It's a Graves thing (soundofwings) wrote in doors, @ 2013-08-08 14:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | batman, dean winchester, death, riddler, rose red, scarecrow |
[Public]
[After the news hits, once she knows Sam isn't with him any longer. She's maybe a little more drugged than she realizes and not completely thinking about what she's doing. She definitely wouldn't leave this public otherwise. But she's calm and so she has her journal back for the moment, and she neglects to lock this. The handwriting is loose and even, and the post shows up from "Iris M".]
I saw it on the television before they could turn the channel to hide it from us. That they're looking for you. I think you should stop running. It's time. Just stop. Someone's going to find you. If I knew where you were, I would tell them myself. And if anything I said incriminated me for anything too, I already know how I'm guilty. I'd accept it.
Did you know that the hotel does things to us. I'm sure you're aware by now. Maybe it pushed you to do some of the things you've done, but I know that mostly it's just you. It always has been, hasn't it? But did you know what the hotel does to me most often? ...I get so lonely that I find someone. Someone that will touch me. That will put their hands on me and in me. It happened twice before I knew you were still alive, once a man in the dark and once a woman that was so [...] lovely that I met with her afterwards and thought of leaving the city with her to see the world. But then you returned so I stayed with you instead, but it didn't stop me at the hotel.
I tried to tell you, this last time. But I felt so guilty and was so worried of what you'd do and then you said to send your keys back, and I was so twisted around that everything was confused. Because even as you were telling me that, I could still feel him. [...] I found him in the basement that night. Up on stage, and I bought him. I pulled him into a quiet corner and we both ignored the fact that I wore your claim on me. I was collared for you and we ignored what it meant. He tried to chew it off of me and I only stopped him because I knew he would hurt himself trying to do it. And no one else should have been hurt by you, not even second-hand. I should have stopped you hurting anyone again. Ever. And that is where I'm guilty. But instead, I ignored that and I used his mouth and his hands until he made me come, and then I let him press me down and fuck me right there until I came again. I held him inside me and let him bruise me and bite me. He marked me inside and out and then I don't even know his name, but I walked around that party with him dripping out between my thighs and I loved it. Every second of it.
And though I know you will be, you have no right to even be angry, because you helped make me like this. I was nearly innocent when I met you. And every time you touched me somewhere between pleasure and pain, except for those moments in the hotel, they were all for you. I lost my family because I chose you instead. And maybe I don't usually admit to myself or to anyone else how twisted I am over you, but we both know it's true. And it would have kept being true if you hadn't have taken her. Do you even understand that? From the first dinner we had in Seattle, it was always to be me instead of my family, and you knew it, but you had to push. You can blame it on me, and maybe it is my fault, what happened here. It took me too long to see it, but it's enough now. I figured that much out after I tried to kill myself. I don't get to hurt them, and you don't get to hurt them, and that's why you need to stop running, so someone can find you. I'm so angry at you, and when they don't drug me, it's like something's burning me from the inside. I've never felt like this before, and I don't think I was meant to. I can't hold something like this inside without it changing me.
[...] I would have let you do anything to me. Do you understand that? Anything. Things far beyond anything we'd already done. Beyond any of the ways you've touched me. I would have let you take my sight again if you preferred me that way. I would have let you give me to anyone of your choice to do with as they saw fit. I would have let you bleed the life out of me inch by painful inch. Willingly. But you went after my family. And that was always the uncrossable line.
I lived through your death once, Ian. If I have to, I'll do it again. I have my anger to keep me company this time, until it burns the rest of me away.