more - sure, I held you when you needed to not feel, I was there for you when you cried and begged, but the first chance you get, you desert me? That hurt, Amanda. And now you got to go have a vacation back home, and they lock _me_ in the Box?" he says angrily, the LED on his empathic filter blinking more urgently now. "And you went to _him_ for aid. The Mexican. Thanks to him, I have had a very unpleasant past few days, and I think I owe him a little something for my pains. I don't really _enjoy_ reliving being raped, as I'm sure you know. And I can't fucking touch him."
It's that small movement on his part, the leaning into her hand on his arm, that keeps her leaving. An indication that he needs her, as she used to need him. She owes him the attempt, at least. "I didn't desert you, Manny," she says as calmly as she can. "I was made t' go - I always was goin' back, remember? That was me punishment for the potion, t' go back and have trainin'. It weren't no holiday neither - I've been working me bloody arse off, so I could get back here." Without realising, she's stroking his arm gently, trying to calm him. "An' I'm still the same person I was, just without all that addiction shite - me head's on straight now, is all. I didn't know that the ritual would break the link - fuck, I barely knew me own bloody name with the drugs they was givin' me before I flew out. But I'm back now, an' I want t' help you, since you helped me. It weren't yer fault things went bad. It was me - I couldn't handle the bad feelin's any more, an' I couldn't keep askin' you t' take 'em away. Weren't fair on you, usin' you like that."
Manuel stares into Amanda's eyes, then crumples into her for a much-needed hug. "They used me, Amanda," he blubbers into her shoulder. "They used me, and made me love it, and it was the only thing I was allowed to feel. And the Mexican brought it all back to me, threw it back into my face," he sobs. "And it was so hard to think, and I couldn't feel, and I just got so depressed, and you weren't there, and nobody was there, and I couldn't leave..."
She holds him, rubbing her hands over his too-bony back, his words cutting into barely-healing memories. It could have been her, it was her, only a few weeks ago. "'M sorry I weren't here," she murmurs, gently, a couple of tears of her own sliding down unnoticed to drop onto his shirt. "I wanted t' be, but I couldn't. I'm here now, an' I'll help you get through this, Manny, if you want me to."
Manny blubbered for a good five minutes before finally sniffling himself out and disentangling himself from Amanda's arms. ~Dammit, I told myself I wasn't going to do this any more.~ he mutters to himself in Castillian. Sitting back in his chair, he cleared his throat and then wiped at his eyes again. "I owe the Mexican a bad turn for what he did to me. But I cannot move openly - without my power, I am too vulnerable. I need your help to explain to him the magnitude of his error. Will you help me?" he asks.
She doesn't understand the Castillian, but she catches the tone, having used it herself often enough, and doesn't embarrass him by being overly solicitous, instead leaning back to give him space whilst leaving letting her hand drop to his forearm. Then she catches what he's said about Angelo, and she frowns. "I'll talk t' him, explain why you got so upset," she says. "But I won't help you do anythin' that'll hurt him. He's my friend too, an' he saved me life. I owe him, Manny, an' I won't turn against him, not even for you."
Manuel tsked under his breath at Amanda's refusals. "I see." he says, too-carefully. "He knows damned well why I'm upset. I think he positively revels in it. But no matter - I know what I need to know now. I know where I stand." His face changes as he speaks the last - the last light of pleasure and good feelings seem to disappear, wrapped in a shrouded mask of icy indifference.
~That link was my last hope. I should have known better.~ he says softly in Castillian, before standing up. "I think I'll be going now." he says in English.
"Manny..." Amanda says carefully, seeing his expression harden. "Angelo made a mistake. He didn't mean t' upset you, any more 'n you meant t' upset Lorna. Let it go, please?" She stands, reaches out to him again. "Don't think I don't want t' help you just 'cause I'm stickin' by me mate. You..." Words fail her as she tries to say just what Manny is to her. "I don't want t' see you hurt," she settles for in the end.
He looks at her hand, his face still that cold, expressionless mask, and she lets it drop. Then, without another word, he leaves.
Manuel is sitting in the Student Lounge, dressed all in black and with his iPod blaring. He's draped in one of the overstuffed chairs, with his eyes closed and his foot tapping to the music.
Passing the room on her way down to relieve Sarah's nicotine cravings, Amanda glances in... and stops dead when she sees who is there. 'He looks like shite,' is the first thought that passes through her head, and she winces at the memory of seeing herself in the bathroom mirror the first night at Homily's. Manny's gone beyond that. She hesitates in the doorway, wanting to say something, but afraid of what the reaction might be.
Manuel, not having his eyes open or access to the projective part of his power, remains oblivious. He lifts a hand to adjust his headphones, and a silver bracelet glitters there on his wrist, with a blinking red LED on it. He is skinny - nearly as bad as he was when he first arrived at the Mansion.
It's the fact he can't sense her there that prompts her to move. Glancing around to make sure there aren't any well-meaning adults around to stop her, she crosses the space between them, until she's just out of arm's reach from his chair. "Hey," she calls, as loudly as she can, knowing he'll have the volume turned up just short of ear-shattering. She'd tap his shoulder, but she doesn't want to give him a heart attack.
Manuel looks over at who disturbed him, and smiled an honest, real smile. "Amanda! You're back!" he says with real pleasure, disentangling himself from the chair and standing up, iPod and his music forgotten in the happiness of the moment. Then his face falls as he rubs his forehead like it was bothering him.
"Ow." he says, for some reason, then looks at her again more critically. "What happened to you? Why wouldn't you answer my emails?" he asks angrily.
"You emailed me?" she asks. Then realisation hits. "That fucking block... I didn't get anythin', same as you couldn't get anythin' from me. They didn't want me talkin' t' you. I asked Shinobi t' let you know I didn't hate you... did he?"
"Yes, I emailed you. But what I want to know most of all - what happened to our link? Even in the Box, I felt it break into a thousand shards - like a doorway that opened into oblivion. That was very unpleasant. But yes, he let me know that you didn't hate me." He then stares back at her, like he's looking _through_ her, and rubs his forehead again. "Ow." he says again, wobbling a little bit in place before sinking back into the chair.
Instinctively she reaches out to steady him, but stops just short of contact. There's too much to think about, too many reactions. There's a battered footrest not so far away, and she uses the distraction of pulling it over so she can sit by the arm of Manuel's armchair to try and clear her head. "I thought it was you being in the Box that made the link break," she says slowly, thinking it through. Then she remembers his journal, what he'd said about feeling something break her second day in England. "It must have been the cleansing ritual, the one Rom did for me. It was s'posed t' purge outside forces, bring me back t' meself. It must've included the link in that." She reaches out hesitantly, touches his arm. "'M sorry. I never thought... I've been that worried 'bout you, but I couldn't do nothin'."
"So I'm an outside force now? Should I be pleased or upset by this?" he says sarcastically, still rubbing his forehead. But at the same time he leans into the touch, revelling in simple human (female!) contact. "I have to admit, I am surprised you are talking to me. I thought I was your habit, and you're supposed to be above all of that right now. All noble and pure and cured of your unnatural desires. So where does that leave Man...Empath?
"I guess what I wanted to know the most is - why? Why'd you do it? I guess I'm not good enough for you any more - sure, I held you when you needed to not feel, I was there for you when you cried and begged, but the first chance you get, you desert me? That hurt, Amanda. And now you got to go have a vacation back home, and they lock _me_ in the Box?" he says angrily, the LED on his empathic filter blinking more urgently now. "And you went to _him_ for aid. The Mexican. Thanks to him, I have had a very unpleasant past few days, and I think I owe him a little something for my pains. I don't really _enjoy_ reliving being raped, as I'm sure you know. And I can't fucking touch him."
It's that small movement on his part, the leaning into her hand on his arm, that keeps her leaving. An indication that he needs her, as she used to need him. She owes him the attempt, at least. "I didn't desert you, Manny," she says as calmly as she can. "I was made t' go - I always was goin' back, remember? That was me punishment for the potion, t' go back and have trainin'. It weren't no holiday neither - I've been working me bloody arse off, so I could get back here." Without realising, she's stroking his arm gently, trying to calm him. "An' I'm still the same person I was, just without all that addiction shite - me head's on straight now, is all. I didn't know that the ritual would break the link - fuck, I barely knew me own bloody name with the drugs they was givin' me before I flew out. But I'm back now, an' I want t' help you, since you helped me. It weren't yer fault things went bad. It was me - I couldn't handle the bad feelin's any more, an' I couldn't keep askin' you t' take 'em away. Weren't fair on you, usin' you like that."
Manuel stares into Amanda's eyes, then crumples into her for a much-needed hug. "They used me, Amanda," he blubbers into her shoulder. "They used me, and made me love it, and it was the only thing I was allowed to feel. And the Mexican brought it all back to me, threw it back into my face," he sobs. "And it was so hard to think, and I couldn't feel, and I just got so depressed, and you weren't there, and nobody was there, and I couldn't leave..."
She holds him, rubbing her hands over his too-bony back, his words cutting into barely-healing memories. It could have been her, it was her, only a few weeks ago. "'M sorry I weren't here," she murmurs, gently, a couple of tears of her own sliding down unnoticed to drop onto his shirt. "I wanted t' be, but I couldn't. I'm here now, an' I'll help you get through this, Manny, if you want me to."
Manny blubbered for a good five minutes before finally sniffling himself out and disentangling himself from Amanda's arms. ~Dammit, I told myself I wasn't going to do this any more.~ he mutters to himself in Castillian. Sitting back in his chair, he cleared his throat and then wiped at his eyes again. "I owe the Mexican a bad turn for what he did to me. But I cannot move openly - without my power, I am too vulnerable. I need your help to explain to him the magnitude of his error. Will you help me?" he asks.
She doesn't understand the Castillian, but she catches the tone, having used it herself often enough, and doesn't embarrass him by being overly solicitous, instead leaning back to give him space whilst leaving letting her hand drop to his forearm. Then she catches what he's said about Angelo, and she frowns. "I'll talk t' him, explain why you got so upset," she says. "But I won't help you do anythin' that'll hurt him. He's my friend too, an' he saved me life. I owe him, Manny, an' I won't turn against him, not even for you."
Manuel tsked under his breath at Amanda's refusals. "I see." he says, too-carefully. "He knows damned well why I'm upset. I think he positively revels in it. But no matter - I know what I need to know now. I know where I stand." His face changes as he speaks the last - the last light of pleasure and good feelings seem to disappear, wrapped in a shrouded mask of icy indifference.
~That link was my last hope. I should have known better.~ he says softly in Castillian, before standing up. "I think I'll be going now." he says in English.
"Manny..." Amanda says carefully, seeing his expression harden. "Angelo made a mistake. He didn't mean t' upset you, any more 'n you meant t' upset Lorna. Let it go, please?" She stands, reaches out to him again. "Don't think I don't want t' help you just 'cause I'm stickin' by me mate. You..." Words fail her as she tries to say just what Manny is to her. "I don't want t' see you hurt," she settles for in the end.
He looks at her hand, his face still that cold, expressionless mask, and she lets it drop. Then, without another word, he leaves.
