invisibilitea | IC CONTACT

[And he knows that he should tell her: about the girl in the hallway, how ready he was to kill her, and she was only a child--and before that, too, the pirate that he killed, almost a year ago, but he's never forgotten--and before the ship, Lia, and the train, the blood smeared on the walls and the sticky heat of it on his face, on his hands--on Daisy's face, and he'd licked it off of her, kissed every place of her he could find, half for the blood and half because he wanted to--

But he doesn't say it. He bites back his confession, because he's a fucking coward, because he'd take the easy comfort over confession any day. He turns against her and grabs hold of her, just like he always does, pressing his forehead into her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her--]

I love you, Annie. I love you so much, so-- I can't ever lose you. I've done such things, such-- terrible things-- but it's different now. It's different, and it has to stay different.

I love you. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.

[What she sees are the parts of him that are safe, but she's always been that way, myopic when it comes to the men in her life. When it comes to who she chooses to love (or who love burdens her with), she cuts away the filthy parts of them, even when it's looking her in the face.

But who can compare to Owen? Mitchell drinks blood but he doesn't hurt her.]

Let's get tea, all right? We'll fix it. You'll be fine.

[She smiles, see? It's all right.]

[He holds tightly to her a moment longer, and against her shoulder he manages a miserable little smile. We'll fix it, she says, but there's nothing that fixes him. But she forgave him, and keeps forgiving him, and she loves him. And that's what matters. That's what comes closest to fixing him.

He pulls away, finally, and reaches to smooth his thumb over her cheek as he studies her smile. There's a little blood under his thumbnail. He tries to ignore it. When he drops his hand, he'll lick the blood away first, he knows he will--but for now he only looks at Annie.]

I love you.

[Once more, like he's got to confirm it. And then all right, tea--he doesn't smile back, but her smile has lifted something off of him, no matter how small.

It's as they're walking again that he adds--] Annie--we can't tell George. Please.

[She smiles at him, like that has made the entire world, even the world aboard this horrible ship, so much better, and nods, her hand firmly in his.]

I don't think there's anything to tell. You came back from engineering, that's all.

[And a pause.]

I'm sorry I got lost, Mitchell.

[He should feel bad about that, too--at least a little--how easy it is, to get her to lie for him. Her smile eases some of the guilt, enough so that when she adds that apology, he can tug at her hand to get her attention.]

Hey. Don't be. It wasn't anything t' do with you, it was this ship. None of us had a choice.

[She wants to curl around him, to make everything better, and she doesn't know how so she just presses a kiss to his cheek.]

I know. But you worry.

[It's cold, like always, but it at least gets a little smile out of him--even if his guilt is lingering on the edge of all of this.]

Only 'cause I care about you.

I know.

[She does know. She worries about him, too. More than he knows, more than she'll ever admit.]

Well, then, good.

[And finally he's starting to feel better. Part of that is the blood: the warm spread of it working over him, the easy way it floods his system and makes everything feel a little better. But part of it is just Annie, and he grabs a firmer hold of her hand and tugs at her, pulling her on to the kitchen.]

Come on. I'll feel even better after tea.

[Or it will be easier to forget, for now, what happened. The taste of blood will be out of his mouth, and he'll have Annie. That's really all that he needs.]

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