Macglynn whispers: And the haze lifts, replaced by an incredibly upset string of self-deprecation and worry and where is my waifu what have I done.
Macglynn has slumped down the wooden pillar. He looks... well, stressed, to put it lightly.
Senkha slides down against the beam wearily, clutching her left arm to her chest. Her head has stopped bleeding, but blood has dried all down the left side of it, down her neck and to her chest. She looks over at Oliver.
Senkha says: Feel better?
Macglynn says: Sure.
Senkha -very- stiffly draws her knees up to her chest. Her smile from a few moments before has faded and her chin is trembling. "...I don't know what I did wrong, love, but I'm s-sorry."
Macglynn breaks. "No. Don't apol'gize t'me. Don't." He looks at her pleadingly. This is my fault, I was an idiot, I didn't listen. His thoughts are as plain as his features.
Senkha is actually crying in earnest now, her throat clenching shut. Her hands are shaking, too. She reaches out for Oliver, breath coming in hitched starts and restarts.
Macglynn curls his arms around her, pulling her close and squeezing the hand that isn't mangled. "Ah'm sorry," he whispers. "Ah'm so sorry."
Senkha leans against him, shaking, pressing her bruised side against him for his coldness. She tries to hold it in, but after a few minutes, she lets out a long, loud wail of anguish that turns into a scream. She's clutching at him with her uninjured hand face buried against his chest as she continues to scream her frustration, fear, pain, anger, and everything she's felt the past two days. It all replays for her and for Oliver as well; there's nothing she can do to stop it.
Macglynn holds her. He cringes are the memories are forced back onto him, but he doesn't close himself off. He lets her vent, in whatever way she can. He whispers continued assurances and apologies, just letting her scream her frustrations.
Senkha's screams eventually turn into sobs and those eventually dissolve into nothing but shaking. Once or twice, she ineffectively pounds against his chest with her uninjured hand and just once, she pounds against his chest with her injured hand to feel some outward pain, but finally, she quiets enough to say, "I can't -do- it."
Macglynn lets her beat at his chest. A double reason, really. He wants her to get her frustraion out, and also if he could feel it he'd totally deserve it. "Yer jus' about th' strongest person Ah ever met."
Senkha shakes her head. She's stopped beating against his chest and is just resting there, right hand clinging to him, left hanging uselessly. The screaming caused her wound to open again. "I can't be strong anymore, Oliver. I can't do it. I can't carry anymore."
Macglynn says: Whut d'you think y'should do.
Senkha laughs weakly, shaking her head. "What -can- I do? I can't go back in time and change what happened. I can't stop Ludo from killing himself or Dizzy from getting herself killed. I can't bring Riley back."
Senkha says: I can't bring Vesiel back either. I can't undo your words or the pain they caused me. I can't heal my hand or my head.
Senkha says: I don't know -how- to feel less close to Marius, and I don't know if I want to. I can't fix the city. I can't -do- anything. I...
Macglynn says: Ha' many 'a them things is really up ta you?
Senkha finally smiles wryly up at Oliver; there's no mirth in her smile, nor happiness in her eyes, just a weariness like she's been carrying the world around for a week. "None of it. But that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt me."
Macglynn says: We can't change what's happened. But we can look forward an ha' t'make 'em better. Senkha, th' past two years 'a my life been nuthin' but shit.
Macglynn says: Ah'd 'a prob'ly died from stress by na' if'n Ah wasn't a'ready dead.
Senkha looks up at Oliver blankly. She stares at his missing cheek and touches the exposed bone. "Do you know why I didn't want to see Dizzy?" she asks after a moment.
Macglynn says: ... No. Ah wasn't much thinkin'.
Senkha continues to touch the exposed bone thoughtfully. "She hurt me. No, she didn't mean to. Yes, she was scared. Yes, it's understandable. But I'm hurt and I'm angry, and I was afraid that when I saw her, I would hurt her the way I've hurt you before."
Macglynn says: ... Y'might 'a said somethin'.
Senkha drops her hand, looking anguished again. "I tried. Oliver, I tried, but you were so -angry- because I wasn't reacting the way you wanted me to. You didn't hear me at all."
Macglynn winces again. His thoughts make it obvious he considers the whole situation his fault and, really (for once), it is. "... Please tell me what Ah can do."
Senkha leans her head forward, resting against his. The blood from her open wound has slowed to a trickle, hooray. She takes a moment to answer the question. "Don't leave me," she finally says. "I thought you'd left me. I was going to..." She doesn't finish.
To Macglynn: ...kill myself and see if death was less unkind.
Macglynn just hugs her. Both arms around her, holding her tight. He shakes his head, though what about is anyone's guess. Well, okay, it's her guess because she can read his brane, but that's not the point. "Anythin' else. Anythin' Ah didn' plan on a'ready."
Macglynn whispers: His first thought is quickly, quickly pushed aside-- But then I'd be alone.
Senkha laughs mirthlessly, muttering something about how it's a good thing he came back, then, how anyone else would've left him for this. "We need to figure out what to do with Dizzy. But I can't be the one to punish her. I don't -trust- myself."
To Macglynn: She really is racking her brain to think of SOME way he can make it up to her, but what can -he- do that she can't? There's nothing. At the same time, the pain he caused her tonight is pretty fresh; she's trying very hard to forgive him, but it hurts.
Macglynn whispers: Oddly, he simply closes himself off again. Oliver himself is pretty terrible at defenses, so she could probably dig if she wished, but unless she forced it, his mind is blank to her.
Macglynn says: ... Ah'm reminded.
Macglynn says: Senkha.
Macglynn says: Ah think our daughter--
Macglynn says: ...
Macglynn creases his brow. How does one explain this.
Macglynn says: Ah think Dizzy might be some kind 'a shadow adept.
To Macglynn: She does force it; there's a bit of spite behind it. She's earned this much at least.
Senkha says: ...what.
Macglynn looks away from her and rests the side of his head on the wall beside him. She's forcing it. No, go away. "She-- Ah found 'er, in th' rocks. She had a barrier 'a-- 'a Shadow."
To Macglynn: Senkha forces harder. Let me IN.
Senkha frowns her concern for a moment, but then shrugs. "We can figure that out once she's done being grounded for the next twenty years."
Macglynn 's brow remains furrowed, the trouble in his thoughts outwardly apparent. "That don't bother you none." It's a statement, not a question.
Macglynn whispers: He doesn't let her. No, go away.
Senkha just sorts of stares at Oliver. She's not really reacting to what he's saying outloud right now. "Let me in. You owe me that much, Oliver. You've been closed off to me -all fucking night-."
Macglynn continues to look away from her. "Nuthin' import'n, jus' want a bit t'm'self t'night."
Senkha looks about ready to scream at him, but she takes a deep, calming breath and shakes her head. "Oliver, -please-. What are you hiding from me?"
Macglynn says: ... Senkha, y'know sometahms, when y'take a walk t'think things through? It's t'get away from people, an' think. A hunnerd miles apart, we're still t'gether. Ah love you. But... Ah need t' think.
Macglynn still looks away from her.
To Macglynn: She pushes, much harder this time, and sharper. She'll take it by force if he won't give it to her. Don't make me be alone tonight--I don't want to be alone any more.
Senkha takes his face in both her hands. "You left me -alone- tonight, Oliver. Completely alone. I had to carry every. Fucking. Piece. Of fear and anger and sadness, knowing that my husband was angry with me for feeling it."
Senkha says: You are choosing a -horrible- night to want to be alone.
Macglynn whispers: Guilt. Crippling guilt. Knowledge of mistakes and the self-loathing that follows, and the fear that the damage is irreparable. His mind has taken the opportunity to somehow relate everything that's happened to him. Regrets, mistakes. Shouldn't have tried being a normal human being. Should have stayed in the north. Not supposed to wotk like this. Should have ended it when Arthas fell, like you promised.
You stare Macglynn down.
She takes hold of his face with both her hands, the injured one screaming in protest, but she doesn't care, and crushes her lips against his, instantly pulling them into the dream. It doesn't matter that they're in the middle of Stormwind or that there are people here or any of those things. She's tearing at him, pressing against him desperately, quite insane. This is a crazy reaction to have to a husband's mind-crippling guilt. She doesn't care.
He pulls away from the kiss, sliding down the wall a bit. "Wh- what th' hell are you doin'? Senkha, y'gone fuckin' batshit."
"Could anyone really blame me if I had?" Senkha asks sadly, leaning closer to him, despite him pulling away. "Please."
--it's a genuine plea on her part. She needs this: to remember that she's alive, to remember that they're together, and more than that, she wants to feel the closeness with him again and never let it go.
"Senkha. We got a real world out there, an' it's..." He trails off, features softening and his shoulders sinking. He's silent for a few moments and then, head still rested against the wall, he breaks down into tears.
Well. It's not sex, but it's something. Senkha shifts very carefully so that she's straddling him and pulls his head against her shoulder, resting her cheek against his hair. "I love you," she whispers, their bond pulsing with strength. "No matter what's happened, no matter what you do or I do, you are mine. Always."
He cries into her shoulder as she pulls him close, shoulders heaving with short, choked breaths. It's probably a bizarre sight, but between the past few weeks and the intense guilt of what he's done, he doesn't really care. He repeatedly apologizes, shaking his head, again and again. All he can do is beg her forgiveness.
At this point, Senkha hasn't got any more tears to cry, and feeling Oliver's immense guilt over how he hurt her has dissolved any anger she had towards him. All she does is just hold him and press her lips against his hair, bringing the two of them closer and closer, mentally. "I forgive you. I will -always- forgive you," she whispers, and despite having no more tears to cry, her voice grows thick again.
He shakes his head. Why? -Why?- It's clear now why he was hiding from her; it's honestly kind of pathetic, and he knows it, but the intense hatred for himself and anything he does seems to not be something that will ever go away.
Ohhh, she can relate. Boy, can she relate. She gives a wry sort of laugh, though it comes out sloppy, thinking about nearly everything he said to night was entirely -true-, even if he was a dick for saying it. As to why, she closes her eyes, removing any remaining barriers between them, if he will let her. It's because of this. It's because she loves him, hell or high water. She doesn't always understand it herself. But he's hers, always.
He's stopped sobbing, for the most part, and now just rests his head on her shoulder, eyes screwed shut. His thoughts are conflicting with each other. I hurt you too much -- thank you for being here -- I'd have killed you if I stayed -- I could hurt Dizzy--
... I am yours.
Hatred, anger at himself, fear - and yet thanks. Thank you for loving, thank you for not running away, thank you for giving me this.
At this last, Senkha physically and mentally shivers; something about it shakes her. His thanks bring out a new crop of tears, though. She closes her eyes and lets them fall against his hair, simply amazed that he is thanking her for this. Mine, mine, mine, she thinks and rocks back and forth some with this, kissing him again and again.
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