Log: Ongoing

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

When; Late Night/Early morning after Zero-G Day
Rating; PG ( possibly PG-13? )
Characters; Scarab noh_dancer, Frederick Abberline bloodyuseless
Summary; Nightmares and Fairytales...nothing ever ends with 'Happily Ever After'
Log;

Running, but no matter how fast, He is always one step behind.

...That lurching gait, the noise the blade makes when dragged across concrete.

Blood.

Blood on the walls, Butterflies rising from the crimson trail of handprints.
Tiny butterflies with human faces.

Slipping, Falling....Crawling, Screaming.

He is catching up.

Raising the stained blade above the great helmet.

Screaming..Screaming

Keico awoke with a gasp and sat bolt upright, her hands instinctively covering the ragged scar that ran from her sternum to her navel.
Tears mingled with the cold sweat on her face, and as with so many nights in recent weeks, her chest hurt.
Whether it hurt from remembered injuries, or the cold knot of terror that squeezed the air from her body, she still couldn't decide, and agian true to form; she slipped silently from the bed she now shared with Frederick in order not to wake him.

Quickly and as quietly as she could, she made it to the bathroom just in time to get sick.

Christ...two hours since I passed out....

She splashed her face with cool water agian before regarding herself in the mirror.

They are getting worse...

She was so tired.
Tired of sleepless nights, and waking up in the wee hours of the morning feeling like ten kinds of hell.

On bare feet she went through the next steps of this nightly ritual, and made her way into the kitchen, pulled out a cup, spoon, and some tea bags. Not as good as the leaves, but she just wanted something warm to hold onto just now.
Taste was secondary.

Tea now steeping, she leaned heavily agianst the counter...and noticed her cigarettes had somehow settled on the floor near her feet when this latest curse day had ended.

" Damnitt", she muttered, and sank down to sit with her back to the counter.
She stared for a long time at the little battered pack, or rather, at the way her mangled hand couldn't hold onto it properly anymore.

In the silence only the hours before dawn can create, Keico put her head in her hands....
And Cried.

Comments

[bloodyuseless.livejournal.com]

Feigning sleep was easy, especially when the person sharing your bed was so distracted. Keico hadn't been herself - or at least what Frederick knew of her - ever since her 'death' at Pyramid Head's hands. He couldn't blame her, really. He didn't know exactly how he'd keep on going after that, but it wouldn't be without effect - and he knew how much nightmares and visions could torment your soul. But he'd had a lifetime to come to terms with them. She did not.

After some time spent deciding on a course of action and finding none suitable, Frederick got out of bed and padded quietly into the kitchen, pausing momentarily to watch her ... cry. He didn't know what to do - he didn't know how to comfort her with this. When women were upset, it tended to be something that he could assist with by punching someone else in the face or something equally masculine and hotheaded, but ... it might help, but he wouldn't be the one to do it. Destroying Pyramid Head was completely out of his grasp.

At a loss as to what else to do, Frederick sat down on the cold kitchen floor next to her, and pulled Keico into his arms.

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

The tears just wouldn't stop...

She couldn't even really say why they had chosen this particular moment to begin, but Keico had known this would happen if she were to ever start crying.
It wasn't self-pity, or grief over her fingers, or even the fear of Pyramid Head that had set off this slow, silent, out-pouring of emotion.
A dam may hold for thousands of years, but once it develops even jsut a small chink in it's walls, the deluge is inevitable.

Perhaps, even now, she didn't quite realize that the weakness in the carefully constructed mental armor that allowed her to close herself off, and shut down completely was now sitting right beside her..

For her; every emotion she felt had it's positive and negative side.
The negative, in thiscase, was the sheer weight of such long-forgotten sensations such as fear, sorrow, and most of all: guilt.
These negative emotions were sharp in thier newness.....thier intensity offset by another equally intensive emotion she had never experienced quite like this ever before:

Love.

Silly? Maybe.
But it is a fact proven time and agian throughout human history that we, as people, have little choice in whom we truly love.
The weight of the realization that she loved Frederick was a frightening moment in of itself, but this epiphany was followed shortly by an equally intense stab of sorrow, because it was all too clear that no matter how genuine her thoughts and feelings were; he had already been 'taken' before they ever met.

Oddly enough she didn't feel any sense of jealousy toward a woman long dead, but rather a sense of helplessness.
There was nothing to be done for these sensations, on both thier parts, no matter how she may want, and push for, otherwise.

All of this self-realization now resulted in her complete lack in awarenessfor her surroundings, so when she foundherself suddenly in Frederick's arms, she couldn'thelp the tiny noise of startlement, quickly followed by a fierce sense of shame at being caught at something, she felt to be, so blatantly weak.

" I'm sorry!" she gasped, " I was trying not to wake you..."
Swallowing what she could of the tears ( though the damage was done & he knew she had been crying no matter how she might want to deny it.

" Do you want some tea? I was making some, just now.."
It was a poor attempt at distraction, made all the less effective by her own arms' refusal to unwrap from his.

"I'm sorry. You weren't meant to see this..."

[bloodyuseless.livejournal.com]

"No tea," he murmured, and stood up, pulling her with him. She wasn't very heavy, and it was easy to take her back into the living room and settle them both on the sofa. The puppy was curled up on one end, but he'd expended too much energy the day before to do anything but look up at them sleepily and then lay his head back down.

"You don't have to hide this from me," he said quietly. "I'm not going to think any less of you because you're going through this."

[noh-dancer.livejournal.com]

She looked away, unsure of how to answer.

Did she try the truth, and see him regard her with uneasy suspicion, or a comfortible lie and go on being unable to sleep,and torn up over a man whom she dared not let in on this fact?

"They are just dreams" she said, sounding even less convinced than he had.
Irritably she swiped at her eyes as though they were somehow betraying her deeply by continuing to cry.

" I have seen some pretty fucked up things in my time, " she began with a sigh, after sitting under his silent regard long enough that she felt silly not speaking. " Nothing ever used to bother me like this...Not death, and certainly not pain.
Even if it was my own..."

She trailed off and glanced up. He simply sat, waiting patiently for her to continue or to stop. Her choice..

Silently she reached up to push a lock of hair from his face, but then let her fingertips linger in order to memorize the lines.
Everything seemed easier when she was touching him.

Can't live with you, can't live without you....Eh Frederick?

She let herself stare for a while, heedless of the fact that the tears had subsided with Abberline's appearence in the kitchen.
What was it about him that could so easily soothe her?
...So easily make her feel like all else was secondary to curling up around him like a cat....

" He doesn't stop", she said. Choosing to go on with her explanation at an odd interval because she wasn't sure if she would be capable later.
" No matter what I do, he doesn't stop.....He is looking for me,but no to hurt me.
He wants to hurt those around me & teach me a lesson" She stopped and looked away as images of Alex with a slit throat danced through her head.
She knew that these were probably her mind's way of punishing itself for thegrave sin of caring for someone who had enough sense to keep her at arms length.
She was a walking catastrophy after all.....