Megan Louise Mills (inspiteofall) wrote in rrinitiative, @ 2012-10-18 21:18:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | day six, meg, meg and rebekah, rebekah |
Even the best of intentions
Characters: Meg and Beckah
Setting: The cafeteria, early afternoon
The video games Meg had been playing with Adam were as distracting as anything could hope to be under the circumstances but after he left, she didn’t see much point in carrying on. Granted she and Adam hadn’t exactly been talking much but he’d kept everything moving forward, setting up the games and explaining how to play them so without him there, needless to say things fairly quickly ground to a halt. The room had other things to offer but none of it held any appeal for her, the only reason the games had for so long was Adam’s intervention, so Meg slid off the couch and headed to the elevator. Really she didn’t want to head back to her room either with it’s bed that seemed stupidly big and smelled nothing like Dominic but the only thing she could think to do was try and sleep some more so that’s what she was going to do.
Becka was in a good mood by the time she left Kyle’s room the second time, and she was just very glad that they’d managed to get past the brief awkwardness when they’d talked about Meg. She’d grabbed up their trash from lunch before heading out, and as she walked toward the cafeteria, she’d done her very best to ignore the courtyard, not even looking over to see if anyone had let Caroline out once her time was up. Once there, she tossed the trash away, then moved to press the button for the elevator, waiting patiently for the lift to get there.
Of course sometimes the universe didn’t care to let people off so lightly so of course when the elevator doors opened, it was Meg that stepped out, blanket slung over one shoulder as the strap of her dress hung loosely from the other, the scar tissue there looking particularly angry in the unforgiving flourescent light of the cafeteria. Seeing someone she didn’t recognise, which granted applied to most of the facility’s population, Meg just gave them a baleful look, hoping they’d get out of her way so she could just go back to her room.
Becka’s smile dimmed minutely when the doors opened and she saw Meg on the other side, her stomach twisting almost automatically with those nerves she mentioned to Kyle before. She recognized her right away, of course, and wow did she look even worse than she had this morning when she’d noticed Kyle bringing her out to the courtyard. “Hey,” she greeted her softly, eyes taking on an almost sympathetic look. “How are you doing seems really inadequate, especially as you really don’t look as though you’re doing very well. And really, I wouldn’t be in your shoes either, but I wanted to let you know that if you need anything, anything at all, please let me know.” And then she realized that Meg had never actually met her before, so while she might know of her, she probably would be wondering why the heck she was saying these things to her. “I’m Becka, by the way, and I am so sorry about...” she trailed off, not wanting to say Dominic’s name as she wasn’t sure how Meg would react to that.
So apparently her look needed work as said person wasn’t getting out of the way and was in fact talking. A lot. Granted most of it was going straight over Meg’s head and sounded pretty much like the grown-ups did in the old Charlie Brown cartoons but there was no missing the way the mouth was flapping up and down. Then there was a name being dropped and a memory fired, realisation dawning over Meg’s face. “You’re the unicorn,” she said, stepping around the other girl to get out of the elevator before the doors tried to close.
The look might have worked if Becka hadn’t been so determined to try to be there for Meg, as she’d assured Kyle she would, and for the moment she was just ignoring it. It was probably completely inappropriate, but when Meg did speak, referencing the unicorn comment, a soft laugh escaped her lips, and she slapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she said, schooling her expression to something far less amused. “Yes, that’s me.” She turned as Meg moved around her, having to fight down the urge to just pull her in a hug or something. It was her instinct when someone was hurting.
Meg frowned slightly at the other girl’s reaction to her own laughter, turning to look at Beckah further. “What ya apologizing for?” she asked, adjusting the blanket as it threatened to make a break for the floor. “Didn’t think you were laughin’ at me so don’t stop on my account.”
When Meg asked that and followed it up with her next words, Becka found herself relaxing just a little bit, remembering what Kyle had said about Meg being one to appreciate straight up honesty. “I just worried it might seem a little insensitive. It’s just... a little odd to be called that, but he did say he was probably going to tell you, so it’s okay and everything. Really, though, how are you?” she asked again, expression concerned.
Not really caring if she liked being called a unicorn or not, and really if that was the weirdest thing Beckah had ever been called then she’d lived a pretty charmed life, Meg’s frown only deepened at the not-quite mention of Dom and at being asked after. Unlike Kyle who she considered a friend and Adam who had pretty much dragged it out of her by his inability to shut up but she’d at least spoken to before, she didn’t know Beckah aside from what Dominic had told her and thinking too much about him just set off that yawning feeling in her chest that she was trying desperately keep at bay. “Just peachy thanks,” she said, turning to make her way out of the room, not willing to get into a conversation with a stranger where she was only going to end up either crying or screaming again, neither or which were pleasant prospects.
That was a blatant lie, and Becka was getting the distinct feeling that she’d done just exactly what she’d worried she would do and gone about this all wrong. She watched for a moment as Meg started walking away, wondering what she should do. She could just let it be, go on down to the clinic and put it out of her mind, but for some reason that thought just wasn’t sitting well with her. She was worried about what Meg might do now that Dominic was gone, and she wanted to help. And, well, she’d just never been good at butting out when she wanted to help. “Meg, wait,” she could out, hurrying to catch up to her. “Would you like to go do something? I’d... I’d like to get to know you,” she said, and it was the truth even if it wasn’t the strongest motivating factor of the offer.
"Why?!" Meg said, spinning around to face Becka head on, distrust evident on her face. It was a sad fact of Meg's life that she viewed most attempts to befriend her with suspicion and although she'd been making an effort after the past few days to get past that for Dominic's sake, with him gone there seemed little point in trying any more.
"Why not?" Becka shot back immediately. It shouldn't have annoyed her so much, that clear distrust in Meg's expression and the one word reply, but it did. The fact was that there were a lot of reasons she wanted to get to know Meg, but she really wasn't sure which reason would be the most effective in working toward that goal. "Kyle thinks very highly of you, and I consider him a friend. And, frankly, I could use more friends in here," she answered, everything from her expression to her tone open and honest.
The speed at which Becka replied caught Meg by surprise and even though her hackles began to rise, a dim part of her couldn't help being impressed that the other girl wasn't backing down. The mention of Kyle went a little way towards soothing matters, as did the honesty in both Becka's voice and expression, but Meg was far from won over. "You don't want me for a friend unicorn and you ain't exactly my type either," she replied, a faint but unmistakable bitterness in her voice.
Becka frowned at that, and she put her hands on her hips as she looked at Meg with an expression that was mixed skepticism and annoyance. "Really? And what are you basing that snap judgement on?" she asked.
As much as the conversation seemed to be taking a rapid downward trajectory, it had the benefit of dragging Meg from the stupor she'd been in since the day before, bringing the 'real' her back to the surface. Not that that was necessarily in Becka's benefit. "I know your type," she shot back, the anger that bubbling up doing a masterful job of hiding just why she felt that way - a mixture of jealousy and insecurity. Looking at the other girl, blonde, petite, pretty, it was like a mirror showing Meg what she could be like had her life been different.
"All right, I can play this game. Just what is my type, then?" Becka asked, trying her best to ignore the anxiety that was building up in her that this conversation really wasn't going well at all and was seeming, in fact, to go just as terribly as she'd worried to Kyle about just a little bit ago. She was just hoping that she looked and sounded braver than she felt in that moment.
“Sweet, wholesome, all-American,” Meg replied, nose wrinkling slightly as she rattled off her list. “Take your pick.” She sniffed slightly. “Hell, you were probably even a cheerleader weren’t ya?”
Becka just looked at her for a moment, as if she couldn’t quite understand why that made her not friend material. “You say all that like it’s some kind of horrible thing,” she said softly, with just a touch of confused hurt to her tone. “So what kind of person is the only type you think you could possibly get along with?”
Meg’s expression twisted into something caught between amusement and irritation. “It’s not horrible,” she said. “It’s just not something I want in my face. Don’t go fretting about it, you won’t understand and it ain’t personal.” She let out a little derisive snort at the question that came after it though and took a step towards Beckah. “Don’t push me unicorn.”
Oh, this was just going swimmingly, Becka thought, wishing that she knew the right words to say to make this go better, although she felt a little guilty that a big part of it was not wanting to let Kyle down or lose the ground she’d made with him today by not managing to get along with Meg. “Well, it really feels personal when you won’t even give someone a chance just because they’ve had a different life than you.” And there was really no way for her to have said that without it coming out slightly accusatory. Wow, she was just really screwing this up. “I’m not trying to push you, and my name is Rebekah,” she said with a trace of annoyance. “I’m really just trying to understand.” Kyle, Leandro, and Adam all came from wildly different backgrounds than her, and yet she’d managed to get along with all of them just fine, so why was it different now?
“If you take it that way, it’s your issue not mine,” Meg shot back in what was either a ridiculously ironic statement or one of the biggest cases of self-denial ever. She took another step forward, something she managed to look surprisingly intimidating given the state she was in and the fact she was even shorter than Becka, a feat in and of itself. “And you are pushing, don’t care if you’re tryin’ to or not but fine, you wanna understand?! Let’s have a talk, just us girls.” She said it with a slight snarl and the way she grabbed a nearby chair and threw herself into hardly gave the best impression but clearly some of what Dominic had said to her in the short time they’d had together had stuck.
Becka really didn’t think it was just her issue, but she had the feeling that arguing wasn’t going to get her anywhere, so she let that one go. It took absolutely every ounce of bravery and all of her feeble acting skills to hold her ground when Meg took that rather menacing step toward her and not let the fear that spread through her to show in her expression. Her chin tilted stubbornly, but as Meg spoke and moved to throw herself into a chair, Becka shrank back minutely, eyes going wide. There was only a moment’s hesitation before she followed, pulling out the chair across from Meg far gentler than she had and sitting down. “Yes, I want to understand,” she finally spoke, voice soft. Did she really? She almost wasn’t sure anymore.
A silence stretched out between them for a moment as Meg waited for Becka to say something else, her eyes not leaving the other girls, letting out an exasperated sigh when nothing came. “What do ya wanna know? I ain’t gonna sit here and pour my heart out to you - didn’t do it for the shrinks, sure as hell ain’t doing it now.”
What did she want to know? Becka wasn’t even sure anymore, but if she wanted any hope of turning things around and being able to have any kind of good news to tell Kyle, she would have to come up with something. “I don’t expect you to pour your heart out to me. I just... I don’t know why you made it seem like it would be so impossible that you and I might possibly be able to find some common ground or something, or at least manage to find something to do together that wouldn’t be miserable.” It was probably the wrong thing to say, as that seemed to be her track record so far in this conversation.
“Did I say there wouldn’t be any common ground ‘tween us?” Meg pointed out. “Hell we’re both in prison, that’s something.” Though whatever the the other girl was in for, she couldn’t imagine it was anything like why she was there. “But I ain’t looking to make friends or start hanging out. Maybe I might’ve been but not now and not with a girl like you.”
“Not specifically, but you sure did imply it,” Becka countered, stomping down on the annoyance. She wanted to laugh, in a completely unamused way, at the utter ridiculousness of this conversation. Why? Why was she even trying when Meg so obviously wanted nothing to do with it? Maybe it was because she didn’t completely believe that; after all, Meg had stayed. She could have just walked away, but she’d stayed. “Seriously, Meg? Really? So what are you going to do here, now? You don’t owe me any explanations. I’m not really asking, but for crying out loud! This is a second chance for you, an opportunity to be able to live your life, and they -” Becka cut off abruptly, catching herself before saying anything about Dominic. “Do you even know who you really are beyond all the crap you went through?”
However Becka thought Meg might react to her question, it was unlikely she would have predicted that the other girl would laugh but that was exactly what Meg did. It wasn't a pleasant sound to listen however, too coloured by anger and frustration with an unmistakable streak of derision that barely concealed the upset lurking just beneath it all. "I hate to ruin that pretty little world view you got goin' on there but people are are the crap they've gone through and not everyone's got the luxury of other stuff to draw on," she said, still laughing that strange laugh. "And you might be getting a second chance but I can't see 'em letting me out any time soon despite the shit they like to spout 'bout rehabilitation."
That laughter was entirely unexpected and, frankly, disturbing, and Becka found herself frowning at it. God, but Meg was the very definition of a pessimist, and it just made her want to tear her hair out in frustration. "And your world view's so much better? Jesus, Meg. Yeah, people are a result of everything they've gone through, not just the crap, and believe it or not, people do have the ability to change. You experience new things, you grow and evolve, and that's your choice. And no matter how long any of us are here, you're not in a freaking cell anymore just waiting to rot in prison. It's limited, yeah, but you have more freedoms here, an ability to experience things, figure out what you enjoy, try to figure out what kind of person you're gonna be if and when they do let us out of here. And as for me? I didn't want a freaking second chance. I made my choices, and I was prepared to live with them. But I'm here now, and I believe there's a reason for that. So just because here is not where I want to be doesn't mean I'm going to just shut down and throw a freaking tantrum and isolate myself from the people here." She was in full-on rant mode, a rare thing that only really happened when someone pushed the right buttons, and it just seemed that Meg was all too good at pushing those exact buttons.
There was a time in Meg's life where she might have got a vicarious little thrill at having provoked such an angry tirade from someone as 'butter-wouldn't-melt' as Becka but the other girl managed to not so much as touch on a couple of sore spots as she did jab them with a sharp stick and Meg's expression grew dark. "The world I live in, you better believe it's better," Meg said, voice getting dangerously low. "And sure, maybe people can change but in my experience, they don't. Once an asshole, always an asshole and if anything they just get worse. As for this place..." She took a look around, taking in the bar, the space invaders game, the stack of gifts and let out another derisive snort. "Don't matter how you dress it up, a whore's still a whore and a prison's still a prison." She got up then and stalked towards Becka. "And don't you ever compare yourself to me cause you don't have the first fucking clue what you're talking 'bout."
Because she wasn’t really in her best frame of mind, Becka didn’t see the warning signs right away, the dark expression, the dangerously low tone of Meg’s voice. But when Meg stood up and stalked toward her, she realized that she was dangerously close to pushing the other girl too far, and she faltered, suddenly completely unsure of what to say or do now. “I... I wasn’t... You were the one that brought... brought me into it,” she pointed out in a soft, unsteady voice, eyes just a little too wide. She should have just kept her mouth shut then, she knew that, and yet words came tumbling out anyway. “And just cause others stayed that way or got worse doesn’t mean you have to. You get to make your own choices of who you are and who you’ll be. No one else gets to choose for you. That was the whole point I was trying to make.” Her tone had utterly lost the earlier ranting note and was definitely a bit more hesitant, not lacking in confidence of the truth of what she was saying, but more in the delivery.
"No unicorn, you were just running your mouth about how you and your sunshine and rainbows attitude makes you better than me," Meg snapped. "And choices you seem to think I have when I don't, not now..." She trailed off, all her bravado leaving her in a rush as, once again, the reality of her situation came crashing back over her; she was alone, the best part of her having been ripped away for the second time.
Becka let out a softly frustrated sound when Meg snapped at her. She had an annoyed retort on the tip of her tongue, but when Meg trailed off and she looked at her, really looked at her, it was almost impossible to miss the change in her expression, and that earlier urge to just hug her and help rushed up in her again. She didn't move, though, aware enough to realize that it probably wouldn't be well received if she did even try. "You do have choices. You always have choices. Meg... He might come back, that's what the message said. If nothing else, hold onto that," she urged her, eyes shining a bit.
Eyes that were starting to shine narrowed and Meg closed what little distance there was left between her and Becka. "Exactly what choices do I have huh?" she said, voice starting to crack. "What if he doesn't come back?"
"You just... You find ways to keep busy, try to connect with other people - make friends, I mean," Becka answered, the desire to get up and give Meg a hug getting even stronger. "Let other people in, and do whatever you can to get through it, and just keep praying that he will come back." She couldn't stop from standing, then. "There are people here who care about you."
"Pray?!" Meg said incredulously. "What fucking good will praying do?"
Becka laughed shortly at that, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know, but what will it hurt? You don’t have any control over whether or not he comes back, so you just hope for it, and you do what you can in the meantime to just keep going. Because what’s the alternative?” she asked, really wondering what Meg figured she would do now.
Meg was all too aware of what one alternative was, the one she had turned to in prison not once but twice, albeit failing both times. She'd made a promise to Dominic though and as much as her thoughts might turn in that direction, and they had already begun to, she had no intention of breaking that promise. "Don't go in for hope, 's too much like lying to yourself," she said, quieter now as she turned away from Becka.
Becka didn't even think about it - when Meg turned and said those quiet words, she reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as she moved around to face her again. "If something's possible, it's worth hoping for, and it is possible that he could come back. I'm hoping for it, for you and for him." And if she had to, she would hope enough for Meg as well. She didn't have a bottomless well of hope, but she had enough for that.
Once again, Becka's words had Meg laughing but this time it was a broken sound, one that spoke of someone all too aware of the futility of their situation left with nothing else to do but laugh at how ridiculously unfair it was. She didn't even try to shake off the hand on her shoulder, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes in attempt to stem the tears she knew were close to breaking through.
Even though Meg laughed in that way, so broken and hopeless, she didn't brush her off. And so, feeling encouraged and emboldened, Becka pulled her into a hug. She didn't say anything more just then. Words wouldn't be enough. She just tried to tell Meg what she could through the hug.
It would have been easy for Meg to break away from the hug, given Becka's size it would hardly have been a fight, but even that felt like too much effort and so she stayed, tears starting to slip from her eyes despite her efforts to stop them.
Words felt utterly useless in that moment, and all Becka felt like she could do when she felt the moisture soaking into the fabric of her shirt at her shoulder was to just hold onto Meg, hands rubbing small, light circles on her back. She hadn’t meant to break her down, to make her cry, but crying was a healthy response to losing someone, whether they might come back or not. “I’m so sorry,” she finally whispered fiercely a few minutes later. “And I hate them for taking him away from you.”
Healthy response or not, Meg was getting really sick of crying whether it be alone or on other people but that did little stop the tears running down her face. Neither did Becka’s well meant words though they did stoke the anger that was still brewing inside her and were enough to make her finally pull away. “Why are you sorry?!” she snapped, voice creeping back up in volume despite being thick with tears. “You didn’t take him, you aren’t the one not telling me what happened, why it happened, why they didn’t take me instead...”
Becka let her pull away, arms folding around her middle to keep from pushing the physical contact again as she looked at her sadly. And really? Why did everyone always jump to the expression being one of guilt? It wasn’t how it was intended, and she found herself sighing softly. “It’s not... I didn’t mean I felt responsible,” she began, voice as soft and calm as Meg’s was upset. “But just from the little I talked to him the couple days before... You guys deserve this second chance, and it’s completely messed up that they did this, that they took him without explanation, that they took him at all.”
Meg hated the word sorry. Hated how it was thrown about so carelessly in needless apologies and empty platitudes dropped from insincere lips and worse, how woefully inadequate it was when a soul thrummed with regret and it was the only word there to use. That at the end of the day, it was just a word that ultimately meant nothing. Tangling a hand in her hair, she turned away from Becka and began to pace, faintly mollified by the other girl’s anger on her and Dominic’s behalf. “I asked them to tell me but I don’t know if they will,” she said, touching her wedding ring. “It’s just not knowing makes everything worse.”
Becka’s eyes followed Meg’s movement, wishing that there was more that she could do. She waited Meg out, just letting her work through whatever was going on in her mind, and when she finally spoke, she nodded in understanding and agreement. “They probably won’t,” she said, a faint note of bitterness to her voice. She didn’t need to bring her own issues with them not having told what Ryan had actually done into this. “I wish there was some way to make it better, but we can’t. There’s nothing we can do but just try to get through it.”
It may have been faint but Meg caught the bitterness there, a part of her glad that despite all the talk of hope and praying that Becka wasn’t as naive as she first thought, the sentiment that followed it only confirming that. “Smartest thing you’ve said to me yet unicorn,” she said, weariness creeping into her tone. “Guess you ain’t all puppies and cupcakes.”
Frowning at that, Becka wondered if she shouldn’t just take that as a compliment, but it rubbed her just a little wrong. Like somehow nothing else she’d said made any sense at all. “Trying to be optimistic about things doesn’t mean being blind to reality. And this whole thing hasn’t been a walk in the park for me. I didn’t ask to come here, it just happened. They just tore me away from everything that’s ever meant anything to me, and I’m just trying to get through it, trying to figure out how to deal so that the sadness and anger and frustration doesn’t swallow me up completely. The people here? They can’t replace those they tore me away from, but they help fill some of the gaps left behind.” And that was what it boiled down to, that she hoped that Meg would find a way to fill in at least some of the gaping hole Dom being taken away had left.
Meg wasn’t big on sympathy at the best of times having gone through too many bad experiences of her own and Becka really couldn’t have picked a worse time to give her little speech, quickly losing what little ground she had just gained. “My heart bleeds for ya, it really does,” she said, her tone of voice conveying nothing of the sort. “But I ain’t gonna listen to how you got it so bad and how you’re struggling through it like some kind of fuckin’ martyr ‘kay?” She turned to leave then, snatching her blanket up off the floor and heading towards the door before she wound up slapping the other girl or worse.
That wasn’t even anywhere near what Becka had been trying to convey, but it was becoming glaringly obvious that there was pretty much nothing she would be able to say to get through to the other girl. “That’s not what I meant at all, but fine,” she called after her in a frustrated tone. She wasn’t good at just letting things go, but even she could recognize that going after her, trying to help any more just wouldn’t do any good. She sighed, shaking her head and turning to go to the elevator. Hopefully Cal would have something for her to do.