Marc Russo (bluelined) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2017-04-17 21:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2020 [04] april, marc russo, rebecca russo |
Who: Marc & Rebecca Russo
Where: Her house
When: 4/6/20, early evening?
What: They come to some sort of acceptance regarding each other and what's happened, and Rebecca decides that there's a place in Joshua's life for his father.
Perhaps it had been a bad idea to invite Marc over, but Rebecca couldn’t continue to juggle the uncertainties within her relationship with him. The emotional conversation at her office, followed in quick succession by his arrest had had her playing a very careful balancing game. She was grateful for Beau and the ear he lent to her, and his support, but there was only so long she was able to dodge uncomfortable things. However, she hadn’t realized her nerves were going to be so bad. Her invitation had been short and a little stilted; she supposed that part of her had been hoping childishly that Marc would decline. Only because arguments and uncomfortable conversations with him had rarely ever ended rationally. With a deep breath, and a quick check in the hall mirror, she opened the door. “Marc,” she greeted neutrally, stepping aside to let him in, fighting the swarm of nervous butterflies in her stomach. "Hey, Rebecca." He stepped carefully inside, making sure to keep distance between them all the while. Visiting her office had been one thing, but seeing where his wife called home -- if she was even still his wife -- was something else, especially when the last time he'd seen her in a house had been the one they'd shared with their son. They had to get used to this, though, whatever this was. Or more like, he had to get used to this. It was all his fault, after all. "I like your place." There, he was trying. "But I would've expected nothing less from you." Rebecca gave him a subdued smile. “There are perks to being in real estate,” she replied. “It’s not anything that I could have afforded on my own.” But given the new circumstances, it had been much easier to purchase and furnish her home in Austin. “I like it better than my Denver home, at the very least.” No doubt it would feel less awkward to her if they weren’t conversing in the entry way. “Please, have a seat.” Rebecca gestured towards the living room and the couches. "Oh, sure." He did as she asked, perching on the end of a couch cushion and watching her carefully. He hadn't overlooked the notice of another part of her past and present that he wasn't aware of, and it smarted despite his best wishes. This was all his doing, though; he couldn't blame her for his discomfort. "Thanks for, you know." He gave a half-hearted shrug. "Being willing to talk." “You deserve that, at least,” Rebecca replied. “I’m not angry with you.” Maybe she had been before, but her anger had calmed to disappointment and confusion. The man she had married never would have resorted to arson, or she hadn’t thought he would. Not even a reminder that she didn’t know the entire story really erased the confused feelings she had towards Marc. Crossing her legs at the ankle, she looked at Marc; he looked more like himself since the last time they’d met, but she still felt like he was more of a stranger than she ever would have expected. “Why wasn’t there another way?” "We were used to it, I guess." Marc ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it slightly for lack of anything better to do with his hands. "Things for us, we never got anything anywhere close to normal ever since shit hit the fan." He shrugged, shaking his head with a purse of his lips. "It was like civilization died, and with it went people's abilities to behave. Me and Leo included, after he got hooked up on Prax.” Rebecca inhaled sharply at the mention of Leo’s drug addiction. “The Dogs were using drugs to keep us down and the government and APD pretended we didn't exist, so we went to war." There was so much he could tell her, but none of it felt good to say out loud. "It became… too normal, scrapping for expired goods on the streets and getting jumped by thugs on motorcycles, carjacking the Capitol's trucks so we could get something to eat. After living like that for so long, and hearing the people who'd been responsible for us almost dying once upon a time, it felt like the only way. I forgot there was anything else, until I found you again." Instinctively Rebecca reached to comfort Marc, but brought her hand back abortively. Most of those things had happened more than a year ago, her belated sympathy wasn’t going to help, even if he'd noticed the failed gesture and wondered what it meant. “I can’t imagine,” she murmured. “I heard stories…” What was she supposed to say? Even though she felt sympathetic, her heart twisting a little at the difficulties Marc had faced after they’d been separated, it couldn’t erase all of her hesitations. “What would have happened if someone had been hurt? Would you have been okay with that?” She didn’t know whether to be grateful that she’d been a turning point for him, or sad that if they had never reunited he would have kept causing damage. “You’re,” she paused, “you’re better than that Marc, I know it.” I have to believe that, she thought. He grimaced, unable to think about the man who had gotten hurt just a week or so ago, in addition to the people he'd hurt during the war with the Dogs. Rebecca didn't need to know any of that, but Marc couldn't help but wonder what it meant, not feeling as though he could or should talk to her about it. "Maybe I'm not," he said after a moment. He didn't really believe it, even if she thought she did. "Thought I was, but." He shook his head. "After all of this, I can't take any of it back." “I don’t think you should accept that,” she argued, her expression flashing with frustration before she settled herself again. “But I won’t tell you what to do.” She didn’t think she had that right any longer. She felt like her hands were tied; there were things she’d like to say, but it was hard to say them. It wasn’t like they could sit in silence either, though. “Just because you made bad choices…” she trailed off, her voice wavering. She’d known that the conversation might get emotional for her, but she thought she had prepared herself for it. “Even If you can’t change for yourself, try to consider Joshua. You’re still his hero.” Rebecca only hoped that Marc would understand her motive behind that, and not see it as some kind of manipulation. "So I can see him?" Marc asked almost abruptly; the hope the concept brought him was obvious in the way he looked at her. Rebecca was right, though. As resigned as he was to his own fate, he'd do whatever he could to not have her cut him off entirely. He'd done plenty of shitty things, but even he wasn't able to stoop as low as to disobey his wife's wishes and go around her back to get to their son. It helped, too, that she seemed to not have entirely given up on him yet. Whatever that meant for them, how ever they could move forward, it was better than he expected. "Not now, I mean… whenever you think it would be good. I was just… double checking." Momentarily overwhelmed with Marc’s hopefulness, she smoothed out a wrinkle in her skirt. It was silly, and pessimistic, maybe, but Rebecca had doubted for a moment that he even cared about how this affected their son. “I’m not going to keep him from you,” she told him. “I don’t know how I’ll explain what happened,” she sighed, “but neither of us have been perfect parents in the past.” She was reminded of her own stubbornness in numerous arguments, and he managed to not dredge up memories from a past life out loud. “Really Marc, what kind of mother would I be if I kept you away from him.” Overprotective, hovering, there was a handful of words she could think of. And every one of them was something she’d been struggling against since Joshua was young. Amplified by zombie outbreaks, and a bite that she wished had never happened, but had no control over. "I would understand if you did." It was less of a faked platitude and more a truth he believed in wholeheartedly. Still, it was a relief to hear her say she wouldn't. He looked back up at her then, almost as though he was seeing her for the first time: a stranger and a comfort, all in one. Maybe one day they'd learn to make whatever this was between them work, however that could turn out. Maybe Marc was still in love with Rebecca, and this was a new chance for them to turn it into something more. Or maybe he just longed for what they'd once had, and it wasn't within reach. It was impossible to tell, but he was grateful to not be cut out entirely. "Thank you. I… you don't have to do that, but I really appreciate it." “I do,” she argued softly, politely. “I don’t want ten years to go by, only to realize I made a mistake.” She smoothed her skirt again, glanced at Marc, really studied him for a few moments. “Maybe despite my better judgment, I still trust you.” She was surprised it felt true. Maybe not with everything, but with their son at the very least. And it was always possible it was misplaced confidence, but she felt deep down that Marc wouldn’t ever put Joshua in danger, if he could help it. Rebecca went quiet for a minute as Marc struggled for a response worthy of her trust, weighing a few things before she opened her mouth again. “Joshua was bitten,” she eventually said. “In Denver.” It might not have been the time or place to say it, but she wasn’t looking for absolution, she had a point to make. “At the time I thought that I should have been able to protect him. But, I know now that I couldn’t have. Things happen.” Although it would be too soon before she had to go through something like that again. “It makes me feel better knowing that he has the both of us.” Even if things never go back to what they were, Rebecca hoped that that statement will remain true. Marc swallowed hard around the lump in his throat; it felt like his stomach had just been curdled, thinking about what they'd been through without him. He, too, felt that surge of wanting to do more than he could, all while knowing that it was in the past and there was nothing to do -- except, maybe, be there for them now. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, hoping she knew how much he meant it. For once, he understood why the Hellhounds were grateful for the second chance they'd been given, or why those who'd made that decision for them had done so. Wasn't he in the same situation, too? "Whatever you two want, I'll do it." Letting her shoulders sag, long held stress that she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying removed from her shoulders after so long, Rebecca was only capable of smiling, a little watery around the edges. “Would you like to help me explain to Josh what happened?” It might not have seemed like much, but it was more of an olive branch than Rebecca thought she’d be willing to give Marc before he walked into her home. “You don’t have to, not if it’s going to be uncomfortable,” she continued, just in case. “I’d like you there, though. Joshua really does want to see you, also.” It was a terrifying offer, but it was one Marc knew he had to accept. Parents had to do uncomfortable things sometimes; this had been what he'd signed up for when they'd first learned Rebecca was pregnant. He'd have to manage, somehow, and he would. Scary as it was, he had no doubt it was the right thing to do. "I'd like to do that." He returned her smile, grateful to see the expression on her face -- and even gladder to see it aimed in his direction. Maybe he wasn't entirely hopeless after all. "Whenever you're ready, and whenever he's ready. Just let me know." “Of course.” Rebecca reached across the space between them, settled her hand on Marc’s arm and gave it a quick squeeze before she moved it away again. “Thank you.” Gratefully, the tears that had been threatening subsided, so their conversation wouldn’t be concluded with Rebecca as a watery mess, but it wasn’t as simple to shake off her own vulnerability. “We’ll do dinner sometime, I’ll check my schedule.” She only hoped that she still knew Marc well enough to assume he wouldn’t mind if it didn’t happen tomorrow, or the next day. “Josh will be home soon, though.” Only just realizing the time when she’d looked at the clock. "Okay." As hopeful as he had been that he could get another glimpse of their son that day, Marc knew he had to be grateful for what he had. Once upon a time, he'd been a patient man; he could rediscover that again for them. “Walk you out?” "Sure." Rebecca stood and waited for Marc before she walked back to the front entry, hesitating only half a second before she gave him a quick hug, one he returned with only some reserve, then closed the door behind him. |