greatoldjohn | TLV Inbox

[The rat squeaks, and scurries up Misty's sleeve; she jumps to her feet, fists balled.]

Stop shouting! This is not a proper conversation!

What the fuck makes a proper conversation, Misty? You smiling at me while you make excuses for why I should understand your side of believing absolute bullshit about me? Maybe it's just sitting here while you try and use technicalities to make it perfectly understandable that you shot the person that I love the most, someone who means as much as Natalie means to you, a fact that you cannot seem to get through your head in any meaningful way?

[ His tone goes a little harder. ]

Or is it listening to you describe your thought process over and over and over again that doesn't give a shit about me or Arthur when push comes to shove because you're so fucking insecure about Natalie's affections that you can't just tell her no when she's wrong.

Which part is a 'proper' conversation between friends?

[Her teeth grind together again, hard enough to be audible.]

You want something from me, and I am trying to get there, but it is very difficult to feel comfortable enough to be emotionally vulnerable when every conversation is a minefield. If you want this from me, you have to stop blowing up at me!

No.

[ And he's rumbly, but his volume is low at least. ]

I don't want anything specific from you, Misty. We aren't going anywhere. You are who you are and you feel how you feel. I'm not trying to tell you what to feel or how to feel, but I'm also not going to hide how it makes me feel, what the consequences of those decisions are.

I'm blowing up at you because this friendship is uneven and instead of addressing things like my pain is real and Arthur's pain is real and like you have any idea of the gravity of what you did, you keep hiding behind technicalities. Was Arthur any more or less shot because Natalie manipulated you for one reason or another? No. So stop acting like it.

I was trying to address the situation that you came up with!

[She can feel herself tensing up again, clamping down on herself, retreating.]

You are expecting things from me! You're expecting things to go somewhere, you're expecting me to make progress with you. And I've been trying to do that, I've been trying to work through how I think and feel with you, but you explode whenever I say something you don't like the sound of! So you know what, you have a choice, John: either help me feel comfortable enough to work on the difficult, ugly, terrible things that make me an inmate, or admit that you're only interested in this if it's going to be easy for you! Your choice!

[Her foot stomps on the tile floor.]

You think this is easy for me? You think I was smiling because I was happy? You'd think someone who gets to wear a mask all the time would recognize one when they see it! I've been here for nine months and only a handful of wardens have bothered to try to actually understand me and help me instead of just blowing me off as annoying or evil or not worth their time!

[It feels good to really yell - she lets herself do it so infrequently. She wants to keep going, but she runs out of words before she runs out of will.]

[ Was this what he was waiting for? In a sense, yes. ]

Fuck you, Misty. I am still fucking here and I'm not going anywhere but I am not your fucking warden. I'm supposed to be your friend.

There has been nothing easy about this, from the get go! I don't think you're annoying and I don't think you're evil and I have spent so much fucking time with you on just the basics of friendship that if you think I think you aren't worth it, you're a fucking idiot.

[ He's growling a little but he's not SHOUTING at least. ]

I'm not Pagan! I'm not going to gently walk you through the shitty things you did! That's not my job! I'm going to be your friend and tell you you did something shitty because you deserve to know you fucked up. And I'm going to expect you to be a friend and give a shit about it, all the time, not just when it's convenient, instead of hiding behind the fact that you're an inmate! And then I'm going to sit here and hash it out with you even though I am stressed out just as much as you are because you fucking matter to me!

And we're not going to smile and pretend and play bullshit games because we're friends and it doesn't matter how much fucking yelling we do, I'm going to be your friend at the end of it. So you don't have to be scared. So you don't have to be vulnerable. Because I say and show you everything I feel!

[She curls stiffly into herself, her eyes and every other part of her hard - except for the one gentle hand that curls over the rat in her sleeve.]

Then you're not going to get anything that you want from me.

What do you think I want from you?

[ He's watching her. ]

Admissions of guilt, apologies, regret, remorse, attempts at making amends.

[She ticks each item off on her fingers.]

Everything you've been screaming at me to give you.

[ Slowly, methodically- ]

We know you're guilty because I caught you in the act. I don't care if you feel regret or remorse. And I never asked you for amends. I told you about the purpose behind the cooking lessons so that you'd know that what it was so you could make the choice knowingly. But I don't actually care.

[ A pause. ]

I do want an apology, yes. Because if you care about me at all, then it doesn't matter if you thought you were doing the right thing at the time. You should be able to admit that you did the wrong thing to me and to Arthur because you did. Trying to do the right thing by Natalie and ending up doing the wrong thing to us isn't mutually exclusive. Doing what you did to us for Natalie doesn't justify what you did to us. And you need to stop pretending it does.

Then it sounds like we're at an impasse, John. Because no matter what I feel or think, you're not going to see any of it.

[ That mask is just as blank as it started. ]

Then we're at an impasse.

And you have your choices in front of you. I'm not going anywhere.

You're the one walking away, not me.

Edited 2022-12-08 18:21 (UTC)

[In response to that, she stalks back to her chair, sits back down, and stares at him.]

[ And he's just going to sit there. ]

...you have a curfew, remember?

Following Pagan's rules is a part of trying to do things his way. I'm strongly considering being done with that.

Does he know that?

I guess he'll find out, John.

I guess he will.

[He gives her five minutes. Five minutes in case she lost track of time. But when she doesn't budge on his item, he wanders over to the greenhouse, uncomfortable as it makes him, and shoves his hands in his pockets to hide his feelings about being here.]

Well, well, well, what's all this?

You don't have to be in here.

[She says, immediately regretting having picked this particular place to make her little stand.]

You can just go.

[ John will use his hand to wave at Pagan, but he's just staying there. ]

[He glances between the two and shakes his head at her. John gets a quick dip of his head, but he's really in no mood for pleasantries.]

You're right. I don't have to be in here, but - alas, you've forced my hand. So here I am.

What happened?

I've decided that all this was an interesting experiment, but not worth the pain and effort of hitting my head against a brick wall over and over again. So, I'll leave the greenhouse--

[She stands stiffly, a hand still curled protectively over the rat that's snoozing inside her sleeve.]

But I'm through with curfew.

[He casts a nervous glance behind her and then to the doors.]

Oh? And why is that?

[Get the fuck out of here, Pagan!!! She quickens her pace, casting several glances back at John as she goes.]

I just told you why.

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