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[She sits, as ordered. Settles her hands on her knees first, shifts awkwardly and ends up pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs and just

watching him

waiting.]

[Wait for it... Wait for it...

Hands still clasped in front of him on his knees, he elbows her in the arm, completely deadpan.]

You're stupid.

[There. Simple, right? Might wanna add to that statement, he guesses.]

Did you really think we'd wanna throw you out of an airlock?

Edited 2012-09-16 07:58 (UTC)

[No, she gets it; there's a sound halfway between a sigh and a laugh escaping her as he continues, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter or maybe tears of relief that aren't quite coming.}

Maybe. I wouldn't blame you.

[She ducks her head down towards her knees, hair in her face, head shaking.]

Something else showed up here that helped cause that stuff, I don't know that I'd be as kind as you are. Not that I don't appreciate it.

[He reaches over and takes her shoulder, gently squeezing.]

You're just as much a victim of that place as we are, no matter what you say otherwise. [He furrows his brow, looking exasperated. Smiling just a little, even if it was hard to. But the smile softens, fades out as he looks across the room.] You're not the only one the cult fucked with... and, uh. You're not the only person they've tried to sacrifice.

[Well, now that that was out...]

So I can understand how it feels, for them to try to use you like that. Definitely not as bad as yours—and... and Alessa's. But you're not alone, and I can't hate you for what they tried to do.

[That gentle touch is enough to wring a smile out of her. Because you don't go around giving monsters shoulder-squeezes, right? And no matter how good a job Harry did of raising her to see herself as Heather first and something created by the powers of that place second, she really wasn't sure anyone else would see it that way. She can't keep it up when he finishes, though.]

You too? Oh, Alex. Is there anything they didn't try to take from you?

[Because... well, it's not quite that she feels responsible for the cult, but she does sometimes wonder how differently things might have gone if she'd taken the opportunity to... you know, do a little smiting.]

Seriously, fuck those guys.

[He just shakes his head at all of this. They fucked everything up for Heather, and she was going to try to accept some of that blame? No way. He wasn't about to allow that. Even if she wanted to say it until she was blue in the face.]

Yeah...

[He agreed with that much. Most everyone on the Tranquility would agree.

Fuck those guys.]

The truth is... I mean—the full story is, my parents were a part of that cult. I—I didn't really have any clue until everything went to hell. Their forefathers founded our town—four families, originally. In return for leaving Silent Hill, they swore to a pact that every fifty years, they'd sacrifice one of their children. One from each family.

[He looks up at her. If they were going to get these things off their chests, it might as well be now.]

The people before us fucked up. Not us.

[... Sorta. He still harbors some guilt about what happened, but he still blames the fucks who'd agree to something so awful.]

Sins of the father, and all. Jesus. How could -- I mean, I know Silent Hill was messed up, believe me, but how could it be worse than killing your own kid? How could anything?

[It comes back to Harry, of course -- everything does, for Heather, sooner or later -- but there's nothing more important than family, whether it's the one you're born into or the kind you build around you. Nothing.

That kinda puts you right in the shit when the only family you've ever had is taken away from you, but that doesn't negate the sentiment, right?]

They tried to get me back when I was seven. Somebody from the cult tracked us down and tried to take me. I mean, I didn't know then that's why he was there, but...

[She shrugs.]

Dad killed him. I know he never thought of it this way, but it ruined his life. We had to pack everything up and keep moving. I mean, I guess you can write anywhere, but I don't remember him ever having a girlfriend. Or friends, even. He gave everything up to keep me safe and all I had to do was go blonde and change my name.

I'm sorry you didn't have that, Alex. I know it's not my fault, but I'm sorry anyway.

It's alright... Them distancing themselves from me like they did made it easier for me to do the same. So I guess... even if they did it so they wouldn't feel as much killing me, it still worked out in my favor. In some fucked up ironic way.

[He leans back on the wall, sighing through his nose.]

It's good, that your father did what he did. I can't imagine what that place could've been like, if he hadn't, what coulda' happened. It's not like summoning a god wouldn't have some crazy consequences, right?

[A beat.]

And we wouldn't have you to pester and bug and mope around with.

I'm just sorry that it fucked up your lives like that. Every kid... deserves a good home. Some place they feel like they belong to.

[Alex had been looking for that place for most of his life, too... A big, solid house and there was no real heart in it... So much for dad's dogtags, huh? He's starting to wonder why the hell he wears them anymore.]

[You don't have to imagine, Alex. She'll tell you, because she is making the best decisions right now.]

It wouldn't just have been Silent Hill. Not if it turned out like they thought it would. It was supposed to cleanse the world with fire, wipe out all the unbelievers and everything we've done to fuck the place up so Paradise could take its place. 'course, it probably wouldn't have gone how they thought. You look at the paintings in the churches and all the pictures of god, she's like... this beautiful girl. Pretty red dress, this kind, sweet face. It wasn't like that at all. It was terrifying. I don't know if that's just because I made sure it wasn't born properly, but it's hard to imagine what I saw would have turned out okay if I hadn't taken a dose of demon Plan B in time.

[Okay, Mason, reel it in. The guy's been nice enough to hear you out, accept you for what you are, and tell you his own background in return. don't pay him back by scaring the bejeezus out of him.]

Dad was all the home I ever needed. No matter where we were, he made sure we had our little traditions. Like we always sat down to dinner together, even if it was just takeout in a crappy motel.

Maybe... I don't know, maybe this is weird. But we're all here, and... maybe we could be that for each other.

[Heather, please. It takes a lot to surprise him anymore. Considering he fought reincarnations (or fuck if he knows) of murdered children? Anything is possible. Anything. You could have told him pigeons were actually lords and rulers of the free world and he'd nod casually.

... Alright, maybe not that. But there aren't as many limitations as there really damn well should be.

He looks away from her though, at that... offer? Idea? He's not sure. But while he wants nothing more than to have something like that, his stomach twists and he thinks maybe it scares him. He clears his throat.]

... I don't know.

[Genuinely unsure, too. Does she mean, like... something like a family? What if something goes wrong, what if I do something wrong, what if I'm not good enough, what if it all happens again, what if I don't deserve any of that-

He half-laughs, but it's kinda' pathetic and mostly sad in hindsight.]

I didn't do so good at any of that before. Tried for a long time, but... Never really panned out.

[For, uh. Obvious reasons, now.]

[Jesus H Tapdancing Christ, Heather. The guy's just told you his actual family was involved in a cult and planned to sacrifice him, of course he's not going to want to play happy families with you. And it's not fair to ask people to try to fill that gap anyway. She rubs a hand through the back of her hair, huffs an attempt at a laugh.]

Yeah, you're right. It was -- I don't know, there's too much happening right now. It's turning me into a total girl. But I'm here. You know, if you ever need me, or whatever.

[He nudges her with his shoulder again.]

Hey. Nothing girly about wanting a family. I--maybe I'll. I don't know, I'll figure my head out, before I do anything. It's like a tornado hit whatever's in my brain, thanks to these last few years; just gotta sort it all out. But don't ever feel bad for offering someone something like a family, understand?

[He sits back and sighs.]

Since you were honest with me--can I tell you something? I mean, Murphy knows about some of it... [Annie did, too...] It's kinda heavy, but hey. I figure if we're talking about people trying to revive gods and cults and all that bullshit... I mean, I feel like it's something you should know, if you're willing to stick around me.

[Y'know. His time in a mental hospital. No biggie. Nope...]

[She nods. Appreciates his explanation all the more for the fact that he doesn't owe her one -- his feelings are totally understandable. When he continues, she rests her chin on her folded hand.]

You trying to outdo me, Shepherd? I should warn you, it takes a lot to rattle me these days.

[But it doesn't feel right to be glib about it, not when he's been so good about what she's told him. Not when he's opening up to her.]

Of course you can.

[He snorts.]

Dunno about outdoing anybody, but... If we're gonna be a big fucked-up group...

[He almost wants to laugh. Instead, he just scrubs his face with a hand and considers how to even begin. Heather wasn't a therapist. Heather was a survivor of that place. She got it. But this was... something different altogether. This wasn't Silent Hill that hurt him--it was the world. outside it.

He clasps the dog tags in his hand as he speaks.]

Before I came here... Before Silent Hill, I was institutionalized. Spent the last four years in a mental hospital, not even knowing I was there... Something happened back home and... I broke down completely. To tell the truth, I only just remembered everything that happened there.

[He leans into his arms, ears and face a little flustered. It's embarrassing, telling someone he'd been all wrong in the head. And may very well still be; he wasn't sure anymore.]

That place fucked me up really bad. So, I just...

[Words. Use them, Alex. He sighs.]

I'm scared that I might lose it, someday. I don't know... my brain's probably putty by now.

I don't wanna cause anyone trouble.

Edited 2012-10-06 10:14 (UTC)

[Her first instinct is to challenge that. He's not crazy. She's been through the hospital, read enough patient notes and collected enough journal fragments and seen enough terrifying love letters to know crazy, and Alex Shepherd isn't it.

But more than anything, she believes that people can change. That who you were doesn't dictate who you are or who you will be. So when he elaborates and curls over himself she aches for him, and her hand hovers tentatively at his shoulder before she decides to hell with it and lets it settle.]

We won't let you. We'll watch you and we'll make sure you're okay, and if something seems wrong we'll make sure you get help before anything happens.

And it won't be trouble, Alex. It'll just be friends looking out for each other.

I'd appreciate that a lot.

[Like her, he's immediately relieved when the other doesn't give a shit. Maybe he should expect it, but. He's told very few people about it. He's ashamed to think he'd ever went out of his mind like he had, even if there were a lot of years building up to that meltdown; he doesn't really figure in that it was long overdue.]

Just... wanted to give you the memo. That you have weird tastes in friends.

And since we both have a hate-hate relationship with the medbay. Even just sneaking in there to steal some pain pills freaks me out a little.

Hate-hate relationships are kinda my thing. Or at least hate-pretending to hate because it's easier.

[she has a hand on his shoulder still, and he hasn't flinched or moved away, so she squeezes. Like her dad did when he called her sport, like Tillman did when he called her kiddo.]

You know you don't have to steal them, right? I mean, it's gross in there, but some of the staff are pretty cool. A guy named Rory brought me a top-up on my sleeping pills once. And John Watson, he's good people. Takes a lot to throw him and he doesn't talk about you or try the whole comforting routine.

[Hate-pretending to hate. That makes him laugh faintly. Not really for any good reason—reminds him of some fucked up plot twists back home he some days wishes he could forget. But he's at least kept away from that line of thought by the mention of the medical staff. He considers it.]

... Guess if you say so. Don't think I'll need any pain pills for a while, anyway; I don't use 'em unless I really need to, so I've got plenty to last me.

But I'll drop one of them a line, if they can help out with... hospitalphobia. Whatever the hell it's called.

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