At first, he moves toward her, kicking away from the far edge to paddle toward her fallen form. And every foot closer, the waste of her guilt, her grief, her self-pity, seeps into the water that remains between them. If he reaches her, what will he do? Will he risk reaching for her hand again; will he sit there in his underwear and pour his own energy into making her forgive herself?
He remembers digging that hole, and sitting in the bottom of it while Casey attacked its edges, took over the work so Kira would take a moment for himself. When he sat just as numb in the bath, and told Casey he knew--he knew if he went back out he'd lay down in the dirt and never get back up.
More than a punch to the face, that's why he's out here. That's why Casey dragged him away. He couldn't look at a person and not take responsibility. He couldn't pretend they were someone else, or make them not matter. Every toxic thing leaked into him, and he was wandering alone anyway, losing himself in the trees and inviting the wrath of a flying, buzzing border patrol just to get away from them all.
He has to stop. He has to save the energy to get back up, every night he lays down.
When she gets up, when she stumbles away into the trees, Kira holds his place in the middle of the spring and watches her go. She has friends, she has people who will look for and find her, people who will bring her home. His only responsibility is to himself, and maybe to the person who brought him out here to teach him that.
no subject
He remembers digging that hole, and sitting in the bottom of it while Casey attacked its edges, took over the work so Kira would take a moment for himself. When he sat just as numb in the bath, and told Casey he knew--he knew if he went back out he'd lay down in the dirt and never get back up.
More than a punch to the face, that's why he's out here. That's why Casey dragged him away. He couldn't look at a person and not take responsibility. He couldn't pretend they were someone else, or make them not matter. Every toxic thing leaked into him, and he was wandering alone anyway, losing himself in the trees and inviting the wrath of a flying, buzzing border patrol just to get away from them all.
He has to stop. He has to save the energy to get back up, every night he lays down.
When she gets up, when she stumbles away into the trees, Kira holds his place in the middle of the spring and watches her go. She has friends, she has people who will look for and find her, people who will bring her home. His only responsibility is to himself, and maybe to the person who brought him out here to teach him that.