hadriel_logs | you're a tragedy starting to happen [CLOSED]

Entry tags:

nick valentine,
rey

you're a tragedy starting to happen [CLOSED]

Who: Rey and Nick Valentine.
What: The beep boops need to have a talk.
Where: The Orchard.
When: A few days after the Confusion event (10/5).
Warnings: PG-13 for language and heavy themes. I'll update if necessary.

It's been over a week since Rey has last heard from Nick. It has also been that long since she has returned to the house they share on the First Spiral. Because that would risk them running into each other again and, Rey not knowing just how much Nick remembered of their last encounter, possibly confronting certain subject matters she would rather not confront at all.

Everything that happened is clear to her, though. From the things she had blurted to the periods of her identities getting mixed up with each other, she remembered everything. If that were the case, then no doubt Nick would be able to recall what she had said to him in a moment of thoughtless cruelty.

You're not even a person...

At one point, she would have thought that. Her sentiments regarding synthetics remains a lingering devil in the back of her heart, and much of that has everything to do with her and who she is. What she is. That, despite everything that people have said pointing towards the contrary, she doesn't really have a future outside of her mission. But that's her, and that is her problem to contend with. Nick doesn't deserve that. He doesn't deserve any of what has happened to him.

What a hypocrite. After all that talk of how he's a person, how he's better, and that's how she treats a friend. Hell, would she even be welcome, after what she did? The dull ache of the gunshot wound in her leg doesn't even register anymore, having healed over within a day after the incident, but her words were far more damning than his actions.

In the end, she doesn't go anywhere. Not home, not to a spiral or an abandoned house, or even an occupied place to crash at. She's made an effort to avoid familiar faces in favor of some alone time. Stew in her own discomfort for a while.

Besides, the grove is nice. Easier for her to sit and think for a while. Even found a tree strong enough to support her weight, where she rests, nestled in a thick groove centered around colorful leaves. Her legs dangle between two branches, sprawled with all of the ease and comfort of a reclining chair as she stares up between the greenery at the darkness hovering over the city.

Though it should be nighttime, she can't sleep, and she can hardly muster the strength to patrol. She checks her phone from time to time, unable to bring herself to call out or open a line of communication. Not since things started to become clear again.

Can't. She won't.

She'll just stay here. For a little while.

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Unable to remember who he was, Nick had left his phone behind when he'd fled the house, when he'd gone on the search for a man he despised in another world, another time. He'd spent the days walking the caves on his bad leg, listening to the quiet beep still echoing in the back of his mind, trying to figure out just who he was in the world and what his place was within it. The fog cleared eventually, as it always does when the gods finally put an end to their games, and he remembered his identity as Nick Valentine the machine rather than the man: a copy, a fake living off the memories and behaviors of the real deal. He's a synthetic simulacrum of the original with nothing to really call his own.

Well, save for what he has here, in Hadriel -- his family, albeit one that is currently broken. He can't recall what happened in full detail, but he remembers enough through the distorted memories: he'd thought he was the real Valentine, having awakened from his brain scan at the C.I.T. to find he'd been trapped in some kind of robot body. Rey told him the truth, warned him it'd been years since that happened, and that he was a completely different person, in a way. He didn't listen, blinded by his own rage over the injustice done to him, to Jenny. She and the original Nick had been dead for years, but for the synth, the wounds had still been as fresh as the day they'd been inflicted.

And so he'd shot Rey in the leg and left on his own, determined to hunt down the ghost of a man who isn't in Hadriel, and might not be anywhere anymore, for all he really knows. Their shared home at the First Spiral is empty when he returns -- without Rey, it's just a house. Yet despite that, he hasn't called, hoping to give her space. He'd put a bullet in her, said he was going it alone, and that he didn't need her help.

They're partners in this, he's told her before... and yet, it's so easy for the gods to turn them against one another. As he walks the street looking for her, his cane helping him along the way, Nick wonders if she can forgive him. A bullet to the leg won't do much to someone like her, but he can't say that for the damage done to their friendship, their family. That might be harder to repair.

And that's if they're still a family in any regard, if they can still trust one another. He has no way of knowing just yet how much of what she said that she actually meant. Could he even fix what they had, given what he is?

He's not a person, after all. He never has been.

They need to talk, and in-person, not over the phone. It's Confusion's tracking system that actually helps him find her -- at least one good thing came of the madness she brought to town.

His gait is nearly inaudible on the ground as he pockets his phone, the dirt soft beneath the trees. However, given how quiet the air is, she might be able to hear someone with a limp -- and a cane -- making his approach, his eyes glowing bright in the darkness.

When Nick draws near, Rey is in the process of peeling the skin off an orange-like fruit she had picked from a branch overhead. She has grown fond of the citrus scent wafting from the ring as she casually tosses pieces onto the ground.

Hey, it isn't littering if it's compost.

She's aware that someone is close, but she doesn't make to see who it is right away. Plenty of people pass through the orchards, so the presence of some company comes as no surprise that warrants extreme discretion.

That isn't to say her guard is completely down. A pistol is within arm's reach, should anything approach with more violent intentions. Rather than addressing Nick or even checking to see if it's him, Rey just continues her current task.

It's almost just as well as saying hello, as Nick will find a rain of orange-colored fruit skin slices bouncing off the brim of his hat.

Despite the rain of fruit peels, it takes Nick nearly an entire minute to actually speak to Rey once he spots her. He's not sure what he's going to say, or what he even can say in light of what happened.

So he starts simple, his grip on his cane tightening as he steels himself for whatever comes. "Hey."

Edited 2016-10-03 02:20 (UTC)

Within that minute, she starts to take the first bite out of the fruit when Rey hears Nick's voice. She almost drops her food, but catches it in time.

Then, she leans forward, peering over her feet to see Nick a good twelve feet below her.

"Hey," is all she says in return.

It's just one word, but it's a start. At least she answered him, which is a little more than he was expecting. She hasn't been home in days; they haven't seen each other since what happened. He's wasn't sure if she'd speak to him at all, if she's still mad at him or herself, or if she even considers them anything more than two synthetic people who once cared about each other.

Still cares, in his case. It's hard to read Rey as always, but especially when she's high above him in a tree.

"How's your leg?"

Rather than answering him immediately, Rey just stuffs the fruit in her mouth instead, freeing both hands to push herself forward.

Making sure not to hit Nick on the way down, she demonstrates the current state of her leg with a graceful landing. Her weight hits the earth with a heavier thud, but otherwise she appears in top shape for someone who had their leg shot just a week ago.

"Fine." She establishes this even further by swinging the leg Nick had shot back and forth for him to see. "Can heal pretty fast, so you don't have to worry about that sort of thing."

If he was worried at all. Though, if he's asking about her leg, then he probably remembers what he did. And that would mean that he remembers what she said, too. There's no reason to assume otherwise. Her stomach twists in disgust -- not at Nick, of course. Just herself.

Though his mouth twitches with the barest hint of a smile, Nick's brow remains creased, as knotted as his gut would be if he had one. He can still remember the feeling of it somehow.

"Good," he replies quietly. His metal fingers adjust themselves again on the crook of his cane, his eyes flicking to her leg, then away. Despite being so practiced in keeping his composure, he can't help the way his nose wrinkles in disgust, both at what he did to her and what the gods did to them both.

He cocks his head back. "Come on. Let's go home."

Though he makes the offer without hesitation, he wonders if she'll take him up on it. Is it still home to her? Is he still worth living with, despite what he is?

Part of Rey wants to accept Nick's suggestion with no hint of uncertainty. To ignore everything that had happened the previous week in favor of the notion that he probably just doesn't remember it all too clear. They could never bring it up, leave it to be a terrible skeleton gathering dust and flies in the closet.

But she can't. Having lived most of her lives in nothing but lies, she can't bring herself to live this life with even a second of doubt in her mind. That all that progress she had made with Nick had been undone with just a few words. Words that weren't her own, feelings that weren't her own, ideals that weren't her own, but another's. That's not who she is now.

So, when Nick offers with not a slight bit of hesitation, she can't bring herself to just play along with ignorance.

"Are you okay with that?" Rey asks, trying not to squeeze the peeled fruit she has now in her fist.

"Are you?"

Nick brings his eyes back to Rey; despite their inhuman glow, there's a hint of sadness to them that mingles with the frustration that etches into his brow. It's so easy to get the answers when he's on the case, when he's got distance between himself and the clients. This is Rey, though -- this is someone who understands him.

And yet, she still said what she said. It had to be Confusion's doing, he thinks. He wasn't exactly in his right mind, either.

Then again, he knows it could also be years of a firm doctrine that has yet to be undone. Maybe she'll eventually come to see him as more than he really is, as she has insisted in the past. Maybe she's already on her way there and simply struggles with it... or maybe she'll always consider him a cheap imitation for real humanity, and he was just blind to that fact because he wanted to believe in her, to believe he'd found someone else who is both human and not in equal measures.

He doesn't want to doubt her; he said he wouldn't, but here he is doing so, her words still echoing in his mind. It had escaped her in the heat of the moment, but was it the truth?

Although there is nothing to be jovial about, Rey laughs. It's a joyless laugh, shaky and brief. As though it'll help her to dismiss the fact that Nick expresses his concerns similar to her own.

"You think I'm mad about a shot to the leg? Come on." The only thing that could make this less appropriate is a playful punch to the shoulder, which Rey withholds. "You know I've taken worse hits than that."

Plus it was obvious to her that Nick wasn't shooting to kill at the time. Only to slow her down, keep her from following him. Because she would have, otherwise.

Nick is completely impassive during her response, her dismissive laugh doing nothing to ease his mind.

"It's not just the gunshot," he returns, and she knows it. "It's how I turned a gun on you in the first place. How I didn't believe you. Things I haven't told you... and maybe some things you haven't told me."

There's a lot that goes unsaid between them, after all -- things that didn't need saying, or so he thought. Maybe they should talk more, even if it is difficult. Doing the right thing often isn't easy.

There's no denying that she knows it. Rey may be a lot of things, even feigning social ignorance at times, but she isn't so unaware and there's no point in hiding that from Nick who knows better now.

She squints at his phrasing, especially that last part. The part that doesn't bode very well to her at all.

"I have no reason to hide anything from you, Nick."

That much is the truth.

His response comes before he can rein it in. "No reason, but you still do. You go running off into danger without even telling me what it's all about, insist you're fine when the blood trailing behind you says otherwise..." And then there was that time not so long ago that he found out about Rey's relationship with a murderer via Muscovy.

Of course, for all he knows, he might be a murderer too, if that memory with his brother holds water. Some of their secrets aren't kept on purpose, and everyone has their demons, but somehow, he expected more from her. He thought they were closer than that.

Of course, he thought she saw him as more than what he is, too. Hell, he's been wrong about things before, misjudged people... but he doesn't want to be wrong about this, about Rey.

Come on, Nick. That's a low blow.

"I also could have gone running off into danger without telling you anything at all, but I didn't. Don't know what else you were expecting -- I'm not going to sound any alarms until I know something for certain. Wouldn't want to be known as the idiot who cries wolf."

Not to mention that other stuff, such as the fact that Rey is a murderer herself. But that's neither here nor there at the present moment. Seems like a good number of people here have some blood on their hands.

"I expected you to keep me more informed than that," he returns. "Especially if you have any more respect for me than you would for the damn coffeemaker."

He takes in a breath, one he doesn't need; it cools his temper, regardless. "I had to trust you'd be okay, but if you weren't, I couldn't have even told anyone who you were with or what you were doing out there."

Edited 2016-10-04 01:39 (UTC)

Damn. If she didn't already have her suspicions, that just confirmed exactly what Rey was afraid of: That Nick recalls what she had said to him just before he shot her. And, knowing him, he's probably taking it as well as she could have feared.

"Fuck, Nick. You're not comparable to a coffeemaker." Despite the very regrettable words that had sprung from her mouth at the time. "And that's just the thing -- as hard as I know it can be, you have to trust me that I know what I'm doing. I'm not green when it comes to gathering intel."

Even if said intel can result in putting oneself at risk. Not like Rey is any new to that scenario.

"I know that," he cuts back, his tone sharper, teeth baring themselves more with every word, "but that doesn't mean I don't worry about you."

It is hard to trust Rey, and even more so when she insists his concerns are all for nothing. He's been wrong thinking that before; he can't let it happen again.

So he puts the truth out there. Even if she already knows, or even if she doesn't consider him much more than some machine just pretending to be alive, it needs to be said. "I don't want to lose you, Rey. I don't think I could take it."

Something about Nick's reply feels like an anchor weighing on the top of Rey's head, hanging it low enough for her chin to hit her collarbone. Her likewise piercing gaze is drawn to the ground, where her widened eyes shift towards the cane that she had given to her friend rather than meeting his.

And then a rotten feeling shrivels up in her chest, and it wants to curl up into itself. He still thinks this way, even after the things she had said to him. Words that weren't hers, but had been enough to sow seeds of doubt in Nick's already fragile state of humanity.

It's wrong. All of this is so wrong.

"I'm not worth it," she snaps, though her voice wavers, softening the blow. "I'm not worth any of it."

As her fingers tighten, the fruit just releases from her grip so that she can form a fist in both hands.

As Rey closes in on herself, Nick takes a step forward, shortening the gap between them, keeping his foot in the proverbial door that she's trying to shut.

"If I didn't think you were worth it, you think I'd be out here now, even after what you said? What we both said?"

Another sigh. This is harder than he thought it'd be on the walk over.

"I just want to know where we stand, Rey."

Teeth gritting, the heel of her palm pushes against her forehead, as though nursing a terrible ache. But it isn't what's in her skull that's hurting right now.

"It wasn't me."

The words choke out after several seconds of nonsensical attempts at speaking, unable to find the right way to communicate any of this. Her voice pulls in her throat, and a painful yank just wants to summon harsh tones and feigned dialogue.

But she can't. She just shakes her head, palm pressing even harder against her face. "They were just so loud, so mixed up. I couldn't-- I couldn't find who 'me' even was. I still don't know... who that is most of the time."

Rey has been such a concoction of different memories and experiences that her identity has always been pretty nubilous. Even more so when you've got a god named Confusion mixing all of that instability into one murky soup.

Nick can hear the pain in Rey's voice; he knows better than some just how messed up her fractured mind can be, and he's only got one person's memories and personality as opposed to her several. Still, it's perspective, and one not many others are privy to. They just don't know what it's like to be living someone else's life with someone else's mind in a body that's not your own. They don't understand having to find a new purpose in the world when they were made for something completely different.

That's one reason he's so set on making this work with Rey, on keeping this 'family' thing they've got going. Someone who understands him, who can commiserate when it comes to the life he's led -- not Nick the man's life, but Nick the machine's entire existence -- is a gift he's sure he won't get ever again. He needs to appreciate her while he can, because like everything else he's ever had, he's bound to lose her eventually. He's taken some losses in stride, but others...

His own eyes fall to the cane keeping him upright, the one Rey gave him because, much like him, she worries. God, he did not want to think about Jenny again, nor relive his awakening as a machine, as a man lost and frustrated and desperate for a resolution that would never come. Some things just don't get easier with time.

"I can't even tell you who I am on some days," he admits. "I don't always know where we stand as partners, friends, or even family, but I know that what life I've got isn't the same without you in it, whoever 'you' may be. I think I'd rather have you around even if you think less of me than not at all."

And that's something he's not sure he could have admitted a several months ago; the fact that his experiences in the city have changed him this much is already a tricky subject.

Edited 2016-10-04 08:52 (UTC)

For a moment, it's as though the strength of several arms are pulling her down, solidifying Rey to that very spot. Unable to move, or speak, her jaw locks up tight and muscles tense at all the things Nick says. Not because she's adverse to such a kind message, or that she doesn't want to hear them. But the fact that she does want to hear them is what frightens her. She had spent her lives being expendable because there was always another Rey. Another backup. It didn't matter whether she lived or died. Oftentimes her death came as a benefit. Yet here Nick was, expressing concern for a version of herself he isn't certain if they see him as his own being, and not many ever held her in that regard before. She'd never earned that.

Her eyes squeeze shut, brows knitting over them. The truth is that she doesn't want Nick to believe she sees him as less than a person. Or that he's a machine that's faking his own humanity. Everything she's seen him say and do has always pointed towards the contrary, anyway. Arguably, she thinks he's better than her in that way.

Before a response can manifest from her mouth, impulse kicks in without her being consciously aware of it until it's too late. Throwing her arms around Nick's torso into a firm embrace, with a strong force that she probably shouldn't be applying to someone with a lame leg. But her own burly stature is more than enough to keep them both on their feet as her arms tighten around him.

"I think the world of you," she says eventually, through the fabric over Nick's shoulder where her face is buried.

While she can't always figure out her own feelings on matters or who she even is at times, that is something she can say without a doubt in her own mechanical heart.

The impact of Rey's embrace takes Nick by surprise, and for a moment, a flash of a memory takes him back to a time when he was someone else, a man with a beating heart and warm blood pumping through his veins. It's gone in an instant, but the sentiment of that memory still remains, reinforcing a single fact: he does not want to lose her.

His cane falls to the ground as he lets go of it, not needing its support at the moment. His arms wrap around Rey in return as he rests his head against hers, taking in another breath he doesn't need. Though he knows what he is, and how most people see him, he often feels like more than a machine, more human than he should be. He accepted long ago that he wouldn't be changing the minds of too many people when it comes to his synthetic nature; however, when it comes to those he cares about, he can't help but want more, want to be more.

Maybe he's gone soft, he thinks as his grip on her tightens. Or maybe he just doesn't want to lose someone so close again. It was enough to shatter the world of the original Nick, and he can already think of a few ways it'd destroy his own.

"I didn't know what to think when you didn't come home," he starts, his voice unsteady. "But I know you mean a lot to me, and it's not home without you."

Edited 2016-10-05 01:56 (UTC)

Whether it's necessary or not, Rey's hold also tightens around Nick when he drops his cane in order to return the gesture. She didn't expect him to. In fact, she was trying not to expect much of anything, but spite didn't seem becoming of Nick. It still doesn't, after everything that they've been through.

What he says hurts, though, and not in the same way as when he had doubted her in the first place. It's that she had made him doubt her, possibly even doubt himself in a way. Knowing how people treat his kind as things less than human, as mere machines, there's nothing worse than getting the same treatment from someone you care about. Though it wasn't her thoughts and feelings at the time, that lingering resentment remains like the many scars she's put on her skin.

Hearing the way he speaks doesn't help to ease the guilt, but she doesn't have the option to pull away. She doesn't want to.

"I'm sorry." A shuddering exhale escapes her lungs as Rey lifts her head, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I wasn't sure if you could forgive me. Honestly, I was more afraid of what would happen if you did."

Forgiveness is a complicated issue with Rey. She still hasn't forgiven herself for the things she has done, if she ever could do such a thing. How could she ever look for it from others?

While it's complicated for Rey, it's easier for Nick. He's an old soul, tired. He's seen what fighting and fighting until there's nothing left can do, both to an entire world and all the people living there. While that mean streak toward Eddie Winter will always remain -- and with reason -- he doesn't want to fight where he doesn't have to, and not with someone he cares about over something that wasn't entirely within her control. Some of what she said may be still in her, but she has a lot going on in her head, even without the gods toying with her mind.

Even the less malicious gods are still using them as fuel. Despite his usually cool and collected demeanor, Nick can't help be furious at them for using the citizens of Hadriel as means to an end. It's hard to temper that fire, especially when he was turned against his closest friend in the city -- his family.

And worse, the gods sowed doubt in both of them.

"Afraid of if I did forgive you?" he asks quietly, still holding onto her. "You wouldn't rather be out here, would you?"

Edited 2016-10-05 05:49 (UTC)

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