sirenspull | (001)(video)

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[Rachel manages to startle herself while poking around at the appliances in her small, starter apartment. With her NV in one hand as she does, it comes as no surprise that she turns it on as she backs away from an exploding toaster.

Obviously, she shouldn't be allowed near a kitchen. It's probably a good thing she doesn't need to eat. There's a moment of her just looking at the counter top -- then at the NV and her head tilts a bit to the side.

It probably shouldn't be on.] Oh. [She fumbles with it, trying to turn off the feed and finally, fed up, tries to turn it off via angel mojo. She only succeeds in blowing up a lightbulb. She looks very put-upon, very frustrated, hiding a thread of fear underneath it. She is not ready to let other know she's here. That choice has been taken from her, because of her own carelessness.

... She still can't find the right button to push.]

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[She wants so very much to believe him. Then everything could be just like they'd been and neither of them would be culpable in her death. She'd be exonerated for attacking and he'd receive absolution for killing her.

She covers her mouth with a hand for a moment, looking off to the side. Was she here for a reason? To bring a message of warning to him? She had no idea. She'd like very much to believe she had a purpose here.

She drops her hand, but doesn't look at the NV when she speaks.] Would that we knew that before.

[He watches, silently, unable to read her internal conflict but knowing if he was her he wouldn't be so easily placated into a truce. On some level, he's angry with her--she stabbed him when he was unarmed; she'd forced him to kill her--but on another, he understands. He understands why she did it, and that surely she's angry with him about her death.

He's quiet a few more moments until she responds, and speaks softly again.]

I was trying to protect us, Rachel. All of us.

[But then he pauses, his gaze still not leaving the screen.]

But I know you were doing the same.

[This hurts. There's no other way to describe this heaviness in her chest or the stinging in the corners of her eyes. It hurts. It's a heavy regret that nearly steals her voice entirely. Her tone is just as soft as his and she finally looks at him when she speaks.]

I couldn't let you take us down that path. [She shakes her head, mouth working before she manages to speak again.] I did not know what else could be done.

[It is not an apology, nor is it absolution. Simple explanation. Or... not that simple, she supposes. Castiel gave her free will; that she'd resort to extreme measures shouldn't be a surprise when she barely knew what it was to make her own decisions.]

[If he'd been in her position, he likely would have done the same. He had, in many senses, before; Uriel comes to mind, in particular. He'd tried to talk to him, to figure out what he was doing, and he'd had to strike first to try to stop him once he found out. And he, like Rachel, would have been killed if Anna hadn't stepped in.

It hurts him, too, both at the realization of what he'd become and at what he'd put her through. After his time here, and learning what happens in his future, his outlook is slowly changing. And he'd never wanted to fight with her to begin with.]

I know. At the time, like you, I felt I had no choice.

[They'd both been trying to do their best in situations they weren't able to truly deal with. They'd both failed in their own ways.]

But knowing what I do now, I would have taken a different path. Choosing to stand against Raphael was right, but the manner of doing so...

[The war, Purgatory; he still doesn't know if there was some other way to have proceeded, and he doesn't really think so, but he knows how this ends. It may not have been wrong, but it hadn't been right either.]

[Why did this have to come now? In truth, had she encountered him in person, she may not have given him a chance to speak before defending herself. (By attacking without provocation or warning; it occurred to her that defense via offense may not be the most viable way of doing things.)

The breath she takes catches, could almost be described as a soft sob. That's what she'd tried to tell him, in her way. His path was the wrong one. It would set angel against angel and could lead them to destruction.

Desperation could drive each of them to horrible acts. She knows that now. A part of her wants to curse the free will Castiel brought to them. This is chaos. The emotion is unquantified.

This grief and confusion more than she feels equipped to bear.]

I wanted to follow you.

[She pressed her fingers to her forehead and looks away. She can count on one hand the number of times she's shed tears in her long lifetime; she cannot hold them back now.]

[He hears her breath hitch, and he can only recognize it because he remembers a few months ago, when he was crying for the first time in an alleyway all alone save for a hellhound and a scrap of paper.

He never wanted to cause her pain. Everything had spiraled so far from his original intentions and he hadn't known how to fix it. He still doesn't.]

I didn't want to lead.

[He's not suited to it. A garrison captain, sure, he could do that. He could work independently. He could do the strategy necessary to be a general. But he isn't a good general aside from that, for so many reasons, and he knows that.

He'd lead because he felt it was what he was supposed to do. What was right. But it was anything but.]

I'm sorry, Rachel. I never meant for any of this to happen.

[Her hand moves to cover her eyes, trying to surreptitiously wipe at the tears welling over. She would not cry in front of him. So weak. She'd never given thought to what might happen if she faced him again; it's not something that crossed her mind as he stabbed her, but she never would have thought she'd cry.

Attack him, yes. Yell? Most likely. Demand answers. Berate him. Anything but a tearful admission of grief and regret.]

I know. [It tears at her to admit it. She knows it was desperation behind his actions. She knows she didn't handle the confrontation well. It's admitting a culpability that she can't give much voice to and it's admitting that she so very sorry it came to that. It spiraled out of control so quickly.

But it all still stands: she can't trust him and she can't follow him.

And that? That hurts.] It did happen, though. We cannot go back.

No. We can't.

[He knows that, and he doesn't expect things to go back to how they were. He doesn't want them to. He just doesn't want it to be like Anna, where they don't speak, and there's this tension and bitterness between them when there can be something, anything, else. He lost her at home--he lost everyone--and even if things will never be the same, it doesn't have to be like that either.

He's silent a few moments.]

But we can go forward.

[It's the only thing they can do, really.]

Be careful here, Rachel. If you ever have reason or need, do not hesitate to contact me.

[She doesn't know what to say to him. There's a horrible bitterness that steals her words and drowns her emotion. It's a long moment before she answers.]

I will remember that.

[Whether she'll ever call on him remains to be seen. Without cutting the feed -- she doesn't know how to yet -- she sets the NV aside and moves away.]

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