He can feel her indecision, and he’s hopeful for just a few precious seconds. She’s made so many strides these past months. Let go of so much anger and forged so many new bonds. Surely that means she can see how this could only end in tragedy. Then she’s unleashing the full force of her displeasure on him, and any hope of her rethinking his whole thing is completely crushed beneath the force of it.
It’s all about what you’ll do, isn’t it?
She’s right. That’s the hard thing about all of it really, that she’s right about so much. He hadn’t been there for her. Reyes was to blame, and no—despite what he says, he really doesn’t think Reyes is totally gone. And yes, even now, Jesse is making this about him to an extent. But that doesn’t stop anger from rising up to tangle with his fear—anger at her recklessness and her lack of regard for her own safety. She’d die for this, and she will unless he does something to stop it.
He meets her gaze with his own, steady and sad and fiery with determination.
“The whole reason I didn’t tell you is because I took you into account. You’re sure as hell not gonna do it for yourself. You think you’d be past this, throwing your good sense to the wind for revenge!”
He stops, breathing hard, eyes shining bright where the moonlight hits them. A wolf’s eyes. The anger is bringing it out more now, making him hyper-aware of the night around them and the danger on the wind. Slowly, he shakes his head and takes a purposeful step back away from her. The few feet now between them might as well be a mile. A canyon in a familiar desert they’ve both walked in before.
Always punish betrayal. One of her core rules, something to live by and something to die by.
She didn't want to die, despite all her reckless behavior that suggested otherwise, Ashe did not want to die. If it were any other situation she would have the ability to think with clarity about what she's facing. Only a little over an hour earlier they had been tucked into bed together, her soothing his nightmares away as he tried to regain his own clarity. Now they were standing apart and she can feel that distant. She knows this is the part where she sabotages what she has. It's like she's that child all over again scowling at the door when what she wants is to ask her parents to stay. But people didn't stay and so you had to hurt them before they could hurt you.
Without the fear of death being permanent, she's that much more of a loose canon because the consequence isn't as high. Spite is so intrinsically woven into her patterns of behavior that she'd practically die just to get back at him. While she's confused and lost, she can't get a strong enough grip on her rationality, though hopefully he'd feel her trying through their bond. This leaves her with nothing to turn to other than the same old tired patterns that leave her wounded and alone.
And with him standing there like that, eyes gleaming in the moonlight, he feels like a stranger. She doesn't want to lose the love or the romance of the foundation that they are slowly been building together. The future feels deeply uncertain and despite how badly she wants that future with him, she's a woman dedicated to the present.
Always punish betrayal. It rings louder in her head than her regret and desire to be proved wrong.
So punish betrayal she would. People would suffer that night, but she was already suffering and if she had to drag the entire town down with her, she would.
She walked back to the bike and grabbed Viper again, slinging the rifle over her shoulder and standing proud, once again at the the crossroads with him. "So what? You gonna lock me up? Throw away the key until I promise not to seek revenge? You know that isn't me. You can't watch me every second of every day."
She estimated the walk back, or the walk to wherever he was. She'd find him and if she had to walk to do it she would. "One way or another, I'm gonna teach that man that you don't fuck with Elizabeth Ashe. Sometimes people are just bad Jesse. I've never pretended to be otherwise, but that man who took you, somehow he convinced you his motives were pure and his heart was in the right place. Well I'm not blinded by it, so I'm goin' to do what you can't do and end it. Not everyone can be saved, maybe not even me." Her eyes were watering but she hoped it wasn't visible in the dark, she wanted to look strong and steadfast. She was terrified he'd never forgive her. Always punish betrayal. It was a risk she'd have to take, because she'd been betrayed.
He can feel the sentiment ringing over and over again through her mind like a mantra, and it hits him sure and true as a bullet to the heart. And although he can also feel her trying, it’s not enough. And nothing he could say could be enough either, so what’s left then?
But he’d known this was a possibility all along, and he’d still gone through with it. Maybe it wouldn’t have ended this way if he’d done this differently from the start. Or maybe her anger had always been inevitable. And maybe this—her walking away from him, hurt and angry and him standing still, watching her leave—had been inevitable too.
It sure had been nice to dream about forever though.
“You could save yourself. Right now. Turn around, Ashe.”
She wasn't quite sure what she had been expecting. Had she wanted him to continue to try and stop her? She'd made it quite clear that she didn't intend to listen. Briefly she remembered him telling her that it didn't always have to be like this. It wasn't just on her to fix it, but with their tug and pull it seemed to be the same. Him telling her she could stop. Her ignoring him. Him leaving her alone to do it. It was like they were on a Merry-go-round; the horses bobbing up and down but just going around in a never ending loop. It didn't always have to be like this, but it wasn't just on her shoulders to put a stop to it. One of them had to take the first step, but neither were moving.
When she does take the first step it's away from him. His message about saving herself echoes in her mind and she can feel the sadness and pain in it. She was a stubborn fool, and she knew that, but it isn't enough to stop her. She needed to confront the man who had put them on this ride to begin with.
She pauses at his words, not turning around to look at him because her cheeks are wet now that she's turned away. "I'm the only one that saves me Jesse. You're mistake was thinkin' you could." There is so much pain in her words, but she just starts walking away again, just like the horse, going nowhere fast.
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no subject
It’s all about what you’ll do, isn’t it?
She’s right. That’s the hard thing about all of it really, that she’s right about so much. He hadn’t been there for her. Reyes was to blame, and no—despite what he says, he really doesn’t think Reyes is totally gone. And yes, even now, Jesse is making this about him to an extent. But that doesn’t stop anger from rising up to tangle with his fear—anger at her recklessness and her lack of regard for her own safety. She’d die for this, and she will unless he does something to stop it.
He meets her gaze with his own, steady and sad and fiery with determination.
“The whole reason I didn’t tell you is because I took you into account. You’re sure as hell not gonna do it for yourself. You think you’d be past this, throwing your good sense to the wind for revenge!”
He stops, breathing hard, eyes shining bright where the moonlight hits them. A wolf’s eyes. The anger is bringing it out more now, making him hyper-aware of the night around them and the danger on the wind. Slowly, he shakes his head and takes a purposeful step back away from her. The few feet now between them might as well be a mile. A canyon in a familiar desert they’ve both walked in before.
“No. Don’t think I will.”
no subject
She didn't want to die, despite all her reckless behavior that suggested otherwise, Ashe did not want to die. If it were any other situation she would have the ability to think with clarity about what she's facing. Only a little over an hour earlier they had been tucked into bed together, her soothing his nightmares away as he tried to regain his own clarity. Now they were standing apart and she can feel that distant. She knows this is the part where she sabotages what she has. It's like she's that child all over again scowling at the door when what she wants is to ask her parents to stay. But people didn't stay and so you had to hurt them before they could hurt you.
Without the fear of death being permanent, she's that much more of a loose canon because the consequence isn't as high. Spite is so intrinsically woven into her patterns of behavior that she'd practically die just to get back at him. While she's confused and lost, she can't get a strong enough grip on her rationality, though hopefully he'd feel her trying through their bond. This leaves her with nothing to turn to other than the same old tired patterns that leave her wounded and alone.
And with him standing there like that, eyes gleaming in the moonlight, he feels like a stranger. She doesn't want to lose the love or the romance of the foundation that they are slowly been building together. The future feels deeply uncertain and despite how badly she wants that future with him, she's a woman dedicated to the present.
Always punish betrayal. It rings louder in her head than her regret and desire to be proved wrong.
So punish betrayal she would. People would suffer that night, but she was already suffering and if she had to drag the entire town down with her, she would.
She walked back to the bike and grabbed Viper again, slinging the rifle over her shoulder and standing proud, once again at the the crossroads with him. "So what? You gonna lock me up? Throw away the key until I promise not to seek revenge? You know that isn't me. You can't watch me every second of every day."
She estimated the walk back, or the walk to wherever he was. She'd find him and if she had to walk to do it she would. "One way or another, I'm gonna teach that man that you don't fuck with Elizabeth Ashe. Sometimes people are just bad Jesse. I've never pretended to be otherwise, but that man who took you, somehow he convinced you his motives were pure and his heart was in the right place. Well I'm not blinded by it, so I'm goin' to do what you can't do and end it. Not everyone can be saved, maybe not even me." Her eyes were watering but she hoped it wasn't visible in the dark, she wanted to look strong and steadfast. She was terrified he'd never forgive her. Always punish betrayal. It was a risk she'd have to take, because she'd been betrayed.
"Keep the bike, I'll walk."
no subject
But he’d known this was a possibility all along, and he’d still gone through with it. Maybe it wouldn’t have ended this way if he’d done this differently from the start. Or maybe her anger had always been inevitable. And maybe this—her walking away from him, hurt and angry and him standing still, watching her leave—had been inevitable too.
It sure had been nice to dream about forever though.
“You could save yourself. Right now. Turn around, Ashe.”
no subject
When she does take the first step it's away from him. His message about saving herself echoes in her mind and she can feel the sadness and pain in it. She was a stubborn fool, and she knew that, but it isn't enough to stop her. She needed to confront the man who had put them on this ride to begin with.
She pauses at his words, not turning around to look at him because her cheeks are wet now that she's turned away. "I'm the only one that saves me Jesse. You're mistake was thinkin' you could." There is so much pain in her words, but she just starts walking away again, just like the horse, going nowhere fast.