Creature Comfort

"...12, 13, 14, 15, 16...dammit!"

"You hadn't planned on failing to kill me, so you're short on food rations?"

"--"

"Yeah, well, you're not the only one with plans that went to shit."

"----"

"Did you remember to put the tablet in your reserve? The acid rain isn't gonna purify itself."

"Yes, asshole. This isn't my first kill-piece-of-shit-all-the-way-dead mission."

"You clearly failed the all the way part."

"Listen, we obviously have some shit to figure out. The only thing that kept me from wiping you off the face of this turd of a planet is the massive detonation of magic that almost blew us to pieces when I almost killed you back there. Not to mention the fact that we seem to know one another, but then keep forgetting each other as soon as we look away for more than fifteen minutes."

“Yes, yes. Let's not kill each other right now until we figure shit out. Agreed. Still. You never plan ahead. Not even with rations. Not with—fuck, with anything.”

“Don’t. Don’t start. I know where this is going.”

“Oh, yeah? Where’s it going, then?”

“That you think I didn’t care. That I did it just to hurt you. But I didn’t.”

“You don’t know what I think. Because you never fucking ask.”

“Please. Not tonight.”

“No? When then, huh? Thirty years. Thirty fucking years ago we could’ve—”

“Stop—”

“—figured this out. But no, instead we did a spell to forget what happened. To forget each other! Just to avoid the conversation. A spell that almost, apparently, ripped the world apart, just to sit here and have to have the conversation anyway. So yeah, I’m gonna fucking start.”

“I did it for her! I did it for love!”

“And your love for me? Where the fuck was that? Did I ever factor into that decision? Did you think of me once while you were making it on your own?”

“I didn’t think—then—I didn’t think it had anything to do with you—”

"Ha, look how that panned out."

“I know I fucked up! Especially after the first time didn’t work. And the next. And—”

“You’re fucking shitting me right now. Congratulations. You figured it out.”

“Just listen! I thought we had time. All the time. I didn’t want a kid then. We were fine—just us. And maybe that was selfish. I own that. But it was my body. Ultimately, it was my decision.”

“No. No. It stopped being just yours when we decided—together—to try for a child.”

“You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry. I—I thought neither of us would even know. I didn't know the magic would work the way it did. I thought the possibility would just pass from my body to hers. And then it would be done. And we would just go on like nothing had happened. And what’s one—what’s one when there are so many—”

“What’s one? Well, there wasn’t just fucking one, was there? How many miscarriages did she have, Alon? Did you count? Because I did! There were—"

"Don't! Please, don't! I know how many!"

"And do you even hear yourself? There are people who would kill to have just—”

“No. No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to lay other people’s shit at my feet. That’s not fair.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry. You’re right. I—I didn’t mean that.”

“I think you do. Part of you thinks I’m a shitty person.”

“…Yeah. Sometimes I do.”

"..."

"I'm sorry. Please, don't cry."

"..."

“You didn’t even know if it was Sinta.”

"..."

“It could’ve been him. Who couldn't conceive. If you’d come to me—if you’d let me—I would’ve given something too. With you. For them both. That might’ve worked. You know magic can be...difficult. Particular. It likes to play games. I think I could have given it something it wanted.”

“You would’ve agreed to that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably. You never gave me the chance to find out. If I had said no, would you have done it anyway?”

“…Probably. Yes, I would have.”

“Then it was never about giving me a choice. It was always about you doing whatever you want. No matter what.”

“I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t—fuck, I had to do something! Surely you can see that!”

“I can see that you and Sinta love each other. But it’s twisted. It turns around and keeps stabbing you both, and you’re bleeding all over each other. And the fucked-up part is that you both see it, and run toward the sword anyway.”

“If it’s twisted, then I’m twisted. You think I wanted this? Wanted love to look like a wound? I did it because love means action. What would you have had me do–watch her rot?”

“Actually, yeah. Because she’s an adult, and you need to give her space to figure shit out. You can’t just white-knight your way into people’s lives. Maybe if you let weak, poor little Sinta figure it out on her own, you’d find out she’s not so weak and little. Did that ever occur to you?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up. You don’t know her like I do. And you’re one to talk about white-knighting—sneaking around, blowing shit up, galloping off into the sunset with your half-dead civilians. I can’t just cut her out. I can’t stop running toward the sword when she’s the one holding it.”

“Then call a truce.  Put yours down.  Make her put hers down. But don’t excuse what you did to me by waving ‘love’ around like a shitty fucking shield.  I don’t accept that.”

"..."

"What? What are you thinking? You've been quiet for too long. Usually, when you're quiet for this long, something gets blown up."

"No. It's just...it's just thirty years. Thirty years have passed, and because of the Virelith, I have no clear memory of what I did to you or even who you are. But I know I'm not the same person I was thirty years ago. The little I know now of what I did to you...I hate—I hate that person who did that to you."

"..."

"I understand her. But I hate her all the same."

"Well, fuck me."

"Why is that fucking funny?"

"Because of the Virelith, I also can't really recall who you are. But my intuition tells me that was some pretty big evolution that just happened."

"..."

“Anyway, I totally win the white knight contest. You’ve got nothing on me.  Just sheer numbers.”

“Ugh. Go the fuck to sleep.”