Participants:
| Scene Title | Before the Fall |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Lynette and Eve make a pact of sorts. |
| Date | June 25, 2018 |
The past several weeks have been rough, but this last one has definitely taken the cake. Lynette responded to Mateo's ultimatum with as much decorum as she could manage, did her best to keep her more emotional responses buried, and has been spending a lot of time in her office. Any excuse not to be at home, really. Because she respects his wishes. And she knows he's doing what he can to help her.
She got as drunk as possible the next day, tucked away alone, feeling sorry for herself.
After that, she tried. She really tried. She had a couple days where she was distracted enough to not think about it for most of the day, even. But what she has come to accept in the last week is that she cannot force herself back into sobriety. She really wanted to. She felt like she should be able to. But she can't.
And this is what has brought her to Eve's door. It's late. She's had a drink downstairs because why not at this point? But it's clearly not helping her feel better, because she looks on the verge of tears no matter how she tries to hide it.
She knocks.
The door opens as she knocks and Eve is standing there with a faint smile on her face. “Lady.” The loft is behind her, plants everywhere. It smells like something is in the oven. “Let's eat.”
Pulling the electrokinetic inside the seer hums as she lumps to the kitchen table to lean against it and tilt her head. “Baked pasta, pesto, tomato, potato! Kidding! No potato.” It just rhymed. Beaming over at Lynette she wanders over to the stove to check on said dish with a wave at the table. “Sit sit.” The loft is clean, the most clean that Eve has ever kept it. Eimi had been out and about and Eve had got to straighten up.
“Don't mind Spike! He's harmless.” She says about the battle drone in the corner of the living room, a gift from a Ghost. A sneaky smile on her lips, “I wanna take him for a spin sometime, we would have to convince The Major.” A quip, she knows that ain’t happening.
Candles light the space, the hallway leading to Eve’s bedroom and Eimi’s dark save for a candle that must be lit in the bathroom with the door ajar. Her fingers curl over the metal of her staff and she leans as she stares at Lynette.
Lynette is glad to see her, even if she is distraught at the moment. The laugh that follows her invitation to dinner is a little manic. She's easy to get inside, and she hangs onto Eve's hand all the way to the table. "It smells amazing," she says, even if there ends up actually being potatoes because you never know with Eve. Sitting when she's told to, Lynette leans over to rest her forehead against the table.
"Why do you have a drone, Eve?" she asks, even though the answer is bound to be something strange. Maybe because the answer is bound to be something strange.
Eventually, she gets that feeling of being stared at and she lifts up to look over at her. There's only a brief pause before she tries to explain what she's doing here. Even though Eve probably already knows.
"Did you mean it? That you'd come to recovery with me?"
“In case of emergencies silly! They’d never expect it! Spike looks harmless!” Beaming at Lynette that close before she takes a seat across from her. No weed, no alcohol in sight. The seer looks fresh faced though she looks over her shoulder a few times before waving off the feeling. Ever since her vision with black eyes and the encounter with that telepath, she didn't feel totally at ease. It's a wonder Eve can sit here so calmly now.
“I am.” Serious that is.
Trailing a finger in a loose circle on the table she eyes the invisible symbol, “If you're ready. I'm ready,” a pause as she looks to the window as if she sees something there. Finding nothing but a feeling she shrugs, “So many things at work. Pieces of the puzzle getting soggy won't do.” It's for the greater good.
“Are you scared? ..I am.” There's a history of these sort of situations for Eve. Pills, therapy and even straight jackets for a time. The thought of coming even remotely close to that reality makes her squeamish. “It never seems to last forever.” Sobriety. Stability.
Lynette casts a look over at Spike, but accepts Eve's answer easily. She can't argue with wanting to be prepared for anything. When the oracle sits, she reaches over to put her hand over Eve's. "I don't know that I'm ready, but I know that I've lost control. Mateo won't even sleep next to me, Eve. And the only thing I wanted to do when he told me was drink until it didn't matter. Which I tried, but apparently there isn't enough alcohol in the safe zone to achieve that. And you're right that we need to be sharp. Everything that's coming, we need to be."
During the Ferrymen's exile, during the war, Lynette spent a lot of time dulled by whatever she could get her hands on. It's how she got through it. It's how she wants to get through this. But she never had to think through those times. Someone else did the thinking and pointed her in a direction. That won't work this time.
Not if she's going to keep her family safe.
The question has her squeezing Eve's hand, for comfort and to give it as well. "Yes." It's easy to admit fear here, even if she doesn't to anyone else. "It won't last forever, no. You and I, what we're starting needs constant upkeep. Vigilance. And sometimes we'll fall. But we do it together so we can pick each other back up, right? I'll always be an addict. That's never going to go away, I just have to keep it at bay. Your ability, the things it shows you? That won't ever change. How it affects you won't, either. But we'll help you find ways to cope with it. And I promise, you'll be fully informed of what your options are and what the treatment is like. They won't do anything that you're not comfortable with." No straightjackets. No padded rooms. No pills forced on her. "I have my best and kindest therapist on hold for you, but if you're unhappy with anything, you tell me."
Eve, as far as she's concerned, is family.
Closing her eyes in relief Eve releases a soft sigh that lingers in the silence, the memories of those places, those things are swept away by the reassurance from Lynette. She knows of numbing and Eve had seen it in Lynette, her brown eyes convey empathy and understanding. “Otter Eyes must be very cold at night.” The darkness was seeping in between her friends, a finger twitches.
“Vigilance.”
Eve knew about that. She could do that. Telling herself on the inside almost made her feel at ease. She wasn't going to allow herself to not be vigilant. She wouldn't allow Lynette not to be either. The oracle brings both of her hands to cup Lynette’s face staring deep into her blue eyes. “We will. Fall together. We rise together. You are my sister.” Tears on the brim as she stares at the blonde. “I trust you. I’ll be good.” And she makes that promise with something nagging at her from the back of her mind but she's trying to not look at it. Later. She thinks but nothing answers of course.
"He probably is. I am. I haven't been sleeping well without him." Not that she sleep very well anyway, but worse now. Lynette never intended to sleep without him ever again, and this has just confirmed that it's awful. "He's a good husband. He cares about my recovery and that means a lot to me. It's my fault it got this far in any case," she admits with a sigh, "it's mine to repair."
When Eve takes her face, Lynette covers her hands with her own. A tear slips down her cheek at those words, at the support she has from her friend, at the trust she's showing. She leans forward to kiss Eve's forehead before drawing her into a hug. "Sisters," she echoes warmly, "that sounds perfect to me."
“We make messes but we always mop them up,” a sign of support for the blonde. Eve was a mess, this was true. Her head, her life. Stability. Discretion. Words she repeats in her mind, words much different than the usual ones. Lynette had a good piece. A good other half. She thinks of Ghost, she should call him.
He would like a tame Eve? She liked a rogue Ghost.
Sisters.
Eve’s grin is wide and her eyes gentle as they touch foreheads. “Watch out world.” There's a moment where Eve wants to pursue other topics but those topics can wait. They were on the road to recovery. “There is much to do Lady Zeus. You will be ready.” Looking down at her leg, “And so will I. More rehab for the lame foot.”
"That's exactly right," Lynette lets out a sigh, "even though it's hard." That part comes with a crooked, wry smile. Because it is hard. And obviously, she's tripped over it. And because she tripped over it, she fell all the way down. It was bound to happen at some point, but she'd done so well for so long, she had unrealistic expectations built up around her perceived success.
Pride cometh, etc.
"Damn right." Because they both know a tamed Eve is not truly tamed. Neither is a tamed Lynette. They're both wolves caught in meditation. "We'll both be ready," she says and she nods toward the offending leg, "Mind and body."