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week 12 | friday evening
[ rhys doesn't really remember how long he's been out here and he... honestly doesn't really care, a feeling he's come to associate with being dead. the listlessness, the apathy, the complete indifference of who arrives and who doesn't. elizabeth's arrival was a shake up to his routine and while he wasn't sure if he was grateful for it or not, it meant that he was able to knock himself out of the mindset he fell into -- the obsessive watching to even see just a scrap of knowledge that he mattered, the crushing loneliness when he realized he didn't, the pitiful need for any sort of explanation that he just... did not get.
he understands why jack killed him, he understands that it wasn't sustainable. that was a mistake rhys was making eyes wide open, he gets that.
... but fiona? he had done so much for her and her for him -- they'd been through so much together! he thought that they were friends, if nothing else, and that she would protect him as much as possible and he in return. he... thought that was the understanding they shared with each other, that no matter how rough things became -- they had each other's backs, even if they were wrong. that was their bond, that was what kept them at each other's side even when heading in such clearly opposite directions. he wonders what changed here, on the pygmalion.
it was hearing that she didn't care that much for him in the end, from some -- some stranger. some woman who didn't know the two of them from anywhere, that for some reason fiona trusted to confide in her more than rhys, that he was just swept under the rug so surely without any second thought? he was sitting next to elizabeth, watching that trial and hearing those words come out of that woman's mouth -- he couldn't do it anymore. he couldn't put himself through this.
he'd... lost everything.
what was the point?
so, he excused himself and left. he walked and walked and kept walking and the thing about being dead is, you don't really need to stop for anything. hunger? sleep? rest? anything like that -- it's unnecessary. it's not something that he needs to prioritize and rhys felt so lost now that he'd truly been abandoned by everyone now that he just... didn't bother prioritizing anymore.
after a while, he found a stream and instead of continuing to walk, he sat. he leaned against a tree, knees pulled to his chest and eyes fixed on the stream running across the ground in front of him and he just stayed like that.
a few days passed, and he continued to stay just like that. sometimes he thought about moving, going back to see elizabeth, going to see who died this week, going to see what happened next but --
... but what was the point? ]
he understands why jack killed him, he understands that it wasn't sustainable. that was a mistake rhys was making eyes wide open, he gets that.
... but fiona? he had done so much for her and her for him -- they'd been through so much together! he thought that they were friends, if nothing else, and that she would protect him as much as possible and he in return. he... thought that was the understanding they shared with each other, that no matter how rough things became -- they had each other's backs, even if they were wrong. that was their bond, that was what kept them at each other's side even when heading in such clearly opposite directions. he wonders what changed here, on the pygmalion.
it was hearing that she didn't care that much for him in the end, from some -- some stranger. some woman who didn't know the two of them from anywhere, that for some reason fiona trusted to confide in her more than rhys, that he was just swept under the rug so surely without any second thought? he was sitting next to elizabeth, watching that trial and hearing those words come out of that woman's mouth -- he couldn't do it anymore. he couldn't put himself through this.
he'd... lost everything.
what was the point?
so, he excused himself and left. he walked and walked and kept walking and the thing about being dead is, you don't really need to stop for anything. hunger? sleep? rest? anything like that -- it's unnecessary. it's not something that he needs to prioritize and rhys felt so lost now that he'd truly been abandoned by everyone now that he just... didn't bother prioritizing anymore.
after a while, he found a stream and instead of continuing to walk, he sat. he leaned against a tree, knees pulled to his chest and eyes fixed on the stream running across the ground in front of him and he just stayed like that.
a few days passed, and he continued to stay just like that. sometimes he thought about moving, going back to see elizabeth, going to see who died this week, going to see what happened next but --
... but what was the point? ]
no subject
...No, I didn't, Rhys.
[ There's no nickname this time, because even Jack is aware of the gravity of what he's admitting here. Perhaps if he hadn't watched those videos, his response here would be harsher, maybe even proud, but... That feeling had quickly faded with each one he watched. He still felt stupid about that, too. Watching someone's friggin' diaries shouldn't do that. It should be filled with juicy secrets and hilarious bullshit that he could totally fuck with Rhys about, not... What he found. He had gone searching for answers as to why Rhys chose to betray him, but he'd ended up with much more than he bargained for.
Jack sighs and looks to the side, and he almost seems uncomfortable here. This conversation is a difficult one for him to navigate, since he wants to say the right thing here. It's not quite the right thing in the sense that it would soothe Rhys's worries, but he just wants to explain whatever had come from taking the time to dig through those videos. ]
Look— I shot you because... I lost my temper. Wish I could say it was more than that. But, uh. Wasn't.
[ He makes an discontent noise, then looks back to Rhys, but his jaw is set rather tightly in how uncomfortable he is about trying to put this into words. ]
It was still-- I mean, no, I won't repeat myself here. I said my thoughts on it. But, kiddo, I didn't get where it was coming from in the first place then. [ He shrugs ] Now... Now, I guess I kinda do.
[ "Kind of," but he's also trying to underplay it here out of his own ego and his own difficulty in expressing what he feels. It's one thing to know he relates to someone more deeply than he had ever expected, but it's completely another for him to actually express that. At least, so far as Jack is concerned. He's hardly so fully trusting of Rhys to open up like that again so easily. So instead of that explanation behind it that prompts the words, they might seem almost abrupt for Jack, since none of the thoughts behind it will be very clear to Rhys. ]
So— So, look. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, alright? I fucked up and lost my temper, and this- [ He motions between them ] Yeah, this is what we've got to show for it.