She doesn't cry. She never cries. Crying is weakness, and weakness gets you hurt.

But something in her chest cracks open anyway, and she presses her face harder against Cara's shoulder, breathing ragged.

She doesn't say anything. Can't. Just holds on.

That's okay. She doesn't have to say anything. Cara will hold her close, pet the back of her head.

 "It's okay," she whispers softly.  "It's okay."

She stays there for a long time. Minutes, maybe. She loses track.

Eventually her breathing evens out. The shaking stops. She doesn't pull away, but she loosens her grip slightly, no longer clinging like Cara might disappear if she lets go.

"Sorry," she mumbles into Cara's shoulder. The word comes out automatic, reflexive. And in her head: Thank you.

She's not sure which one she means more.

"It's okay." her voice is soft, gentle. "...I really mean it, you know." She rubs her cheek against Vera's hair.

She doesn't know what to say to that. Doesn't know how to believe it.

But she lifts her head from Cara's shoulder. Looks at her, really looks, for the first time since this all started.

There's something in her chest that she doesn't have a name for. Something that hurts but not in a bad way.

"Okay," she says. Just that. Just okay.

She doesn't pull away.

Cara stares back into those golden eyes, smiling gently. They're gorgeous. 

(There's a knot in her stomach. She ignores it. She's good at that.)

She holds the eye contact for a moment longer than she means to. Something about Cara's smile makes it hard to look away.

Then it's too much, and she drops her gaze.

"Your hair's a mess," she says. It comes out softer than she intended. Her hand moves before she can think about it, tucking a strand behind Cara's ear.

She freezes when she realizes what she's doing. Pulls her hand back like she's been burned.

"We should-" She clears her throat. It feels like she's choking on a mouth full of balled-up cotton fabric, like there's blood running down the back of her sinuses. Her heartrate shoots up and she, she has to,

She smiles at the hair comment, then notices Vera's sudden distress.

Oh no... "Hey, it's okay, it's okay," calm breathing, calm,

She can't breathe. Can't think.

She's going to leave.
1. She's going to stay.
2. She's going to hate you.
3. She's going to forgive you.
4. You're going to hurt her again.
5. You're going
6. You're going to
7. You're going to make it worse.

She grabs Cara's hand. Presses it against her chest, over her racing heart.

"Just-" Her voice cracks. "Don't - don't go anywhere." Please.

The please won't come out, it's like coughing up a saltine.

"Please."

It sounds broken. She's never said it like that before.

aaaa? "It's okay, I'm here, I'm here  I'm not going anywhere, it's okay,"

She presses her forehead against Vera, trying not to display her worries. Deep, careful breaths. 

The contact helps. Cara's forehead against hers, the steady rhythm of her breathing. Something to anchor to.

She focuses on it. In. Out. In. Out.

"Sorry," she whispers. Her eyes are closed. "I don't- I can't-"

She doesn't finish. Just breathes.

After a while - a minute, maybe two - her heartbeat starts to slow. The choking feeling in her throat eases. She's still shaking, but it's less violent now. More like trembling.

"This keeps happening." Her voice is barely audible. "When things are good. When I let myself-"

She can't say want things. Can't say feel safe. The words stick.

"It's okay. I'm here. It's okay." Gentle petting. "Always? Since you were young?" 

There's some gentle concern in her voice, but no stress. She's calm. It's okay. It's safe.

She shakes her head. Tiny movement.

"Since awakening. Before that I just-" She swallows. "I had other ways of ruining things."

A pause. The trembling is subsiding, the warmth of Cara's hand seeping through her shirt.

"It's worse now. I can see every way it goes wrong. All at once. And then I can't- I freeze, or I-"

Or I make it happen. Pick the worst one just to make it stop.

She doesn't say that part out loud. But she thinks Cara already knows.

Okay. Internal sigh of relief. "Oh... Backlash that makes it hard to get guiding is really miserable." her voice oft soft and sympathetic. "I've read about someone who gets really distressed about being perceived, she has a horrible time letting anyone close... I can't imagine handling something like that." 

"I think - just keep trying not to let it trap you into doing something bad? You've been doing a good job so far, since we started snuggling like this." She shifts, pressing her cheek into Vera's, petting her hair with the hand not on her heart. 

She leans into the touch. Lets herself have it, just for a moment.

"I almost-" She stops. Swallows. "Earlier. When you asked about my backlash. I almost-"

She doesn't finish. Can't say it.

"I didn't, though." It comes out small. Like she's trying to convince herself as much as Cara. "I didn't."

"This is helping." The words come out rough, reluctant. It costs her something. "You're helping."

...it's hard not to be a bit scared (...and curious), when she says stuff like that. 

Cara doesn't let it show. "I'm glad you didn't. And I'm really glad this is helping." Soft, regular hairpets. 

They stay like that for a while. She doesn't know how long. The hairpets are doing something to her brain, making it hard to hold onto the jagged edges of her thoughts.

"I should-" She stops. Tries again. "We should probably. Do the thing."

But she doesn't move. Doesn't pull away. The words come out like an obligation, something she knows she's supposed to say, not something she actually wants to do.

"In a minute."

She closes her eyes.

She stays there, letting Cara pet her hair. It feels strange - being taken care of instead of doing the taking. Being held instead of holding.

Her breathing has evened out. The spiral has quieted, narrowed down to just this room, this bed, this person pressed against her.

"I don't know what to do with this," she admits after a while. Her voice is steadier now, but still raw. "With you being... like this. When I've been..."

She trails off. Doesn't have the words for what she's been.

"I keep waiting for you to realize you should hate me."

..Augh. "Vera... your backlash scares me, but... without it, I barely know you, and it sounds like you don't either, not really. I definitely don't hate you! I can tell that this is really hard for you, and I want to help, if I can." 

She sighs, and then continues in a lighter tone: "and also it's my hell week and my backlash is really scary, so the guiding is in fact really nice for me. I think this can be good for both of us." 

she gently caresses Vera's hair, eyes wandering about her face. (Too much eye contact seems to make Vera uncomfortable? She's trying not to be obvious about avoiding it, which is something she has practice with.)

She lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"You're really bad at self-preservation," she says. But there's no bite to it. Almost fond, maybe.

She opens her eyes, but doesn't look directly at Cara. Settles for watching her jaw, the curve of her neck.

"What's your backlash like? The scary part." Her voice is quiet. "You said you'd be miserable in a hospital. With it."

Easier to ask about Cara's problems than think about her own. She's been so focused on keeping Cara contained and functional that she never really asked.

Cara nods cheerfully at the self-preservation comment. She knows it's a growth area for her.

Then she rests her head against Vera and lets out a long breath. "It's - when I have enough backlash, I'm what you call 'null', I can't do anything proactively, but... it's not like being asleep. There's enough of me to form experiences, I just don't get any say in what those experiences are, and even if someone asks, I can't tell them - don't know myself - what I want or need, or if something's hurting me." Her breath catches. "A week like that in a hospital... well, I'd be a model patient, and they'd have an easy enough job keeping me alive, b-but at the end of it I'd be pretty fucked up." (it's also just straightforwardly scary to be at the whim of anyone who knows they can just tell her what to do, but that part seems... obvious?)

She's clinging, now, her heart beating a bit faster. 

She feels Cara's heartbeat speed up against her chest. Feels her cling tighter.

Oh.

She'd known, in an abstract way, what Cara's backlash did. Had used it, yesterday, to make her compliant. Hadn't thought about what it meant from the inside.

"That's-" She stops. Swallows.

She'd ordered Cara around for hours. And Cara had just... done it. Because she couldn't do anything else.

"I didn't-" The words stick. "I should have-"

She pulls Cara closer. Not commanding this time. Just holding.

I'm sorry, she doesn't say.

"'sok," she whispers, even though it's not, exactly, and "you didn't know," which is true and also maybe even relevant,

 and then it's Cara's turn to be the one raggedly breathing (and maybe also crying) as she holds Vera tight.

She holds Cara while she cries. Doesn't know what to do with her hands at first, but settles for rubbing slow circles on her back, the way Cara had done for her.

She doesn't say anything. What is there to say?

She presses her face against Cara's hair and just... stays there.

"I didn't know," she says finally, voice rough. "That. I needed to ask. I should have asked. I should have-"

She stops. Takes a breath.

"I'll do better." It comes out like a promise. Like something she's not sure she can keep but wants to anyway. "I'll try."