You're a Little Late; I'm already torn.
Who: Jilly Coppercorn & Willow Rosenburg
What: Picking up the pieces
When: Late Monday Night
Where: Their room (1314)
Rating: PG
Jilly wasn't sure how long it had been since she'd slept. Eyes rimmed with red, part of her brain fumbled to work out how many hours it had been as her hand hesitated over the door, not quite knocking.
For two weeks she'd stayed in town and she'd watched. She'd hunted down every contact she had and she'd even roped Crowley into helping her. And, despite the silence, she'd known for each and every second that she was making the wrong choice. She'd never doubted that Legato needed to be brought to justice. But he'd positioned everything so perfectly that, for a little over a week, she'd believed she had no choice but to keep silent.
No choice.
She'd let him control her and, in doing so, she'd betrayed the very people she'd promised to help. Bruce. The Doctor. The townspeople.
It didn't matter that she'd done it for them. It didn't matter that her intentions were good because, as Crowley could have pointed out, the road to hell was paved with those intentions. What mattered was that she'd given him an extra two weeks to steal people from their homes, standing as a silent accomplice to their murders.
She didn't know whether any more had been taken, but that hardly changed anything now. She'd let them down in the worst way possible.
She almost hadn't come back to the castle, but being alone in her hotel room in town was only making things worse. Her conversation with the Doctor and with Karen just kept spinning painfully around in her head, her own self-accusations and Legato's terrifying monotone mixing in until she thought she might go crazy if she stayed there. She needed someone to talk to.
She'd come back to Willow because she was her best friend. The witch had known her as long as anyone in the castle had, aside from Crowley and Billy, and - technically - this was home. Willow would be safe. She would listen. She would help her sort it out and make sense of it... as much as was possible, anyway.
But part of her thought that safe wasn't what she deserved. She should be confessing to the other Doctors. She should be apologizing to Bruce and accepting the blame that was owed. She didn't deserve safe.
...She stared at the smooth wood of the door, debating walking away. But she let her shoulders slump in defeat. She didn't deserve safe...but right now she didn't have the energy for anything else. Eyes closing briefly, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
She was home.
What: Picking up the pieces
When: Late Monday Night
Where: Their room (1314)
Rating: PG
Jilly wasn't sure how long it had been since she'd slept. Eyes rimmed with red, part of her brain fumbled to work out how many hours it had been as her hand hesitated over the door, not quite knocking.
For two weeks she'd stayed in town and she'd watched. She'd hunted down every contact she had and she'd even roped Crowley into helping her. And, despite the silence, she'd known for each and every second that she was making the wrong choice. She'd never doubted that Legato needed to be brought to justice. But he'd positioned everything so perfectly that, for a little over a week, she'd believed she had no choice but to keep silent.
No choice.
She'd let him control her and, in doing so, she'd betrayed the very people she'd promised to help. Bruce. The Doctor. The townspeople.
It didn't matter that she'd done it for them. It didn't matter that her intentions were good because, as Crowley could have pointed out, the road to hell was paved with those intentions. What mattered was that she'd given him an extra two weeks to steal people from their homes, standing as a silent accomplice to their murders.
She didn't know whether any more had been taken, but that hardly changed anything now. She'd let them down in the worst way possible.
She almost hadn't come back to the castle, but being alone in her hotel room in town was only making things worse. Her conversation with the Doctor and with Karen just kept spinning painfully around in her head, her own self-accusations and Legato's terrifying monotone mixing in until she thought she might go crazy if she stayed there. She needed someone to talk to.
She'd come back to Willow because she was her best friend. The witch had known her as long as anyone in the castle had, aside from Crowley and Billy, and - technically - this was home. Willow would be safe. She would listen. She would help her sort it out and make sense of it... as much as was possible, anyway.
But part of her thought that safe wasn't what she deserved. She should be confessing to the other Doctors. She should be apologizing to Bruce and accepting the blame that was owed. She didn't deserve safe.
...She stared at the smooth wood of the door, debating walking away. But she let her shoulders slump in defeat. She didn't deserve safe...but right now she didn't have the energy for anything else. Eyes closing briefly, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
She was home.