open ☾ When people run in circles, it's...
[OOC: edging towards insanity. ;_; I know it's hard to tag and might be until she snaps out of it for anyone that decides to thread w/ her. Since I know it's confusing, there's only demon blood and it's on her hands and shirt and specks on her face.]
a mad world
I am an angel of death. You only see me before you die.An angel of death walks down a ( Read more... )
a mad world
I am an angel of death. You only see me before you die.An angel of death walks down a ( Read more... )
She loves him so much, beyond measure, beyond words. It's in everything she knows and does and feels, and it is always-- it is always with her. If Elizabeth is present, her love for him is present too stronger than nearly anything.
"No, I don't think so either," Elizabeth says softly as she looks at his face and knows what he is speaking of without him needing to elaborate at the moment. It's nice that it--- that this comes back to her so easily when nothing else does. It is amazing to her to have this strengthen her.
There is no space between. They hold on to each other, and she rests her chin against his shoulder, closing her eyes. She breathes him in, focusing on the sensation that she can still feel. Her hands aren't numb to it, to him, to the heat and the strength and the feel of him against her. Her heart hasn't ceased feeling what it does for him.
These are all necessary reminders like rewriting endless truths across her skin until they sink in as they should. It will sink in. She's not lost yet, but it was so painfully and powerfully close that she can hardly bare to think about it.
Elizabeth nods against him. Tears fill her eyes again, and they burn and her throat tightens, and it's hard to breathe. "I will. I'll remember," she says quietly through the hoarseness in her voice, and he knows her so well because that is exactly what she would never want to happen. "I helped. A lot of people weren't alone when they died because of me."
And that means so much to her, and she needs to be reminded of it because it will always mean so much to her. It is an integral part of her that she doesn't want to let go of, doesn't want to not have within her grasps. And he is right in saying she has always believed in it and always counted on it.
Elizabeth smiles. It tugs at her lips despite how subdued it sounds, what he's saying. It is a helpless expression of how she's feeling, and it tugs gently across her lips. "You're amazing," she confirms, tracing his face with her hands coolness against the heat.
So familiar to her. She keeps her eyes closed against him, breathing him in and out. It is impossible to be prepared. It hits and it is like a tidal wave that cannot be escaped and that no one knows what it's going to feel like until it thunders over you and consumes you whole.
I love you too, and she hears the truth of it and the hoarseness in his voice. There are already tears in her eyes, but they spill again at how he sounds right now. It's a terrible, painful way for it all to end, and she wants to die as herself-- not this. Not this instead. She rests against him only pulling back when he speaks again.
There's all this pain, and she can sense it. One way or another, it hurts. It hurts them both, and she hates that. Elizabeth pulls back and sees his eyes burning with tears, and she leans in to press her lips against his because it is all she has. There are no words to fix it. There are no words to help him accept it. There is nothing to fight against but a slow, mad descent winding down.
She places her hands against his face and leans in, kissing him intensely. Elizabeth still remembers. This is still Elizabeth, and he is still Josef, and they're here tonight and she doesn't want to say goodbye yet. Even if it is inevitable.
Not ready. She'll never be ready.
"I'm gonna stay in for as long as I can, and I-- I'll just get as much-" Elizabeth lets out a heavy breath, shaking her head against his neck. Her hands slide along his skin as she buries her face there in the crook of his neck.
She lets out a shuddering breath again. Her throat's tightened up once more, and she presses a kiss against him.
"I'm so tired."
But the angel never tires and there is the ever internal battle.
"Tired of the screaming and the blood and the pain and the dying and--" Elizabeth shakes her head, resting her forehead against his for a moment. "You told me that once years ago. That you were tired."
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He can sense the tears, the pain and the loss, and it's not something that they can fix. Some things really are inevitable, and it doesn't matter how much you fight or try. You can do everything absolutely right, and you can still lose. He closes his eyes as she speaks, releasing a soundless breath.
"You did. You've done real good, Sparky," he says softly, and despite the heaviness inside his heart there's fondness in his voice, too. There's fondness and almost awe that there is someone as good and selfless as she is, who didn't have to give a crap no matter what the Calling dictated of her but she always has, and she's embraced it with everything in her and people who could've been scared and alone while they took their last breath weren't.
Because of her.
Angels of death are the rarest of her species, and it's why she's always believed it's that much more important for her to do what she believes she was meant to do, and be who she was meant to be.
Josef wouldn't let her forget that. The part of her that's still there wouldn't let her forget it, either. It would be cruel if she did, if she forgot why she believed this was worth it, why her mind becoming what it's becoming is worth it. It's not as if he puts much stock in what is just and what is deserved, but if anyone deserves at least that much, it's her.
You're amazing.
That pulls a smile across his lips, and it's as helpless as her own. Her forehead rests against hers while her hands trace his face, and he allows her fingers the exploration. He remains still against her, just breathing her in. "You're pretty amazing yourself," he says quietly, and he doesn't think that begins to cover it, but he doesn't know if there are words that would.
He doesn't allow himself the rest of what he's feeling. He can sense it, distantly, like the slow start of thunder, the anger, the hatred, the helplessness that creeps in whenever he allows himself to think of it, whenever he's confronted with the reality of what they face, what she faces.
There isn't any room for it now, not while she's quiet and breathing against him, remembering and feeling more like Elizabeth than she did only hours ago.
He won't let it in, and he keeps instead the love, the steadiness, the need to be a comfort, something steady while the rest feels shaky, while it feels like the ground may be ripped from under her at any given moment. He can't exactly know what it was like for her, there's no way for anyone to know but he can be there, the way she has always been there for him.
The way she was there for him in those church steps all those months ago.
Josef leans into the kiss as well, matching its intensity, sensing the need in it and it strikes a chord within the need of his own. It is just as familiar and amazing as it always has been, and that's more of a comfort to him than anything else.
This is still Elizabeth he is holding, Elizabeth he is kissing, and he doesn't have to say goodbye just yet.
He nods against her, forehead brushing against her own, cupping the back of her head with a hand. "You can stay in for as long as you'd like. I'd stay with you. Stock up on food, rent you all the movies you'd like, just... taking it easy for a while," he says, relieved he's able to keep his voice from growing too shaky, but his face threatens to crumple when she hides her own face in his neck and she can no longer see it.
The hand that was resting at the low of her back slips upward until it's cradling the back of her head again, in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. The words ram into him with strength, and they're painful, and also so very familiar.
He can remember saying them. He can remember what the reset felt like, how the edges of his mind began to peel away and how he couldn't focus, how scared he'd been because control wasn't there anymore, and he was tired, and now she is tired, and they are so young to be this tired.
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"I did," he says with another nod, clearing his throat, holding her closer, as close as he possibly can. "I did say that to you. I think it's okay for us to be tired from time to time. It's okay for you to be tired and hate it even if it doesn't last, even if it's just for that moment. You're allowed and it isn't wrong. It might feel that way but it's not wrong, Elizabeth. It's only human. You're human, too."
If she didn't, it wouldn't hurt. It wouldn't feel like it does now.
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She was exhausted, but her mind wasn't like what it is like now, and she told him that he was warm and safe. Elizabeth could have fallen asleep against him while they were standing up on the sidewalk. She could have fallen asleep. It feels that way too.
You did real good, Sparky.
Elizabeth smiles against him. There are tears burning in her eyes too, but she smiles against him mostly at the nickname that he has used with her since the very first day they met. It has such meaning to her. She loves the sound of it. She loves hearing him call her that. "Thanks, Man," she says hoarsely, pressing a kiss against his neck and smiling there.
No, as long as there is still a piece of her within this body, it won't let herself forget. She won't let herself forget. The reminder helps. The reminder helps when she's overwhelmed with hate and grief for what's to come and how she doesn't want this to end, not like this.
Never like this.
Elizabeth doesn't know that she will ever move. She obviously will. She has to at some point, but as painful as it all feels, this feels so much better than how she felt before. It's surrounded with love and strength and warmth, and she feels so blessed to have him, to have him holding on to her, and loving her when she's broken or when she's not.
Always.
It hasn't changed. The one constant in an ever changing city filled with living and dying. They lose people. They lose things. They suffer, but there has always been this, constant and steady. The strength of her feelings has only grown, and she grabs hold of that, aware that whatever comes that there has been this for years.
Love does not run.
She has never run, not even when he tried to make her.
And he has never run, never left her.
Despite how painful it has gotten, despite how much they have been through, despite how it became clear how this would all end one way or another. One way or another.
He never left her, not when she was in need. She is reminded of that when he agrees to them staying in and assures her that he will stay with her. Elizabeth knows he will even though he does important, dangerous work, because it's what he has always done before, because they are more important to each other than anything else.
She lets her hand rest against the side of his face, thumb following his cheek bone before her hand slips back into his hair. "Thank you. We could do anything at all, but I think just a lot of bed and movies and random food. I want to cook and back some more like... I haven't done enough of that." And there's a soft laugh but there's always room for more.
There's never enough, and she doesn't know the last time that she slept or ate, but her body feels as weak as her mind. She can't stop her mind from fraying and being destroyed, but she can focus on that and she can take this time while the angel has quieted into something that's manageable.
But still there.
Whispering and standing and pushing.
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There's still a her.
It's not fair at all. It's not fair, and she hates it as much as she has embraced it too. She hates how it feels to have her mind splintering.
"I think it's okay too. Even if it's not, I... I can't stop it," Elizabeth says, taking in a deep breath as she rests her face against him. She closes her eyes, every part of her feels heavy like lead, like heavy weights that she can't lift. "We can be tired together... as long as we're together."
As long as they can be.
"Okay?"
She's going to fall asleep soon, but she's more happy than she can say despite the pain and the grief that she's falling asleep in his arms as her.
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When he does, it's with crystal clarity. It's almost a comfort he can remember it so perfectly. There were times when things in general seemed like a blur, when picking a memory from all of the others seemed an impossibility, when trying to reach for them felt like too much effort but the plagues--Josef remembers all about the plagues.
It was when everything changed for them.
It was when they first kissed, and it was also when she finally saw the demon at his lowest, so close to that window of insanity. If it hadn't been for her presence, as much as he regrets hurting her the way that he did, pushing her the way that he did, he wouldn't have pulled himself back from the brink. It was the end of something and the beginning of something, in more ways than one, and he'd never understood the extent of it until much later.
In a sense, he is still experiencing the full weight and extent of those changes. There was so much death and so much fear in those ten days alone. Sometimes, it feels like they're the two strongest things in the city. That's not true, of course. She has taught him that is not true, but it's felt that way, and it's led to so much exhaustion and those edges in her mind.
"You're welcome," he says, just as hoarsely, pulling her closer and resting his lips against her temple. His arms wrap around her, holding her tight, and he remembering his nickname for her, replying with her nickname for him, is one more example of how there's still Elizabeth in her, and she was able to be reached. He doesn't want to think of the day where she won't.
But he already knows that it's coming soon, and he can't begin to deal with that.
Nothing will hurt more than this.
Nothing, not his mother, not his uncle, not every betrayal and mistake he's carried on his back for as long as he can remember. Nothing will hurt more than knowing, as he holds her, that she will be lost to him and soon.
Josef won't force her to move. Not for the rest of the night, if it comes to that. She can stay there without moving, just resting, for as long as she wants, and he's going to be right there with her for as long as that takes. He doesn't want her to be alone when she wakes up, and he doesn't want to leave. There is nothing that is more important than her. Not a meeting, not an obligation, not a need more important.
This is where he's going to be until she wants to leave the apartment.
The work he has been involved in, knee-deep as of late, isn't even a thought in his mind at the moment. Even if it was, it wouldn't change his decision. It's the first time in a long time Josef trusts someone else to inform him if he's needed, be it by Damon or Sonny, and Josef still wouldn't leave if they can take care of it for themselves.
They don't have a lot of time. He can almost feel the clock ticking, and he doesn't want to waste any of it chasing around ghosts, chasing around something that ultimately is just not as important. He loves her, more than anything. More than his need to see through his latest investigation, more than his need to tie loose ends left by his uncle's death.
"You'll have time now," he says, his lips still against her temple, the words breath across her skin. She'll have time to cook and bake and do things she's wanted to do that the angel and Calling has not let her do. It's safe here within these walls. There isn't death reminding her she must always be standing, must always be seeing it through, must take it all on and break her mind further.
There's only a home, and the time to rest. He will make sure that she gets that. He'll take care of her the way she has taken care of him. Once she wakes up he'll have food at the ready in case she's hungry. Even if she's not, he's going to pry a little so that she does eat since he can't be sure of how long it was since she last ate, either.
That's important, too.
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Josef nods at the Okay?, saying nothing further, wanting her to get the rest she hasn't gotten in who knows how long. He waits until he is positively certain she is asleep before his face twists into something painful, tears finally slipping down his cheek. The side of his face hides in her hair and he forces it back down.
The grief and the anger and the insolent rage that does not need to be felt now, even if he does. He feels it all, right at the center of his chest, and once he's shoved it back down, he's steady and still again. He can take whatever comes next because she is here and they are still here.
Elizabeth is sleeping and she is still here with him.
And that is all that matters.
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