“Look, its not anything…personal,” Betsy stopped herself. Sounded like she was breaking up with the girl.
“Staystaystaystay,” Violet was muttering under her breath now. Betsy couldn’t think of anyway to console the girl, she just took another step back. Violet followed again.
“Dogs stay. Dogs stay when I tell them stay. You stay.” Betsy moved back again. Violet followed, keeping the same distance between them, but she was getting more and more worked up.
“You don’t stay, you bad. Dogs stay, dogs good. Set good dogs on bad lady, they chew your bones.” Violet barked and bared her teeth again, her shoulders hunched like she was ready to launch herself at Betsy’s throat. Betsy closed her eyes again. She just couldn’t handle this right now. She felt bad about the Fiend’s tears, even as the woman threatened to kill her. Betsy wondered if Violet would just feed her body to the dogs, or cannibalize her. There was suddenly a light pressure above the bloom of pain in her ribs. Opening her eyes once more, Betsy saw that Violet was gently touching her side above what was surely at least one broken rib, and silently sobbing. Poor girl was probably too strung out to know what was actually happening, to understand why Betsy had to leave. why her bared teeth weren’t helping, why Betsy did not act the same as her dogs. She doubted that Violet even remembered last night. If she did, there was no way she understood why Betsy had reacted the way she did. Violet couldn’t understand she was the bad guy right now.
Betsy lightly grabbed the other woman’s shoulders. Violet looked away.
“Sorrysorrysorry.” Did Violet even know why she was apologizing? Poor junkie bitch. Poor lost girl. Covered in blood and running with dogs.
Betsy held the other woman for a few moments, as much supporting herself against the spinning wasteland, as she was comforting the Fiend. But she couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t help Violet. She pulled away and again took a step back. Violet didn’t follow this time, and kept a tight grip on her dog’s leash. Betsy took another step. No response. Another. No response. Slowly, Betsy turned and walked a few feet. She heard Violet move behind her. Turning, the junkie had closed the gap between them again, but was standing still and watching Betsy. Betsy regarded her for a second, before turning and striding forward again. She could hear Violet following, but at a distance.
It was agonizing making her way back to Camp McCarran under the heat of what was now midday, and her wounds from before. Violet followed her the whole time. She found herself wondering what would happen if she fell. Would Violet then kill her, letting loose the single hound? Or would she help her up and return to trailing behind her? Finally, Betsy could make out the flag of the NCR, and then the high walls of the fort. As she got closer, she realized she could no longer hear Violet’s footsteps behind her. Turning, she could see the Fiend a way off, much farther than the distance she had previously been following at. She wouldn’t come any closer to the camp and enemy guns. She stayed where she was and watched Betsy’s slow progress over the rest of the distance to the camp.
As Betsy finally touched the gate to Camp McCarran, she paused. She wondered if Violet was still watching her progress. She didn’t look back to check.
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timeasmymeasure
Stay (5/5)
Date: 2012-06-27 03:45 pm (UTC)“Staystaystaystay,” Violet was muttering under her breath now. Betsy couldn’t think of anyway to console the girl, she just took another step back. Violet followed again.
“Dogs stay. Dogs stay when I tell them stay. You stay.” Betsy moved back again. Violet followed, keeping the same distance between them, but she was getting more and more worked up.
“You don’t stay, you bad. Dogs stay, dogs good. Set good dogs on bad lady, they chew your bones.” Violet barked and bared her teeth again, her shoulders hunched like she was ready to launch herself at Betsy’s throat. Betsy closed her eyes again. She just couldn’t handle this right now. She felt bad about the Fiend’s tears, even as the woman threatened to kill her. Betsy wondered if Violet would just feed her body to the dogs, or cannibalize her. There was suddenly a light pressure above the bloom of pain in her ribs. Opening her eyes once more, Betsy saw that Violet was gently touching her side above what was surely at least one broken rib, and silently sobbing. Poor girl was probably too strung out to know what was actually happening, to understand why Betsy had to leave. why her bared teeth weren’t helping, why Betsy did not act the same as her dogs. She doubted that Violet even remembered last night. If she did, there was no way she understood why Betsy had reacted the way she did. Violet couldn’t understand she was the bad guy right now.
Betsy lightly grabbed the other woman’s shoulders. Violet looked away.
“Sorrysorrysorry.” Did Violet even know why she was apologizing? Poor junkie bitch. Poor lost girl. Covered in blood and running with dogs.
Betsy held the other woman for a few moments, as much supporting herself against the spinning wasteland, as she was comforting the Fiend. But she couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t help Violet. She pulled away and again took a step back. Violet didn’t follow this time, and kept a tight grip on her dog’s leash. Betsy took another step. No response. Another. No response. Slowly, Betsy turned and walked a few feet. She heard Violet move behind her. Turning, the junkie had closed the gap between them again, but was standing still and watching Betsy. Betsy regarded her for a second, before turning and striding forward again. She could hear Violet following, but at a distance.
It was agonizing making her way back to Camp McCarran under the heat of what was now midday, and her wounds from before. Violet followed her the whole time. She found herself wondering what would happen if she fell. Would Violet then kill her, letting loose the single hound? Or would she help her up and return to trailing behind her? Finally, Betsy could make out the flag of the NCR, and then the high walls of the fort. As she got closer, she realized she could no longer hear Violet’s footsteps behind her. Turning, she could see the Fiend a way off, much farther than the distance she had previously been following at. She wouldn’t come any closer to the camp and enemy guns. She stayed where she was and watched Betsy’s slow progress over the rest of the distance to the camp.
As Betsy finally touched the gate to Camp McCarran, she paused. She wondered if Violet was still watching her progress. She didn’t look back to check.