(no subject)
Finally, it's finished!
Authors: iambickilometer and scully_trustno1
Characters: Robin, Shell, Jamal, Candy
They won't go they won't go they won't go--
"You're wearing a hole in the floor," says Shell sourly, and he says it because he is here, without intention of getting out, of leaving, and just watching him, watching him, along with them, and they are here, and he can feel the hairs on his neck prickling as their eyes follow his every motion, flicking, hearing his heart and the tap-tap-tapping of his feet--
"Look, you need to get out now!" Robin finds himself almost shouting, because he knows that enough was enough, they have made their fucking point, all right, and it's none, none, none of their fucking business, and if they could just--
"Nope!" she says, florescent-haired, wide-eyed, bushy-tailed, maddening. "Not until--"
"All right, yes, fine, you've won, we'll talk, but get out!" They are here, their presence seeping into the very foundation of wood and plaster and insulation until they would never, never be out, until nothing would be--
"But--"
"I think we agree on this," Shell says. Even though Robin sees him glance towards him, he doesn't look up. Shell's eyes narrow and flick back to Candy. Robin knows, from the arch of shoulders and the too-straight spine and the click-click-clicking of fingernails on armrest that Shell has moved beyond irritated at the girl. "Leave."
She begins to pout. "But--"
What if she refused to go? What if they all stayed? "Just get out!" Robin finds himself shouting, really shouting, and it is freeing, even with the stab of embarrassment that comes from Jamal's mildly surprised look.
Then there is relief, because Jamal gives Candy a look when she is about to protest again, and in some miracle she listens to him, and they get up, yes, they are leaving, and then they are gone, and Robin feels himself breath.
They aren't all gone, though.
"I lied," he finally mutters to Shell, because though he'd rather keep silent, he can't. He glance at him out of the corner of his eye. "You get out, too."
"Like hell," Shell snaps. "If you think I'm gonna show up and fucking sit around here for hours and then just leave because you asked nicely, you're even more of a bloody idiot than I remembered."
That is reasonable, Robin supposes somewhere in the recesses of his mind where a voice scarily like this Jamal's is sitting in utter calm. But the rest of him is clamouring to beat the shit out of Shell, throw him out the window, and then do something drastic with whatever is left of him.
"Fine, then," he snaps. "Make your point and go." It would be so much simpler, easier, quieter, when Shell was gone.
Shell is standing now. He is shifting, and then he is laughing, almost helplessly. His hand rubs the back of his neck and Robin isn't watching him. "That's the problem, isn't it?" he says. He isn't yelling, for some reason. "It's your point to make."
"My--" Robin is charged with fury that sparked from nowhere, making him curl his hands into fists until his nails cut crescents into his palms, making him feel trapped in this room that is too small. "Mine, huh? You dare come in here and tell me that it's me?" He hasn't stopped talking, but he's not sure what he's saying, yelling, because there's a hoarse roaring in his ears, and all he can think of is how satisfying it is to see Shell's face close with real, true anger, not the fake kind he likes to tote around. Any other attention he has is focused inside him to force the wolf down as it howls
"You're a real piece of work," Shell snarls when Robin can't find any more words. "You know what your problem is? You're completely batshit."
"Like you can accuse--"
"At least I'm fucking consistent!" the werecat adds, voice rising to match Robin's. "One minute you're completely in denial, and then you're all over me - and now what? What the hell sparked this?!"
"All--" Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him, just-- "That's none of your fucking business," Robin snaps, feeling as if he is venturing into Shell's territory with that word and hating it. "I told you to get out!"
"Like hell--” Shell begins, but then he stops and seems to deflate. For a long moment there is silence, broken only by two sets of lungs, two chests heaving for air. Then finally, someone speaks again.
"I don't know why I ever bothered with this." Shell has turned around, facing the wall, the door. "I knew how you were. I was so fucking stupid."
The anger is gone. Suddenly, Robin can feel nothing but self-pity, and he doesn't know why.
"Just get out," he finally says meekly. Shell looks at him, and for the first time Robin can't read his expression.
He doesn't say anything as he lets himself out. He doesn't even slam the door behind him. Finally, Robin is alone.
And somehow it doesn't feel good at all. It feels more like he should be fixing this somehow, but that isn't going to happen. Robin knows it, anyway, and it's not like there's any "this" to fix. Robin feels like he doesn't know the himself of last week who could look himself in the eye while steeped in this mess. He doesn't know how he could have let this happen. Shell said they shouldn't have bothered, and Robin can find himself in the person who entertained the idea of it. Fighting like cats and dogs, he thinks miserably, and justly so. He looks around and the apartment is still empty. It's normal.
Outside, Shell is calling himself a hundred types of idiot, navigating the corridors in a sort of zigzag because every so often he has to stop and bang his fist against a wall in frustration. It doesn't make for a quick descent, which he tells himself doesn't have anything to do with the idea that someone might come down from upstairs, looking for him. He thinks the walls are closing in on him.
When he does make it outside, it is to find Jamal and Candy waiting expectantly. Jamal at least is perceptive enough to take stock of the situation by Shell's expression, but Candy has the gall to ask, "So, how'd it go?" She smiles like it's damned Christmas or her birthday, and Shell is suddenly furious, shaking.
"What do you fucking think?!" he shouts. "How the hell did you expect it go?"
Authors: iambickilometer and scully_trustno1
Characters: Robin, Shell, Jamal, Candy
They won't go they won't go they won't go--
"You're wearing a hole in the floor," says Shell sourly, and he says it because he is here, without intention of getting out, of leaving, and just watching him, watching him, along with them, and they are here, and he can feel the hairs on his neck prickling as their eyes follow his every motion, flicking, hearing his heart and the tap-tap-tapping of his feet--
"Look, you need to get out now!" Robin finds himself almost shouting, because he knows that enough was enough, they have made their fucking point, all right, and it's none, none, none of their fucking business, and if they could just--
"Nope!" she says, florescent-haired, wide-eyed, bushy-tailed, maddening. "Not until--"
"All right, yes, fine, you've won, we'll talk, but get out!" They are here, their presence seeping into the very foundation of wood and plaster and insulation until they would never, never be out, until nothing would be--
"But--"
"I think we agree on this," Shell says. Even though Robin sees him glance towards him, he doesn't look up. Shell's eyes narrow and flick back to Candy. Robin knows, from the arch of shoulders and the too-straight spine and the click-click-clicking of fingernails on armrest that Shell has moved beyond irritated at the girl. "Leave."
She begins to pout. "But--"
What if she refused to go? What if they all stayed? "Just get out!" Robin finds himself shouting, really shouting, and it is freeing, even with the stab of embarrassment that comes from Jamal's mildly surprised look.
Then there is relief, because Jamal gives Candy a look when she is about to protest again, and in some miracle she listens to him, and they get up, yes, they are leaving, and then they are gone, and Robin feels himself breath.
They aren't all gone, though.
"I lied," he finally mutters to Shell, because though he'd rather keep silent, he can't. He glance at him out of the corner of his eye. "You get out, too."
"Like hell," Shell snaps. "If you think I'm gonna show up and fucking sit around here for hours and then just leave because you asked nicely, you're even more of a bloody idiot than I remembered."
That is reasonable, Robin supposes somewhere in the recesses of his mind where a voice scarily like this Jamal's is sitting in utter calm. But the rest of him is clamouring to beat the shit out of Shell, throw him out the window, and then do something drastic with whatever is left of him.
"Fine, then," he snaps. "Make your point and go." It would be so much simpler, easier, quieter, when Shell was gone.
Shell is standing now. He is shifting, and then he is laughing, almost helplessly. His hand rubs the back of his neck and Robin isn't watching him. "That's the problem, isn't it?" he says. He isn't yelling, for some reason. "It's your point to make."
"My--" Robin is charged with fury that sparked from nowhere, making him curl his hands into fists until his nails cut crescents into his palms, making him feel trapped in this room that is too small. "Mine, huh? You dare come in here and tell me that it's me?" He hasn't stopped talking, but he's not sure what he's saying, yelling, because there's a hoarse roaring in his ears, and all he can think of is how satisfying it is to see Shell's face close with real, true anger, not the fake kind he likes to tote around. Any other attention he has is focused inside him to force the wolf down as it howls
"You're a real piece of work," Shell snarls when Robin can't find any more words. "You know what your problem is? You're completely batshit."
"Like you can accuse--"
"At least I'm fucking consistent!" the werecat adds, voice rising to match Robin's. "One minute you're completely in denial, and then you're all over me - and now what? What the hell sparked this?!"
"All--" Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him, just-- "That's none of your fucking business," Robin snaps, feeling as if he is venturing into Shell's territory with that word and hating it. "I told you to get out!"
"Like hell--” Shell begins, but then he stops and seems to deflate. For a long moment there is silence, broken only by two sets of lungs, two chests heaving for air. Then finally, someone speaks again.
"I don't know why I ever bothered with this." Shell has turned around, facing the wall, the door. "I knew how you were. I was so fucking stupid."
The anger is gone. Suddenly, Robin can feel nothing but self-pity, and he doesn't know why.
"Just get out," he finally says meekly. Shell looks at him, and for the first time Robin can't read his expression.
He doesn't say anything as he lets himself out. He doesn't even slam the door behind him. Finally, Robin is alone.
And somehow it doesn't feel good at all. It feels more like he should be fixing this somehow, but that isn't going to happen. Robin knows it, anyway, and it's not like there's any "this" to fix. Robin feels like he doesn't know the himself of last week who could look himself in the eye while steeped in this mess. He doesn't know how he could have let this happen. Shell said they shouldn't have bothered, and Robin can find himself in the person who entertained the idea of it. Fighting like cats and dogs, he thinks miserably, and justly so. He looks around and the apartment is still empty. It's normal.
Outside, Shell is calling himself a hundred types of idiot, navigating the corridors in a sort of zigzag because every so often he has to stop and bang his fist against a wall in frustration. It doesn't make for a quick descent, which he tells himself doesn't have anything to do with the idea that someone might come down from upstairs, looking for him. He thinks the walls are closing in on him.
When he does make it outside, it is to find Jamal and Candy waiting expectantly. Jamal at least is perceptive enough to take stock of the situation by Shell's expression, but Candy has the gall to ask, "So, how'd it go?" She smiles like it's damned Christmas or her birthday, and Shell is suddenly furious, shaking.
"What do you fucking think?!" he shouts. "How the hell did you expect it go?"