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15 // video // in which it's hard to know where to start
[ The narration will be collapsing into bed pronto, but let's get this posted while it can at least pretend that it's still Wednesday night.
Alex woke up in a foul-smelling bathroom, surrounded by rubble and his own dried blood, and remembered everything. Things he'd said. Things he'd thought. Things he'd done.
And his death.
His room was close by. Eventually, when he felt able to move, he went there. He found clothes that weren't torn and brittle and stained that dark brown-red. Now the feed flicks on without his realising it, to show him sitting on the floor in his darkened room, back against the foot of his bed, arms around his knees, staring at nothing. Behind him and to the right, the bank of camcorders is a quiet silhouette, one of the recording lights finally blinking again.
At one point, he lifts his hand and moves it over his face, his completely human face. Then he lowers the arm and is still again.
The feed times out after about ten minutes. ]
((ooc: only the stuff after "the feed flicks on" is visible on the monitors; the rest was for continuity.))
Alex woke up in a foul-smelling bathroom, surrounded by rubble and his own dried blood, and remembered everything. Things he'd said. Things he'd thought. Things he'd done.
And his death.
His room was close by. Eventually, when he felt able to move, he went there. He found clothes that weren't torn and brittle and stained that dark brown-red. Now the feed flicks on without his realising it, to show him sitting on the floor in his darkened room, back against the foot of his bed, arms around his knees, staring at nothing. Behind him and to the right, the bank of camcorders is a quiet silhouette, one of the recording lights finally blinking again.
At one point, he lifts his hand and moves it over his face, his completely human face. Then he lowers the arm and is still again.
The feed times out after about ten minutes. ]
((ooc: only the stuff after "the feed flicks on" is visible on the monitors; the rest was for continuity.))
no subject
Right. His door is locked. He made sure of it when he came back to his room - even though he knows by now that locks, in this place, are no more than a sugar pill.
It seems too much to hope that she'd forgive him. What if she's just here to make sure he's not... not dangerous any more?
He's been compiling a list that's similar to Sofia's, and it's still spinning in his head as he pulls himself upright and heads for the door, his movements uncomfortable, trying to slip into some kind of routine that he doesn't have to think about. It differs from hers, though, in the important detail that it's almost entirely critical.
What if she's here to tell him to go to hell?
Alex wishes he could just act like the whole thing never happened. And sometimes that's doable. But you can't walk up to someone you've treated like that and pretend it didn't happen, not if you want to deserve their friendship.
He draws the bolts back. Feels like his body's just a suit he's wearing, unweildy and unfamiliar.
Opens the door. Swallows.
For all the time he's been thinking about this, he hasn't been able to come up with anything better than: ]
Sof', I'm really sorry.
[ ...in a tone which clearly doesn't expect to be shown leniency. ]
no subject
[ Pause.
Not to inspect him, no, she already watched the rest of the feed while walking here, and besides, she was fairly certain the mansion would push reset for him.
Pause... just so you can prepare to take notes on the next part. ]
Alex, you should know that it is impossible for me to accept an apology from you.
no subject
And he has to stop himself from making excuses, because he swore to himself he wouldn't: he's lost the right to make excuses to anyone. To Sof', to J, to Doctor Tam... the list is long.
The look on his face is, for a split second, the horror of having a fear confirmed. Then he shuts it down. He doesn't want her to see that. Doesn't want anyone to see that. The face goes taut, the eyes stoically blank. But the corners of his mouth keep dragging down, having to be pulled back into line.
He has to say something. He has to fight for this. There are other people he talks to, a couple other friends, but Sof's the only person he's really close to. ]
I... I want to make it up.
no subject
If I let you do that I would acknowledge your responsibility for events that were no more within your control than the actions of your mirror self or indeed those of a complete stranger.
[ She steps closer, maybe into the room, if there is not too much Alex in the door. To reiterate: ]
I cannot accept your apology, Alex, because to me you have nothing to apologise for.
no subject
He could laugh with relief. He could hug her. He could yell at her that why didn't she say that first instead of making him think he was dead to her. What he does is stare, and let out his breath in tiny bursts. ]
I...
[ It doesn't dissipate the guilt, though. His voice is quiet, a guilty confession. ]
I... I didn't even... stay and make sure you woke up.
no subject
There was nothing you could have done to influence the mansion's course and you had your own health to worry about.
[ And while we're on the subject of keeping a perfectly neutral tone while talking about things that clearly make Alex a horrible and selfish bastard: ]
I saw you talking to Sinclair on the transmission you sent from my room. Did you meet with him?
[ Understandably there is also a hint of concern in her voice. ]
no subject
His hand is shaking. He lowers it. ]
I just... want to forget about this.
no subject
She smiles warmly and gives it a small nod. ]
If that is what you want.
[ And in an apropos fashion she asks: ]
If you would prefer to have some time to yourself now...?
no subject
Hit by the urge to escape, he remembers how he dealt the last time he refused to acknowledge an ordeal. He mustn't repeat that mistake, even if it's taken him four whole years to realise that it was in some ways a mistake.
He mustn't let those three weeks become another Operator.
But he does have to be alone, he realises. Not just alone, away. Somewhere he didn't spend a lot of time before. This room's seen too much. Even the shower's a nasty trigger. Even sitting on his bed makes him remember being spliced, in a horribly confusing, smashed-together way that's all of the good bits as well as all of the bad. ]
...Yeah.
Just. Just for a while.
[ He prays she doesn't take it the wrong way. ]
no subject
[ Sigh. Goodbye Alex's couch. Goodbye, eye-pleasing fern. ]
Take care.