Honesty's Wound


colette_icon.gif tasha_icon.gif

Scene Title Honesty's Wound
Synopsis Colette comes to confess to Tasha about what happened with Sable and finds understanding in the arms of someone who trusts her.
Date May 25, 2010

The Lighthouse

Tasha had bedtime duty — making sure everyone brushed their teeth and washed and got in bed on time, then lights-out check some time later. She herself has retreated to the bedroom, where she sits curled up in the corner of the bed, knees drawn up with the sketchpad on them in her usual sketching position. The box of pastels is beside her, though it's only three-quarters full after she threw away the unsalvageable pastels broken into too-small of pieces to be useful. The remaining crayons are broken in various sizes, though a few miraculously survived the skirmish.

A familiar face gazes up from the sketchpad — Colette's, in three quarter view, as Tasha just didn't have the heart to draw the milky eye in color, nor did she want to pretend all was well and color both eyes green. Instead, a lock of hair and shadow fall over the right eye while the left is fully visible, jade green and luminous. Spirals and swirls of color surround the face and shoulders (yellow spaghetti straps all that are visible), and an orange heart adorns the cheek beneath the green eye.

When the door opens, Tasha closes the lid to the pastel box, though the box itself is cracked and crunched in one corner.

Snorting in a sniffle and wiping at one eye with her middle finger, Colette seems a little shaken when she comes in to the bedroom. Her jeans are rolled up almost to her knees, damp on the bottom from being outside as long as she had been. The black turtleneck sweater she wears seems dry though, a slimming accent to her already dangerously skinny frame. "Hey…" comes across as a little emotional and Colette quietly closes the bedroom door behind herself, leaning against it with her full weight.

She's wearing Tasha's socks, this much is evident from the black and purple striped pair adorned on her feet. "I um, I just got back from McRae's a few minutes ago… sorry I— sorry I didn't come up right away." Swallowing noisily, Colette takes a few meandering steps into the room, shoulders hunched and brows furrowed, her head canting to the side as her teeth toy with her lower lip.

The sketch pad is set aside, and Tasha clambers over the bed to stand and hurry to Colette. "Are you okay? What's wrong? I didn't know you went to McRae's — I would have gone with you," she says in a rushed and rambling babble of worry at seeing Colette upset again, her brows knitting together as she reaches to touch Colette's hand.

"Come on, your pants are all wet, get into something dry," she adds, going to the chest of drawers and opening it, pulling out the first pair of flannel bottoms she finds and tossing them to Colette. "What's going on?" She backs up to sit on the bed, giving Colette the space to undress in the tiny bit of floor space in the small room.

Fingers curled into those flannel pants, Colette closes her eyes and shakes her head. "I um," her brows furrow, light dimming in the room as all the candles seem to shed less light, up until Colette realizes that's her doing. When the light normalizes again, Colette looks up to Tasha and then down to the clothing in her hands before hugging the pants to her chest. "I had to deliver a message and some food out to McRae's, it was last minute and I thought I'd get it done before I locked up. I ah, I got out new orders while I was out there too."

Treading over to the bed on socked toes, Colette pauses on consideration of sitting, then looks down at her snow-dampened pants and gently sets the flannel bottoms down on the bedside next to Tasha. "How much do you know about Aaron?" When she asks the question, Colette's mis-matched eyes lift up to the brunette sitting in front of her, and there's a visible tightness in her throat, but also a very difficult to manage smile of reassurance, trying to insinuate to Tasha that it's not Tasha's fault that Colette is upset.

"Next time lemme know, I'd have gone with you. Unless.. unless you needed space," Tasha says quietly again. After all, they've been near one another 24-7 and maybe Colette needed a breather. When Colette sits, Tasha brings her own feet back up onto the bed, arms drawing them together. Her feet, for once, are bare, toenails painted navy blue, something she must have done since Colette was downstairs.

"I don't know much about him at all," Tasha says with a shake of her head. "Just that he's a musician and a friend of Gillian's. I think he used to be in some band, though." She grew up in the area, so she vaguely remembers the Lightbringers.

"Hey— no— no never— " Colette makes a soft sound in the back of her throat, dragging the flannel pants away and clearing the distance between herself and Tasha, wrapping her arms around the other girl's shoulders, dragging her over and pulling her into her lap, one arm behind her back and the other up to press a hand to Tasha's cheek. Colette squeezes her close, leaning in to press a kiss to Tasha's forehead. "Never need space from you, don't— even— no."

Cuddling the brunette in her arms close, Colette noses around in Tasha's hair, kissing gently at her scalp. "You were taking care of the kids and I had a few minutes. It was a short walk, just a few blocks…" that's the last impression she wants to give with what Colette wants to discuss.

"Um, Tasha— Aaron's…" How to even explain this? It's not the easiest situation. "Aaron's like me, he's— he has a special power. I… I dunno what it is he does, I mean, not exactly, but… but he messes with people's emotions. He takes like, pain and stuff, bad emotions away and people react differently to it. Sometimes people like… sometimes it goes backwards, makes people go ballistic and stuff?" Trying to broach the topic of Sable's freakout indirectly, Colette allows pause enough for Tasha to imply meaning from the words but not long enough to speak an answer.

"I found him freaking out like, last week. I guess— I guess he hasn't had much negative emotions to feed on lately." Colette's nose wrinkles, "his words, not mine. It makes him sound like, you know, like a vampire or some shit. But like, I told him if he wanted any of my unhappy grumpness I get sometimes he could have all of it and— " Colette looks away, down to the floor, though her grip around Tasha tightens some.

Tasha's eyes widen at the explanation of the power — she had thought maybe one of the children was manifesting something, when Sable described her outburst as being as surreal and outside of herself as it was. "That's… that might explain some things," she says, as diplomatically as she can without saying more about the situation. Her eyes flicker to the broken box of pastels as she leans against Colette, letting the other cuddle her as she wraps an arm around Colette's waist.

"Okay — that's good, right? I mean… you deserve to not feel bad, and if he can help you —" Tasha frowns a little, mixed feelings clear on her face. She wants to be the one to lift Colette's mood, and if Colette felt she needed to go to Aaron, then maybe Tasha isn't enough. "You don't have to explain anything to me. That's … good."

There's a noise in the back of Colette's throat, an uncomfortable sound before she presses her lips down to Tasha's forehead. "It— I almost did something I would've regretted for a long time," Colette murmurs into Tasha's hairline, stroking her fingers at Tasha's cheek slowly. "I was talking to Sable when it— when it happened. She— she was working on something for the kids and I just— I like— I attacked her." The word is a carefully chosen one, though one that has several different kinds of interpretations. That Tasha didn't hear anything remotely sounding like violence downstairs, the implications are somewhat metaphorical.

"I'm sorry," Colette whispers as she draws her arms around Tasha tighter, "God I am— so sorry. I didn't— I just— I kissed her and I am so, so sorry." Colette's jaw gives one tiny tremble, but she manages to keep her emotions reined in as bets as she can. Her eyes water, but she doesn't cry, she's struggling to try and be strong through this."

"I love you," Colette whispers with a tight voice into Tasha's hair, "I just— I didn't— I didn't— I don't want to hurt you, I'm— I'm so sorry. I just…" there's a hitch of her voice again, straining not to break down, "you deserve to know the truth. I— I will never lie to you."

The noise Colette makes has Tasha's eyes welling up with tears even before Colette makes her confession — the sound of pain alone is enough to evoke pain in Tasha immediately, and her arms tighten around Colette as the other speaks. Her brows knit together and she nods once, then one arm loosens its grip to bring her thumbnail to her mouth to chew — something she hasn't done in quite a few days.

She nods again, and the tears that welled up in her eyes slip free, sliding down her cheeks. She holds her breath, afraid to make a sound that will hurt and upset Colette further.

"If… if it was just Aaron's power… it's not your fault," she whispers. This is something new to her — she's inexperienced in love, and hasn't had enough relationships or long enough relationships to even deal with the hint of infidelity, let alone someone confessing an almost slip of faithfulness.

"If… do… if… " she sighs and shakes her head, not sure of what she wants to say. "I want you to be happy, Colette," she finally says in a small voice, a tacit 'but' lingering on the end.

Fingers slide thrrugh Tasha's hair, blunted nails gently stroke along her scalp and thin arms hold her small frame close. "I am," Colette insists, letting her cheek touch Tasha's as she leans in while cradling her close. There's a tremor in her voice when she tries to talk, just sounds though, small and remorseful ones. Colette's palm brushes Tasha's cheek, lips kiss away the tears that wet them, and her nose gently touches the side of Tasha's. "I am happy…" she murmurs, "I'm— you've made me so happy, Tasha. You're… you're so wonderful, so sweet, so beautiful. I'm sorry."

Hiding her face shamefully down at the side of Tasha's neck, Colette curls her fingers gently into Tasha's hair at the back of her neck, squeezes her arms around the girl she's fallen so hapily in love with and struggles to maintain a semblance of compsure despite every fiber of her wanting to break down and cry and wait for the girl who sees everything to fix it.

Colette can't really expect that last part, not anymore. But that doesn't mean she's forgotten the comfort of believing that somehow Tamara could fix anything that was every wrong with her life, like some sort of genie. Colette never used to think she was naive; she never used to think a lot.

"Okay," Tasha whispers, dropping the hand at her mouth to wrap around Colette again, tightening and squeezing. "It's okay. You're telling me and that means you're not trying to hide it or anything and if Aaron somehow made it happen, then there's nothing to apologize for." She wants to believe it was all Aaron's doing, but part of her — unfortunately a loud part of her — is afraid that it's more than that. The same part that believes Sable does hate her, despite her words to the contrary.

"It's okay. I love you, Colette. It's okay. Don't cry. Just… if anything changes… if you … if you want Sable and not me," she swallows and buries her face against Colette's chest, both girls ostriching as they cling to each other, "tell me. Because I want you to be happy, even if…" she shakes her head and doesn't finish that thought, either.

Those words make Colette nervous, make that nagging fear in the back of her mind bristle just a little. "Tasha…" Colette offers a little breathily, letting her words fall down into the girl's hair at the top of her head now. "I had plenty of opportunities to… to be with her if that's what I wanted, but it isn'tshe isn't." One hand strokes up and down Tasha's back slowly, gently. "Sable's a friend, a good friend, but— but I don't love her. I love you."

Letting her fingers stroke thorugh the back of Tasha's hair, Colette noses at the top of her head, kissing softly between her words. "I'm here with you, right now… I'm— I love you so much. I'm not going to ever try to hide something like— like what happened from you. I'm sorry, I just— I didn't want you to ever think I'd hide the truth from you, no matter how hard it is." Colette's hand comes down to rest at the back of Tasha's neck, and damp pants be damned, she lays back slowly on the bed, keeping Tasha atop her as she does, letting her remain hidden against her chest, cradling her tenderly in her arms as she lays down with her.

"I'm sorry I hurt you…" Colette whispers, staring up at the ceiling, one arm wound tightly around Tasha's waist, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Tasha says, shaking her head and finally bringing it up to kiss Colette, her lips and Colette's both salty tasting from the tears that seem to never stop — even when they're happy. "I'm glad you felt you could tell me. And you can and I'm not mad, I just…" she shrugs, and knocks her forehead against Colette's. She's just sad, but she doesn't want to say it.

"No more being sorry, okay? What did you say about another order? What's next on the agenda?" Change of subject is in order, especially given the talk about never hiding things from one another, since Tasha is still hiding some things from Colette. "No more sorries."

The kiss makes everything better, or at least goes a long way to. Colette turns to roll onto her side slowly, taking Tasha with her, letting herself get tangled up in the other girl's arms, holding her close and letting their foreheads touch, nose to nose, the damp legs of COlette's jeans cold against Tasha's.

"Eileen sent out a notice to me…" Colette explains quietly, "said we should leave the Lighthouse sometime this week, and that our next destination is a safehouse called Gun Hill up in the Bronx…" Colette's nose brushes against Tasha's as she talks. "We're going to help the operator, some lady named Lynette," and Colette is picturing an old lady given that name, "we're, uh, taking Magnes and Sable with us," which is when Colette offers a grimacing smile to the affect that they seem to be a team now somehow. "Um, and— and we're going to be helping out getting the safe house back up and running now that the storm's over."

The cold wet legs of Colette's jeans get a sharp intake of breath and then a giggle from Tasha. "Out of those wet pants, they're freezing, and that's not just to try to get in your pants, I swear," the girl says, letting the tease shake off some of her complex tangle of emotions: fear, hurt, guilt, love.

At the news that Sable and Magnes are going as well, Tasha nods, a slightly tic of her brows into a frown before it is smoothed away by a conscious effort not to frown. "Do we all live there 24-7 or just work there during the day, or…?" she asks, softly. While she has forgiven Sable for the assault, she was looking forward to getting some space — not just from the yellow-eyed girl, but from so many people surrounding her at all times. It's something she should be used to after so many months in safehouses, but she was an only child whose parents worked late — there is a yearning for solitude that surprises her after years of wishing for siblings she'd never have.

The tease elicits a laugh from Colette and a smile that spreads across her lips. Snuggling in closer to Tasha, Colette lifts a damp and chilly leg to brush over the other girl's with a teasing giggle and a wrinkle of her nose. After that much-relieved laughter, Colette closes her eyes and lets her lips brush once across Tasha's before quietly offering elaboration.

"Eileen didn't specify, so… I don't think we have to. It is an apartment building though, so— I— I guess we could. I'm not really sure, though. I think since it's on Manhattan and the snow's gettin' all cleaned up I might spend some more time with my dad, and… and maybe you could come meet him an' stuff…" Colette lightly touches her nose to Tasha's, "I think as long as we get the job done, it doesn't matter where we stay."

Letting her hand finally move from Tasha's cheek, COlette lightly brushes her fingers down the girl's shoulder till finally resting her hand on Tasha's waist, followed by a tender kiss to the tip of her nose. "The idea of an apartment for just the two've us though… I— I do kinda' like the sound've it."

Everything Colette says and does makes Tasha shiver, from the chilly legs on her own to the mention of meeting parents to the thought of sharing their own little place. "Me too," she whispers, kissing the other lightly, though the pragmatic part of her interrupts the daydream for a moment.

"My mom said I was going to have to pay rent if I stayed with her — if I'm going to have to pay rent, I might as well pay rent to someplace besides my mom, I think. But I need a job… hopefully I can handle both Ferry duties and job and still have time for us," she says, the uncertainty, fear and hurt finally absent in her voice as talk of the future and plans pushes them away.

"Work for the Ferry," Colette very quickly asserts, her dark brows lifting and a smile spread across her lips. There's a plucking kiss across Tasha's lips and a hand sliding across her side, fingertips exploring the sliver of skin between the waistband of her pants and the bottom of her shirt until it finds the small of her back. "Cat's helping me get a job at this place called Alley Cat Couriers once the weather clears up enough. It's… what I do for the Ferry anyway, deliveries and stuff. So- I'd be getting paid for driving all 'round the city and getting money doing deliveries for the Ferrymen on the side. I bet you there's someone in the network who can offer you a job somewhere that won't interfere with your responsibilities…"

Lips find Tasha's again, not letting her answer as Colette delivers a slow, soft and warm kiss, her lips plucking at Tasha's lower again while her hand slides up between her shoulderblades beneath her shirt, hugging Tasha close and keeping her firmly held in that comforting embrace.

"Okay. Whatever works. I mean… I don't have a lot of job skills besides the art stuff, and I'm not that great at that yet, but I can be a lackey of some sort to someone," Tasha agrees. "I just don't wanna take money for Ferry things when that's not a job to me, but like, a … a cause." She shifts a little, head bumping the little box of pastels still on the bed. She picks it up and leans over the side of the bed to put the box on the ground, pushing it a little so it slides beneath the bed and out of the path of foot traffic so it won't get crunched more than it already is.

She comes back up, hair flopping in her eyes from her upside down moment, and curls back toward Colette. "We'll figure something out. If we can stay at the safehouse free of rent, more's the better, but otherwise… I mean, if you need to live with your dad most of the time, I get that. As long as I get you sometimes all to myself." She brushes her lips across the other's cheek. "Because I'm selfish that way."

"We're both very selfish," Colette agrees, pressing her nose gently against Tasha's cheek before looking askance towards the sketchbook that lays folded closed, especially since Tasha just tucked away the pastels. "Um…" there's a hesitant, nervous quality to Colette's voice as she looks from the sketchbook back to Tasha, lips pulling back in a smile. "Do— do you, um, think I could take a look at what you were working on?" There's a bit of a sheepish smile that Colette offers, her head ducking down and shoulders lifting as she tries to assess the reaction Tasha gives.

"I… I like your art," Colette admits, even if the only art she's really seen has been a half painted fish and some blue paint spattered all over herself. Then again, Colette may also think she makes a great canvas.

Tasha's cheeks color, but she nods, glancing at the sketchbook and then to Colette and smiling. "You haven't really seen any of my art, goose. But yeah, you can." She doesn't reach for the sketchbook but unwinds her arms from Colette so that the other can get it if she likes.

Most of the pages of the half-filled sketchbook are doodles — many drawings of Colette in various poses, most from memory, though some while the other was busy across the room while Tasha quickly captured the moment on paper. There is one page with the faces of all of the children of the Lighthouse in a circle, the center the actual lighthouse itself.

Then, there is the page of the CD covers for Magnes and Sable's band that she had been working on — the tattooed chest of the radioactive heart, the tattooed back of a mushroom cloud with a skull in it. Tasha had not retrieved the pastels and sketchbook herself, but Doyle had brought them to her some time later.

There is nothing between the CD cover and the portrait of Colette — this is the first time she's drawn anything in days.

Surprise paints itself across Colette's face, propped up on one elbow, staring down at the drawings one by one as she pages through them. Lips part in quiet disbelief on seeing pictures of herself in there and Colette looks up with those mismatched eyes from the pages to offer a vacant, surprised stare at Tasha. "These— " COlette's voice hitches in the back of her throat before she looks down again. "These are amazing…"

Pages go by, the album cover is paused on while Colettes' expression turns to one of bittersweet recognition of its origin, and then flips to the last picture of herself, what Tasha must have been working on before she came in. Colette's eyes fall shut, the sketchbook closes and is nudged aside and when Colette's half-blind eyes open again, they're already focused up on Tasha.

"I…" dark brows lift as Colette tries to find the right words, leaning over to press a hand against Tasha's shoulder and lean her back against the bed, arms wrapping around her in tight embrace, lips pressing to her cheek. "I am so lucky…" she whispers breathlessly, holding her artist close, "so unbelievably lucky to have you."

Her eyes down the entire time Colette flips through the sketchbook, Tasha looks up with surprise at the response. She laughs a little, wrapping her arms around Colette as the girl presses her lips against Tasha's warm-flushed cheeks.

"If they're beautiful, it's only because you are. An artist is only as good as her muse, after all," she says softly. "I just wish I could get your … your light. The pictures don't capture it — I can draw your nose and your mouth and the curve of your neck…" Tasha kisses that curve, smiling. "But I can't get on paper what you really look like to me. I wish I could show you better." She pushes the sketchbook so it falls to the floor.

"I guess I will just have to show you in every other way I know how," she adds, an impish grin pushing away the last of the worries and fears the conversation has dragged her through.

Laughing softly, Colette rests her forehead against Tasha's and lifts a hand to play with her hair behind her ear, cradling the shorter girl close to herself gently. "I love you," Colette affirms, as if it were ever in doubt and largely because she just likes being able to say it so openly and know what sort of affect it has on Tasha, "so… so very much." Lips brush together in a gentle kiss, and Colette's fingers thread errant locks of brown hair behind one of Tasha's ears.

"So…" Colette begins, voice quiet, lips pressing to Tasha's again with a little bit more adamancy than before, a giggle bubbling up breathily as her lips curve up into a smile equally impish as Tasha's. "Show and tell time, then?"

She does need help getting out of those pants, after all.

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