theprettybeta (theprettybeta) wrote in paradisolog, @ 2016-04-22 22:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | !arva, ~isaac lahey (theprettybeta) |
WHO: Isaac Lahey and OTA Arva
WHERE: Somewhere around the ocean
WHEN: Right after this.
WHAT: So much fucking angst. Seriously, don't open unless you want man-angst.
WARNINGS: Mentions of death and SO much self loathing, honestly.
STATUS: Closed/Complete.
It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Isaac's head was spinning so violently that he practically stumbled out of Lydia's old shelter, the one she had told him he could use if he just needed time to breathe or be alone. He had ripped his bracelet off of his wrist and tossed it aside blindly while he was in there, unable to read any more of whatever the hell was going on on the network, because he couldn't see. The shelter was roomy with no door but he could feel the walls closing in, the air was getting stale, and he couldn't get out. Why couldn't he get out? Why was it so hard to breathe? Why couldn't he breathe? It wasn't supposed to happen like this. He was still wearing the shoes he had come with, the ones he put on when he was building the medical center so he wouldn't end up crushing his foot if he dropped something, but they seemed heavy, dragging in the sand as he headed blindly into the night and causing him to stumble more than once as he staggered forward in an uneven line. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. This wasn't why he came. This wasn't what he was here for. This wasn't supposed to follow him. Why couldn't he breathe? A part of him, that little part of logic that he tried to grasp onto with desperation, said that Chester could have been right. It was so rare, and Jemma didn't know for sure, but god, Isaac knew. Isaac knew. Malia had come to him as a friend looking for someone to trust, and Isaac had done everything in his power to help her and make sure that the baby - his baby - would come to term as happy and healthy as possible. But happy and healthy wasn't something that Isaac could do, everything that he touched turned into death. Everything that he experienced was darkness, he had said it to Derek and he said it because it was true. Isaac had never known happiness. He had only learned of it once and it had been torn from him in such a short period of time, as if life had given him a taste of something just so he knew what he couldn't have, and that followed him. That death, and abandonment and dark cloud of misfortune followed him and it touched everybody around him. His mother. His brother, his father, Derek, Scott, Lydia, Allison, Chris... if Isaac cared about them, they would lose something. If he cared about them they would push him away, things never happened the way that they should. Things were never good. Isaac didn't know good. So what the fuck was he doing here? What had he been thinking? Why would he tell Malia that he would be the father if he knew that this cloud followed him? Why would he think that coming to a place like this, a paradise, would somehow null the fact that everything he touched rotted, slowly, from the inside out? He only brought it with him, he selfishly accepted such an amazing offer because he wanted to escape and now he brought that misery here with him, and he had cursed Malia and his unborn child with it by mere existence. This isn't why he came. He came to escape it. Stupid. There were so many other possibilities and so many options as to why Malia had taken to being so ill during the pregnancy. It could have been normal. It could have been completely normal, but it wasn't. He knew that deep down, so sure, he could feel it in the same parts of him that told him that his father would never get better. That Allison was too good to be true. Those parts never lied, because things never got better. Things never stayed good. Stupid. Isaac finally stumbled one last time, harder than before until he was on his hands and knees, sand between his fingers and the lip of the ocean licking his knuckles before receding back only to return moments later. His chest was heaving as he tried to suck air into his lungs, his head light with a mixture of panic and lack of sleep, and for a moment he thought that he might pass out. The question wasn't whether something was wrong with Malia. He knew there was. The question was, would it take her away, and would it take his child with her? It was his baby. It was his baby, that was his baby's heartbeat until he had to put it in Arva's hands, but right now it was his, and because it was his, it would be ruined. Because it wasn't supposed to happen like this. But it always happened like this. It hit him like a freight train, the realization that he could lose everything - no, the realization that he would lose everything - so suddenly. If he had just said no, she would have been fine. It it wasn't him, it would have been fine. Because Isaac was the common link. Everything crumbled around him like the walls of a corrupt and decrepit empire, and the only thing in every single one of those situations that was the same, was Isaac. He brought this misfortune here with him, and he poisoned the people he cared about with it. His baby. His little baby. Fingers curled into the sand and Isaac's eyes burned hotly with tears before he hit the ground hard with anger. He should have known better. He should have never come. Sure. It could have been something else. But it wasn't. He knew it wasn't. |