[Vi doesn't comprehend it, at first. what files? Stillwater? it's almost as if it was a lifetime ago.
and then her stomach twists, and she remembers. being beaten and screaming Powder's name. being assumed she's on drugs because of the mentions of her. she'd never corrected them, because none of it was their fucking business.
that cell, that was so devoid of fresh air and light that she felt like she was going insane. being interrogated, laughing at them while they interrogated her, because she was so desperate for them to know that they didn't scare her. they did, but it wasn't stronger than her need to get back to Powder. all the abuse and neglect for seven years...
she only vaguely comes back to the present, but she hasn't noticed that she's stopped holding Caitlyn. that she's walking away from her, and picking up the files. that she's scrambling through the house looking for a lighter--
they've got to go. she doesn't know that her face is pale and her eyes wild in her desperation to get them out of their home. no. no. they can't exist. not here. not where Caitlyn can see them and read them until she drives herself insane too--]
[It's a bit startling, when Vi is pulling out of her embrace and scrambling away with the files in hand.]
Vi--? What are you--
[Caitlyn's on her feet in seconds, trailing after Vi, voice full of concern. Her own sorrow over the files is long out of mind, her priority shifting to Vi and only Vi.
It takes a minute of chasing after her that she manages to get a hold of her, putting both of her hands on Vi's shoulders and trying to stop her from moving long enough to keep her attention.]
Vi, look at me. Come back to me. Let me help.
[She has a feeling Vi wants the files gone, and she's fine with that, she just doesn't want Vi to do something rash and hurt herself in the process.]
[Vi's eyes are wide as Caitlyn takes her shoulders in her hands, eyes stinging as her hands start to shake. she looks at this person she loves so much, those blue eyes that have grounded her through many issues, here and at home.
and then they blur, because she doesn't deserve Caitlyn. in moments like these, she feels like she doesn't deserve her at all.]
You weren't... supposed to know. I don't want anyone to know--
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no subject
and then her stomach twists, and she remembers. being beaten and screaming Powder's name. being assumed she's on drugs because of the mentions of her. she'd never corrected them, because none of it was their fucking business.
that cell, that was so devoid of fresh air and light that she felt like she was going insane. being interrogated, laughing at them while they interrogated her, because she was so desperate for them to know that they didn't scare her. they did, but it wasn't stronger than her need to get back to Powder. all the abuse and neglect for seven years...
she only vaguely comes back to the present, but she hasn't noticed that she's stopped holding Caitlyn. that she's walking away from her, and picking up the files. that she's scrambling through the house looking for a lighter--
they've got to go. she doesn't know that her face is pale and her eyes wild in her desperation to get them out of their home. no. no. they can't exist. not here. not where Caitlyn can see them and read them until she drives herself insane too--]
no subject
Vi--? What are you--
[Caitlyn's on her feet in seconds, trailing after Vi, voice full of concern. Her own sorrow over the files is long out of mind, her priority shifting to Vi and only Vi.
It takes a minute of chasing after her that she manages to get a hold of her, putting both of her hands on Vi's shoulders and trying to stop her from moving long enough to keep her attention.]
Vi, look at me. Come back to me. Let me help.
[She has a feeling Vi wants the files gone, and she's fine with that, she just doesn't want Vi to do something rash and hurt herself in the process.]
no subject
and then they blur, because she doesn't deserve Caitlyn. in moments like these, she feels like she doesn't deserve her at all.]
You weren't... supposed to know. I don't want anyone to know--
[she didn't even want to think about it anymore.]