Clarisse certainly does bring a very weird energy into their room. Abby hasn't been awake for very long, she was having a weird dream. Not a nightmare per say, just – a weird amalgamation of different things, some humble task she was doing that inexplicably felt like a live or die situation, and Flint grading her on it for some reason? All of her hair was chopped off. Edgard was there.
She's sitting up in bed, still parsing it out when Clarisse appears in the doorway. It's good to see her. Kind of? She doesn't look very happy to see Abby in return.
"Yeah. You okay?"
She's been staying with Ellie for the last few nights, which is fine, Abby no longer gives a shit about that, but it would have been nice to have her company after... everything. At least the dog has to stick with her (though he is currently out, and loose in the Gallows).
It's not like she and Ellie broke up over this shit, but they could've. And things seemed kind of okay after, but Clarisse still feels like she's been punched in the stomach a bunch of times and then dunked in gross water and wrung out and drop-kicked down a dirty flight of stairs and left there for a few days in the scorching sun. Emotionally.
She crosses to her own bed and sits on the edge, running her fingers over the blanket again and again so she has something to fidget with. She's facing Abby, but she can't quite look at her.
"Ellie and I talked last night. She told me some things." Clarisse knows she probably doesn't need to get too specific about what kind of things. "I just wanted you to know that." So there's no secrets between them. So Abby knows where they stand.
She watches Clarisse come and sit on her bed, and pick at her blanket, and not look at her. She's assuming that Clarisse saw something in the temple, a terrible or sad memory of hers that she'll have to explain. She presses her back teeth together and waits, releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding when she finally speaks up.
"Oh." Right. That. Her... side of things.
It's Abby's turn to look down at her blanket, tucked around her waist. "Okay." She frowns, and picks at a little flap of skin on her thumb, feeling weirdly guilty. Why should she? It's not as if anybody ever hands you a manual on how to deal with a situation like this; she's been doing her best. Right?
"... We talked about that," she confesses, "About telling you what happened. We were gonna tell you different things, but I – didn't know when to bring it all up."
She adds awkwardly, "You guys okay?" Like. Relationship-wise...
Her mouth twists like she's trying not to scowl, but she's never been great at hiding her feelings—she's pissed that they talked about it so long ago and then neither of them said anything to her.
Abby's question makes her balk, and she almost snaps something like what do you care? but stops herself. She keeps reminding herself that it isn't Abby she's mad at, but it's hard. Her nerves are frayed, and she hasn't had time to process all the things Ellie told her, and here she is waiting on Abby to tell her more, because what else is she supposed to do? She lives here.
"We didn't break up, if that's what you mean," she says finally.
Abby nods. Obviously they aren't the same – and it's more than a bit fucked up – but Clarisse and Ellie occupy the same space in her mind that Mel and Owen did: two people in her life who happen to be in a relationship with each other, one she tries her best not to look directly at. They're happy together and good for them, but she doesn't want to hear any details. She's still glad they didn't break up though, it would have felt like she had a hand in doing that if it had gone the other way.
Clarisse doesn't look relieved about this at all. She looks stressed out, like she wants to shout but she's holding back from doing it, and there is a tiny, morbidly curious part of her that wonders how it all went. What she thinks.
So she asks, "What happened?" Light, and casual. Offering her the chance to talk, if she likes.
For a few seconds it seems like Clarisse might not answer. She chews on her bottom lip, staring off at some point over Abby's shoulder, knowing that she shouldn't do this but needing to do it at the same time. She doesn't have anyone else to talk to about this.
"I saw a couple things. In the temple. They upset me." And that's an understatement. "When we got back I avoided her because I was pissed off, embarrassed, but last night we talked. She talked, mostly. I sat there and listened to it." She puts her face in her hands, breathing through her fingers. "The fucked up thing is that a lot of it I wouldn't have been angry about, you know? If it'd just been Seattle? It's not great but it's not like I can judge, with my family. But ditching her family so she could go on some fucking unhinged revenge quest and 'finish what she started' and threaten a little kid at knifepoint? I'm fucking sick about it. I feel like I don't even know her. Like... who does that?"
It's not like she thinks Abby's going to have an answer for her. If there even is an answer. But it's something she's going to be asking herself for a long time after this.
Fuck, she really did tell her everything. Clarisse probably knows more about what happened than Abby does. While she's listening she pulls the tie out of the end of her braid, grabs the dark brown, wooden comb she keeps on her bedside table, starts to drag it slowly through her hair. It's a comforting thing.
There isn't an answer for her question, not really, but it feels disingenuous not to reply to it. Abby doesn't stop combing. "Me."
If she heard about everything, she knows about Joel. She doesn't know the extent to which Abby went to find him, because Ellie doesn't know that either, but she was out of her mind over it, for years. If she had to hold a kid at knifepoint to get information on his whereabouts? She probably would have done it. She would have done anything. She isn't a good person either.
"I'm not defending it," she adds, "It wasn't right. It was fucked up, but it happened."
Clarisse decides she's just going to flop onto her back on the bed, so she can stare up at the ceiling instead of having to avoid looking at Abby the whole time.
"Guess you two are just made for each other," she mutters, and yeah, it's a bitchy thing to say, but she's over it.
She shuffles her legs, kicking first one boot onto the floor, then the other. She's not leaving this room today. (Unless this conversation goes so badly that she feels like she can't be around Abby anymore. Then all bets are off.)
Abby snorts. "... You're actually not the first person to say that to me."
Or the first person to get caught in the middle of them. Abby knows it fucking sucks. Clarisse isn't alone in wishing it wasn't like this.
Setting the comb aside she drags her fingers slowly through the waves of her hair, sectioning it out before she starts to slowly braid. "That why you've been avoiding our room too?"
"No," Clarisse says, "I was avoiding our room because you stink it up so bad."
Look, she's never going to pass up an opportunity to roast Abby (lovingly). Her heart's not really in it, though, and after a few seconds she admits, "Yeah."
She isn't mad at Abby the way she's mad at Ellie. But it's a lot to deal with.
"Shut up," she replies automatically, and falls silent. She's braiding slowly, but she still finishes before she can formulate anything to say in response. What do you say to that? Even apologising feels lame and stupid and not enough.
Tying off the braid, she tosses it back over her shoulder, and looks at Clarisse.
"Well, yeah," Clarisse says flatly, "I'm pissed at both of you for talking about me and deciding what I'd be allowed to know about you, like, three months ago, and then not actually telling me anything."
But even in that instance, her anger falls more toward Ellie. And she knows it isn't entirely fair, but Ellie's the one she's been lying in bed with night after night, and she can't just turn her feelings off.
Abby can't help wincing. Without realising it, she's scooped her braid back over her shoulder again to tug at it, fucking with the loose ends as she mulls a couple words over.
"She really cares about what you think. I accused her of hiding some shit from me because she was trying to trick me into trusting her." Saying it out loud is embarrassing, especially when it's so obvious Ellie wasn't trying to do that, but at the time that's what it felt like. "She didn't want that to happen with you. And it's kind of a hard thing to bring up when you know what it sounds like."
Eugh... is she really going to sit here and stick up for Ellie? This sucks. She sighs heavily. "We fucked that up, obviously, but I don't know how we couldn't have."
"It would've helped if she hadn't namedropped the baby over a month ago and skipped over the part where she was raising him," Clarisse mutters darkly.
Because that's a big part of it. The revenge and the murder weren't amazing to hear about, obviously, but Clarisse can at least relate to those concepts. Finding out her girlfriend has a kid, even if that kid is in some other universe, is fucking her up way worse.
Again, though, not Abby's fault. Unless Abby knew about that, too, and didn't say anything. Then it's... partly her fault.
Abby looks up instantly, frowning. Clarisse is still lying flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling, her jaw set. She looks pretty pissed off, but it's not like anybody would expect her to be anything else, considering. "The what?"
Clarisse knows immediately that she fucked up, and Abby doesn't know anything about JJ, but the problem is that she's too hurt to care enough to stop herself from fucking up worse.
"Her girlfriend's kid. She had him after Seattle and they moved onto a farm and were raising him together." Until Ellie decided to leave, but Clarisse doesn't want to get into all that.
"I'm allowed to be mad. Right?" She isn't just being a dick, right? It's kind of fucked up not to tell someone you're dating that you technically have a kid somewhere, even if you have your reasons for keeping it to yourself, right? Right??
She realises what Clarisse is talking about in stages, the first round hitting her when she realises Clarisse isn't saying Ellie had a baby, second as she remembers that pregnant woman in the theater, the one she held a knife to the throat of. That one makes her feel sick, stomach churning. Relief pokes a few fingers through. Obviously she was fine, she... had her baby. They moved onto a farm and raised him together, but Ellie left, she must have, because she was there. At the end.
For a moment she doesn't even process Clarisse's question, too busy tripping through all of the implications. Then she says, "Yeah," haltingly. "I think so."
She feels mad. She feels disgusted, and she doesn't know what to say.
It seems to occur to Clarisse, all of a sudden, that they shouldn't be talking about this, and that bringing it up at all was a shitty thing for her to do. She just took very private, personal information of Ellie's and handed it over to Abby without hesitating.
She hadn't known at first that Abby hadn't known about the kid, but... still.
She falls into a brooding, guilty silence, still staring up at the ceiling. Wrings her hands together and uses one thumbnail to pick at the other one. Click. Click. Clickclickclick.
It's a fairly awkward silence. Abby, upon noticing Clarisse is maybe wishing she hadn't just said all of that, releases a held breath. She unclenches her jaw.
"That – must have been a lot. To hear all at once."
The baby thing in and of itself is wild, and it was only one slice of the insane pie. "You okay?"
"Oh. Is this some... new thing that couples are doing together that I don't know about?"
It's a bad joke, but she's trying to make Clarisse laugh, even if only a little bit. She looks stressed out over there, stretched out prone, pinging her nails off of each other as she picks at her fingers.
Clarisse snorts. It's not a genuine laugh, but it's the closest thing she can manage.
"Yeah. You wouldn't know about it because you're always single." Boom, roasted.
She stops messing with her thumbnails and rolls onto her side so she can look at Abby. She knows that Abby is going to Hate This, but she has to be honest and she doesn't have anyone else to say it to.
"I think... I love her," she says quietly. It's why this all hurts so much. If she didn't love Ellie, she wouldn't care, right? "Don't—tell anybody I said that."
"You're so funny," Abby tells her witheringly, and her eyes go right to Clarisse's face the moment she rolls over, baring herself. This means Clarisse gets treated to an expression of distaste that forms before Abby can catch it: a scrunch in her mouth, brow furrowing, a tightness in her jaw.
"Oh." She doesn't hate it, but it's weird. Clearly, this thing with the two of them is not just a thing, it has staying power. Abby wonders how it got this big when she wasn't looking. While she was being 'always single' or whatever.
Big feelings all around. Realising she should at least try to be a better friend than this, she gives Clarisse a thumbs up. "I won't tell."
But, "Are you gonna tell her? Honestly, it doesn't really do anything for me."
The look on Abby's face isn't any kind of surprise, but at least she doesn't audibly gag or anything. Clarisse knows that she's trying. This is most definitely not the conversation either of them thought they'd be having right now, but here it is.
"Yeeeeah," she says, and her face is a little red, "I mean... eventually, sure."
It feels like she and Ellie have been dating for months and months, but that isn't really true. It's complicated. And saying it right after all this would feel weird, almost performative.
Abby considers this, and the look on Clarisse's face, her reddening ears. It's weirdly sweet. She tries not to think about how she'd actually be really happy for her if they weren't talking about Ellie right now, because it makes her feel like an asshole.
"Well," and this feels fair, "if you haven't told her in... three months, I'm doing it."
That'll light a fire under her. It's probably better to get in now, establish this hard rule before all the pining starts. If she has to lie here for more than three months listening to Clarisse agonise over how to tell somebody she loves them, she really will audibly gag.
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She's sitting up in bed, still parsing it out when Clarisse appears in the doorway. It's good to see her. Kind of? She doesn't look very happy to see Abby in return.
"Yeah. You okay?"
She's been staying with Ellie for the last few nights, which is fine, Abby no longer gives a shit about that, but it would have been nice to have her company after... everything. At least the dog has to stick with her (though he is currently out, and loose in the Gallows).
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It's not like she and Ellie broke up over this shit, but they could've. And things seemed kind of okay after, but Clarisse still feels like she's been punched in the stomach a bunch of times and then dunked in gross water and wrung out and drop-kicked down a dirty flight of stairs and left there for a few days in the scorching sun. Emotionally.
She crosses to her own bed and sits on the edge, running her fingers over the blanket again and again so she has something to fidget with. She's facing Abby, but she can't quite look at her.
"Ellie and I talked last night. She told me some things." Clarisse knows she probably doesn't need to get too specific about what kind of things. "I just wanted you to know that." So there's no secrets between them. So Abby knows where they stand.
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"Oh." Right. That. Her... side of things.
It's Abby's turn to look down at her blanket, tucked around her waist. "Okay." She frowns, and picks at a little flap of skin on her thumb, feeling weirdly guilty. Why should she? It's not as if anybody ever hands you a manual on how to deal with a situation like this; she's been doing her best. Right?
"... We talked about that," she confesses, "About telling you what happened. We were gonna tell you different things, but I – didn't know when to bring it all up."
She adds awkwardly, "You guys okay?" Like. Relationship-wise...
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Her mouth twists like she's trying not to scowl, but she's never been great at hiding her feelings—she's pissed that they talked about it so long ago and then neither of them said anything to her.
Abby's question makes her balk, and she almost snaps something like what do you care? but stops herself. She keeps reminding herself that it isn't Abby she's mad at, but it's hard. Her nerves are frayed, and she hasn't had time to process all the things Ellie told her, and here she is waiting on Abby to tell her more, because what else is she supposed to do? She lives here.
"We didn't break up, if that's what you mean," she says finally.
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Clarisse doesn't look relieved about this at all. She looks stressed out, like she wants to shout but she's holding back from doing it, and there is a tiny, morbidly curious part of her that wonders how it all went. What she thinks.
So she asks, "What happened?" Light, and casual. Offering her the chance to talk, if she likes.
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"I saw a couple things. In the temple. They upset me." And that's an understatement. "When we got back I avoided her because I was pissed off, embarrassed, but last night we talked. She talked, mostly. I sat there and listened to it." She puts her face in her hands, breathing through her fingers. "The fucked up thing is that a lot of it I wouldn't have been angry about, you know? If it'd just been Seattle? It's not great but it's not like I can judge, with my family. But ditching her family so she could go on some fucking unhinged revenge quest and 'finish what she started' and threaten a little kid at knifepoint? I'm fucking sick about it. I feel like I don't even know her. Like... who does that?"
It's not like she thinks Abby's going to have an answer for her. If there even is an answer. But it's something she's going to be asking herself for a long time after this.
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There isn't an answer for her question, not really, but it feels disingenuous not to reply to it. Abby doesn't stop combing. "Me."
If she heard about everything, she knows about Joel. She doesn't know the extent to which Abby went to find him, because Ellie doesn't know that either, but she was out of her mind over it, for years. If she had to hold a kid at knifepoint to get information on his whereabouts? She probably would have done it. She would have done anything. She isn't a good person either.
"I'm not defending it," she adds, "It wasn't right. It was fucked up, but it happened."
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"Guess you two are just made for each other," she mutters, and yeah, it's a bitchy thing to say, but she's over it.
She shuffles her legs, kicking first one boot onto the floor, then the other. She's not leaving this room today. (Unless this conversation goes so badly that she feels like she can't be around Abby anymore. Then all bets are off.)
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Or the first person to get caught in the middle of them. Abby knows it fucking sucks. Clarisse isn't alone in wishing it wasn't like this.
Setting the comb aside she drags her fingers slowly through the waves of her hair, sectioning it out before she starts to slowly braid. "That why you've been avoiding our room too?"
She noticed.
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Look, she's never going to pass up an opportunity to roast Abby (lovingly). Her heart's not really in it, though, and after a few seconds she admits, "Yeah."
She isn't mad at Abby the way she's mad at Ellie. But it's a lot to deal with.
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Tying off the braid, she tosses it back over her shoulder, and looks at Clarisse.
"Are you mad at me?"
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But even in that instance, her anger falls more toward Ellie. And she knows it isn't entirely fair, but Ellie's the one she's been lying in bed with night after night, and she can't just turn her feelings off.
"As far as everything else goes, I don't know."
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"She really cares about what you think. I accused her of hiding some shit from me because she was trying to trick me into trusting her." Saying it out loud is embarrassing, especially when it's so obvious Ellie wasn't trying to do that, but at the time that's what it felt like. "She didn't want that to happen with you. And it's kind of a hard thing to bring up when you know what it sounds like."
Eugh... is she really going to sit here and stick up for Ellie? This sucks. She sighs heavily. "We fucked that up, obviously, but I don't know how we couldn't have."
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Because that's a big part of it. The revenge and the murder weren't amazing to hear about, obviously, but Clarisse can at least relate to those concepts. Finding out her girlfriend has a kid, even if that kid is in some other universe, is fucking her up way worse.
Again, though, not Abby's fault. Unless Abby knew about that, too, and didn't say anything. Then it's... partly her fault.
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The... baby?? She adds, stupidly, "What baby?"
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"Her girlfriend's kid. She had him after Seattle and they moved onto a farm and were raising him together." Until Ellie decided to leave, but Clarisse doesn't want to get into all that.
"I'm allowed to be mad. Right?" She isn't just being a dick, right? It's kind of fucked up not to tell someone you're dating that you technically have a kid somewhere, even if you have your reasons for keeping it to yourself, right? Right??
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For a moment she doesn't even process Clarisse's question, too busy tripping through all of the implications. Then she says, "Yeah," haltingly. "I think so."
She feels mad. She feels disgusted, and she doesn't know what to say.
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She hadn't known at first that Abby hadn't known about the kid, but... still.
She falls into a brooding, guilty silence, still staring up at the ceiling. Wrings her hands together and uses one thumbnail to pick at the other one. Click. Click. Clickclickclick.
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"That – must have been a lot. To hear all at once."
The baby thing in and of itself is wild, and it was only one slice of the insane pie. "You okay?"
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Just not today.
"I had to tell her about something fucked up I did, too." Like, not as fucked up as all that, but still. "It was just... a really long night."
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It's a bad joke, but she's trying to make Clarisse laugh, even if only a little bit. She looks stressed out over there, stretched out prone, pinging her nails off of each other as she picks at her fingers.
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"Yeah. You wouldn't know about it because you're always single." Boom, roasted.
She stops messing with her thumbnails and rolls onto her side so she can look at Abby. She knows that Abby is going to Hate This, but she has to be honest and she doesn't have anyone else to say it to.
"I think... I love her," she says quietly. It's why this all hurts so much. If she didn't love Ellie, she wouldn't care, right? "Don't—tell anybody I said that."
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"Oh." She doesn't hate it, but it's weird. Clearly, this thing with the two of them is not just a thing, it has staying power. Abby wonders how it got this big when she wasn't looking. While she was being 'always single' or whatever.
Big feelings all around. Realising she should at least try to be a better friend than this, she gives Clarisse a thumbs up. "I won't tell."
But, "Are you gonna tell her? Honestly, it doesn't really do anything for me."
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"Yeeeeah," she says, and her face is a little red, "I mean... eventually, sure."
It feels like she and Ellie have been dating for months and months, but that isn't really true. It's complicated. And saying it right after all this would feel weird, almost performative.
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"Well," and this feels fair, "if you haven't told her in... three months, I'm doing it."
That'll light a fire under her. It's probably better to get in now, establish this hard rule before all the pining starts. If she has to lie here for more than three months listening to Clarisse agonise over how to tell somebody she loves them, she really will audibly gag.
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