Isobel Brandt \\ Persephone (praxidike) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2017-04-28 09:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | hades, persephone |
you can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness
Who: Obed & Isobel.
What: Immediately following this encounter with Isobel's stalker.
Where: D3, Pax Letale.
When: April 28.
She was shaking by the time she pulled into the parking lot; Isobel moved through everything as though it were a blur. She made no sign to Stephan in the lobby, not thinking to take the opportunity to question him about the prior week's strange events. She waited impatiently for the elevator, leaning against one wall and letting the door close before she finally hit the button to take her to the second-most top floor. It had taken far too much willpower to do so; she was afraid of both who and what she would find up there. But it had to be done.
The climb seemed like it took forever, and then all too soon she was there, on the floor that had become her home. She paused, lingering in the hall, glancing at Kate and Aurora's doorways. For a minute, she wondered if it might not be better that she stay with one of them for the night, to think about things, to cool off. Ask one of them to drive her to the hospital so she could get checked out. But the need to know bit stronger than her fear, so she screwed her courage to the sticking place and entered the apartment she shared with Obed.
A pink tongue bubbled over her lips, teeth kneading into the corner of her mouth as she opened the door and thanked God for the divider that didn't sweep her directly into a confrontation. She closed it behind her, Hanni's claws already scrabbling happily over the hardwood to say hello to his mistress. Isobel smiled at the small poof, bending down to pet him, and then rose to walk into the apartment proper to find Obed.
He sat at the small table that looked out over the ocean. Work was laid out before him; to his right, the bonsai she had given him appeared to be flourishing. That made one of them, at least. For his own part, Obed looked tired. His shoulders were slumped. The movements of his hands betrayed distraction, lifting and setting down his pen in rapid succession after only a handful of words were scrawled down. He heard the door close, heard the soft sounds of her footfalls, and his back went rigid. After a moment, he rose and turned to face her.
Whatever greeting he had intended died on his lips. His brow furrowed, his cold gaze flashing over her drawn features.
"What's wrong?"
She had left her bag in her car; she carried nothing with her except the clothes on her back and a jacket around that, but she could not stop the cold feeling echoing through her form as she approached a precipice of decision. One hand lingered on her gut, protective and scared, her gaze fixed in equal parts sorrow and anger on Obed's face.
"Did you know Bryan was out there?" Her voice was thick, fighting back tears. "Did you see him? In March? Did you know?" Her chin jutted up, and she swallowed, biting back more questions that threatened to spill forth from her throat. A small part of her fervently hoped that he'd explain that Bryan was the one lying, that this was all a misunderstanding, that it could all be figured out with a few simple words.
Instead he only froze. The truth was plain on his face, stony and immobile as it was. His eyes kept moving between hers and the guarded curve of her hand; he felt a terrible certainty creeping up on him, and for the time being, he shoved it roughly aside. He crossed over to her, his bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. He stopped just before her, close enough to feel her warmth, too far away to touch it.
"I did," he said. "And my intention was to deal with it myself, but obviously I didn't do so quickly enough."
She did not step back, but pain was written into every line of her form. Isobel closed her eyes, willing herself to not break out crying, as if the simple gesture would protect her from the words she did not want to hear. When she opened them again, there was nothing but fury.
"After everything you said about letting me handle things on my own, not knowing what to do, you just...decided that you would do it without me? When I said I wanted your help, I meant I wanted you to be on my side, not that I wanted you to hide things from me." Even as she tried, tears were still spilling out over her cheeks. The hand around her stomach did not waver, and her voice veered into cutting aggression. "Why? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you didn't need to know." He gestured to her with one small, all-encompassing wave of his hand. "I know there's more wrong than you're telling me. I know it's been that way for a while. And whatever it is, or was, I couldn't justify adding more strain on top of it. He's taken enough from us both, Isobel. I intended you to keep whatever peace of mind you could, while you could."
A little of her anger subsided, but it was a low flame tended to beneath other waves of emotion.
"I wish you had. It would've helped so much. I... I wanted to tell you," her thumb moved over her midsection. "I hid it from you because I wasn't sure. I'm pregnant." She let the words hang there for a moment, not sure what else to frame around them. Obed's eyes went quickly, subtly wide. "It's how it started with Bryan. I didn't want a baby, or one with him, and then he turned into this psychopath.
"I didn't see a future with him, not like I do... like I did with you. I told you I didn't want to feel controlled, Obed, and I know you meant well, but all I can see is that you kept things from me." She swallowed, trying to wet her lips with a dry tongue. "I wanted to tell you last week, because I thought I could, but then you turned into that thing, the thing from my dream, and I don't know if it was my subconscious trying to warn me or what's going on, but I feel like I'm losing my mind."
"Wait. Wait." Obed's hands flew up, palms out. What little color his face possessed had drained completely away. His throat felt dry; he raised a hand to his mouth, fingertips swiping at his faintly parted lips. "You're pregnant? Isobel, I…" He paced, reaching for words he could not find. He raked a hand across his short-shorn hair. "Whatever happened last week was nothing I had control of. How can you hold that against me? How can you be angry with me now, when you held this from me? How is this different?"
"Because I didn't know if I wanted it," she shot back. He flinched as if struck. "I didn't know if you'd turn into him, but I wanted to tell you but I was scared, all right? I tried to tell you that I was scared, after the dinner, I just, I know I should have said more but that's the hard part about being scared of everything. And you never asked, you just gave me my space, because, I don't know, you thought everything would fix itself. You scared me and your answer to everything is to let it fix itself."
"I said I'd do more," he answered, "and I meant it. I'm going to see Simone. I'm going to do things differently. I'm trying. But these things take time, Isobel. I can't undo not telling you he was here. And honestly, if I had it to do again…" His brow furrowed, a fine, dark crease appearing in his pale brow. "Wait. How did you know?" He moved closer, fear and anger roiling within him, inextricably intertwined.
"He showed up outside my office, while I was walking to my car." The fingers over her stomach tightened around the fabric of her clothing. "I didn't tell you, but he's been going through my friends, too. Rafe, and Alice. I think he thought he was wearing me down, that he'd be able to talk some sense into me, or at least whatever he considers sense. He... He hit me. In the stomach."
Obed's hand clenched tight at his sides; he felt one short nail's bite where it broke skin. His jaw was a hard line, sharp enough to cut. Anger was easier and safer than despair. He let it carry him now, and as he reached out and gently touched her arm, a fire blazed bright in his eyes. "We have to get you to the hospital," he said. "Right now. I'll call the police on the way."
She froze, wanting to lean into that touch. Her arms slid around her middle, as if trying to prevent what was within from slipping away. "I already did. I, I hit him too, and I called the police and left." It was as though he sapped all the anger from her and took it into himself; she felt like she was going to fold over into herself and disappear. She opened her mouth again, a cracking sound emerging before she could find words to speak. Her vision was quickly blurred by tears. "I don't want it to be like this, Obed; I wasn't sure if I wanted it, but now I don't want to lose our baby."
His arms slid around her, pulling her close; he felt her hand pinned between them, and the soft stillness of her belly beneath. He did not say the first words that came to mind; she did not need to know the depths of his anger, or the lengths to which he would go to ensure Bryan paid dearly for this. She needed something else now, and he intended to provide.
"I know," he said, "and everything is going to be fine. Just breathe, okay? I'm going to get you to the hospital and we'll get you checked out. Then we'll deal with him." Already he was subtly moving her toward the door, grabbing his keys from the table just in front of it. Hanni's worried yip sounded from the sofa, but he stayed out of their way, easily reading the tone of the room. "Let's go. Is there anyone else you want me to call on the way?"
She shook her head, more than willing to let him have control of the scenario now that she'd arrived at the harsh realization that she had probably and irrevocably put them on this path. Swallowing back what tears she could manage, together the navigated to the hallway, down the elevator, and into the parking lot where Obed tucked her into his Tesla before taking off for the nearest hospital -- the ER at Hoag.