Top level [for Erik]

[somegreaterfolly]

Her dress was stunning, a clingy teal affair she'd been saving for the party. Her hair was perfect, not a strand out of place, even after all she'd just gone through. Her makeup, immaculate, no surprises there. She'd left her glass of cheap champagne far behind her, but beyond that, Tracy could have easily passed for just another New Year's reveler, out enjoying the evening.

This was also setting aside, of course, the fact that she was no longer with the party. She'd left it far behind as well, far below, after abruptly taking her leave (calmly, though, always so calmly; it wasn't nearly as sudden a decision as it had seemed) and ducking into one of the many buildings bordering the square.

She'd taken the stairs. There was no real rush, plenty of time left while the crowds waited for midnight with baited breath, practically an eternity before her absence might be noted. Her shoes lay discarded back at the second landing, and she'd taken the last few floors at a run when she'd heard the sound of a door opening somewhere below her, but the building wasn't overly tall. Aside from a slight hitch in her breath from the dash, she felt fine.

The wind was cold on the ledge, far colder than it felt down with the others, but that was quite alright. She felt all the more awake for it, all the more alive for once.

This wasn't how she would have liked to end it, but the water, her water was no longer an option, and Tracy would never deign to consign herself to the filthy waters of America. No, this would do fine, meeting her end amidst the lights and the cheers and the fresh new beginnings that were continually denied to her. More impersonal, perhaps, and certainly messier, but how much did a woman living on borrowed time deserve, anyway?

Comments

[markedformore]

Coincidence is not something that Erik truly believes in.

Timing is sometimes merely lucky and sometimes unlucky, at that. It was luck that brought Charles to him in the water rather than the permanence of death thanks to his stubborn refusal to let go of Shaw. Now, on a building, he is lucky again. He's up here because he believes if he comes closer to the metal, he will be able to pretend to hear it sing again. He cannot.

What he does find is the wind whipping a dress in the air and someone on the ledge that drew his mood down into the depths of the dark. "What on earth are you doing?" he asks, voice as icy as the wind and a blank expression on his face to mask the rage.

[somegreaterfolly]

Tracy turned sharply at the voice, though her balance never faltered, surprise quickly giving way to a steely resolve. Towards Erik, she felt only annoyance. He would likely try to stop her, and while it would be a simple enough matter to take that one last step before he had the chance, some part of her wanted to wait for the new year, to die in that one last morning that, by all rights, she never should have been allowed to see. One final little indulgence, as it were. His presence, unbidden, unwelcome, could only spoil that.

"Get out of here," she snapped, eyes flashing, and while her voice held firm, she doubted it would do so again.

[markedformore]

He lingers up there as calm as you'd like, though he does step out to be with her. There is no fear. Fear assumes that he would be scared to hurtle down the many stories and the truth is that Erik has not feared death for a very long time.

"I have nowhere better to be," he replies sharply. "Sorry," he adds, with no genuine apology. "Stop being an idiot."

[somegreaterfolly]

"You don't want to be out here," Tracy countered, and true to her suspicions, she had to lower her voice to keep it from wavering. "How, then, am I the simpleton? Don't come any closer."

[markedformore]

"A shame for me that I don't listen well," he replies sharply and reaches out with one hand to grasp hold of her wrist tightly enough that she's likely to see marks if she tries to pull away from him. And now, he lets go of the hold he has on the building. "If you go, so do I. Perhaps suicide, you're willing to do. Murder, though?"

[somegreaterfolly]

Tracy gasped at the contact, but stubbornly stood her ground, eyes narrowing. He wasn't bluffing. "And why not?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper now, but sharp as glass and wasn't it amazing how clearly everything could be heard up there? Even amidst the wind and the distant music rising from the square, every scuff, every word came through in crystal clarity.

"Why shouldn't I be willing? Call it one final thrill as I go." Jaw set, she jerked her arm downward, not enough to jostle but hopefully enough to show him that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't bluffing, either. "That hurts."

[markedformore]

"You're about to kill yourself, what does it matter if it hurts?" he demands, words as sharp as razors that would do a great deal of harm if applied to the vulnerability of human flesh. She wants to hurt, he'll offer a way. "I thought you might be troubled, but so am I. But I've continued on and found a path for my rage. You're being weak."

[somegreaterfolly]

"And what possible business is it of yours?" Tracy demanded in turn, an edge of panic creeping into her voice as she made the mistake of allowing it to rise, just for that moment. Very suddenly, she was somehow more acutely aware of the precariousness of the situation and while she remained unfrightened, it nevertheless encouraged a heightening of emotions that she couldn't allow herself lest she fail herself again.

This wasn't the first time some well-meaning fool had intruded on what were supposed to be her final moments, and that had ended terribly for all involved parties, after all.

"Why should you care what I am?"

[markedformore]

"Because if I am enough to be cared for, then why not you," he counters, his grip on her wrist tightening as he abandons any last morsel of fear and stands well enough apart from the ledge that it will take no more than a strong gust to bring them both down. "Your choice, Tracy. Do we die tonight?"

[somegreaterfolly]

For a few moments, she actually considered it. She could never truly go through with it, of course, take him down with her like that, but she did allow herself to briefly entertain the notion. What would he think, in those last few seconds, those fleeting instants of consciousness once he realized what had happened?

It would serve him right, really.

"If you truly care, then you would let me alone," Tracy said, beginning to waver, the sudden threat of tears leaving her feeling far too vulnerable so close to the edge. Going out in such a state was something she simply could not abide. "This is what I want."

[markedformore]

"Why?" It's a fair question. "Answer me that honestly and with a degree of some sense and I'll let you go. But you have to tell me why and I have to accept the answer. Otherwise, I'm afraid I will continue to be selfish and continue to hold on," he replies with cool calmness.

[somegreaterfolly]

"Because I don't want to live anymore!" Tracy cried out in frustration, and while she finally lost control, the tears beginning to spill, her voice at least regained some of its former bite. "Why should there have to be more to it than that?"

[markedformore]

"Because better people have lived through worse and come out of it on the other side realizing that their lives are more than simply something to be thrown out the window!" he bites sharply at her. He releases her hand, angry now at the notion that it boils down to nothing more than a childish and selfish whim of the moment.

Because of her wants. "That's not a good reason to die. It's a good reason to be upset, to look for new purpose, but hardly to die."

[somegreaterfolly]

"I had a purpose once," Tracy countered dully, tears warm against her cheeks even as she resumed facing the emptiness without. Now, though, the threat of the height and the bite of the wind didn't thrill her, didn't leave her feeling alert and ready. They only chilled. "Somehow, I even found another after losing all faith once before. It would have been better for all if I hadn't. You have no idea what you're talking about."

[markedformore]

"Then you don't know me at all," Erik says as he stands safely out of harm's reach with two feet firmly on the ground. "I lost everything, more than once. I am better versed in loss than you will ever know in your short life, which will be even shorter if you'd just get on with it," he snaps at her. "Or come off the ledge already."

[somegreaterfolly]

It wasn't difficult for Tracy to believe the truth of that, at least that of his own loss. That didn't mean he could possibly understand. It meant nothing, much like the rest of it. Some had a successful go of things, many didn't. Some overcame, many didn't. There was never any point to it all, not really.

And yet, for some reason, she knew now that she wouldn't jump. Not yet, anyway. It wouldn't prove a thing to him, after all, and whether she liked it or not, Erik was involved now.

"Do you honestly believe that there's a reason for me not to do it out there somewhere? No platitudes, tell me truly," she said evenly, risking a glance over at him.

[markedformore]

"I'm still here, aren't I? I found something to push me through each day and while there are certainly times when I am greatly disappointed in my decision, I never go so far as to think about killing myself," he says sharply. "Not until I've made something of my life and my actions. Do you think yours so worthless?"

[somegreaterfolly]

"I do," Tracy replied simply, that deceptively even tone returning only to be betrayed by the tears that continued to spill. She swayed lightly for a moment, though there was no real intent to the motion. Should gravity decide to take her now, then it would simply be because it truly was meant to happen. "Though perhaps I'm not quite as sure of it as I was."