ic contact; MoM

[coppelganger]

Hey, it's Sarah. Leave a message.

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[coppelganger]

Yeah, I guess.

[ So there goes Sarissa making speeches again. It's okay, though. Better than not talking at all. ]

[magnitudes]

( She kisses Sarah's hair again, is quiet for a minute or so. )

Am I being too much again?

[coppelganger]

No. I'm just thinking.

[magnitudes]

Okay.

( Calm, not doubting or anxious. She carefully leans to bring the spring rolls into her lap, though, offering the bag to Sarah. )

I'm gonna crunch on these as quietly as I can, promise. ( With a quietly amused note to her voice. )

[coppelganger]

[ Sarah smiles indulgently, still quiet, and eats a spring roll. She sits that way for a minute before finally saying, ]

You know this guy at home was gonna torture me? Kill me, but not 'til after I wished I was dead. [ She moves Sarissa's fingers to a spot behind one ear, a line of scar tissue covered mostly by hair that wouldn't be noticeable if you didn't know it was there. ]

[magnitudes]

( Sarissa is quiet for a moment, gaze flickering to Sarah, letting her hand be guided to run down the line of tissue. Her thumb rests against Sarah's jaw as her fingers map out the line. )

No. I didn't know.

( There's just layers and layers to how difficult Sarah's life is, how much Sarissa doesn't know, how much pain she lives with. Some part of Sarissa can't help just be like "this, this sort of bullshit is why I want to protect you and not make you deal with shit," but it's not a part that she'll give any voice to. Instead she kisses Sarah's cheek, rests her head against Sarah's. )

What happened?

[coppelganger]

This guy was working for Rachel, and I snuck into her flat. He wanted information from me but I didn't have it. So he tied me up in the shower and used a scalpel.

[ She pauses. There's a lot of other shit there, the wanting Kira and the fact that Helena was supposed to be dead, but she doesn't mention them because mentioning them would make this story three hours long. ]

Helena killed him. I don't think about it much. So it's okay, what happened. With Sylar, I mean. I'm fine. [ "I don't think about it much" is a lie and not a lie. She doesn't think about it much when she's awake. ]

[magnitudes]

Jesus.

( Barely audible, little more then a breath, and she moves the plate and food off her lap and sets it all on the coffee table. It'll get cooler, of course, but that hardly matters. Nothing else matters, right now, beyond Sarah, and Sarissa wraps the arm that was being used to trace the scar across Sarah's chest, easing her into a sort of lopsided hug.

It takes a little while for her to put together a reply. )

I— get what you're saying, that it's not like Sylar and— that I didn't bring bad things into a life that was all perfect and tear it up, or something. ( At least, she thinks that's what it means. ) But the thing is, Saroula, messed up things are still messed up, even if you've dealt with it before, or you're used to it — that don't make it any less terrible than it was brand spanking new.

( Feelings are hard, she's not good at this, but she rests her chin on Sarah's shoulder. ) I'm glad Helena stopped him.