Breach (3/4)

[effie214.livejournal.com]

Title: Breach
Author: Effie214
Beta/Cheerleaders Extraordinaire: chichuri, alamo_girl80, queenof1000days
Characters/Pairing: DG, Cain, Azkadellia, Raw, Kalm; mentions of Glitch, the Queen and the RoboRents. DG/Cain angst.
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Summary: He'd left of his own volition, and here she was, rushing back to his side.
Disclaimer: The characters herein are not mine. No infringement is intended.

Previous story can be found here.
Part One is this way.
Part Two is that way.

Posting Note: I will be posting the fourth and final part tomorrow night. I know everyone hates cliffhangers, and for that I sincerely apologize. I just didn't want to overwhelm your f-lists with multiple parts of this behemoth in the same day. :)

As always, comments/feedback are loved even more than my signed Wally the Green Monster (a Red Sox reference for those of you out of the loop. :) )

Here we go... 

She shot out of the Infirmary as though it were aflame. She ran her hands against the mortar and marble, grasping at them as though the construction could ground her, hold her. She picked up speed as she passed by the library and her mother’s office, ignoring the pleas trailing behind her.

Another stab of pain wrenched through her as she thought of Emily and Hank, of how she wished they were there instead of the strangers that surrounded her; she was all alone in a crowded room. There were people there who loved her, wanted to help her, but she wished for the ones she could not have.

Shame, thy name, thy face, thy soul is DG.

She put her head down and sprinted with all of her might. She took the stairs two at a time, trying to outrun the vicious and violent tsunami as it endeavored to drown her once and for all. She climbed higher and higher still, her steps and breathing becoming desperate as she realized that the blackness outside echoed that which lived inside her, and inside the castle.

DG slammed the tower door open and felt the pouring rain mix with the whipping night wind. What should have been cleansing drops instead slashed across her face like razor blades. Sinking heavily to her knees and burying her face in her hands, she shielded herself from the piercing rain, the smell of gunpowder and lead, and her endless failures. After her legs began to protest, she settled against the brick wall of the tower, let her head fall back, and closed her eyes.

She wrapped herself in her emotive cloak, the guilt, shame and regret she felt adding to the chill in the air and in her heart. She waded further into the surrounding void, feeling the noose around her neck tightening as she left the shore. She did not fight, seeking the point of no return, oblivion the only destination she deserved.

DG felt reverberations of someone coming up the stairs, but did not move, sitting as still as the stone she sat against.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

DG opened one eye and found Azkadellia staring down at her, arms crossed and eyebrows arched.

“Knitting,” the younger princess replied, rubbing her temples.

“Why are you out here?” Az’s initial concern turned to angry frustration at the flippancy of her sister’s remark.

“Because I find it more soothing to knit outside.”

“Would you care to tell me what in the gods’ name your problem is?”

The grief, the remorse, the fear that had taken residence since earlier that morning--and, if she were honest with herself, since Cain had left--combined into unbridled fury to attack her sister. DG sprung into a standing position, water from the rain--and her prison--shuddering off her in the aftermath.

“You know what, Az? I really don’t need this from you.”

“Yes, you do.” The elder princess’s tone turned cool, even, but laced with an undercurrent of anger and reproach reminiscent of her time as Sorceress. “He’s down there, dying, and you’re up here, hiding.”

“I can’t help him. I’ve never been able to help him. I’ve never been able to help anyone.” Just a few more steps and she’d be underwater again, the water rushing up to greet her and carry her away. She wouldn’t have to fight anymore; she could take the offered respite and save her strength.

“Oh, you have got to be joking.” Azkadellia snorted in disbelief.

DG’s eyes widened incredulously. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“You look like a fool.” Az pulled herself to her full height so that she looked down at her sister’s drenched face. “What happened to you?”

The irritation in DG’s eyes changed momentarily to confusion. “Nothing happened to me.”

“This isn’t the DG that I remember. This isn’t the DG I know.”

“The DG you think you know and remember was a child when she left.” It repeated what DG had told Cain after she’d rescued him: you don’t know me. She’d wanted to scream it to her parents, her sister, her friends for so long; she was no angel, no savior, no princess.

“Then maybe this is the DG I remember, because you’re certainly acting like a child now.”

The younger princess pushed herself away from her sister, turning gray, lifeless eyes to the battle that raged in the distance, the approaching sounds of thunder echoes of the tumultuousness of the confrontation surrounding her now. “You can go now,” DG said after a moment, tone matching her sister’s, cool and dismissive.

“No.”

“Fuck off, Az.”

“Again, no.” Azkadellia gripped her sister‘s arms brusquely, turning DG to face her. “I know you’re scared. I know you’re angry. But you’ve never shied away from a fight. Why are you doing it now?”

The protest that she was doing no such thing rang hollow and died before DG’s vocal chords could even form it. Her shoulders slumped forward slightly, as if she were taking the weight of the world from Atlas. But she was no god; she was just a mere mortal, and she felt her world slide off and shatter at her feet.

She was lost, supposedly in two worlds, and belonging in neither. “I don’t know how to do it, Az. Any of it. Be a princess, be a normal person, be a resistance leader, be a sister, be a friend, be a lover, be anything. I’ve tried it all, and I’ve failed each time.”

“You really believe that, don’t you?” The hands on her sister’s arms slackened as Azkadellia relaxed, the frustration and fury dissipating back into sympathy and concern.

“It’s the truth.” The pity in her sister’s eyes made DG tense, made her want to vomit. She tore herself from Az’s grasp and started pacing the balcony, bare feet slapping the brick angrily.

“No, it’s not.”

DG stopped moving and thrust her hands up and outward, gesturing to the horizon and the encroaching and increasing front lines as raindrops flew from her fingertips like sparks of magic. “Look around you, Az! I tried to do what I thought was best, whether it was for me, those I care about, or the greater good, and I’ve only made a worse mess of things.”

“And I didn’t?” The anger was starting to spark again, a sick, repeating cycle.

“Not recently. It’s my battle plans that are killing people, my declarations that send the people I care about running for the hills.”

“I hate to burst your bubble, little sister, but you’re not omnipotent.”

DG sighed heavily, her lungs filling with water, not air, as she floundered. “I know that. But, come on, Az, just admit it. I‘ve fucked things up thoroughly. Everything I‘ve done has been wrong.”

“You saved me,” the older woman said softly, joining her sister at the edge of the railing, but leaving enough space between them so DG wouldn‘t run from her again. “Was that so wrong?”

“It’s my fault you needed saving in the first place.”

Az’s patience shattered and she smacked her hands against the railing. “Oh, for the love of Ozma, Dorothy Gale, shut up!”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” A strong, pointed finger landed in the center of the younger woman’s chest so hard that DG coughed. “You’re being an ass. A petulant, stubborn ass, and I, for one, am quite sick of it. You’re so afraid of feeling something that now you refuse to feel anything. You’re letting your fear stop you, and that’s something I never thought I’d see.”

DG’s brow furrowed in mystification as her sister continued. “He needs you. Down there, in that ward, by his side.”

“He’s never needed me.” DG had always believed the sayings, that the truth would set her free, or that the things that did not destroy her made her stronger. But, as always, she was the exception to the rules.

“Why are you so afraid of him?”

“Don’t you get it, Az?” DG’s voice rose above the din of the battles raging beyond, and within, her fortified walls. “It’s my fault he’s down there! It’s because of me that he probably won’t make it through the night. I’m the reason he ran in the first place!” She scrubbed at her face, hiding her exhale behind her fingers.

“Do you know what the Captain and Commander told Mother after they found him? That he’d been captured trying to come back here, to see you. Tell me that doesn‘t mean something.” The flicker Azkadellia saw in her sister’s eye was fleeting, but the flash of hope was enough to relight the long-dead and long-worried cobalt staring back at her. Encouraged, she continued, “I know you’re scared. But you’ve faced a lot worse, and with a lot less thought. Look where that got you.”

The wistful spark dimmed, and DG dropped her head, tiredly pinching the bridge of her nose. “Yeah, it got me here. Into war, pushing the one person I really…whatever…away from me and into a hospital bed.” DG sighed, wishing she could see her sister‘s anger again, instead of the compassion that lingered there. She hated Azkadellia feeling sorry for her, almost as much as she hated feeling sorry for herself. “I want to believe, Az, really I do. I want to dream this can all work out. But look at the track record. Let’s be honest, it’s not exactly winning.”

“Sometimes you have to be willing to put your money, your trust, your hope on the dark horse.” Tentatively, Az brushed the soaked hair from her sister’s forehead, brightening slightly when DG didn‘t pull away this time. “Even if they’re the long shot, they still have a chance.”

“I wish I had your faith.” DG, the eternal optimist, needed reassurance, needed a reason to believe in herself again. She was the one now trapped in her own Iron Maiden, bound by disappointment, abandoned by happiness.

“I have enough for both of us.” Az placed a gentle hand on top of her sister’s knuckles. “Sometimes you just have to let it go, DG. Let go of the past; what’s done is done. You gave me a second chance. Take one for yourself.”

The rain slowed, but the wetness on DG’s face remained. “I don’t deserve it. It‘s my fault he‘s down there,” she repeated in a crushed whisper.

Her sister ignored the last part of her statement. “Out of everyone you’ve helped, you deserve happiness most of all.”

“I have nothing to offer. I‘m not worthy of him.” DG felt like she was spinning uncontrollably into the undertow. Those five words, ones she refused to acknowledge even in the darkest hours of the night, cut her more deeply than his absence ever could have. She needed someone to pull her to safety, but she had no one left to call upon for help.

Az watched the droop of her sister’s posture, the way DG grasped the railing, seeking something more tangible than hope as a source of support. “I can’t convince you of any of that. You need to do it yourself. But I do know this.” Azkadellia paused and waited for the younger woman to look her in the eye. “You need to try.”

“What if he can’t forgive me?” The confession was like ripping open a healing wound. “What if it’s too late to try again?”

“It’s never too late. I’m living proof of that.” Az tilted her head to the side, wanting to reach out and fold DG within the safety of her arms, as though the embrace could protect her just as it had when they were children. But protection was the last thing DG needed now—in recent months, she’d proven she could survive trial by fire. Still, Azkadellia persevered, extending an emotional hand to her sister, just as DG had physically done for her on the night of the eclipse. Take my hand, DG. I won’t let go. Nothing can hurt us when we’re together. “You’ve fought so long and so hard, mostly for things that had very little meaning to you. Why not fight for something that you really, truly want?”

DG wiped her eyes with trembling hands. “It won’t work.”

“I have no doubt that it will work. I never doubt anything when it comes to you.” Az offered a small smile. “What have you got to lose, DG, when you think you’ve already lost everything?”

DG said nothing, turning her gaze to the fledgling landscape below. The hopeless battles kept raging, and she was unable to fix that which she had broken. Now she had an opportunity to fix the most desolate situation of all, her ruined friendship with Cain. The simple movement of going to him couldn’t erase her inaction of the months before, but perhaps it could bring her to a resolution she would not find in this endless war.

Her head rose slowly as she nervously reached for the lifeline her sister had thrown her, believing it would break and deny her safety, her future, in the end. She gripped it tightly when it did not waver, letting Az’s strength help pull her to solid ground. For the first time in a long time, DG stood out of the water, watching as it turned calm and almost soothing. The gale stopped spinning around her, the noose loosened, and her heavily guilty wrap did not weigh her down as it had before. “I think you’re right,” she finally ventured, voice laced with amazement, heart racing in her chest at the implications.

“Don’t sound so surprised. It’s been known to happen.” Azkadellia’s smirk was gentle and encouraging. “It’s worth it to try, DG.”

DG returned the smile, albeit sadly and awkwardly, and took a small step toward where Azkadellia stood. “I’m sorry, Az. For all of it.” For yesterday, for today, for tomorrow.

“I know you are.” The elder princess wrapped an arm around her sister. “Let’s get you inside. You’re shaking.” It wasn’t from the rain.

Comments

[tardisinthesgc.livejournal.com]

ohhh... *smacks DG then gives her a hug* Deeg, self deprecation can only get you so far...*shakes head and hugs Az*

that was really beautiful, Effie. I can't wait for a follow up.

[elliejgirl.livejournal.com]

Ohhhhh... I just want to give DG a hug.