Day 22: Kanan Reboot
Feb. 22nd, 2012 09:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
obsolete_theoryI've been tinkering with this one some more, so enjoy the fruits of my efforts! (And now for a little of the auld copy/past!)
Rated R overall, I guess. A little language, the usual sorts of trauma that go with the whole Hakkai-and-Kanan backstory, a bit of gore. I haven't even spell-checked this. *fail!*
=====
It took a few weeks before Kanan came to his bed to sleep, whether he was in it or not. She seemed to have less nightmares than before, which was good. Kanan didn't crawl to the edge of the bed any more, either, which was also good. He would've said it was great, but there was the whole awkward-in-the-morning thing which neither of them really seemed to get past, and he wasn't sure if it was because he—or she—wanted—or didn't want—something to happen between them.
Because Gojyo knew the shape and feel of her body now, and he was sure Kanan knew the same of him. He knew how she smelled, how warm she was beneath the covers. She had soft little freckles that dotted her shoulders, drawing lines and patterns across her skin that he couldn't quite make out.
He knew her well in sleep, but when she was awake, it was like she was a different person. She was shy and gentle, and he was walking on eggshells, sometimes, because he didn't want to scare her away.
One night, when the rain drummed hard on the roof and Kanan shivered under the covers, Gojyo asked her.
"What's wrong?" he said. "I think you can trust me not to tell anyone."
She rolled over and faced him.
"I killed three people," she said. "And I tried for a fourth, but you stopped me."
The wind kicked up and raindrops battered the windows. Kanan cringed.
"I don't think I've really—gotten over it, not yet," she said. "And the rain makes it worse."
Gojyo's scalp prickled. He'd stopped her? She'd never done anything…
"You see," Kanan said. "What I did wasn't nearly so bad as what my brother had done. He killed a thousand youkai trying to save me. But he couldn't save himself."
"He must have loved you a lot," said Gojyo.
It was the only thing he could think to say. Kanan smiled. Her eyes were shining wet.
"I killed him," she said. "He would have died slowly, even though by then he'd turned into a youkai himself. All that strength wouldn't—couldn't—have saved him by then. So I did."
She'd killed her brother? Gojyo tried, he really tried, to imagine himself in her shoes, but he couldn't.
"He was in terrible pain," she said.
Kanan took a deep, shuddering breath, and Gojyo could tell how strong the memory was. The scars on his face ached in sympathy.
She ticked her crimes off on her fingers.
"I killed the man who would have killed him," she said. "And I killed a baby. His baby."
She smiled, sad.
"And I nearly died myself for the trouble," she said. "The monks tell me I may never have another."
Gojyo thought he'd misheard. She'd scrambled her own insides with a knife? And his hands remembered packing her intestines back in, kneeling in the mud in the middle of the road. He thought to himself that there were easier, less painful ways to have an abortion, if she wanted. But he didn't dare say it out loud.
They lay, quiet, in Gojyo's bed. The minutes crawled by with nothing but the falling rain to occupy them. After a time, Kanan rolled onto her stomach. Gojyo stayed where he was on the off chance that he'd spook her by moving.
"Is it true?" she said. "Are half-breeds incapable of having children?"
Gojyo shrugged.
"Hell if I know," he said.
He thought of all the times he'd never used a condom. And no one had ever come beating his door down, so he guessed maybe he was just lucky.
"I wish you hadn't saved me," she said.
If it had been some other lifetime, he could have fallen in love with her. As it was, here she was, crying on his shoulder, so to speak, and he couldn't make a move.
"I loved him so much," said Kanan. "Gonou was the kindest, gentlest person…we were lovers."
Gojyo was reminded of another time, another woman who cried and cried and talked of love and looked at his brother like she'd apparently been looking at hers. For the first time, Kanan made him nervous.
At last, she pulled herself together. She looked at him and winced.
"I've hurt you," she said. "I know I have."
"I'll get over it," he said. "It's nothing."
He could tell she thought it wasn't nothing. And it wasn't nothing, but he'd make it into nothing, somehow.
He turned off the light and listened to her breathing and the rain until he fell asleep.
=====
I am super excited to get to the Kanan verison of the Burial stuff. ^__^ I thumbed through my copies of reload today in anticipation of the umbrella-riffic action. XD
~later
Rated R overall, I guess. A little language, the usual sorts of trauma that go with the whole Hakkai-and-Kanan backstory, a bit of gore. I haven't even spell-checked this. *fail!*
=====
It took a few weeks before Kanan came to his bed to sleep, whether he was in it or not. She seemed to have less nightmares than before, which was good. Kanan didn't crawl to the edge of the bed any more, either, which was also good. He would've said it was great, but there was the whole awkward-in-the-morning thing which neither of them really seemed to get past, and he wasn't sure if it was because he—or she—wanted—or didn't want—something to happen between them.
Because Gojyo knew the shape and feel of her body now, and he was sure Kanan knew the same of him. He knew how she smelled, how warm she was beneath the covers. She had soft little freckles that dotted her shoulders, drawing lines and patterns across her skin that he couldn't quite make out.
He knew her well in sleep, but when she was awake, it was like she was a different person. She was shy and gentle, and he was walking on eggshells, sometimes, because he didn't want to scare her away.
One night, when the rain drummed hard on the roof and Kanan shivered under the covers, Gojyo asked her.
"What's wrong?" he said. "I think you can trust me not to tell anyone."
She rolled over and faced him.
"I killed three people," she said. "And I tried for a fourth, but you stopped me."
The wind kicked up and raindrops battered the windows. Kanan cringed.
"I don't think I've really—gotten over it, not yet," she said. "And the rain makes it worse."
Gojyo's scalp prickled. He'd stopped her? She'd never done anything…
"You see," Kanan said. "What I did wasn't nearly so bad as what my brother had done. He killed a thousand youkai trying to save me. But he couldn't save himself."
"He must have loved you a lot," said Gojyo.
It was the only thing he could think to say. Kanan smiled. Her eyes were shining wet.
"I killed him," she said. "He would have died slowly, even though by then he'd turned into a youkai himself. All that strength wouldn't—couldn't—have saved him by then. So I did."
She'd killed her brother? Gojyo tried, he really tried, to imagine himself in her shoes, but he couldn't.
"He was in terrible pain," she said.
Kanan took a deep, shuddering breath, and Gojyo could tell how strong the memory was. The scars on his face ached in sympathy.
She ticked her crimes off on her fingers.
"I killed the man who would have killed him," she said. "And I killed a baby. His baby."
She smiled, sad.
"And I nearly died myself for the trouble," she said. "The monks tell me I may never have another."
Gojyo thought he'd misheard. She'd scrambled her own insides with a knife? And his hands remembered packing her intestines back in, kneeling in the mud in the middle of the road. He thought to himself that there were easier, less painful ways to have an abortion, if she wanted. But he didn't dare say it out loud.
They lay, quiet, in Gojyo's bed. The minutes crawled by with nothing but the falling rain to occupy them. After a time, Kanan rolled onto her stomach. Gojyo stayed where he was on the off chance that he'd spook her by moving.
"Is it true?" she said. "Are half-breeds incapable of having children?"
Gojyo shrugged.
"Hell if I know," he said.
He thought of all the times he'd never used a condom. And no one had ever come beating his door down, so he guessed maybe he was just lucky.
"I wish you hadn't saved me," she said.
If it had been some other lifetime, he could have fallen in love with her. As it was, here she was, crying on his shoulder, so to speak, and he couldn't make a move.
"I loved him so much," said Kanan. "Gonou was the kindest, gentlest person…we were lovers."
Gojyo was reminded of another time, another woman who cried and cried and talked of love and looked at his brother like she'd apparently been looking at hers. For the first time, Kanan made him nervous.
At last, she pulled herself together. She looked at him and winced.
"I've hurt you," she said. "I know I have."
"I'll get over it," he said. "It's nothing."
He could tell she thought it wasn't nothing. And it wasn't nothing, but he'd make it into nothing, somehow.
He turned off the light and listened to her breathing and the rain until he fell asleep.
=====
I am super excited to get to the Kanan verison of the Burial stuff. ^__^ I thumbed through my copies of reload today in anticipation of the umbrella-riffic action. XD
~later
