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¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (chakram) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-04-02 16:40:00

Who: Xena and Callisto
What: Callisto remembers who killed her dream family.
When: 4/1
Where: Xena's condo
Status: complete
Rating: Pg-13



Damn blondes. Making it hard to sleep. Only it wasn’t Callisto screaming. No, it was annoying Gabrielle. Ugh. Sure, she was cute. Maybe even a little useful. Stubborn. There was a lot to like about Gabrielle. And it was a lonely road Xena was walking. But was that fair to an innocent?

For everything she’d done, she didn’t want to ruin that innocence.

And it annoyed her when she woke up and felt dirty for being a bad person. So Xena grabbed a glass of whiskey and tried to numb her mind with late night...Golden Girls. Apparently.

“Ugh.”

The dream about her burning village had been bothering Callisto ever since she’d had it. But it was something she tried to keep herself from fully focusing on. Because sometimes one’s mind went to great lengths to keep them from realizing terrible truths. However, she’d gotten a dream that made it difficult to ignore the truth any longer.

Xena had killed her family in her dreams. And now Callisto was training to get revenge, to kill Xena piece by piece the way Callisto had been killed piece by piece.

There was a fire burning in her heart, a fire forged from rage and she couldn’t handle it any longer. It was driving her more and more crazy. She’d been out that night. When she came back, she had some bruises and minor cuts. There was more blood on her than she herself had shed, so obviously the other people involved had bled. It had been one hell of a bar fight, in Callisto’s mind, and as she waltzed into the condo, she was surprised to hear the TV on. Which meant Xena was awake. And some aggression started to well up inside of her again.

“Golden Girls? Seriously?” She questioned, head tilted to the side as she eyed the TV.

“Nothin’ else on, and you really can’t beat Sofia for witty commentary.” Xena took a sip of her beer and glanced over at Callisto. And started. Callisto looked like she’d been in a street fight, and Xena had to quell an irrational desire to look her over. (no seriously where the fuck did that come from?). “The other guy still breathing?”

“True, I always had an appreciation for the old woman’s wit.” Callisto smirked a bit and waved a dismissive hand as she walked around the couch. “Yeah yeah, he’s a alive. Well. They are still alive. I was a little out-numbered, but I like the odds stacked against me.” Callisto always was one who liked walking that line a little too daringly.

“Long as you cleaned up after yourself,” Xena commented. The usual reasons why. She held up her bottle. “Want a sip? Figure you had nightmares again or something. Could probably use the liquid stiffness, am I right?”

“Always do.” And she had at least cleaned up after herself. And then Xena brought up the dreams. For once Callisto hadn’t had a nightmare, but that wasn’t going to last long. She moved over and took the bottle, taking a drink from it before she looked at the bottle, tilting her head again. “I didn’t have a nightmare for once. On the contrary, my dream self seems to have found direction. She’s channeling her anger and rage over losing her family.” Her gaze slid over to Xena as she handed the bottle back. Dark eyes studied the brunette intently, that cunning intelligence of hers shining in them as she tried to read Xena.

Xena looked more at the bottle than at Callisto. Channeling anger and rage was one of the things Callisto did best. But Xena still remembered that they’d dreamed of burning villages at the same time. It was too much to be a coincidence. She could put two and two together. Knowing the name of Callisto’s village had only confirmed it. When she met Callisto’s eyes, her own seemed older, a little wiser. Almost kinder. “And what direction is that going to be, Callisto?”

No, it hadn’t been a coincidence, and Callisto wasn’t certain how to take the emotions that came with it. Part of her wanted to fight Xena, the part of her dream self that was imprinting on her. The other part was wanting to curl up somewhere and ignore the dreams.

“Vengeance. What better way than seeking retribution with her own hands?” Callisto’s smile was more than a little on the insane side of things, but she wasn’t exactly sane. She’d always been cracked since her family had died, but now the dreams were making those cracks a lot wider. And that is what was starting to make her extremely dangerous. Her anger was explosive, and if she lost it enough, she would leave a mess behind.

Callisto could be up to any number of things. Especially with a smile like that. But Xena had a counter, if Callisto was still sane enough to understand it. “One thing my dreams are teaching me, is that vengeance ain’t a good thing and just makes everything worse.”

Ugh. What was she turning into? She blamed Gabrielle, and Hercules.

“Vengeance doesn’t bring the dead back to life.” Guilt colored her words.

Even if Callisto was still sane enough to understand that, she wasn’t going to let herself understand it. She didn’t care if things got worse or not. In her mind, things couldn’t get worse than having lost her family the way she had.

“Now that’s the funny thing about vengeance. It doesn’t bring the dead back, but it just might bring about some peace for those of us left behind. Besides, I’ve stopped wishing for my family to come back to life. They wouldn’t like me anyway, and I can never go back to who I used to be.” There was a slight sing-song tone to her voice, her voice rising and falling a bit as she spoke. But what Callisto didn’t give voice to was the fact she had a deathwish. Her dream self didn’t seem to care about much. She wasn’t even afraid of dying.

And this Callisto wasn’t afraid of death either.

Xena hadn’t glanced away, though her expression had gotten much more serious. Silly Xena put aside, despite the comedy on the tv. She didn’t know if Callisto was right or wrong about her family. Xena was sure her brother would have hated who she’d become, in both lives. And maybe it was that memory of her brother that had helped Lao Ma and Hercules and even Gabrielle push her towards being a better person. It left Xena conflicted. And knowing what Callisto was becoming? And knowing it was her fault? That didn’t help.

“Funny, never really felt much peace after I got revenge for my brother.”

Callisto had started to think Xena was changing, but she wasn’t saying anything yet. No, she was more watching and waiting for evidence. And if she saw Xena was getting soft, then she would make her move.

“Well, guess I won’t know until I try. Or I could die in the process, let oblivion take me. I suppose there is no true peace until you die.” Callisto resumed pacing. Considering the adrenaline running through her after the fight, she couldn’t sit down yet. She was wired. Her blonde hair was on the wild side, obviously having been through a fight and she hadn’t even tried to smooth it down.

“You’re assuming there’s nothing on the other side. But then I always figured I’d burn in hell. Might as well enjoy life while you can, if you’re gonna pay for it for eternity either way.” She took her feet off of the coffee table. “You gonna wear a hole in the floor or are you gonna sit down any time tonight?”

It didn’t even have to be on the couch with her. There was a comfy lazy-boy type chair too. “We could probably put something more hard core on, not getting any more sleep tonight.”

“There’s no proof that there’s anything on the other side. And personally, if I can’t see it, I won’t believe it.” Callisto wasn’t religious, she’d pretty much lost whatever belief in God or gods the night her family had died. “Too much adrenaline right now.”

She stopped and eyed Xena. “I’m all for hardcore. Kind of in the mood for blood and guts.”

“That’s fair enough.” Since they obviously weren’t going to talk about the fireelephant in the room, Xena turned it over to the horror channel.

Of course, even as they were avoiding the fire elephant in the room, Callisto had been studying Xena, wondering if she’d mention it first. Though Xena well knew Callisto’s issues, so upon further thought (because she was thinking carefully as opposed to being engrossed in the movie), it was obvious Xena wouldn’t bring it up. Because if it wasn’t a coincidence, there would probably be a fight between them. And if it was a coincidence, Callisto would then be upset for no reason.

So Callisto watched a bit of the movie, eventually settling down on the couch after pacing. After a death scene played out, she looked over at Xena.

“You dream of being a warlord in ancient Greece, right? Leading your army from village to village, leaving slaughter in your wake?”

Well, that was getting right to it, now wasn’t it. Xena’s lips thinned out for a moment before her classic smile came to her face. “Yeah, pretty much. Warlord killed my brother, I set out for revenge, became addicted to power. That kinda thing.”

Sometimes Callisto enjoyed toying with people before stabbing them. But at this moment, she’d rather go straight for the heart. “Do you remember the names of the places your army raided? More specifically, a village by the name of Cirra?” She watched Xena with a hawke-like gaze.

Xena’s eyes flicked to Callisto. She didn’t need to say anything. The reaction was enough and she knew it. And it wasn’t like she could explain. Or she could, but she doubted Callisto would want to hear it. But she had to at least try, a little, and drawled, “I didn’t start that fire, Callisto.”

Callisto’s eyes narrowed a little, a dangerous gleam passing through them. “Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. Point is, the fire did start, and it didn’t start until your army was there. That fire killed my family! It took my home away from me, and not knowing who started the fire doesn’t completely absolve you of guilt. You were there. Your army was there. The fire killed almost everyone in the village. Only a few of us survived.” Her tone was full of very sharp, very pointed anger.

“You’re right. It doesn’t absolve me of guilt,” Xena whispered. “They were my men, they disobeyed my orders. It doesn’t matter if it happened in the madness of battle, it was out of control, and that’s on me.” She shifted on the couch, as if exposing her chest to Callisto. “Sorry probably isn’t enough either. But I am.”

“No, sorry isn’t enough. Sorry doesn’t bring back the dead any more than revenge does. And what happened to my home goes well beyond the realm of apologies. I can’t and won’t ever forgive what happened there.” And then a cold smile crossed her face. “Though my dream self does have you to thank for giving her a focus for her anger and hate. She will come for you one day, Xena, when she’s stronger and more of a match for you. That’s when she’ll come.”

Callisto envied her dream self. At least the Callisto in the dreams had always known who had killed her family. But the Callisto in this world? She had no idea who had killed her family, and thus her anger and rage remained unfocused. But if she ever had a focus for it? That’s when she would be at her most dangerous.

“I welcome her to try.” Xena had no doubt that day would come, and Callisto’s advantage would be that she wouldn’t expect it. But Xena excelled at reacting to the unexpected, which would cancel that advantage out.

It just hurt more than she wanted to admit. Callisto was unraveling before her eyes, and she didn’t know what she could do to stop it. “But what about the you here. What about us? I’m sure we could spend a few weeks trying to kill each other, burning everything down around us, but what would that accomplish?”

They were friends, and Xena wasn’t ready to just give that up without a fight. Dreams or no dreams, she stuck by her friends.

Callisto was certainly unraveling. The dreams were making her worse. Or else exposing what had always been there in this world but had been held at bay for whatever reason. But she was finding herself not caring that she was slipping.

“Here, we’re fine. You didn’t kill my family here. If I knew who did, I would not rest until I found them and made them pay for it all. That is one thing I envy my dream self for. She knows who’s responsible. I don’t.” So long as Xena didn’t start treating her like she needed to be saved from herself or having to play hero, Callisto wouldn’t get uppity about attempts to stop her descent into insanity.

“We find out who did it, I’ll help you,” Xena promised. And she kept her promises. Even the ones that led to a bloody end. She offered her bottle up to Callisto, as if in a peace offering.

“And how are we supposed to pick a trail ten years cold? Yeah, the police aren’t always competent, but how exactly are we supposed to pick up the evidence trail now?” It was a legitimate question. Callisto hadn’t exactly investigated anything before, not like this.

“I know some people. I had some old friends in the area. People who owe me.” She scratched at her chin. “A fire fighter might have noticed something, reported it. Maybe we can get ahold of a dusty old evidence crate.”

Callisto wasn’t certain what effect seeing any of the evidence from the fire would have on her, but she was certain it would probably push a lot of buttons. But if it meant potentially finding who had done that? She could bear whatever happened. Even if she just ended up in the loony bin as a result. “I want to know.” There was a cold edge to her voice suddenly, and it was a tone of determination. She both wanted and needed to know.

At least Callisto wasn’t so far gone that waking and dreaming were conflated with each other. It would be easy enough to happen, especially with how unstable the blonde tended to be. Xena just nodded. “I’ll make some calls in the morning.”

It would only be a matter of time before Callisto’s waking and dreaming lives were one and the same. But the moment, she still had some grasp on reality. “Thank you.” And for now, she still maintained her manners where Xena was concerned.

Xena frowned, then nodded again. She supposed that was that. So why did she have the most terrifying feeling of dread?