Re: So Strange I Remember You
Posted: Sat Nov 27, 2010 3:39 pm
He wanted to help her. Sure, of course. She'd bolted and ran instinctively instead of listening to him back at that tower, lost sight of Julian, ran into DK, and killed him, all because JJ wanted to help her. Now, not only was Claire a murderer no better than Kris or Reiko, but she'd had a chance to prevent herself from committing the act, too. One that in her anxiety and fear she'd passed up. For someone who considered herself grounded and intelligent, she sure had proven otherwise.
Despite the fact that she desperately wanted to maintain control of the situation (which she'd naively believed holding a gun would give her, but had clearly been proven wrong yet again), the ceaseless stream of tears betrayed her front. Claire didn't even have control over herself anymore, let alone JJ. If she had, she'd probably have saved herself from the eternal damnation she was now guaranteed to suffer.
Her self-admonition was drowned out by JJ's explanation, including his cheesy (but clearly unrehearsed) line about wanting to make a better second impression than his first. Claire had to contend, though, that he'd accomplished his goal. Saving her life sure beat stumbling around drunk in her place of employment any day.
Still, with all the words JJ spoke, the guilt just sank in deeper. He wanted to make things right. He owed her. For what? What had she ever done to put him in her debt? Verbally castrated him? Made him feel two inches tall? Dragged him into a situation where she'd almost gotten him killed? The fact of the matter was, alcohol problem aside, Claire felt as though she was the one who had something she needed to repay. JJ could have let her die right there and then, and despite her previous misgivings, he'd gone ahead and saved her life anyway.
Why did he have to be so much different than she thought before? Why couldn't he have just stayed that selfish, immature, despicable asshole who was so easy to loathe?
"Because that would be too easy."
Still, she wasn't quite ready to spill the contents of her heart to the man just yet. They'd never even had one polite conversation.
"That's not something I can forgive myself for..." JJ continued, and when she saw an opportunity to break into the conversation, she swallowed the suffocating liquid in her throat and hoarsely whispered out a response.
"...You don't get to decide whether or not you're forgiven."
Smooth, Claire. Really grateful of you. The guy saves your ass and you still treat him like shit. She knew she had to remedy the situation somehow. Make everything up to JJ. How she'd gone from loathing him to pitying him to ultimately feeling indebted to him in the past hour had eluded her, but were she of more sound mind, she'd probably recognize that having just murdered somebody when only days before you were planning your graduation didn't make you the most emotionally stable individual.
"...You can start by grabbing my bag," she whispered unenthusiastically, realizing that she was still playing up the tormented bitch inside herself. At this point, she didn't have the heart to open up to him. DK's blood burned fresh against the sunlit earth. She didn't want to stay here any longer than she had to.
"It's in the shed. My gun's there too," she finished mechanically. She wasn't even capable of feeling threatened by the possibility of giving JJ a weapon. At this point, if he shot her in the back of the head, she'd probably deserve it.
Needing a distraction, Claire made her way over to DK's day pack, dragging it a few feet away from his corpse.
Murderer.
Vulture.
Not exactly the way she wanted to be remembered.
Despite the fact that she desperately wanted to maintain control of the situation (which she'd naively believed holding a gun would give her, but had clearly been proven wrong yet again), the ceaseless stream of tears betrayed her front. Claire didn't even have control over herself anymore, let alone JJ. If she had, she'd probably have saved herself from the eternal damnation she was now guaranteed to suffer.
Her self-admonition was drowned out by JJ's explanation, including his cheesy (but clearly unrehearsed) line about wanting to make a better second impression than his first. Claire had to contend, though, that he'd accomplished his goal. Saving her life sure beat stumbling around drunk in her place of employment any day.
Still, with all the words JJ spoke, the guilt just sank in deeper. He wanted to make things right. He owed her. For what? What had she ever done to put him in her debt? Verbally castrated him? Made him feel two inches tall? Dragged him into a situation where she'd almost gotten him killed? The fact of the matter was, alcohol problem aside, Claire felt as though she was the one who had something she needed to repay. JJ could have let her die right there and then, and despite her previous misgivings, he'd gone ahead and saved her life anyway.
Why did he have to be so much different than she thought before? Why couldn't he have just stayed that selfish, immature, despicable asshole who was so easy to loathe?
"Because that would be too easy."
Still, she wasn't quite ready to spill the contents of her heart to the man just yet. They'd never even had one polite conversation.
"That's not something I can forgive myself for..." JJ continued, and when she saw an opportunity to break into the conversation, she swallowed the suffocating liquid in her throat and hoarsely whispered out a response.
"...You don't get to decide whether or not you're forgiven."
Smooth, Claire. Really grateful of you. The guy saves your ass and you still treat him like shit. She knew she had to remedy the situation somehow. Make everything up to JJ. How she'd gone from loathing him to pitying him to ultimately feeling indebted to him in the past hour had eluded her, but were she of more sound mind, she'd probably recognize that having just murdered somebody when only days before you were planning your graduation didn't make you the most emotionally stable individual.
"...You can start by grabbing my bag," she whispered unenthusiastically, realizing that she was still playing up the tormented bitch inside herself. At this point, she didn't have the heart to open up to him. DK's blood burned fresh against the sunlit earth. She didn't want to stay here any longer than she had to.
"It's in the shed. My gun's there too," she finished mechanically. She wasn't even capable of feeling threatened by the possibility of giving JJ a weapon. At this point, if he shot her in the back of the head, she'd probably deserve it.
Needing a distraction, Claire made her way over to DK's day pack, dragging it a few feet away from his corpse.
Murderer.
Vulture.
Not exactly the way she wanted to be remembered.