I think you have plenty of worth in this world. And your companions know it too. When... When we were in the woods, you asked me if they would forgive you. [ And that, too, still pains her to remember. Not just the agony he'd been in, but the utter despair gripping him. ] I don't think someone deserving to die thinks of the people he will disappoint, the people he cares for, in a time like that.
[ Anyone else would think of their own survival or at least to pull away enough to be free of the pain. Anyone else would be clawing to keep themselves alive. Pom simply...gave up and accepted it was better that way. She can't ever forget it. ]
Wouldn't it be better, then, to keep trying? To stay alive and do what you can for as long as you can?
[ At last, Mel reaches out a hand. She's still far enough away that doing this along won't create contact between them. But she wants him to know she's there. ]
I know it's difficult. I...I have a lot to make up for, too. I want to keep trying, though. And I'd like to keep trying with you, beside you, if you'll let me.
[She speaks on his worth, on the worth others see in him, and for a moment, he desperately wants to believe her - he aches for that worth to be real, sincere in a way his personality often isn't, genuine in a way he isn't sure how to be. Sometimes, he's not sure the person she sees could ever exist - certainly not when he's turning into a monster, losing himself bit by bit along the way.
... but he'd like to try to be that person. He just can't do it alone. He's never been worth anything on his own. Purl gave him value back home, made him a person for the first time; here, it's his Imprints — his friends, he has to remind himself — who keep him that way.
His eyes open, flick toward Mel's hand. While he doesn't yet take it, he does step forward, away from the edge of the roof, from his worst impulses, from running again.]
Yeah. It would be better to keep trying. If not for me, then for them. For you.
[Someone has to watch out for Mel, after all; someone has to be there if it all goes wrong, if she's swallowed up by her Soul and no longer in there.]
It's not disappointment that colors Mel's features but a deep-seated sadness that lodges somewhere in her chest and doesn't loosen. To say anything would paint her as a hypocrite; not that she lives or tries for the sake of others, but to rid herself of the dogged shadow of her mistakes. To be better. To try to find the path she is meant to be in, now that so many doors continue to collapse in on her. But it hurts, it hurts so much, to hear her Imprint say others are more important than him. And she thinks back, again, to that day—
If she'd said something different, would he have given up?
Beneath that, however, is something else. Some small flame of gratitude towards him; some flicker of want, that desperate yearning to be seen. To be cherished for who she is. To be loved. Mel wants so desperately to snuff it out and see it nothing more than cindered ash. But in the face of Pom's reluctance to care for himself, in her own request to remain at his side...can she let that flame die in good conscience? Can she live with herself as a hypocrite if this one thing can keep him alive, keep him close, keep him with her?
(Selfish. Always selfish.) ]
So long as you are aware it goes both ways. At least, it does for me.
[ To keep trying for herself. And if not for herself, then for others. No one else should have to suffer for her mistakes. ]
And I meant what I said. Thank you for coming to me. I know you feel as if you did nothing...but even when I couldn't get up, knowing you were there— I felt safe with you.
[He'll keep trying, and so will she. That familiar feeling of the relationship being transactional is comforting in a distinctly discomfiting way: it lets him know where he stands, and it doesn't have to be anything more than that.
Unfortunately, it is more than that with Mel, and Pom realizes it enough to recognize the tangled mess it's starting to become. Knowing that she felt safe when she shouldn't have, that he has to live to make up for all he's done, that she'll try to help him until her last breath - it's like all the feelings of Purl are there, but without her. Pom isn't sure how he feels about that, aside from unsteady, uncertain, achingly lonely. He misses her, and while he sees shadows of her everywhere, she's never really there. There are glimpses of Purl in other people, manifested in his Imprints, and he has to care for each of them rather than being solely focused on one individual.
Being a person is exhausting, and as usual, he can't do it alone. He finally steps forward enough to take Mel's hand, unable to process his want on his own and knowing that the contact helps. Maybe this Imprint was born of necessity, and it can continue to be as such, albeit a different kind of necessity: both of them are willing to do what must be done, should the worst come to pass - no matter the cost, no matter who can't forgive them otherwise. That's the promise he made. He'd best not break it, no matter how close he just came.]
I'll be there whenever you need me, Mel. Gonna try to be, anyway. Guess I just had a moment of weakness. Of being scared of... hm.
[ She supposes she should be content with that. Rationally, she knows that no one can make real promises to do anything. They can only be there for each other for as long as possible — but to think on that makes her more acutely aware of what limited time they have until their changes take them further and further from who they once were. But to hear it again and again, that Pom feels weak in this space...
Mel's fingers close over his own. ]
You're no weaker than I am. I told you: I'm afraid too.
[ Of what's to come. That one day she might wake up and find she's not solely changed in body but in her mind, her soul. That one day there'll be nothing rational and understanding left of her. To put that weight on Pom's shoulders feels wrong, even as she knows she can ask no one else. Not a single soul on this island should have to kill a rabid beast that once wore the face of an ally.
Especially not him.
With some leverage on his hand, she tries to draw him closer, just so she can reach up and put an arm around him. It's what she did for Momo after she woke up; she wants to offer the same for him, even if it's strange, even if she's not created for softness. ]
I'm right here with you, regardless of what happens. All we can do is continue to try.
[It takes Pom a second or two to return the embrace; he stiffens first, but his arms eventually find their way around her to pull her closer. He's still not fully accustomed to hugs, but at least he's had some practice with them now, even if it is only with a select couple of people. Neither he nor Mel were made for softness, Pom's own edges left jagged by his past; it's through Purl and his Imprints that they are being reshaped into something gentler, capable of uses other than grievous harm. Finding those uses — new purpose for himself with that newfound softness, all while trying not to lose it — is the real trick.]
Yeah. Continue to try, and keep each other human so we can keep trying.
[It sounds like a daunting task, especially as he feels he loses himself a little more each day to his Natural Soul, but at least he's not alone. With one more squeeze, he lets her go, still holding onto her hand as he steps back.]
Get some rest. Never know what this place will throw at us next.
[ It's not something she doesn't expect. He tenses as he would if their positions were reversed. But it's...something she wants to give him, something she would have given him if he had remained with them. It's really just the only way she can thank him properly in way that feels warm, that expresses the care she has.
But soon enough, she does release him with that final squeeze, maintaining the contact of their hands. It almost surprises her that he hasn't let go, either. ]
I will. You take care of yourself too.
[ A lopsided, small smile appears on her mouth. ]
And the next time you wander out here, you can always ask for some coffee. I'm usually awake at all hours.
[ She's aware he's in the area often enough; she can hear him. When he isn't maintaining the marks around the home, she knows he's still around. He doesn't have to be a stranger. ]
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no subject
[ Anyone else would think of their own survival or at least to pull away enough to be free of the pain. Anyone else would be clawing to keep themselves alive. Pom simply...gave up and accepted it was better that way. She can't ever forget it. ]
Wouldn't it be better, then, to keep trying? To stay alive and do what you can for as long as you can?
[ At last, Mel reaches out a hand. She's still far enough away that doing this along won't create contact between them. But she wants him to know she's there. ]
I know it's difficult. I...I have a lot to make up for, too. I want to keep trying, though. And I'd like to keep trying with you, beside you, if you'll let me.
no subject
... but he'd like to try to be that person. He just can't do it alone. He's never been worth anything on his own. Purl gave him value back home, made him a person for the first time; here, it's his Imprints — his friends, he has to remind himself — who keep him that way.
His eyes open, flick toward Mel's hand. While he doesn't yet take it, he does step forward, away from the edge of the roof, from his worst impulses, from running again.]
Yeah. It would be better to keep trying. If not for me, then for them. For you.
[Someone has to watch out for Mel, after all; someone has to be there if it all goes wrong, if she's swallowed up by her Soul and no longer in there.]
no subject
It's not disappointment that colors Mel's features but a deep-seated sadness that lodges somewhere in her chest and doesn't loosen. To say anything would paint her as a hypocrite; not that she lives or tries for the sake of others, but to rid herself of the dogged shadow of her mistakes. To be better. To try to find the path she is meant to be in, now that so many doors continue to collapse in on her. But it hurts, it hurts so much, to hear her Imprint say others are more important than him. And she thinks back, again, to that day—
If she'd said something different, would he have given up?
Beneath that, however, is something else. Some small flame of gratitude towards him; some flicker of want, that desperate yearning to be seen. To be cherished for who she is. To be loved. Mel wants so desperately to snuff it out and see it nothing more than cindered ash. But in the face of Pom's reluctance to care for himself, in her own request to remain at his side...can she let that flame die in good conscience? Can she live with herself as a hypocrite if this one thing can keep him alive, keep him close, keep him with her?
(Selfish. Always selfish.) ]
So long as you are aware it goes both ways. At least, it does for me.
[ To keep trying for herself. And if not for herself, then for others. No one else should have to suffer for her mistakes. ]
And I meant what I said. Thank you for coming to me. I know you feel as if you did nothing...but even when I couldn't get up, knowing you were there— I felt safe with you.
no subject
Unfortunately, it is more than that with Mel, and Pom realizes it enough to recognize the tangled mess it's starting to become. Knowing that she felt safe when she shouldn't have, that he has to live to make up for all he's done, that she'll try to help him until her last breath - it's like all the feelings of Purl are there, but without her. Pom isn't sure how he feels about that, aside from unsteady, uncertain, achingly lonely. He misses her, and while he sees shadows of her everywhere, she's never really there. There are glimpses of Purl in other people, manifested in his Imprints, and he has to care for each of them rather than being solely focused on one individual.
Being a person is exhausting, and as usual, he can't do it alone. He finally steps forward enough to take Mel's hand, unable to process his want on his own and knowing that the contact helps. Maybe this Imprint was born of necessity, and it can continue to be as such, albeit a different kind of necessity: both of them are willing to do what must be done, should the worst come to pass - no matter the cost, no matter who can't forgive them otherwise. That's the promise he made. He'd best not break it, no matter how close he just came.]
I'll be there whenever you need me, Mel. Gonna try to be, anyway. Guess I just had a moment of weakness. Of being scared of... hm.
[Of himself.]
no subject
Mel's fingers close over his own. ]
You're no weaker than I am. I told you: I'm afraid too.
[ Of what's to come. That one day she might wake up and find she's not solely changed in body but in her mind, her soul. That one day there'll be nothing rational and understanding left of her. To put that weight on Pom's shoulders feels wrong, even as she knows she can ask no one else. Not a single soul on this island should have to kill a rabid beast that once wore the face of an ally.
Especially not him.
With some leverage on his hand, she tries to draw him closer, just so she can reach up and put an arm around him. It's what she did for Momo after she woke up; she wants to offer the same for him, even if it's strange, even if she's not created for softness. ]
I'm right here with you, regardless of what happens. All we can do is continue to try.
no subject
Yeah. Continue to try, and keep each other human so we can keep trying.
[It sounds like a daunting task, especially as he feels he loses himself a little more each day to his Natural Soul, but at least he's not alone. With one more squeeze, he lets her go, still holding onto her hand as he steps back.]
Get some rest. Never know what this place will throw at us next.
no subject
But soon enough, she does release him with that final squeeze, maintaining the contact of their hands. It almost surprises her that he hasn't let go, either. ]
I will. You take care of yourself too.
[ A lopsided, small smile appears on her mouth. ]
And the next time you wander out here, you can always ask for some coffee. I'm usually awake at all hours.
[ She's aware he's in the area often enough; she can hear him. When he isn't maintaining the marks around the home, she knows he's still around. He doesn't have to be a stranger. ]