It's not an easy thing to have asked, and Ellie half expects Abby to leave after this. Hell, she kind of wants to leave, and it's her own room. Her skin aches, but she breathes through it, lets it pass.
Yeah. They're not done.
Ellie's forgotten how she wanted to approach this, though, and it feels so fucking weird and awkward, but it also has to be done.
"Clarisse," she says, pressing her lips together. Don't blush. Don't fucking blush.
"I- haven't told her anything. At all. She says she doesn't care about whatever history's between us. But... it's gonna come up, you know?"
It's inevitable, given this world, given how many things have been dragged uncomfortably to the surface, through magic, through nightmares, through shared dreams.
Aw, hell. Abby's attention jumps back to her instantly the moment she says it, and like that, trying so hard to be casual. She can't help but notice Ellie has turned pink. How could she possibly feel more awkward and on edge listening to Ellie get flustered while bringing up her roommate than she did asking her about Nora?
She doesn't say anything. Her arms have migrated back to her chest, crossed over each other. Her mouth has dropped into that usual frown, but she's not annoyed or anything. Default expression.
Ellie's right, anyways. They need to decide on what they're gonna... say. To other people. Before they all get caught up in the middle of this shit.
Huh, she's just thought of something.
"... Do most people even know we talk? Or do they still think we hate each other." You know, after the cunt incident.
"Yeah, but." Dismissive, "We had to work together in Seattle for the sake of everybody else." So it could be easily explained away like that, right. Wait, why does she even care if other people think she hates Ellie or not. It shouldn't matter to anybody other than Ellie anyways.
A weird sort of relief arcs through her stomach. Weird but not terrible. It's good that Abby told someone, at least. She gets the feeling that she doesn't talk a whole lot.
"I told him to stop pairing you with me for upcoming missions, and he said no," is the watered down version of what happened, embarrassing even when stripped back. She hopes that Ellie never finds out she completely lost her temper with him, yelled and slammed his door. There was no harm done, not really. Only a bruise on her ego.
"Other people know a little," she adds, gruffly. "I talked about the Rattlers a few times."
Ellie fights not to pull a face. Yeah, that's pretty much what Flint would say, wouldn't he? There's a reason Ellie hasn't exactly gone to the higher-ups with anything. Barring Tony, but. That was more of a friend to friend than a security thing.
Exactly, Abby says, like it's something they can measure.
"... she's probably gonna ask about my fingers," Ellie mutters. "At some point. And she knows who Joel is, just not."
Ellie pauses, looking away and slowly running her tongue over her bottom lip.
"What happened."
Deep breaths. "And she probably deserves to know what I did. To your people."
And to you, she wants to stay, but stops short of it.
It... sounds completely fucking bizarre coming out of Ellie's mouth. She doesn't know what Clarisse could have done to deserve hearing about the various ways in which all of her friends were hunted down and murdered. Part of her gets that Ellie is self-flagellating (she has done this before too); Clarisse is close enough to the both of them now that they can try and scare her with the terrible details just to see if she runs.
But Abby's chest feels tight. She says shortly, "Don't talk about them like that."
Let me tell you all the terrible things I did and you can make a judgement call. Never mind all the actual people who died to exist as a stand-in for some kind of relationship test. People that Abby loved, and misses more than anything. "I've already told her a few things about Manny anyway, I'll tell her that part."
Adding fuck you isn't necessary when it's already there in her tone.
This conversation was never gonna be easy, no matter how much they understand each other.
Ellie bites back the immediate urge to snap back you know why, because Abby's done the same shit. They both of them are shitty people and maybe people deserve to know that before they decide they care about them. Or maybe Abby just doesn't remember. So she lets Abby finish speaking, sits there and takes a breath.
"Because I didn't tell you everything," Ellie says, biting off each word. Not so much aggressively as because it still hurts. "And it... hurt you."
Abby had felt tricked. Like Ellie had done it on purpose. Like she'd made her trust her on purpose, only to find out what kind of person she was. Only to find out that Ellie had hurt someone that Abby cared about.
It's not something that Ellie wants to think about right now, but she has to.
Silence crackles between them, staccato, and she realises she's clenching her arms across herself tightly, that Ellie is reeling herself back on the other side of the room. This would have been enough of a spark to start a fire if they'd been having this conversation a year ago. All Abby has to do now is think of Ellie mopping her up in that fucking cellar and it kills any desire to pick a fight.
That is some semblance of growth. They have been working, this entire time, to come to slightly better terms with each other, and they have.
And yet, what Ellie says still surprises her, mostly because she didn't think Ellie had... internalised that part of their conflict, at all, and it's oddly gratifying that she has.
Abby looks at her. Really looks at her, the downward tug of her mouth and dip of her head toward the ground, eyes fixed firmly at her feet.
"Yeah," she says eventually. "Okay." Okay. That's not what she was really getting at when she asked Ellie why, but this answer is satisfying to her anyway. But, "Like I said, I'll- I want to tell her that part." Maybe Ellie should talk about what she did to Joel, that... seems fair. She can't say that out loud. Seems flippant.
In her own way, Ellie has already indirectly answered it. She values Clarisse's feelings. She doesn't want to hurt her, if she finds out down the line that Ellie is a lot less of a good person than she's assumed.
That Clarisse trusts her, and she cares about that. That Clarisse trusts Abby, and that Ellie cares about that, too.
What she doesn't answer is why Clarisse deserves this particular consideration, and that's the one that Ellie's not entirely sure she wants to look directly at. She knows damn well where things are headed, if she doesn't screw them up. But that doesn't make it not a little bit terrifying.
"Okay."
It feels raw, saying it. Leaves her feeling hollowed out on the spot and aching with the aftershocks. The both of them right here and now, putting words to it. Deciding how to live with it.
They never could have done this before. It's been a long, awful road to get to a place where they can.
It really has. That they've managed to come and talk to each other about it at all is a victory in itself but Abby feels steadier for having said it too, even though it aches. Look how easily they came to terms with this. Part of her thinks she should be insulted or angry, hating herself for finding a compromise. It might come later.
She rubs the back of her neck, and makes herself say the thing she doesn't want to.
"Will you tell her about him?"
Can't quite speak his name. Coward. She could say nothing but for five years of her life, but the feelings are messy, complicated. In a way, she'd be glad not to have to explain why she killed him to Clarisse.
Ellie works her mouth, drops her gaze to her blankets, and picks at a stray thread. She still doesn't want to look at Abby when she says it. Is relieved when she doesn't say his name.
She still can't stand the thought of Joel's name in Abby's mouth. It no longer feels like a betrayal to sit here and speak to her, but that doesn't mean she can stomach it easily.
Abby took him from her, and Ellie is rapidly running out of steam to continue this conversation. Her fingertips are tingling.
Abby nods, in lieu of saying anything. There's a coppery taste in her mouth, blood-like and familiar, the tang that accompanies clenching her jaw for too long. She tries to relax, but she has to be actively thinking about it to do it. That's impossible with Ellie sitting there on her bed not saying anything and staring hard at a thread, picking. She probably wishes she could do that to Abby. Pluck her out, and toss her away.
Time for her to go.
"Ellie." It slips out, quiet and thoughtless. Abby furrows her brow, grasping at loose ends.
"Thanks," is what she settles on, "For- talking."
It's not easy, but they're doing it. They're making space for it to happen, that isn't nothing.
Abby saying her name is a quiet shock, a sting against her nerves, especially because it sounds so gentle. It draws Ellie's eyes up from the top of her blanket, her scarred fingertips, back to Abby's face.
It flusters her, but not in a way that feels terrible.
"Yeah," she says. It's an awkward feeling. But... good, too. Yeah. They both are trying, aren't they. "You too. Thanks."
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Yeah. They're not done.
Ellie's forgotten how she wanted to approach this, though, and it feels so fucking weird and awkward, but it also has to be done.
"Clarisse," she says, pressing her lips together. Don't blush. Don't fucking blush.
"I- haven't told her anything. At all. She says she doesn't care about whatever history's between us. But... it's gonna come up, you know?"
It's inevitable, given this world, given how many things have been dragged uncomfortably to the surface, through magic, through nightmares, through shared dreams.
"And it's not just mine."
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She doesn't say anything. Her arms have migrated back to her chest, crossed over each other. Her mouth has dropped into that usual frown, but she's not annoyed or anything. Default expression.
Ellie's right, anyways. They need to decide on what they're gonna... say. To other people. Before they all get caught up in the middle of this shit.
Huh, she's just thought of something.
"... Do most people even know we talk? Or do they still think we hate each other." You know, after the cunt incident.
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Hopefully that made an impression. But the rest comes a heartbeat later, and Ellie has to stop on that feeling, not sure what to make of it.
Abby doesn't hate her.
"I think only Derrica, Mobius and Glimmer, like... picked up on the whole thing."
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Abby's got a look on her face, a sort of scrunch.
She says, "I might have told Flint."
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And they'd both been really bruised up.
"What'd he say?"
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"Other people know a little," she adds, gruffly. "I talked about the Rattlers a few times."
But not Ellie.
"What do you want to tell Clarisse, exactly?"
Everything? Should they just tell her everything?
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Exactly, Abby says, like it's something they can measure.
"... she's probably gonna ask about my fingers," Ellie mutters. "At some point. And she knows who Joel is, just not."
Ellie pauses, looking away and slowly running her tongue over her bottom lip.
"What happened."
Deep breaths. "And she probably deserves to know what I did. To your people."
And to you, she wants to stay, but stops short of it.
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It... sounds completely fucking bizarre coming out of Ellie's mouth. She doesn't know what Clarisse could have done to deserve hearing about the various ways in which all of her friends were hunted down and murdered. Part of her gets that Ellie is self-flagellating (she has done this before too); Clarisse is close enough to the both of them now that they can try and scare her with the terrible details just to see if she runs.
But Abby's chest feels tight. She says shortly, "Don't talk about them like that."
Let me tell you all the terrible things I did and you can make a judgement call. Never mind all the actual people who died to exist as a stand-in for some kind of relationship test. People that Abby loved, and misses more than anything. "I've already told her a few things about Manny anyway, I'll tell her that part."
Adding fuck you isn't necessary when it's already there in her tone.
This conversation was never gonna be easy, no matter how much they understand each other.
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"Because I didn't tell you everything," Ellie says, biting off each word. Not so much aggressively as because it still hurts. "And it... hurt you."
Abby had felt tricked. Like Ellie had done it on purpose. Like she'd made her trust her on purpose, only to find out what kind of person she was. Only to find out that Ellie had hurt someone that Abby cared about.
It's not something that Ellie wants to think about right now, but she has to.
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Silence crackles between them, staccato, and she realises she's clenching her arms across herself tightly, that Ellie is reeling herself back on the other side of the room. This would have been enough of a spark to start a fire if they'd been having this conversation a year ago. All Abby has to do now is think of Ellie mopping her up in that fucking cellar and it kills any desire to pick a fight.
That is some semblance of growth. They have been working, this entire time, to come to slightly better terms with each other, and they have.
And yet, what Ellie says still surprises her, mostly because she didn't think Ellie had... internalised that part of their conflict, at all, and it's oddly gratifying that she has.
Abby looks at her. Really looks at her, the downward tug of her mouth and dip of her head toward the ground, eyes fixed firmly at her feet.
"Yeah," she says eventually. "Okay." Okay. That's not what she was really getting at when she asked Ellie why, but this answer is satisfying to her anyway. But, "Like I said, I'll- I want to tell her that part." Maybe Ellie should talk about what she did to Joel, that... seems fair. She can't say that out loud. Seems flippant.
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That Clarisse trusts her, and she cares about that. That Clarisse trusts Abby, and that Ellie cares about that, too.
What she doesn't answer is why Clarisse deserves this particular consideration, and that's the one that Ellie's not entirely sure she wants to look directly at. She knows damn well where things are headed, if she doesn't screw them up. But that doesn't make it not a little bit terrifying.
"Okay."
It feels raw, saying it. Leaves her feeling hollowed out on the spot and aching with the aftershocks. The both of them right here and now, putting words to it. Deciding how to live with it.
They never could have done this before. It's been a long, awful road to get to a place where they can.
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She rubs the back of her neck, and makes herself say the thing she doesn't want to.
"Will you tell her about him?"
Can't quite speak his name. Coward. She could say nothing but for five years of her life, but the feelings are messy, complicated. In a way, she'd be glad not to have to explain why she killed him to Clarisse.
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She still can't stand the thought of Joel's name in Abby's mouth. It no longer feels like a betrayal to sit here and speak to her, but that doesn't mean she can stomach it easily.
Abby took him from her, and Ellie is rapidly running out of steam to continue this conversation. Her fingertips are tingling.
"Yeah," she says softly.
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Time for her to go.
"Ellie." It slips out, quiet and thoughtless. Abby furrows her brow, grasping at loose ends.
"Thanks," is what she settles on, "For- talking."
It's not easy, but they're doing it. They're making space for it to happen, that isn't nothing.
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It flusters her, but not in a way that feels terrible.
"Yeah," she says. It's an awkward feeling. But... good, too. Yeah. They both are trying, aren't they. "You too. Thanks."