The Beginning of the End (Closed RP)
Feb. 7th, 2008 05:14 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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It had been two days. Two days since she and Ben had seemed to come to some sort of taciturn agreement. Odd, that they'd done it without actually speaking. That they'd drifted apart, ending things, without a word being said to the other. But it had happened, nonetheless, and Victoria was left feeling empty. Broken.
Alone.
Her room was always cold. Something that had only peripherally bothered her before now became a gnawing torture. Curled up on her window seat under layers of clothing and her coat and blankets tugged from the bed, she still shivered. Still felt numb. And she knew, of course, that the frozen feeling had little to do with the weather. But it was easier to blame the Scottish winter, easier to glower at house elves and demand a bigger fire, easier to wish in vain for central heating.
Two days passed like that.
Not a great deal of time, considering. Considering a decade spent in a tiny cell, considering three years mourning him without being brave enough to find out for sure, considering the past few weeks with him haunting her. Not that long at all.
Only it'd felt like eternity. Because suddenly there was no hope. No promise. No 'maybe'. There was him and her and a chasm between them and Victoria'd forgotten how to build the bridge. If she'd ever known. If anything had been more than an illusion.
But on the third day, she realized she was hibernating, she was frozen, and she couldn't go on like this. Could not go another decade hidden away behind a mask she was too afraid to remove. Which meant if they were going to break, they really were going to end, it needed to be said. The words had to be forced out, Victoria needed to look into his eyes, the air between them had to shatter completely.
And so she sent out a house elf, writing a brief note with trembling fingers and sending it off to find Ben. He would come at her summons, she had no doubt of that, the only question came from what would happen after.
Pacing the room, arms wrapped tightly around herself, Victoria waited.
---
Ben,
Come.
Victoria
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Date: 2008-02-08 09:08 am (UTC)There were few things that Fraser could have said to her that would have wounded her deeper.
You hurt people.
She was her father. Was Jolly. Was some con in prison with a number and a cell and state issued clothes. She was something, someone, she didn't recognize. Had never wanted to turn into.
You hurt people.
Nothing she'd done had been meant to hurt. Not really. Burning down Fraser's cabin was a petty gesture, she'd admit it. Taking away his home the way she'd lost hers. And yes, she'd pulled away everything around him, so they could be together. But she hadn't meant to hurt him. Wouldn't have had to, if only...
But she had. The fact remained, she had, and now that's all Fraser saw when he looked at her. Someone who hurt people.
Someone who hurt him.
And now he was so afraid of her, of what she might do, of the lengths she would go to, that he was letting her go. Again. But this time wasn't really his fault, was it? Ben was just doing what he had to. Because she hurt people. Because she'd turned into everything she'd run from.
All this distance, all this time, and it hadn't mattered. She'd become nothing more than Frank Metcalf's daughter after all. Hurting people she loved. Destroying everything she touched.
Emotions flickered across Victoria's face - anger and hurt and regret and grief and shock and love and pain and hope and above all, above everything, bitter resignation - and then they were gone. And Victoria gave Fraser a tiny little heartbroken smile, barely able to hide the pain, barely able to hold herself steady.
She leaned in to kiss him again. This time so soft, so slow, memorizing everything about him. The feel of his skin under her fingers. The way his lips felt under her own. The hitch of his breath, the beat of his heart, the way he smelled - every sensation filed away. Because this was the last of it. The only piece of him she'd ever have.
Then Victoria pulled away. Tears already starting. "I'm not going to hurt anyone," she whispered brokenly. "And if that's all--"
Shaking her head, she turned to walk away, pulling her bag out and starting to pull things from her dresser, packing. "If that's the only thing you can think of when you see me, then I'll leave. Because I love you Fraser. I love you. And all I can think about is being with you. That's all I want. I don't want to hurt anyone. I just--" What did it matter? Victoria shook her head again, wiping her eyes with quick swipes of her hands and trying to catch her breath.
"I'm sorry."
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Date: 2008-02-09 12:26 am (UTC)"That would be fine if this were just between you and me." He grit his teeth, his voice sharp with exasperation. If she wanted to destroy him, it was between the two of them. If she wanted to hurt him, he could take it, and he would forgive her endlessly. "But it's not, Victoria, and you know it. This isn't just about us. You brought other people into it."
He had hurt her and paid for it. Paid for it very nearly with his life -- or with his freedom. He would have gone to jail for her in a heartbeat, readily confessed to Jolly's murder. If she hadn't brought Ray Vecchio into it. If she hadn't tried to take him down with Fraser. If she hadn't hurt Diefenbaker. If she hadn't tried to destroy everyone he loved in the process of destroying him.
He turned to watch her pack, tense, getting angry now. "This isn't about me, Victoria-- for God's sake, I have a family here," he expulsed. "What would you have me do, introduce you to them? What should I tell Diefenbaker?" He folded his arms and raised a brow. "Oh, yes, he's here, and he's doing very well, I'm sure you're happy to know. What should I tell him about you?"
He shook his head and turned away, jaw clenched, arms tight. His eyes fixed on the snowglobe, so like another he knew. "There's far too much at stake," he said. "I can't... be with you knowing it will hurt them." Because already, visions of their future were flashing in his head. Say they got back together -- what happened the next time he screwed up? What happened if he was... was petty, or insensitive, or if they simply had a fight? Would she put something in Ray's food? Have Stephanie deported?
"And it's not me you should be apologizing to," he added quietly, coldly.
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Date: 2008-02-09 01:48 am (UTC)Cutting herself off, she whirled on him, eyes blazing. "Maybe, Fraser, if you get off your perfect horse for a second, you'd hear what I was saying instead of just being self-righteous and judgmental. I said I was sorry. I said that I didn't mean for people to get hurt. I did what I thought I had to do. I never wanted anything but for us to be together."
Taking a quick breath, Victoria glared at him. She was standing toe to toe with him, chest heaving, jaw jutted out in defiance. "You're just too damn cowardly to take a chance. So fine, Ben. Don't. I can't do anything else but promise you what I have. Than tell you that I don't want to hurt anyone, that all I could hope for is a chance where you didn't treat me like some criminal you had to watch over. But if you can't do that, then I'm leaving."
She turned to go back to packing, anger making her shake. She knew Ben had a point, she knew it, but it didn't make the whole thing hurt any less.
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Date: 2008-02-09 02:29 am (UTC)He turned away sharply and began to pace, his jaw working furiously as he fought to contain himself. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this angry, had this feeling of boiling over that sought to overtake him now. Oh, he had been annoyed with Lily on a few occasions, but that was nothing compared to this. There had been Warfield -- It all comes down to who's harder -- but that had been a cold anger, something containable, usable. This was a hot anger, the kind that controlled him instead of the other way around, that turned the water in his veins to steam.
It was Ray. He hadn't yelled like this since that day on the wharf, two years ago, when Ray had hit him. That made a kind of sick, ironic sense; Ray was the only other person who could make him act this way. He shook his head roughly and spun back upon her, flushed. "You are a criminal," he snapped. "You've committed murder, theft, arson, fraud, assault -- those are only the felonies, shall I continue? For God's sake, Victoria, you came here to steal something! You came here to hurt someone!"
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Date: 2008-02-10 11:28 pm (UTC)A hot flush high on her cheeks, eyes snapping, Victoria stared him down defiantly. "And if you think I like myself," she hissed quietly, "for any of what I've done, you are sorely mistaken."
For a second she just stood there. The absolute anger in her expression making her blood run hot, making it easier to hide the pain his words caused. Because he was right. Of course he was right. He had no reason at all to trust her, to want to be with her. She'd gambled everything and lost a long time ago.
Finally, shaking her head, a sad twist to her lips, Victoria turned away. She closed her eyes and just breathed, just one small exhale, composing herself. "And I just told you," she continued in a small voice, returning to shoving her belongings into her bag with trembling fingers. "If that's all you can see when you look at me, if all I am to you anymore is some con that it's your duty to watch over, then I'll just leave. Because it's killing me--" She broke off when her voice trembled and she stopped, bent over the bag, again forcing that tight pain in her throat back down. "It's killing me," she tried again, lowly, "and I can't anymore, Ben. I can't do this."
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Date: 2008-02-11 05:48 am (UTC)"It's not up to me, Victoria," he said after a moment, shaky control regained. "I can't change things for you, and I can't make you do anything you don't want to do. And you're right." He faced her head-on, dredging up some of that Fraser will, his voice growing strong again, almost forceful. "You can start over here. You can make a change. Lots of people come here to do just that, people from far more desperate situations." Victoria, at least, had never been dead. At Hogwarts, that was almost a matter of privilege.
"The possibilities here are endless," he went on. "And if you want to stay, I promise you, you'll have all the help you need. I'll do whatever I can to help you, you have my word on that. But you have to decide to stay, Victoria, and not for me, not because you think it's what I want, but for yourself." He knew it sounded stilted, cliched -- like a speech someone might give to a high school class -- but he knew he was right, and that gave him the energy to push through it. Because it killed him to see her this way: angry, hurt, but most of all lost.
He'd always believed there was good in her, beyond the darkness. It was one of the reasons he had fallen so deeply for her. It was one of the things he still loved about her, that piece of her he could still sometimes see in her eyes. Even if they couldn't be together, even if there were too many things keeping them apart, if he could make it better for her, he would... but there was nothing he could do, not until she started helping herself, not until she asked him of her own accord. It hurt to understand that, but there was nothing else he could do for her. He couldn't make her be good. He couldn't force her to give up crime. And until she did... what could he possibly do?
Did you think we could just pretend it didn't happen? she'd asked him, pushing him across the doorway, into his apartment. How could you do it? How could you do that to me?
"If you want to leave," he continued after a moment, sounding a little hoarse again, "I won't stop you. I won't even tell anyone you were here, aside from those who already know of course. I'll even, uh..." He broke off, digging into his utility belt. He hadn't brought his hat, and most of his money was inside the brim, but after a moment he fished out a few bills, and a couple of Galleons. He held them out to her. "And you can do whatever you like. But it's... I can't choose for you, Victoria, I can't tell you what to do. It's not up to me." He watched her with sad, hopeful eyes, waiting, wondering to see what she would do.
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Date: 2008-02-11 06:03 am (UTC)She wanted to be so much more.
A ragged little sob broke out of her, out of a throat so tight that she didn't know how she was still breathing, and Victoria pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. Trying to keep herself together, trying to gather up the fraying ends and tie just one more knot. To find the will to hold it all firm for just one more try.
"I don't know how," she admitted finally. And that admission seemed to finally break her. Sitting down on the edge of her bed, Victoria stared across the room, stared anywhere but Fraser, a brief hysterical laugh edging past the tears. "I don't want your money, Ben. I never-- Money never was--"
Shaking her head, she wiped her eyes and tried again. "You don't think I want to be different? I want to be...be better somehow?" Finally she met Fraser's gaze, an unspoken plea in her expression. "I feel like I'm still in prison sometimes, Ben. Like I go ten steps forward and twelve across and I keep running up against bars. And just when I think I've found a way out, the door slams shut behind me and I'm trapped again."
Her head fell forward, a curtain of dark curls hiding her face. The next words were so quiet, they seemed to disappear the moment they hit the air. But she meant them, from the bottom of her soul, from every part of her. Because all she knew was where she was, who she was, meant she was something he couldn't love. And if Ben couldn't love her, then what was left?
"Help me."
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Date: 2008-02-13 06:45 am (UTC)Strange as it was, he may not have trusted her very much, but he still believed in her with all his heart.
"I know it's hard," he said gently, approaching the bed, "but the rewards are very great." It probably would have sounded trite or insincere coming from someone else, but from Fraser, it was genuine. He didn't just want this for himself. She could be good, and she could be happy. They had been, once, if only for a few days. He had to believe that.
Despite all that, he stopped in his tracks when she spoke again, honestly surprised by her request. "Do you mean that?" he asked automatically, which was stupid, because it was obvious she had. "I'm sorry, that was-- I didn't mean it that way." For all his pleading with her, he simply hadn't expected it to be that easy: he had still been geared up for a fight, ready to convince her that the path of the righteous was better. Or perhaps it was just that after so long, he hadn't been prepared for this to end so easily: not with a bang, but quite literally with a whimper.
Suspicion hissed through his mind; he shoved it aside almost violently. Now wasn't the time for doubt. It was the time for action.
He finished crossing the room to the bed and sank down to his knees in front of her, trying to see past the dark mass of her hair. His eyes were wide and earnest, shining -- looking, for the first time since her arrival, almost young. "I'll do whatever I can to help you," he told her fervently. "Anything within my power."
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Date: 2008-02-14 10:10 pm (UTC)Not just that she and Ben might cobble together a now. But that they could actually have a life. A home. Something real, something theirs.
Shaking her head mutely, she leaned forward to rest her forehead against his. Her Ben, her beautiful Ben, everything she loved and everything she hated all at once. Running her thumb over his jaw, she shrugged. Trying to find words. "Love me?" she asked, finally, pressing her lips to his gently, almost tenderly. "Be with me?" Another kiss, this one lighter. "Be patient?" A third, this one more lingering, and Victoria barely lifted her mouth from his as she smiled, mumbling, "And stop following me around like you're waiting for me to pull a gun. Just...let me try, Ben."
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Date: 2008-02-15 01:59 am (UTC)He lowered his eyes in an expression of penitence, running his hands down her arms to take her hands in his again. His smile widened at the corners, just a little. "Unless, of course," he added, and now his voice was a little husky, "you would rather I not." He dipped his head down and kissed her fingertips, lips parting over the pad of her index finger.
No matter what people said about him, Fraser was, after all, only human. His heart hadn't been the only piece of him that had longed for this.
He looked up with an old, familiar glint in his eye, and got up off his knees to kiss her properly, to pull her into his arms and--
Stop it, said a voice from behind him.
Fraser broke off the kiss with a low growl, gritting his teeth. "No. Go away." Right. Where were they? "Not you," he told her hurriedly, and leaned back in to kiss her--
You can't do this! his father protested, sounding angry.
Fraser stopped again. "Why not?"
Behind him, Bob folded his arms and arched a brow. Do you really want me to answer that, son?
...Admittedly, he had a point. But things were different. They were going to change now, she'd said so herself. Surely it would be all right to indulge himself just this once. All right, maybe it wasn't the safest move, but...
Fraser sighed and pulled back, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. Would you excuse me for a moment?"