ellectrical | (no subject)

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When they had returned, Elle had forced her way through the first door she could, if only to, for a moment, get away from Bennet.

Instead, she'd ended up at the Bar. For the first time, she's not entirely sure she wants to be here.

So she'd retreated through the back door, out toward the grounds, making her way to the lawn near the lake. Though it had been the middle of the night in her world, it's very early morning here, sunlight just beginning to brighten the eastern sky. Elle really only pays attention to the extent that she can see well enough to find a spot reasonably apart from the water, where she sits down in the grass, her knees pulled up to her chest.

She's not sparking, but she is, very slightly, shaking.

The stuffed dog sits in the grass a few inches away from her. It had still been in her hand when she walked through the door.

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Elle curls up a little more against her knees when X approaches, feeling oddly trapped. Her shaking doesn't increase, but it also doesn't stop.

She's looking at the ground in front of the other woman when she answers, "Hi, X."

X does not move any closer.

She also does not speak, at least not immediately.

What she does instead is scent the air, just to check.

Then --

"You are not sick. Or poisoned?"

It shouldn't need to be a question, but Elle is shaking, and X does not understand.

"I don't think so."

Is there a word for what she is? Is it like 'sick'? Elle doesn't know.

"Okay," X says, a little cautiously.

She does not follow it up with 'that is good'.

Because it does not feel like it is.

"But you are shaking."

Elle's arms pull her knees a little tighter, as though she's trying to physically stop herself from shaking.

It doesn't work.

"I'm trying - not to," she murmurs.

"It is okay," X says after a long moment of silence.

She has not moved any closer.

"If it is -- "

She pauses, looking for the word. She does not find it.

Instead --

" -- necessary."

She releases her knees, putting her hands on the ground as though trying to use it to steady herself. It doesn't work, either.

"I didn't - I could do it, before."

Her fingers dig into the ground. Still no effect.

"Just - not think. At all."

Or maybe, as X had put it, being no one.

"You want to do it again?"

It --

Sometimes it is very effective. X remembers.

But --

"I do not know if it is like meditation. For you."

But at least people teach meditation.

She looks back to the lake. "I'm trying."

Her fingers flatten out in the grass. "But it - won't go back."

X's gaze drops to Elle's hands and stays there.

The silence holds, just for a few moments.

"Then you will have to do something else."

Here X hesitates, looking back up at Elle's face.

"Or try."

X has always been very good at pushing forward. Sometimes it is the only thing that makes sense. To her.

"I don't -"

Pause. Inhale. Elle looks back at X.

"I don't know what else to do."

X does not blink.

And after a careful moment of consideration --

"You can think about it. Until it does not hurt."

Beat.

"Or until it makes sense."

If it ever makes sense. Some things are always strange.

And Elle doesn't look away.

"It does make sense."

"But you do not like it."

It's a little bit of a question.

Because X does not really understand.

"I'm sorry."

And she feels that. Entirely. Like she's letting X down.

"I don't think I can make you understand."

(And maybe part of her doesn't want to. Even if it were possible.)

X shakes her head, just once.

"That is not relevant."

Beat.

"I do not know what will be useful for you. To make it -- "

She struggles for the right word.

Maybe she even finds it.

"Better."

Or maybe not.

Edited 2012-09-15 03:37 (UTC)

Elle's not sure there's really an answer for that. But she doesn't feel like she can deny that to X, too.

She looks back down, and moves her arms back around her legs.

"Do you - understand what I did before?"

X frowns very slightly, attempting to follow Elle's question.

She does not want to get it wrong.

"When you stopped -- "

There should be a word for it. Multiple words, even.

X does not know what they are. So instead --

"After you remembered."

"Yeah," she answers.

"After that."

"I do not know," X says, after a long silence.

"If I understand."

Beat.

"It was different. For me."

X is not good at emotional extrapolation. Interpolation is a different story.

"But I do not think you have to explain."

"I can explain."

Beat

"If you want."

X hesitates.

Then, carefully --

"You do not mind?"

"I don't mind."

But apparently, X is going to have to actually ask.

"Okay."

X absorbs that for a moment, letting the semi-certainty sink in.

Then --

"You will explain? About what you started to do. After you remembered."

Beat.

"Please."

Her grip on her knees becomes tighter, and she looks away from X, leaning her head against them.

"It's about - where I was before. The place I had to escape before."