charlie west, also known as 'cactus the angry elf' (littledeadly) wrote in immune_ic,
Though she'd never admit to it, not even to herself, Charlie had missed him. She'd missed hearing his voice, his laugh, his smile, missed falling asleep in his arms, missed seeing his face. She might not have considered herself 'in love', because even thinking about that now caused an ache deep in her chest, but... he'd made her happy, and that had been something she'd never expected to be again. Most of this was probably her own fault-- she'd been so swept up in letting herself be content, she hadn't asked the right questions, hadn't insisted when she should have. It was stupid and selfish and cowardly, but Charlie had never claimed to be anything otherwise. Even now, there was the temptation to say 'screw it' and wrap her arms around him again, but she couldn't.
Not without trusting him, and how the hell could she trust anything he said? How could she trust that he wouldn't be lying through his teeth, even when she begged for the truth? For all she knew, he could be lying about how he felt about her in the first place, about wanting to meet O'Brien to apologize, about... anything, really. The only thing that kept her from turning and walking away, at that thought, was that he was saying exactly what she expected O'Brien to say.
"Chief's a good guy," she said, with a hollow laugh. "Too fucking good. World's still black and white to him. It's hard for him to get past that due north, y'know? Believes the best in everyone." Even after Charlie had told him what she'd done, all the people she'd killed following her orders, he was still insistent she wasn't a monster or a bad person, and yet, here he was, lecturing Rodeo about killing others. "He can be kind of a fucking hypocrite, too, if we're being honest," she added as an afterthought.
The chill of the night air hit her suddenly as she pushed open the door to her intended destination-- the roof-- and she huddled herself deeper into her coat. "Look," Charlie started after a moment of silence, taking a deep breath. "I don't fucking know if I can forgive you, but I also know I can't fucking forget about you, and I can't hate you. I've fucking tried. I've been drunk off my ass every night since I got back, doing stupid shit, and I'm so goddamn tired." Her fingers fished in her pockets for her pack of cigarettes, lighting one up quickly, hoping the nicotine would calm her nerves. "We're both alive. And as much as I wish I wasn't sometimes, it counts for something, I guess. So I'm gonna give you what I can right now: a chance to prove I can trust you, that you can keep out of trouble. It's not a guarantee it's gonna happen, even if you do everything right, because I don't fucking know if I can get past all this bullshit, but... it's what I have. Take it or leave it."