That's How Friendship Fucking Works

Participants:

emily_icon.gif geneva_icon.gif

Scene Title That's How Friendship Fucking Works
Synopsis Emily and Geneva have disagreements as to the implications of the term.
Date February 23, 2019

Elmhurst

Julie and Emily's Apartment


It is strange. The residence of the younger Epstein had practically become a second home for Geneva in recent weeks, but for some ungodly reason, this visit had been much harder to summon up the audacity for than any she had made in the past. The girl had thus taken her time walking to her destination, mittened hands shoved moodily into her pockets, her figure an irascibly hunched silhouette passing lazily beneath the shadow of Elmhurst Hospital and the buildings beyond. The sounds of her boots crunching through sludge and winter detritus barely reach her ears as she crosses into the dilapidated streets marking where Emily lives; there is simply too much on her mind.

Still blinking wintry sunlight out of her eyes as she adjusts to the dimmer lighting inside, it is nonetheless not long at all before Gene has arrived before Emily's apartment door, a well-used leather satchel slung over her shoulder.

…And then she knocks. Less rudely than she had the last time, as well.

It takes a moment for the door to open, but the locks turn and the frame opens to reveal Emily, one hand running back through her hair while she squints bleary-eyed at the person on the other side of her door. There's no confusion, or even questioning why Geneva is there unexpectedly— No suspicion about it, either. The teen might not be awake enough for any of that, possibly, but it could be a product of the familiarity that comes with sharing a home previously.

"Sorry—" she pauses to yawn, waving her in. "I was napping." Pre-emptively shaking her head, she insists, "It's fine. I needed to get up anyway. There's shit to be doing." Her hand goes back to her scalp, ruffling her hair back out and hanging on the side of her neck when that's done. Still trying to shake off the tired, she lets her head fall back with a sigh as she closes the door behind Geneva and resets the locks again.

The invitation is accepted wordlessly and Geneva lets herself in, trampling out the muck from underneath her boots and not looking at the door as it is relocked behind her. "My bad for waking you up," she offers anyways, taking in the whole of Emily's somewhat disheveled appearance in a single casual glance. "I would've texted, but, y'know." Most of the Safe Zone still lacking adequate cell service makes such a civility rather difficult.

In direct response to Emily's indication of tiredness, Gene reaches to undo the latches of her satchel, pulling out a red, papery rectangular package. She gives it a waggle, making the label visible: it's a bag of coffee beans. An upscale brand, one of the more expensive Red Hook has to offer. "…Though, it’s probably lucky that I brought this then."

"Oh shit," is Emily's appreciative response to seeing the bag of coffee beans, her eyes lighting up and her posture straightening as she looks at it. Her hands go out automatically in a universal 'gimme' gesture, hands closing to palms. Just at seeing coffee she seems wake more, eyes more open than before.

"You know, you can always text anyway. There's just a chance I'll only get it a minute before you get here." That much is said with a smirk, but it's followed with a light sigh. "You guys really should pool together to get like a family GhostNet plan or something. Or hell, there's another company that's coming in and offering service soon, too, aren't they?" One eye is squinted thoughtfully before she shrugs.

"I'll need a phone, first," is Geneva's dry response as she tosses the desired item into Emily's hands in an offhand, nonchalant arc so the other girl can do with it what she pleases. That was the primary problem to overcome: it was a pain to chase someone else down whenever the dire need arose to use a cell phone, which admittedly wasn't often. "Since you mention it, I might look into GhostNet. Now that I can actually afford some kind of service."

Hooray for having a paying job.

But she then shifts the topic to something more personally interesting, moving to set her worn satchel somewhere down on the floor where it will not be in the way. "How have you been doing? And none of that evasive crap— you can be honest." They have known each other for long enough, by Gene's estimation.

"You should." Emily is enthusiastic as well as serious about that. She turns the coffee bag over in her hand to get a better view on the brand and is still looking it over when Geneva hits her for the status update.

She keeps looking down at it in silence, and finally flips the beans onto the couch. "I'm…" she starts, and then brings both hands to her face, rubbing roughly. A long sigh comes from between her fingers as she buries the urge to reply with the word 'Fine', her arms swinging back down by her side once that's done.

Gene's seen you worse than this. Emily coaches herself. It won't kill you to be honest.

"There's been ups and downs," she admits mildly, not quite looking back at Geneva as she says it. "I shouldn't have taken my struggling out on trying to fix other people's problems. The shit with Magnes and his daughter is … way more complicated than I thought. No easy happy ending reunion there."

There's a brief pause as Emily counts her blessings. Geneva was here, and was alive. And so was Eileen for that matter. That counted for something, and she needed to treat that with the gravity it deserved.

"I got pissed at Joe the other day again," she notes with some irritation. Getting exasperated with him wasn't normally newsworthy so she elaborates: "He kept trying to say what happened to you had been the stuff people dream about, and I just…" Jaw setting, she shakes her head, leaning over the couch to swipe up the bag and head for the kitchen to put it away properly. Her pajama pants whisper on the tile. "He has some nerve, you know?"

She lets out an unsteady breath, the sharp tightness in her chest there again. It comes back all too easily, even if usually she doesn't acknowledge its presence.

"I checked in with Eileen a couple days ago, and I'll be seeing her again beginning of March." is said while she closes the cabinet back up. "We talked more than I thought we would. She's…" Emily finally turns back to Geneva, her brow furrowing as she looks back. Uniquely, perhaps, the other teen might understand the conflict that's there in her demeanor. "I can't believe how different she is, Gene. She's not at all like…" You know, that other version of her.

Geneva listens both critically and sympathetically, though with slightly widened eyes at first: she half-hadn't expected Emily to come out and spill the beans right from the get-go. Hearing about Magnes and Addie causes her to give a head a short shake. "Yeah, family shit is usually stupid complicated. Think it just comes with the territory, no matter whose family. Don’t… try not to beat yourself up over it." If there is one thing she can most certainly relate to. "If you don’t mind my asking, what’s the story behind Magnes' kid being off in Providence with Eileen?"

When Joe is mentioned, she closes her eyes and makes a small disgusted noise. "I haven't really seen eye-to-eye with him for a while. He was all worried about Weasel and me dropping murder on some assholes we ran across— as if we would've— but when I'm the one who about dies, I guess it's some kind of joke." There is a twisted grimace: "If I'd to guess, it's ‘cause of his ability. It's almost impossible for him to get hurt, so he doesn't really understand what it feels like when others do." As plausible an explanation as she can think of, at any rate.

There is a beat. A contemplative one, but also filled with some amount of concern as she sees the reaction from Emily.

"You know, I've been thinking about Eileen lately, too. I'm still getting used to the idea of there being two of them. Well, having been two of them. And them being two completely different people, like you said. This dimensional shit is still fucking bizarre." Her dark-blue eyes flash upwards again towards Emily’s face, curious. “How did you first get to be friends with her, anyway?”

Emily's expression flattens about the kidnapping, a somewhat dubious look that accompanies her almost every time she talks about the unusual. It's not accompanied by a sarcastic tone. "The… conduit. It's a thing that held the person or personality or something of Kazimir Volken. When she got the conduit, he took control. Destroyed Eileen's life, tried to rebuild the Vanguard where they were from, and… kidnapped Magnes' daughter , and another child. 'Lynette Ruiz's son', she said, so… actually from wherever Gray was from, I think." Her eyes narrow and she shakes her head to get back on track. "Something happened and Eileen snapped and was able to take back control. She was afraid what Volken would do to Addie, and she separated him from herself and trapped his mind in a bird." She pauses only a beat. That transference thing is a touchy thing to bring up, but at least that instance of it had been for an objectively good cause. She looks down at the counter, fingertips tapping along the edge. "So that's complicated."

"She was kidnapped, but Eileen and the others made sure the kids stayed alive. Stayed safe. Got them here, where Addie is — from, or should be." she summarizes it. "Addie fell in love with her new family, though. And when I met her, she called someone else her dad. So — getting her away from the people Eileen Gray came over with safely and not traumatizing Addie in the process…"

That seemed to be the trouble.

Emily can only glance up at Geneva again sympathetically when she brings up why Joe didn't seem to understand. She'd had the same thought, and nods tepidly to echo it. She steps from the kitchen and wanders back to the couch and coffee table, laptop long-opened and abandoned, its screen black from sleep. She tips it closed for now, seeing as there was other conversation going on.

She lets out a quiet laugh at the comment about 'dimensional shit.' Yeah, this is out there. she thinks to herself, arms folding snugly across her chest as she stands back up. "I wasn't friends with her," is said without a noticeable change in tone, but it starts to slow as she pulls herself back. "We…" Emily looks off, unable to voice their surreal first meeting properly. Not now, maybe not ever. She says with forced clarity and eyes closing, "I'd met her, and she offered me a job. Sh—"

Sharing is uncomfortable. It only presents in her posture and pauses, her voice otherwise plain and informative with minimal emotional lifts.

"One night last fall, some guy flew out of an alley and was getting the shit beat out of him. I couldn't keep my mouth shut, and was nearly dragged off for it by the thugs who threw him. He had my arm, and I somehow got his gun, and suddenly she was there behind me." The memory is strong — the mist, the dark, the unfamiliar weight in her hand. The fear. She blinks hard to come back to the moment. "We talked, after that, and … I told her I would help her with errands in the Safe Zone, and that I was looking for a healer. After I met the healer, there was the incident at Raytech, and then I went looking for Sibyl. And from there…"

She glances back to Geneva. Well, she knew the rest, from there.

Just somehow, absorbing these fantastical explanations is becoming slightly easier for Geneva after being subject to so many of them. Slightly. In contrast to the flat look Emily is wearing, the expression on Gene's face evolves into something more immersed as she takes this in. "This… conduit shit again," are the pensive words that escape her first. "So, that was why the other one was such a fucked up asshole? That would help explain some things, I guess. Christ." Now that she knows firsthand what it is actually like to be caught in such a trap, she has to suppress a shiver; the only thing that stops that reaction from growing is knowing that if anyone deserved it, it was Kazimir.

When Emily moves off, Gene takes advantage of the interlude to drift over in the direction of the couch and sit herself down, her lips pursed at the explanation given for Addie. "How old is this kid?" she asks, distractedly folding her feet out in front of her once she is seated. "It doesn't sound like it's a good idea to pull her away from her 'family', if that's what they're treating her like. But, with Magnes involved… I can see why that'd be hard. Does she even know he's her dad?"

Then there is a moment of appreciative silence. Though the signs are subtle, Gene has not missed the effort Emily is putting forth to be so forthcoming; it is something of her past self that she can see in her friend, and there is a muted look of guessed understanding in her eyes.

"That was brave of you," she comments, noting mentally that this must occurred been well before Emily was healed. She can’t help but lift her brows in a note of finality, finishing the sentence that had been started. “…..and from there, you’ve got all this shit that’s happened. Jesus.”

A squint. “Are you doing okay with all of this? This is a fuckload for just one person to deal with. Half, hell most of it doesn’t even sound like your responsibility.”

"The black conduit is dangerous. It … corrupts. I don't know if the same goes for the white one. The other Eileen got herself back from Kazimir, but…" Emily's head starts to tilt to the side, as if the topic itself is a heavy weight pulling on it. The thought of Eileen's potential corruption. "But it took years." she tries to justify it, to calm herself and Geneva down before they try to wrap their minds around that Big Problem.

They already had enough of those on deck. And on a lesser note, like Gene had just pointed out, it wasn't their responsibility.

Her posture starts to reright as she thinks back on how old Odette appeared. "I don't know… like six? Seven?" Emily guesses. "I— She has to remember him." is guessed next, with far less certainty. Her eyes narrow, almost pained. "How could she forget?"

Looking down at her folded arms, she picks at her sleeve. "Magnes jumped through time and space to get home, to get his daughter back. He's a loose cannon with a sparked fuse, and I don't think anybody has a clear eye on how much is left. He used his ability on me the moment he saw me, tried to drag me off into an alley. I'm lucky things didn't go worse, that he let go." A distant expression flickers in her gaze, fear and walls against both present in equal parts.

She doesn't look back up as she confesses, "I'm not okay. I've not been okay. If I don't keep moving forward and have something to focus on, I'll be less okay. But right now?" Her head shakes once. "I'm scared. I can handle this, but I'm no less scared." Her chest deflates after making the admission.

Geneva's comment about her bravery causes her shoulders to tense, almost like a shrug, in self-awareness. She notes, "Eileen told me thank you for getting Sibyl out that night. You deserve just as much thanks. She also said she put too much on me."

"Maybe she's right, but we are where we are, and I'm… I'm getting there, Gene. I think I can help." The way she says it lacks to overt desperation of needing to have something to right, or needing to prove herself, and she follows it with, "It's not going to be a fairytale experience, but maybe things can be better if all the cards are played right. If all the right secrets are kept, Eileen gets to get Addie out safely, maybe even with Joshua's blessing. But if things go sideways, if they find out Eileen is who she is, for instance — she could die. The people she's surrounded by are all dangerous. They'll probably kill her if they put everything together and realize she's been living in her other's skin. And that's just one possible thing that could go wrong."

The stakes were that high.

Emily looks pensive for a moment, refocusing on Geneva with a sharpening expression. "You haven't told anybody, right?"

"You said Kazimir's gone now, right? Trapped in a bird? In bitch-Eileen's dimension, right?" This is said Geneva rather suspiciously after Emily's comment about it having taken years to work free from his malicious influence, as if she needs to have this confirmed beyond a reasonable shadow of a doubt. If there was even a chance that this world's Eileen could be corrupted in the same fashion.

As she sits in thought about Addie, she reaches up to scratch distractedly behind one of her shoulderblades. Her eyes widen in a small blaze when Emily reveals just who it was who had assaulted her. "…It was fucking Magnes who jumped you in an alley? Christ, I knew that dude was trouble. I don't know if I told you, but I had one of those— weird visions about myself and a load of other people getting shot because of Magnes at some party. No wonder Eileen wants to handle this carefully." Sweet lord baby Jesus. But there is a wry little smile as well: “Also, I didn’t do anything. You were the one who arranged all that shit Em, I just sat and ran my mouth at a possessed murderer.”

After another moment, she seems on the verge of shaking her head in response to Emily’s query but she stops herself. "Only Squeaks, I promise," she says with a little sigh. "She seems like a trustworthy kid, and she was asking after her. I think she wants to give Eileen back her journal or something."

Emily hesitantly starts to shake her head, realizing belatedly that might've been a good thing to clarify. "I don't know what happened to him," she admits, lifting a hand from her folded arms to let it hang off the side of her neck while she wonders about that. She's oblivious to the misunderstanding that's occurred.

She winces when Geneva starts to get fired up. "No, I set up a meeting with Magnes after playing Nancy fucking Drew to find his contact information. I cold-called him, got the voicemail, arranged to meet him at Red Hook Market. So technically, he 'jumped' me in broad daylight." If she was going to be incensed on her behalf, it would do better to provide a proper summary so she knows what to be angry about. "It was bizarre. He looked at me, he just started walking away, and I got dragged with him. I grabbed onto a pole and managed to talk him down. Spent the whole fucking time trying to talk him down." Her hand moves from her neck to firmly rub at the bridge of her nose with her fingertips instead.

As a result, she misses Geneva's visible hesitation and only hears the result. She looks up instantly, brow shooting heavensward. "You told Squeaks." Emily repeats back wearily, having no other immediate words. She can't decide if that's a good or a bad thing.

If Emily didn't know better, it would appear to her that Geneva is nearly disappointed for not having an excuse to become properly enraged. Still, once the explanation is all said and done, she still looks than pleased. "Like you said, that guy's a loose cannon," she remarks, ignoring the clear hypocrisy of this statement coming from someone like her. "Moreso if him going off the deep end about his kid is going to put Eileen and the rest of them in danger."

She shifts her booted feet around on the floor, made a little uncomfortable by the trauma in Emily's voice. "I'm positive she won't tell anyone," she offers in order to ameliorate the situation. Squeaks had, after all, done a pinky promise and had seemed extremely serious about it. "I made her swear not to, and I made sure she knew damn well what would happen if she did. From what I could tell, she looks at Eileen as something like a hero. She won’t do anything stupid."

Not like her, at any rate.

"I needed to talk to her anyway," Emily admits in the same tone of voice, tongue to cheek as she considers what to do with that information. "About the journal, actually. Squeaks and Lance wanted to clear Eileen's name as a traitor, but putting the journal out there is probably not the way to go about it. So… I'm going to take it, give it back to her."

Gene's observation about Squeaks' view of Eileen goes with a twinge of a sardonic smile. "Wonder what she'd think to hear that?" Her arms come to a fold again as she remembers the comment the woman had passed about idolization. A thought starts and catches at the back of Emily's throat, her grip around her elbow tightening as she patiently waits to see if the words will come.

"She said what she knew about Eileen was from what Lance had told her. And reading the journal." There is a one-shouldered shrug from Geneva, who seems mildly relieved that her choice to inform Squeaks has been accepted without incident. Or at least, not met with outright panic.

A thought of Gene's own had been lingering in the back of her mind, and she brings it forth now, echoing the memory of Emily's words from earlier in the conversation. She raises a slight but meaningful eyebrow. "I know it might not do much especially after last time, but let me help if I can. Or fuck, do something. Squeaks was worried that you might be getting into trouble, and I don't know, she might be right?" How somebody of Emily's stature manages to mix herself up all the snafus that she does, she is still quite positive she has no idea.

Emily stiffens when Geneva starts to show her concern, instantly ceasing in trying to pry her internal walls back to talk about an even more delicate, personal topic. She withdraws back emotionally like she's blindly grabbed a red-hot iron, abruptly affected without yet knowing why.

An explosive breath of laughter tears away from her. "No shit?" Emily quips as she looks back to her, her brow starting to knit. Her voice takes on a sharp edge to it. "Just take one look at what happened the last time I let someone in even a little. Look what it nearly cost you. I should have told you to go home and forget about what happened instead of letting you stay. It was a hole I dug but one you nearly got buried in instead."

Her voice is even except for when she swears as she asks, "Why the fuck would I want to let anyone else, especially Squeaks, near anything like that?"

"I'm not letting anyone else get hurt over my decisions. If there's fallout from trying to do the right thing, it falls on me and no one else." Emily states fiercely, like saying it might ensure it happens. "And you…" A sour expression comes over her as she wishes she could take back a lot of what she'd said earlier, all of the honesty that was causing this worry of Geneva's to come out. "I shouldn't have brought up any of this." she mutters like a swear at herself.

"There's one tiny thing that you're forgetting." Though this is said with mildness at first, there is a familiar steel's edge of stubborness behind it. The obstinate countenance that Geneva is currently wearing confirms this. "And that's that you're not in charge of me. You're not my mother, you know? It's a little different for Squeaks, sure, because she's a kid, but hell, I'm the same age as you. I'm not your responsibility. My decisions are my own."

Gene's piercing gaze travels to Emily's face, and her fingers curl and flex adamantly on her lap. "Now, using your own logic. How do you think I would feel if something happened to you because you're off playing lone tragic hero, and I didn't do anything about it?" She folds her arms across her chest with a very final expression. "…Listen. I may have been a little shit at the Lighthouse, but if there was one thing that got through my skull there, it was that you don't get to choose when to shut everyone out. Not when you’ve got people who care about you. Sorry, Em. Just not how it works."

"For Christ's sake," Emily groans with a roll of her eyes. "Don't make this out to be more than it is. Nobody's playing the fucking hero, Gene." Her shoulders have squared, tension in the fold of her arms.

"And you're right," she concedes flatly, still running mouth before head. "You're not my responsibility, and neither am I yours. You don't have to try and assume my problems as your own. They're mine to deal with — this, or any fucking thing else, you hear?" She doesn't agree with the way it came out, but there's no way to take it back.

God, shutting people out was a lot easier when you hadn't let them in in the first place.

There is sudden, icy silence.

A definite period when Geneva debates getting angry, but instead, she just looks at Emily with an unreadable expression on her face. "Fine," she says at last, using an intonation that could not be more dead-sounding. "You deal with your problems, and I'll deal with mine. Period. That's how friendship fucking works I guess, right?" Scooping up her satchel where she had discarded it on the floor, she stands and shakes her head tightly, setting it back on her shoulder without so much as a single extra expletive.

Then, she is headed towards the door, from which she does not turn around before giving her final taut response:

"I'll see you again when and if you get your head on straight."

"You're damn right that's how it works." The snap back is instant, but Emily already feels regret clawing at her, even if she can't stop herself from saying any of it. What was she doing? She wanted Geneva to stay back, but why was she acting like this to achieve it? "You don't get to play the 'I do what I want' card and then get mad at me for dealing with my shit my way."

What the fuck are you doing, Epstein?

She stares a hole in Geneva's back while she wonders that, internally immobilized from doing anything else to either salvage the situation or damn it further.

But at this point, Geneva has already said everything that she has intended to say. She exhales slowly as these strident words reach her ears, inwardly attempting to steady herself from saying anything that she will regret, as well. It is difficult. Millions of possible words spin vaguely through her mind, but she gives voice to none of these.

Instead, her hand curls around the door handle in a more forceful grip than is probably necessary. "…Like I said. Have it all your way."

If tone alone could kill.

Then the door falls shut behind her, and Emily is left with nothing but the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps and perhaps more feelings on the situation than she would like.


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