teleios rp for Sarah; backdated

[battlelined]

Jeremy sits on the bed in the room that Sarah and Jeremy have shared for weeks, months now. They've shared a room or a living space for over a year, and being in it now and knowing what he is going to say, it tears him apart to think of it. His stomach twists terribly. It's not normal nausea. It's something that burns as it twists, and it's not from the alcohol, which he couldn't drink enough of to get Vicki's words out of his head about what happened in another universe. At the start of his stay in Chicago, he'd just recovered from one death (the longest one of just a an hour tops maybe), and he wondered if he wasn't supposed to die then and there. Finding out he dies again for a long, long time. Finding out his sister dies and becomes a vampire and loses her humanity because he dies-- He doesn't know how to process that. How the fuck does anyone process that?

And he doesn't know how to do this. He doesn't know how he is going to say that he's moving out even if he was planning on doing it before Vicki told him anything, because he can sense she needs it.

The moment he reached out for Sarah and she pulled away (something that has never happened before, he's never made her feel that way before), he knew. He knew he'd destroyed something so-- so beautiful, and it's that moment that stays with him and how he can sense her need still for space. Jeremy knew. He knows her so utterly and completely well. Better than he's ever known anyone before, better than he knows himself, and he can tell she needs space, space from him, space from his betrayal, space from all of it. Maybe finding out what he did about the world that he left behind so many years ago, it's what reminded him... what he is. And he loves her too much to-- He loves her too much to not help make sure she gets what she needs especially after everything that he's done.

It doesn't mean it's easy though. He doesn't really know how he's going to get the words out when it feels like his stomach is on fire, and there's panic in his chest, and he doesn't understand anything anymore, but he's sitting and waiting for her.

Comments

[rattles]

Sarah only pulls back when Jeremy does, and she is able to catch a glimpse of that smile in time.

Her own smile grows warm, however aching, and her hand gingerly touches the side of his face once he's released that harsh breath. "That just means you can build new bridges," Sarah reminds him softly. It's important to her that he know it, that he be reminded of it. He is not alone. "Jeremy, you don't have to be a prisoner of your past. Neither of us do. We've been through way too much to ever be the people we were. You don't have to prove yourself to anyone, but if you feel you need to? Remember the man you are now."

Not the boy he once was.

He might've stumbled and reverted to those patterns for a little bit, but their growth came at such painful and beautiful costs that Sarah can't believe it was all for nothing. She has faith he'll find his way, that he'll get the tattoo under control, even if it's hard. When has it ever been easy?

[battlelined]

Jeremy closes his eyes as her hand touches the side of his face leaning into the feeling of it as his eyes burn further before he looks at her. His chest feels like it's on fire, and he swallows thickly through that emotion releasing a heavy breath at what she says.

"I'll try," Jeremy says achingly quietly, glancing down between them after a moment. He knows she is right. He lifts his gaze to meet her own again at what she says, shaking his head after a moment. "I don't want to be a prisoner of it. I don't want you to be either after everything we've been through, and I'll try to remember that too. I just don't have a... great opinion of that person either." Of whoever he is now.

It's just a lot that-- It's just a lot, and he doesn't really see himself in a kind light anymore.

It's not easy. Nothing about life is ever easy, and they both know that so intensely and painfully well. His arms are still wrapped around her, and his expression falters before he glances back. "I should... get my stuff together."

Not that he really has a lot but he should get... those things.

[rattles]

Her thumb slides gently, and slowly, down his cheek as he leans into her palm.

The tightness in her throat gathers further, and it's with reluctance she lets her hand fall back down. She smiles, albeit it is devoid of amusement. "That sounds familiar," she says lightly. Only two years ago, they didn't have a great opinion of the people they were, either. They learned, in very difficult ways, to find a road of acceptance.

Maybe that's what life is. Maybe life is just that you get to do it all over again.

She falters when he does, pressing her lips together. She fights back the burning that threatens to return, nodding as she finally takes a step back, untangling herself from him. It's a step she needs to take, but it is the hardest one she has ever taken.

"I'll... get out of your way."

She mostly means she'll give him space, like he is giving her space. She bows her head, giving his hand one last squeeze, and with a heaviness she can scarcely remember feeling, she lets her hand drop, and she turns to leave.

[battlelined]

Jeremy doesn't like who he was and he doesn't like who he is either.

He doesn't have a very strong, good opinion about any version of himself at the moment, catching her gaze with an ache in his own. It does sound familiar. Two years ago, they learned, and he is tired of learning, tired of doing it all over again each and every time.

There's already a painful, intense ache at her absence as her hand falls down and she untangles herself from him. His eyes burn when she takes that step away. They burn until he can't see through his own blurred vision, and he turns slightly as he shakes his head.

"You could never be in my way."

Jeremy mostly means he could never need space from her (that there is always a place in his life for her whatever that means, whatever that--). His hand squeezes hers back tightly (too tightly almost, clutching hold), and he breathes in sharp again as he watches their hands drop, watches her go, feels everything crash in again.

And that's that. That's life.