The creaking of her ceramic joint grew louder, no words came out as she began to tremble in earnest, in a sick combination of disgust, shame, and fear, the sound dying only when she sank to her knees, couldn't even be bothered or capable of making it the few steps to the side to his bed or a chair.
She just slowly folded where she stood as the truth of what that meant slowly filled her mind.
[The creaking is worrying, and he turns around just in time to see her crumple to the ground. Alarm raises high in his ears and he darts forward, arm scooping around her waist.]
[Beast didn't deserve an ounce of it. She knew that. If it was true, (and it was, wasn't it? No matter how she wanted to deny it, Joker saw it with his own eyes, Snake said it too-), then it was all her fault.
What about the rest? Snake had said she, too- but she had no memory of it. What about Dagger? Jumbo? Peter and Wendy?
What about Doll?
Beast let out a sob, shaking her head even as she put a hand over her mouth to try and keep anything else from escaping, her other hand put out as if to push him away-
Not because she didn't want comfort, or help. But because she didn't deserve it.]
[If it was fair, they'd all share the blame, wouldn't they. For letting it go on like they had? For falling for Black and Smile's acts? For not being strong enough? Joker, for inviting them to the circus. Doll, for catching the boy sneaking about and believing his lie. Beast herself, for being helpless against Black's advances.
Or for choosing to live like that in order to survive in the first place.
Beast shook her head again, felt the sting of hot tears on the back of her hand even as she sobbed brokenly through her fingers.]
It's my fault-
[But even if they all shared the blame... Joker would try to take responsibility. Beast would hate herself for what she'd done.]
Black, 'e-
[But the shame was too great to say it like she was afraid it had been- afraid it had been purely her weakness, that perhaps, really, she'd been that kind of woman all along-]
[For a second, he doesn't understand. How could it be her fault? But when she finally lets it slip- there's a small voice in the back of his mind that starts in realization that's what's been bothering her- but it's smothered immediately in the cold rage he feels. His hand gives a shake.]
I'll slit his throat when I see him here, I swear I will. [The hard glint in his eyes shows this isn't any idle threat, either. He's done worse things, God only knows, and he can dirty his hands for this.]
[But that isn't any sort of reassurance he realizes soon enough, and he takes in another sharp breath.]
He's... He ain't any sorta thing meant for our world. It ain't yer fault, Beast. It ain't.
She'd known the second she woke up what she'd done- and how wrong it had been. A deep ball of shame and wrong and anger that had lurched down in her the moment she opened her eyes to find Black, and her secrets, gone.
He'd used her. It was so clear in the aftermath, and yet every moment leading up to it was only a blur. Joker leaving, crying, Black arriving, his arms around her, too tight to get away from, and his words crawling in to her ears.
She'd kill him.
Even before she'd known exactly how she'd damned them all.]
It is-
[She grips his hand too hard, but she doesn't- can't notice, the shame and desire to confess she'd been holding in since arriving spilling free, unable to contain it.
She didn't know what he meant- "not meant for our world".]
Ye left an' I jus' wanted-
[An ounce of comfort.
Black had been right. She'd wanted to forget that Joker didn't love her back.]
[The pain in his hand is hardly noticeable. She could take his whole other arm right then and there, and he wouldn't mind. He already gave so much for his family as it was- what was one more thing anyway?]
[He just tries to lean in close, face resting against her hair.]
It's never yer fault, Beast, ain't nothin' ta apologize for, not for me.
[She should pull away. It was too painful, to have this comfort from him only now, and not when she'd wanted it. To have him say it wasn't her fault when she knew it in her heart it must be.
It was the only way to punish herself for what she'd done. So she should-]
It in't alright if yer dead-
[But instead she's rocking over his hand, clutching it to her breast, terribly conscious that it was the only one he had, (why, had it not come along?), that because of her-]
[His tone shifts to something almost lulling, like he can calm her down with a sweet tone alone. He tries to smile a well, but it's not his best effort.]
Here, we're alright, ain't we? Here we'll be fine, and the others'll show up no doubt.
[Even his best effort wouldn't be enough. How could it be? Maybe he'd had time to learn to accept it, but Beast hadn't. The shock was still too fresh, the guilt too new and heavy.
[He tightened his grip on her hand, swiping his thumb across her knuckles. Of this, he was determined to do. Nothing could be fixed- it's all out of his reach now. But maybe he can do something else, maybe he can make something here for all of them.]
[Just a bit of patience and a bit of luck. That's all he's praying for.]
[That, finally, made her lift her head, uncaring about tears or how wretched her expression might look. Spending almost your entire life with another person, in the dirt and the bilge filth of the streets...
[She still has his hand, so he can't wipe away her tears, so all he does is bump their heads together lightly.]
It's a queer place, won't lie about that, but there's food and a roof over our heads and a livin', so we can manage. The others'll show up eventually too, ain't any doubt about that. We'll do fine, we'll manage. We've managed in worse, yeah?
Perhaps it was selfish to want to believe so badly. If she could believe that it would assuage the ball of shame and guilt deep in her gut, if only slightly. It would give her hope when she felt as of she had absolutely none. Part of her thought she deserved to suffer in hopelessness for what she's done. But the other part wanted to believe.
She released his hand.
But only because she carefully, hesitantly, shamefully put hers around him instead, buried her face in his shoulder and squeezed.
Beast wanted to believe, but part of her couldn't. Not yet, perhaps.
But she nodded against his shoulder to try and force herself to.]
[He let's her in, holding her as tight as he can and taking a deep breath.]
[It's a lot to believe. He knows. So it's up to him- always up to him- to keep on leading and hoping the others follow. Snake already is, and he hopes Beast stays with him too.]
[In time, God willing, all the work will pay off. This Circus has its name for a reason.]
...Want ta stay in my tent for the night? Ya can take the bed with Angel, if ya don't mind 'er company.
[She stiffened a bit within the hold of his arm, around him where she held him, at his offer.
She wanted to.
Of course she wanted to.
It was painfully obvious that she wanted to.
But it dredged up memories she'd drag out of her head and lock away if she only could. Of the last night she could remember before she woke up in this strange place.]
Joker, ye know I-
[She started to whisper it in to his shoulder, but anticipating being cut off... actually ended up cutting herself off instead, choking it down in a sudden wave of self-disgust.]
[It'll never happen, he knows. He's seen a lot of impossible things in this place, but that sort of thing happening for them... No, he can't quite get himself to believe that.]
[For now, he just tries to wrap his arm around Beast and help her up, get her to the bed.]
It didn't put her at ease, but really- what could after what she'd learned. But she let him get her up without complaint, and, well. For Beast, that was something.]
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He was Phantomhive's.
[That night's something he won't forget, not anytime soon as much as he wishes he could.]
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Black was his butler.
They'd gone to Father's mansion.
Father and Joker were dead.
[She'd told Black who Father was.
The creaking of her ceramic joint grew louder, no words came out as she began to tremble in earnest, in a sick combination of disgust, shame, and fear, the sound dying only when she sank to her knees, couldn't even be bothered or capable of making it the few steps to the side to his bed or a chair.
She just slowly folded where she stood as the truth of what that meant slowly filled her mind.
She killed Joker.]
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Beast!
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What about the rest? Snake had said she, too- but she had no memory of it. What about Dagger? Jumbo? Peter and Wendy?
What about Doll?
Beast let out a sob, shaking her head even as she put a hand over her mouth to try and keep anything else from escaping, her other hand put out as if to push him away-
Not because she didn't want comfort, or help. But because she didn't deserve it.]
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[He can't read her mind, can't know what happened while he was gone, and his mind reaches the only conclusion it knows.]
...If ya hate me- I know ya never wanted 'em in the troupe, shoulda listened... If ya hate me, that's... that's fine.
[Because it's all his fault. The responsibility always came back to him because he was the one who ran the Circus in Father's stead.]
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Or for choosing to live like that in order to survive in the first place.
Beast shook her head again, felt the sting of hot tears on the back of her hand even as she sobbed brokenly through her fingers.]
It's my fault-
[But even if they all shared the blame... Joker would try to take responsibility. Beast would hate herself for what she'd done.]
Black, 'e-
[But the shame was too great to say it like she was afraid it had been- afraid it had been purely her weakness, that perhaps, really, she'd been that kind of woman all along-]
'e made me tell 'im who Father was-
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I'll slit his throat when I see him here, I swear I will. [The hard glint in his eyes shows this isn't any idle threat, either. He's done worse things, God only knows, and he can dirty his hands for this.]
[But that isn't any sort of reassurance he realizes soon enough, and he takes in another sharp breath.]
He's... He ain't any sorta thing meant for our world. It ain't yer fault, Beast. It ain't.
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She'd known the second she woke up what she'd done- and how wrong it had been. A deep ball of shame and wrong and anger that had lurched down in her the moment she opened her eyes to find Black, and her secrets, gone.
He'd used her. It was so clear in the aftermath, and yet every moment leading up to it was only a blur. Joker leaving, crying, Black arriving, his arms around her, too tight to get away from, and his words crawling in to her ears.
She'd kill him.
Even before she'd known exactly how she'd damned them all.]
It is-
[She grips his hand too hard, but she doesn't- can't notice, the shame and desire to confess she'd been holding in since arriving spilling free, unable to contain it.
She didn't know what he meant- "not meant for our world".]
Ye left an' I jus' wanted-
[An ounce of comfort.
Black had been right. She'd wanted to forget that Joker didn't love her back.]
I'm sorry-
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[The pain in his hand is hardly noticeable. She could take his whole other arm right then and there, and he wouldn't mind. He already gave so much for his family as it was- what was one more thing anyway?]
[He just tries to lean in close, face resting against her hair.]
It's never yer fault, Beast, ain't nothin' ta apologize for, not for me.
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[She should pull away. It was too painful, to have this comfort from him only now, and not when she'd wanted it. To have him say it wasn't her fault when she knew it in her heart it must be.
It was the only way to punish herself for what she'd done. So she should-]
It in't alright if yer dead-
[But instead she's rocking over his hand, clutching it to her breast, terribly conscious that it was the only one he had, (why, had it not come along?), that because of her-]
It'll never be alrigh'-
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[His tone shifts to something almost lulling, like he can calm her down with a sweet tone alone. He tries to smile a well, but it's not his best effort.]
Here, we're alright, ain't we? Here we'll be fine, and the others'll show up no doubt.
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So she only shook her head again.]
It isn't alright.
[How could it be?]
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[He tightened his grip on her hand, swiping his thumb across her knuckles. Of this, he was determined to do. Nothing could be fixed- it's all out of his reach now. But maybe he can do something else, maybe he can make something here for all of them.]
[Just a bit of patience and a bit of luck. That's all he's praying for.]
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You stopped caring about that kind of thing.]
'ow?
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[She still has his hand, so he can't wipe away her tears, so all he does is bump their heads together lightly.]
It's a queer place, won't lie about that, but there's food and a roof over our heads and a livin', so we can manage. The others'll show up eventually too, ain't any doubt about that. We'll do fine, we'll manage. We've managed in worse, yeah?
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Perhaps it was selfish to want to believe so badly. If she could believe that it would assuage the ball of shame and guilt deep in her gut, if only slightly. It would give her hope when she felt as of she had absolutely none. Part of her thought she deserved to suffer in hopelessness for what she's done. But the other part wanted to believe.
She released his hand.
But only because she carefully, hesitantly, shamefully put hers around him instead, buried her face in his shoulder and squeezed.
Beast wanted to believe, but part of her couldn't. Not yet, perhaps.
But she nodded against his shoulder to try and force herself to.]
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[It's a lot to believe. He knows. So it's up to him- always up to him- to keep on leading and hoping the others follow. Snake already is, and he hopes Beast stays with him too.]
[In time, God willing, all the work will pay off. This Circus has its name for a reason.]
...Want ta stay in my tent for the night? Ya can take the bed with Angel, if ya don't mind 'er company.
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She wanted to.
Of course she wanted to.
It was painfully obvious that she wanted to.
But it dredged up memories she'd drag out of her head and lock away if she only could. Of the last night she could remember before she woke up in this strange place.]
Joker, ye know I-
[She started to whisper it in to his shoulder, but anticipating being cut off... actually ended up cutting herself off instead, choking it down in a sudden wave of self-disgust.]
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[Just that. He tells himself it so much, so firmly, he can believe it for truth.]
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... Like we were kids. Yeah.
[As if they could ever go back to that. As much as those years in the workhouse seemed like a paradise compared to how messed up things seemed now.]
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[For now, he just tries to wrap his arm around Beast and help her up, get her to the bed.]
Up we go now...
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I can do it.
[Muttered, even though she was obviously benefiting from the help.]
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[He gives one of his smiles, hoping to put her at ease. To be honest, it's an act he never is sure will work or not- not with Beast.]
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It didn't put her at ease, but really- what could after what she'd learned. But she let him get her up without complaint, and, well. For Beast, that was something.]