| Details for It's Not Worth It |
| Summary: | Jenny's feeling down in the dumps, over being dumped and Marcus happens along to remind her that she's stronger than she thinks she is. |
| Date: | 1939-02-10 |
| Location: | Hogwarts Lakeshore |
| Related: | — |
| Characters |
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The weather is cold, but there is no snow. At least, no snow falling from the sky. There's a good amount of snow on the ground, though. It's still a few hours before curfew, and not feeling like studying and without any planned club activities, it was easier to come here, to the lake… to do what? Avoid everyone else? Think? Well, it works. It makes him feel better, this stupid lake.
Marcus chuckles, at nothing, at everything as he sits on a large rock and reaches down, to grab a small rock. He smirks at the rock, and lets it fly, really hard, watching it sink into the water, rather than skip.
Funny thing about the rocks down by the lake. They come and all sizes and shapes and some of them, just some of them, mind; hide people on the other side of them. Sitting in against the rock, rather than on, so that it provides a buffer from the wind. There's a blink though, from this person behind the rock, when that stone goes dancing out across the waters and after a moment of searching hands, Genevieve finds a rather flat one to send skipping out across the flat surface. Perhaps in an attempt to see if she can out skip the skipper.
It's actually pretty easy to out skip the skipper, since his rock just kind of sank. Still, as Marcus sees that other rock fly off and he blinks. Smirking, he reaches for another stone. And while that first one sank, this one, he lets fly… fully intending, or hoping to make it skip.
It skips once, twice, and then it sinks. He tsks at himself and waits, glancing in the direction that other stone flew from.
It crooked a little smile, something so simple as a stone dancing out across the water. Except…the next thing that went skipping out over the water didn't appear stone shaped at all and it had a little trouble skipping. It bounced once and then it sank. Gleaming white beneath the afternoon sky. Perhaps two and a half inches long and half an inch wide. Something black but twin in size followed it next, this time…without really waiting and it wasn't so much skipped, as hurled.
Again Marcus blinks as he sees the non-stone shaped object bounce, and then sink. He frowns, trying to determine what it is. He shrugs and looks around, for something non-stone to skip around. Nothing, nothing. He looks at his feet. Oh well.
There goes a shoe flying, it actually skips once, before it sinks. Then the second one. That sinks right away. Then, a pair of shoe-less feet, peek around the rock, making themselves visible for Jenny to see, as he wiggles his toes.
Jenny had a whole set of pieces to send flying, though it was hard to compete with shoes. The closest thing she had to that, was the flat of the chess board itself and after that second shoe went, so to did the board. Flung hard and long and it skipped, sending the remaining pieces falling across the water like hard little rain drops to be secreted away by the merfolk and who knew what else roamed beneath the waters. Whatever seemed to snatch up the board, most likely.
Which left..Jenny on the ground, with two pictures at her side, one of which had her sporting a dark nasty bruise on her face, complete with every other imperfection she possessed, all rendered into perfect detail with penciled marks. It really was beautifully done. But those toes, she blinks at.
"Oh. It's…your feet are going to get cold, you know."
The voice… that's a voice, that he will forever recognize. Marcus was smiling, as he saw things fly and it's not until he heard the voice, that a few things just clicked. The feet disappear.
There's a deep breath and a head slowly peeks over. "I'll be fine. If I need to, I'll just make myself new shoes from my robe," there's a bit of a pause, and he adds, "Hello, Solomon." There is no anger in his voice, there is a bit of flatness, but otherwise, the tone is very normal. "It's a little early for spring cleaning, I'd say."
"And it's a little cold for bare feet, but I still saw yours," Jenny answered, though some of the warmth had left her tone. Not that it'd been particularly playful to begin with. It was enough that she recognized the voice where she hadn't the toes and the all too fresh memories stacked against each other in her head. One deep breath lead to another and by grace and strength, nothing cracked in her features.
But stacked one atop the other, two bits of parchment set sail against the waters, where the parchment bloated and the lines faded, swirling away as the wind helped carry it off and out, to an inky black grave. "Hope the day finds you well and tomorrow still healthy."
He makes his way around the rock, standing there, in front of her with his bare feet. Marcus wiggles his toes and can't help but grin at her. "That's a fair point." He offers to her, and actually grins, as he wiggles his toes at her again.
Slowly he approaches, until he's next to her. "I'm going to sit down, because," he points to his feet, then hmms, then nods. "Because, yeah." And he sits. Frowning a little, he studies her as she speaks to him. "The day finds me alright enough. How about you, Jen?" He asks, curious.
"Because it's cold on the snow and warmer on my blanket?" Jen inquired, watching him as he sat. She didn't edge away, though she ensured that he had enough room there to be comfortable; without touching. But his grin earned a ghostly image of her smile.
Right up until he asked how she was. The tone is then perhaps, familiar. The difference between the last time she used it, when minimalizing what they'd had and now, is that he can see her eyes and the truth in them does little to match her lips. "I'm alright. Dealing with karma. But, it's a fair enough turn. I think you'd be impressed." Cheeky grin.
"That would be it," Marcus confirms, burrowing his toes into the blanket. Even after all that's happened, he can't help but smile at that ghost smile of hers. His eyes find the lake again, but only briefly for when she speaks again, they find her eyes.
And indeed, he sees everything. His first instinct is to reach out, to touch her arm. But he stops at that, his fingers barely brushing against her. He grins at her cheeky grin. "Go ahead, impress me then," he encourages her.
"Mmmm." Jenny considers, looking thoughtful and then, "You know, nah. It's not worth it. Rather like me, in the long run. But I will tell you this," the girl glanced in his direction, those dark eyes searching out his own. "And do please know that it is meant. I am sorry, for ever making you feel not good enough. Though, you're still sitting here talking to me, so perhaps that's the trick. Tell someone they aren't and they want to be around. Tell someone they're perfect and eventually they realize you aren't. Honestly, It kind of feels like last weekend, the last week, like all of it was nothing more than some glorified joke in an attempt at payback. And amazingly enough, it worked. Gloriously. I wouldn't have thought he had it in him, until he did."
Marcus arches a brow, his gaze meeting her gaze and holding it. The words cause him to eventually frown. "I'm sitting here, because this isn't about me, or us. It's about you," he simply says, with a shrug and he purses his lips. "I was angry, I am angry and I was pissed at you, but, before all this," he gestures with his hand. "Before us, the couple, we were us, the mates. And I'm not enough of a bastard to not remember the many times you were there for me, even with Peyton. Even while you…" He shakes his head, and just grins.
"Or maybe I'm just that much of an idiot. Who knows. But what I know is Silas hurt you, and he hurt you bad. And before I decide if I want to break his face or not, I want you to know, if you want to talk about it, well. I'm not the best listener in the world, but I can give it a shot." He considers. "Or I can let you punch me for a bit, whatever works."
There was a hint of a smile, when he made that mention of them being friends and that being the reason that he was there. The thanks was in her eyes, even if it didn't manage to make it past her lips. "Nah. Let him have it. Pity, perhaps, for being denied love by someone who threatened to cut him off or congratulations, for finally being free of the horrible girl. Attention, you see." She shook her head.
"It'll pass. And maybe one day I'll wake up and it'll stop hurting. After all, to take my own advice, it was just what, a few weeks? We're only sixteen? It passes." Old advice. Familiar on her tongue. Advice not four days ago.
Marcus' eyes regard Jenny. He listens to her, and looks at the river. He looks at the river for a very long a moment. And then? He suddenly pats her arm. It's a gentle pat, but also firm. The kind of pat one bloke might give to another. But that's not all he does.
He bumps her leg with his. And then he grins.
"You'll be alright," he simply says, in a matter of fact tone, and nods to her, before shoulder-checking her and then grinning. "Oh, you have something of his I can toss in the lake? I'll bet it'll make me feel better too," he tells her, sounding a bit like his old self.
"Yeah." Jen agrees, but her tone isn't entirely convinced. "I mean, I'm still here, which means that there's a chance to make tomorrow better and that's important. I've more time to practice, anyway." With Quidditch. Her world was shrinking again. Tunnelling back into that single focus, because it at least made sense.
That little bump to her leg though, was all it took, before she cracked and simply turned into him, burying her head against his shoulder to hide her face, while she cried.
"No." The words came ragged and pained. "No. It's all gone."
He wasn't expecting the crack, but Marcus is certainly ready for it. The moment it happens, the moment he feels her turn to him, her head against his shoulder, his arms wrap around her, drawing her in. He holds her in silence, letting her cry it out. One hand gently touches her hair, the other just holds her.
"Oh Jen," he finally says. "I'm not exactly known for sugar-coating things. It's going to hurt, it's going to hurt like hell," he tells her. "But I've seen you fight. Since I joined this school. I've seen you take your licks, I've seen you fall down, and I've seen you get back up." He nods at this. "And you'll get back up, because Merlin's beard, you're too fucking stubborn, to do anything else," he smiles at he says this. He bumps his forehead against hers.
"All that is gone, you'll be able to replace it. You will."
It was the bump. That little piece that was familiar and yet from another life entirely and just one more thing to remind of all things lost. We create our own hells. She cried though, shoulders shaking with the sound of her sobs, giving over to the act that was long overdue. She cried for Marcus and Silas, for her own fickle heart and for herself. And for a while, because it hurt, she wallowed in pity.
"I don't want it replaced, Marcus. And I'm tired of fighting. I'm so fucking tired of it. So tired."
"Then don't replace it. You think I'm finding someone to replace you with? No way. First of all, nobody kisses like you," Marcus says playfully. "I'll find someone else. But she'll never replace you. Just like I never replaced him." The words are firm now.
"But you don't get to throw the towel. The fighting fucking sucks, trust me, I know. But would you let me know throw that towel? I don't think you would," he says and gently bumps his leg against hers.
"Felt that? That means we're mates. Pain or not, anger or not. It means, that when shit gets really bad? I'll sit next to you, on your blanket, without shoes, wiggling my toes," he wiggles his toes. "And we'll cry, and we'll laugh. And you'll cry, Jen and you'll eventually laugh."
"One day you'll find someone who does," Jenny replies, "And they'll be better." Not that such a hopeful well wish was required because he well, more or less confirmed it himself but he didn't have to have done it right that second while she was still feeling miserable, did he? Dick. At least it earned a half smile.
"I don't think you should have a say on whether or not I can toss off the towel, either," she grumped, but accepted that little bump and offered a tenative one of her own back in response.
"You know…," that sad little note had crept back into her voice. "I had a promise like that once before but…it didn't really stick. Almost did. But didn't. So…here's to hoping, yeah?" …bu..mp…
"I don't know, I mean, that tongue of yours—" Marcus starts and then stops, smirking. His expression softens and he points to her half smile. As for the towel. He chuckles, but he says nothing of it. He just chuckles.
And he bumps her back.
He considers her words and shakes his head. "Nah, I don't do hoping," he says, wiggling his toes, and looking them for a moment. "I'm here now, aren't I?" He now meets her gaze. "I'll be there," he assures her. "And we'll cry and laugh," he nods at this. "Unless I'm stuck in school and you're out already, then you'll just have to wait until Hogsmeade Weekend," he sticks his tongue at her. Firm bump. "My toes are getting cold, however," he wiggles them again.
"I know you're trying to make me feel better," Jenny began, but the way he just kept touching on the memories was making her feel worse and not better. Added guilt to her misery. "But..I don't think I'm ready for jokes like that just yet. If that's okay?" There was a tiny little plea in the tone, in her eyes too as she considered him and just, left her head flopped against his shoulder while she wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve.
"But…thank you, Marcus. For…being here. And listening. I didn't really deserve it…but thank you."
"It's okay," Marcus simply says, his voice reassuring her as he leans his head against hers. "I forget sometimes that the way I deal with things isn't for everyone," he admits quietly.
He glances over at her thanks, an he lightly shrugs the shoulder she isn't resting again. "You're welcome, but that's what mates are for, Jen. And you'll always be my mate, no matter what." Little bump. "Let's go back inside," he suggests.