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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Sept 11, 2009 11:00:36 GMT -5
OOC: Takes place while Krys is in the hospital for her suicide attempt. I'd say the day after.)) Matt walked around the hotel room in darkened silence. He was a naturally quiet man but the recent circumstances plus the surrounding environment only seemed to add to his aura. Head hung low it was apparent, even in the darkness that he hadn't shaved as usual as he once had. This was of course because of Krys' suicide attempt. When he recieved the call he had been in New York and nearly dropped the phone. He couldn't explain it, a wave of concern had just washed over him. Next thing he knew he was on an airplane to Virginia and in this hotel room.
He knew he should visit her. Go to the hospital because she'd want to see him (or some would claim) but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Matthew was a brave man, but right now, he was actually afraid. He didn't see the signs. He should have, he knew that, but he didn't. He just passed it off as post trauma, that she'd be back to the old Krys Robin in no time. The kind of Krys that'd come scampering down the hallways just to be in his every step like an eager puppy, hanging on his every word with bright brown eyes and a smile that usually was contagious no matter how much he tried to fight it. The kind of Krys that skated across the floor in her rolling chair for no reason in particular. The Krys that rambled off facts and practically tackled him every time he came back from a 'mission' because she had missed him. The Krys Robin that he always avoided touching as much as he could out of fear of 'hurting' her in some way given all that she had been through. The analyst that he had protected for nearly 6 long years... Until now. Now he had lapsed. He had failed.
Matt let out a heavy sigh that became caught in his throat and felt so very uncomfortable. His hands tried to shove themselves into his jean pockets out of lack of anything better to do. Krys used to make fun of him. Shoving her hands in her own pockets, or when she lacked her actual pants, and would sluggishly follow behind him like some sort of goofy clown until he glared at which point she would pretend like she hadn't done anything wrong. Sometimes at lunch she'd toss crumpled up napkins at him in a not so subtle hint to play while he had the time before he had to go back to the bull pen. All of the greetings over the phone when he was undercover: 'Hello, hello', 'Well, well, well if it isn't the resident hero', 'It sounds like you miss me Matty Boy!', or the ever popular 'Quick say something negative so I know this is the REAL Matt'. He had always liked that, more than he would have liked to admit.
Then there was her face during his shows. How absolutely excited she looked at the littlest of things. It was contagious. It even made him want to smile... Ocassionally. The way she bounced and looked up at you like you were the most important person in the entire world. Like a child might despite the fact that she was in her early twenties. She was one of a kind. Irreplacable. How could she try to get rid of something so unique? How dare she! And without asking him too! She always spoke to him about mostly everything! It was petty to think this way, he was aware, but still.. When you were hurt you thought strange things.
Dark eyes trailed to the dried blood that lingered behind from what she had done, staining the kitchen tiles where she had apparently been sitting when the BAU team found her. Apparently she had called. Why had she called? That didn't make much sense, then again when did she ever make sense? Matt's eyes were transfized on the spot for a long while until he couldn't bare to look at it anymore and soon found himself on his hands and knees with a wet cloth, running it over the spot repeatedly, slowly at first trying to clean it off. When the stain proved a bit more difficult Matthew got even more stressed and began to push his full body weight into it, gritting his teeth as he began to furiously wipe at it as if posessed.
All at once it came out. "DAMN IT!" And he found himself thrown back into a seated position, his hands up by his head, one holding the wet bloody cloth as he ran his hands through his hair cringing. He hated failing. He hated death. But most of all he hated being afraid mixed in with the both of those involving Krys. That was HIS Krys. His little buddy. His sidekick. His little girl. He would hate to admit it, but he loved the little girl like he loved his sister Tess, but it was different in a way too. Matt had always wanted to be a father but finding a spouse just wasn't in the cards so, perhaps accidentally, he made 'do' with what he had.
As much as Krys was dependent on him, he was just as needy of her. They had grown on one another, something that was apparent if anyone could see the pain in Matt's dark eyes.
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Post by Hayley "Chez" Chezaneski on Sept 11, 2009 21:52:26 GMT -5
Hayley Chezaneski In the arms of an Angel, fly away from here From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here Krys Robin had tried to kill herself.
On the surface, it was as plain and simple as that fact; but underneath, she knew different. Hayley knew that there'd been signs. There were always signs. Why hadn't they seen them? Had they seen them, and just not done anything about it? They were always so busy around the Counter Terrorism offices, they might have missed any sign she was throwing at them ...
The first one had been her brother Ryan. She hadn't been able to save him. Down in the basement, he'd died of the flu when her father had been unwilling to bring him to a hospital and give himself up to save him. She'd tried so hard, but he hadn't let her near him, and she'd failed to save her twin's life.
The second had been the federal agent whose name her mind had long since erased to protect her own sanity. When the two of them had burst out of the basement, running for their lives, her father had shot and killed him. The doctors hadn't been able to save him. She hadn't even been able to see him one last time. He'd been the one to give her the nickname.
The third had been her father. As her father had shot the man who had saved her, she'd taken his gun, and shot the father that had leveled his gun with her.
She couldn't help but feel as if people around her died at her hand. And now Krys had tried to kill herself, and Hayley hadn't seen the signs. Like her brother, like the agent ... like her father, could Chez have been able to do something different and save the lives of all those who had died? Countless victims whose cases she hadn't presented to Jack, others having taken precedent ... the deaths all fell on her shoulders.
And now Krys, she'd almost been the next. She could still be the next. She was in the hospital and for all Hayley could do, there was nothing that she could do. What could she do - ask the nurses for an extended time period, get information out of people, try to make phone calls? She was useless, for God's sake.
Chez had taken the first plane out to Virginia that she could. It had been the same plan that Matt had taken, but they'd barely spoken on the plane, each lost in their own world. On normal plane rides, they'd have been doing work, preparing for a case. Not on this one, on this plane, things were different.
She hadn't worked up the courage to go see Krys in the hospital yet. She'd spoken briefly with SAIC Aaron Hotchner to get the details straight, but that was the only contact that she'd had with anyone.
But finally, she'd decided to go to the hospital for Krys. First, though, she'd be heading to Krys' hotel room. She wanted to bring the analyst something from home. That was why she was headed up the elevator of the Quantico hotel, to the room where Krys had ... Hayley tried to shake the notions from her head.
She stopped at the door of the room, the key that she'd managed to get from the desk downstairs in her hand. She'd just unlocked the door as she heard a cry of "DAMN IT!" from inside the room.
The voice was familiar. Very familiar.
Matt.
She shoved open the door, letting it slam closed behind her. Entering the hotel room, she felt as if she were stepping into the twilight zone. She could feel what had happened here. What their unattentiveness had caused. Matt was sitting on the floor, his hands near his head, near Krys' blood, and Chez felt her heart break. It was easy to see the relationship between Krys and Matt. This wasn't fair to him.
"Matt?" She asked tentatively. She didn't want to disturb him, but she felt as if she were intruding. On the floor, she saw the signs of what had happened - and that Matt had been trying to clear it up. "Hey, i was headed to the hospital ... I stopped here first to pick something up for her." She wasn't used to sounding vulnerable or frightened, and she hoped in what was probably vain that she didn't sound too vulnerable. She was usually sound, secure, able to do any job, cool and collected, but Krys' attempt had broken something in her. [/size][/right]
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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Sept 12, 2009 1:33:04 GMT -5
Why? Why did she have to do that? They always spoke about things *first*. The two of them. Together! That's how it always was. He looked out for her, she teased him. He slugged in to work she'd poke her head out from behind the computer with a huge, knowing little smile watching him with bright brown eyes. Where were those eyes now? Where was she? In a hospital bed. She was stable, surprisingly nothing life threatening now that she had been tended to. According to Jack she was quiet. She didn't really speak to anyone, then again who could blame her?
Matt hadn't even visited her yet and already he knew that she favored laying on her side to avoid looking at people. He knew that she liked red jello and that red indeed could be considered a flavor in her book. He knew that she barely spoke but chose instead to listen. She had always been surprisingly good at that, even when she did have a tendency to ramble... Matt felt his fingers dig into his hair which was messy but short enough not to matter. Why?
In hearing the door slam he didn't even look up, he continued staring right at the damned dried blood that remained on the hotel kitchen floor tiles. Krys' voice ringing in his ears though distant. "They really gave me a nice set up. The hotel room has a kitchen. Never been in a hotel room before, let alone all by myself. It's big. Kind of intimidating. I don't need much space... Maybe next time I can just stay at a motel?" He had informed her that the FBI would never put her up in a motel unless she was in a mission, something the analyst just didn't grasp. It once made him chuckle.
"It won't wash off." Matt stated simply, lacking emotion, not even looking at Hayley. He ran another large hand through his hair. "I tried but the damn stuff won't come off." His voice was low, even pouty, obviously sadenned enough by such a stain but not allowing himself to go to tears over it though his body desperately wished to. "I scrubbed it for a good five minutes and the damn stuff won't come off." Grunting, still not looking to Hayley he moved to his feet walking directly to the side of the hotel room which made it obvious Matt knew enough about Krys to know where she kept important things.
"Anything in particular?" Matt poised lacking emotion, his back to his friend as he opened one of the hotel room drawers. If she was looking for something certain it might be with all of Krys' belongings.
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Post by Hayley "Chez" Chezaneski on Sept 12, 2009 12:45:17 GMT -5
"It won't wash off. I tried but the damn stuff won't come off. I scrubbed it for a good five minutes and the damn stuff won't come off."
"They've got people to do that, Matt." She said it bluntly, but her words nearly got choked off at the end ... There'd been so much blood on that carpet ... "They'll clean it, Hayley. You need to get to the ambulance." "It's his blood, its ..." The name, she couldn't remember, just that it needed to be washed away, like the past three years. Make it all leave, all the blood on the hotel lobby floor, her fathers, his, and it wouldn't leave. With a gasp, she shook herself out of the memories that she didn't want, only realizing that she'd made an outward signal of what was inside after it had happened. Pull yourself together."Bleach." She said suddenly, stepping around him, around the blood, and into the kitchen. "That's what gets blood out. Bleach."
Hayley began to absently open cabinet doors and close them just as quickly as she'd opened them, not finding what she needed - but not truly looking, anyway. She was vaguely aware that Matt had gotten up and moved out of the room, but she kept slamming the cabinets as if it would fix the situation, that by opening and closing doors she'd somehow close the door on this part of Krys' life, and make it all go away for her. She couldn't fix it. Why couldn't she fix it?
There'd been a time, before all this had happened, that Hayley would sit in the woman's 'lair' while the team were on missions that neither Chez or Krys were leaving the bullpen for. Krys' office was how Hayley had attempted to get herself over her fear of enclosed spaces, even if the technical analyst hadn't known it. That was what it was about Krys - she hadn't done a thing wrong in this world. Why was it her who got hurt? Why her, when Hayley would have so easily taken her place and been alright with it? Why?!
Why hadn't they seen the signs?
Why hadn't they been able to stop it?
Why hadn't SHE been able to stop it? To stop all of the deaths that happened around her? That was why she was in this job, for God's sake, and now another person had nearly died, and she hadn't SEEN the signs to stop it!
"Anything in particular?"
"This is so stupid!" Before she even knew what in the world she was doing, the media liaison had kicked the cabinet door with a sneakered foot, barely noticing the fact that she'd probably sprained her toe. "We're supposed to be smart and we didn't even see the signs?!" She knew how her eyes looked - she was the one who was cool and collected, not the one with a crazy, panicked, frightened look in her eyes. She was the one who had sarcastic things to say, who hid behind that wall, not peeked her head over it as if to say 'hey, look, i'm this weak insecure being who can't save anyone's life for a pile of beans.'
But at that moment, she didn't care.
"She's our friend - what were we doing that we didn't notice, Matt? Are we that oblivious?" She finally noticed that there were tears dripping down her face, and she was standing with her hands by her side, facing the area where Matt was standing. "She's hurting. And now she probably thinks we don't care." Her voice was quieter, and she was suddenly spent. Hayley backed up against the cabinet and sank to the floor. Just as quickly as it had come down, her wall was back up again.
"I think I sprained my toe."
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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Sept 12, 2009 15:20:39 GMT -5
Matt's hands glazed over the contents of the drawer. A cheap bouncy ball, a koosh ball, some of those cheap finger puppets you win at arcades. She collected them, he knew that. His hands then found a few pictures, picking them up he studied the faces and almost instantly felt more guilty. One day Tess had visited CT and snuck around taking pictures, one of her hobbies, here were some of the results. Krys poking her brown eyes out from behind her computer monitor. Matt with wide eyes with Krys' arms wrapped around his waist. Hayley being yanked in to one. Really there were quite a few and Krys it seemed liked them and had saved them.
In hearing Hayley's ruckus behind him he turned around, though he was still grasping the photos between his fingers. His dark eyes were stunned for a moment. There was nothing he could say to better the situation. In fact, he had no idea what would be alright to say given the circumstances. In fact, usually he'd rather just stay quiet as he was a soft spoken man. But today things were turned upside down and that meant going a little outside the 'norm'.
It was at Hayley's comment about not seeing the signs that Matt felt something rise up within him and his voice came out in a ferocious growl. "Are you saying I didn't care?! Are you saying a neglected her? Don't even start Hayley, I gave that girl every ounce that I could!" He stormed right toward her, glaring, his face turning red. Obviously he was unfairly taking his anger out on her only because he was mad at himself for 'failing' the little analyst. "I gave her every ounce I had and then some!" He just couldn't understand. Why would she do this? Why? He felt a bit betrayed by it all. "I tried my hardest!" His accent made a blatant appearance before he found that he was accidentally holding the photos up.
Swallowing he lowered his arms slowly before noticing the tears on Hayley's face and of course, he had absolutely no idea what to do about them either. Not like it mattered, she had slunk to the floor anyways in an attempt to avoid his rude confrontation. He roughly tossed the photos on the counter before grasping the edge with his hands, giving it a squeeze.
"She's hurting." Slowly a sigh left his lips and he momentarily closed his eyes. "So she's hurting and the next thing her little bright brain thinks to do is off herself and hurt us. Right." He was mad, he was bitter, but not at Krys. Not really. Just at himself. "Fuck her." Even he knew that was unfair.
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Post by Hayley "Chez" Chezaneski on Sept 12, 2009 19:54:57 GMT -5
Hayley Chezaneski Chez tucked her knees to her chest and rested her elbows on them, her hands grasping her hair. "I didn't say you didn't care - for God's sake, Matt!" Her head was fallen atop her knees and her arms wrapped themselves around her shins. She'd made herself small, she realized, against the sudden attack Matt had thrown at her. It was nearly subconscious, after all these years - she'd managed to hide that fear for so long, and suddenly there it was, showing it's face. At the same time, she talked strongly - even though she felt small and vulnerable and scared - something she'd been good at for most of her life. If nothing else, she'd always had her voice. "I said that's what she thought! And I didn't say just you, either! I said we! The team, Matt! She was hurt and ... and nothing we did! She did it anyway." She was vaguely aware of the fact that she was shaking. He was close to her, too close - she'd dealt with people being in her face during the job, but not many had been this violently angry while doing so. Scenes from those three years flashed through her mind - shouting, pain ... "Don't say that about her! It's not the truth and you know it." The sentence was a statement. Krys was the sunshine of their group. She was the person nobody could stay mad at for more then ten seconds. It was impossibble not to like the girl, her random moments, her fact spouting ... Hayley was crying again, silently. "Shit, Matt. Why couldn't we stop her?"[/size]
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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Sept 12, 2009 20:14:22 GMT -5
His fingers clenched the countertop edge, taking deep breaths in an attempt to control his temper which wished so badly to go off the deep end. He just couldn't take it. He wanted to yell. He wanted to scream. He wanted someone to blame even though he blamed himself. They had failed her. He had failed her and now she was in the hospial. She had almost died. And knowing her it probably barely even registered that people were worried. Matt was worried. Hell, he was scared.
"I don't know." He admitted lowly, barely audible as his dark eyes searched the countertop as if looking for an answer there. He felt bad for yelling at Hayley sure, incredibly guilty in fact but he just couldn't help it. He also couldn't find it in himself to apologize. Not now. Usually he would have. Heck most of the time he would have avoided Hayley's beautiful gaze constantly but now he was far too wrapped up in what had happened and his own woes.
"What does she want from me?" His eyes darted from the left to the right becoming overwhelmed and he slapped his hands against the counter before stepping back, still not looking to his coworker. His hands moved through his dark brown hair, what was left of it anyways. "What the hell did she expect? We looked out for her.. We checked on her... We made sure she was alright.. We asked her.. For god sakes Hayley.. We *asked* her." Now he turned to look at hurt with surprisingly large eyes that couldn't comprehend. Eyes that held so much pain which seemed on the verge of breaking which he was fighting which is partially why he didn't even realize she was crying.
"I gave her everything I could..." He swallowed his voice, barely audible. He felt like he might get sick. "I tried my best..." Shaking his head again he hit the counter with his left hand before hurriedly striding to the opposite end of the hotel room and leaning his forehead against the wall, closing his eyes tightly and that's when he felt the wetness stinging his eyes behind his eyelids. Oh god... Was he crying? No. It couldn't be.
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Post by Hayley "Chez" Chezaneski on Sept 12, 2009 21:21:32 GMT -5
She was still in her tucked up position against the counter, the blood stain in front of her. She hated it, that sign of what had happened - she wanted it gone, just like Matt had. She wanted it to be invisible. She wanted to rewind the world and make it go away, make herself be better than she had before.
Ultimately, she wanted to stop Krys from ever having done what she'd done.
"I don't think she wanted anything." She picked her head up to find he'd moved to the opposite end of the room, his back to her, his head leaning against the wall. "She was scared. She went through hell. We saved her right before she died." It was possible that after Krys and Jack and Lily, only Hayley knew what real hell she'd gone through down in that basement.
She let out a shuddering sigh and rubbed the heel of her palm across her eyes. It came away wet. She never cried in front of people - she'd learned a long time ago that it got her no where.
"I don't know, Matt. Maybe we couldn't do anything about it. I'm not that smart, alright? I'm not a profiler like Reid or Hotch. I'm useless when it comes to this shit." She knew that it wasn't exactly true - her main job requirement was dealing with people. She dealt with people more than anyone else on the team. But dealing with this - death, a friend's depression ... she didn't know what to do.
"I know that you gave her everything, Matt. We all did - why wasn't it enough?" Her voice was pure suffering. Why was it never enough? Why had she never been able to save anyone she loved?
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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Sept 12, 2009 21:36:43 GMT -5
His eyes hurt. They felt like they were straining despite the fact that his eyelids had been closed. The wetness in them stung and he absolutely despised it. With a rough sort of snort he wiped at his face briskly with his upper arm before forcably pushing himself away from the wall. He had every intention of just walking out, his legs hurried their stride toward the door until his eyes caught glimpse of something on the floor that made him freeze in his footsteps.
The guitar pick necklace. The one he had specially made for Krys. The one that had a match around his own neck which now hung low and in vision. The one his sister Jill had given him, out in the open. Suddenly it felt a hundred times heavier around his neck, even as he squated down to pick up Krys' necklace gently holding it in his rough hand as he rose back up, still in silence for a long while before anger swelled up within him and he found himself in a rage once more.
"God Damnit!" It was strange to hear the way he was yelling as Matt usually as a grumbling, mumbling sort of guy preferring to keep his head low despite his good work. Get the job done and rarely say a word unless provoked, but currently he was going off to ridiculous heights and volumes because of how genuinely upset and at fault he felt. His fingers wrapped tightly around the necklace but not enough to break it no matter how much he *thought* he wished to.
"What the hell was she thinking? What could she have been thinking?" Spinning around he looked right at Hayley, he could barely see her from his current rush of anger and the tears stinging his eyes which were yet to fall. He wouldn't let them. "We go through all the god damn trouble to find her and she goes and fucks it up! The kid fucks it up!" It wasn't fair and he knew it, but right now the agent just needed someone to blame... And some place to throw the damn necklace. "She's always fucking things up!"
Without warning he gave a grunt and with a rough grunt he chucked it right at the wall, sending the piece flying with a quiet click and then silence. His breath caused his shoulders to rise and fall with such empathy and height that he looked as though he had run a marathon. Matt just stared out at the wall, rather blankly, away from Hayley. "She can rot for all I care." Bitterness, and unfair at that. What Matt needed was a good smack.
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Post by Hayley "Chez" Chezaneski on Sept 13, 2009 22:00:22 GMT -5
She was aware that she looked small and insignificant and that it was everything she'd tried not to be all of her life. Why had this situation resolved her to this again? To being the part of her that wasn't strong? She hated that it was so easy.
Hayley's throat hurt from trying not to cry, her head hurt from crying, and her toe hurt from spraining it. The tears had finally stopped falling down her face after she'd taken deep gulps of air, forcing herself to stop this absurdness.
She started at his sudden shrieked "God damnit!", and shreiked in anger, which only shocked her even more. She slammed her fist against the cabinet behind her, finding that her heart was racing. Her team had never seen her scream - except once or twice at people who were on the other end of the phone or who'd gotten in her face, and even then she'd only raised her voice - but they'd never heard her shreik in something like she'd just done - full of pain and anger and fear.
She hit the floor with her fist and was sure that she'd have a bruise on the side of her hand . "She was feeling scared, Matt. She was feeling scared and worried and alone, and no amount of care from us was going to make any difference because she's the only one in the place where she is! She's the only one in her place right now and nothing - not you or not me or not anyone - is going to change that! I know that!"
Krys' place right now was fear. Krys' place was aloneness, feeling like nobody cared no matter what they did. Their sunshine, the thing that held everyone together - was broken, and whatever they did wasn't going to change it. This was a place that only she could visit.
Hayley would know. Her place had been just as dark. Her place had been fear and lonliness and abandonment, but she'd locked that place away a long time ago and promised not to visit, though she was feeling dangerously close to it at the moment. Krys' had been brought to the forefront.
At Matt's harsh words about Krys, anger flared in her. She pushed against the counter and stood, heat flaring in her green eyes. "Matt! That's no where near fair and you god damn know it."
ooc// Sorry that sucked, I had to go to bed and ... yeah, sorry.
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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Sept 14, 2009 15:12:30 GMT -5
"Matt! That's no where near fair and you god damn know it."
"And how isn't it fair?! Huh?!" An equal heat found its way to Matt's own eyes. He was just so damned angry. Not at Halyey of course but the bottom line she was the one in the room dealing with the brunt of his words and accusations. Sure Matt unfairly blamed himself for what had happened to Krys, but currently he was going about it the wrong way. "Nothing she did was exactly fair to us!" Yes Krys was hurting, but since when did hurt translate to offing yourself? She was supposed to be smart!
"We gave that girl everything! I gave that girl everything!" He was yelling and he probably could be heard right through the hotel walls. It wasn't like he cared, he kept his tyrade of bitterness going. "I looked out for her! I always checked up on her! I care..." He cut his words right off. It was obvious he did care about the analyst, but those were things best left unspoken. It was best to keep a sense of mystery he found. It was best that everyone was left in the dark about his personal life and who he cared about: like Tess, Hayley, and Krys.
Suddenly, flabberghasted, he shook his head, his dark eyes darting to the floor he gave the wetness a rub with his upper arm. It was pretty embarassing to be standing in front of someone he respected and even, dare he say it, liked and shedding a tear... Or at least threatening to. His best pal Jack often lightly teased him about how he had feelings for Hayley. Matt wasn't so sure. He had once liked Kara but it was because of the appeal of not being able to have her. She was gaga over Jack and just plain young. It was a fleeting crush and besides, she seemed more into his best friend than himself. Maybe that was the case with Hayley too. They were just friends afterall... Weren't they? Ugh! Why was he dwelling on this now, defensively he went right back into his 'assault'.
"Damnit Hayley! We all get scared." He was so wrapped up he wasn't even thinking about what he was saying. "Everyone does but we don't go killing ourselves every single time!" His throat hurt from how he was yelling and the strain to not cry, which he was slowly losing. "Nobody does that. Robin is smarter than that! She is damn smarter than that..." His voice cracked and he could barely look at her through his own tears.
He made himself swallow and now his voice came out soft, a meak squeak that was so unlike him. He was in pain as he stood there alone, helpless. "She's my girl Hayley.." A sniffle and he thought that he just couldn't take it anymore and finally he looked away, crying to no one in particular. Honestly, he wouldn't blame her if she got up and left.
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Post by Hayley "Chez" Chezaneski on Sept 15, 2009 20:47:54 GMT -5
"Matt..." Hayley shook her head. "It's not fair to us? It's not fair to her. I know ... " Whatever she had been about to say was cut off, and she continued again at a new point. "I know you're hurt too. She hurt all of us by ..." She swallowed. "She hurt all of us, Matt. She wasn't right in what she did. It doesn't make sense ... to us." To her, though, to Krys, the girl who was always the sunshine and comedic relief, it had made sense, and Hayley only could fathom why. Surely, the media liaison had more of a knowledge of what the younger girl had been feeling, but that place had been completly her own - her own reasons were only of sense to her, and whether or not she was going to reveal them were up to her.
"I gave that girl everything ... I care ..."
"I know you do." Her voice was quiet. "We all do. She's Krys, for God's sake."
"We all get scared ..." Hayley repeated his words, quietly at first, and then again, louder. "We all get scared, Matt ... you don't know what her kind of scared is. Her kind of scared is something that nobody else knows but Jack and he's too young to understand that!" Nobody else had been where that kid had been, nobody else - didn't Matt understand that? She knew that he was feeling hurt and betrayed by Krys; they all were - they would have helped her! But he had to understand that the young technical analyst wasn't in a place where anybody could reach her through normal means, and that's why she'd done what she'd done. She'd been completly alone, even if she was surrounded by others.
Hayley knew that all too well - how she'd survived those years were solely because she knew that other people had died for her - and she'd had to make her life worthwhile because of that.
"She's my girl, Hayley ..."
There was something so absoloutly broken in his voice that it scared her. It was something so broken, so pained, something that she'd never heard before. Of course, the liaison knew just how much Matt cared for Krys - she knew some of what Krys had gone through with her father, and the rest she'd inferred from watching her, and her relationship with Matt was so daughter like that it was touching - but it was at that moment that she realized just how much Matt cared for Krys, too. How much he'd be broken if their youngest agent had succeeded in what she'd tried to do.
And Hayley did get up, but it wasn't too leave. She didn't really know what she was doing - in fact, she thought that she just might be crazy. She didn't go close to guys. It was fundamental for her. It was drilled into her brain. They hurt her. They would hurt her like her father had. They would leave her...
but it was that pain in his voice that overrode whatever else was drilled into her very being. "Oh, Matt.." And she reached forward, and touched his arm.
The first time she'd initiated contact with any man since she was twelve.
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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Sept 15, 2009 22:39:29 GMT -5
Matt stared into nothingness, his shoulders jerking as he had now been given into pathetic sobs. He just couldn't handle it. Krys. The little 16 year old he had saved years ago had tried to kill herself, like her life meant nothing. Hadn't he taken care of her enough? Hadn't he kept her out of trouble? Had he done a shotty job? He always kept an eye out for her, why did the one time he looked away have to be the time that mattered? He had failed her and now the constant reminder of his failure was his tears which he could no longer hold back.
It was the light touch on his arm that dragged him right back into the world which he could now only see through blurred eyes, and without thinking he wrapped his arms around Hayley and burried his face in her shoulder. He looked like a blubbering idiot the way he was crying. He looked weak but right now he didn't have the time to worry. Right now he just hurt and wanted it to go away. He had no idea if it might spook or disgust Hayley. He just wasn't thinking. He couldn't even form thought!
"Oh god." His fingers clutched at the fabric on her back as he cringed, pulling her close with tightly grasped, yet shaking hands. "Why would she do a thing like that?" He asked her, of course she didn't know the answer but still the words blurted out all the same. Matt was desperate, he needed some sort of tangible reasoning as to why his little Krys Robin would choose such a dramatic action. She went to such lengths to make people laugh, not cry. It just didn't make sense.
Slowly he managed to pull his face away though his large, rough hands grasped at Hayley's arms. Red eyes from crying stared right into hers, the tip of his nose was even red from sobbing. He looked a pathetic sight the poor country man that he was. And suddenly, in the silence, he felt himself posessed by the strange urge to close the gap between them. He looked dazed, not acting on these instincts however. They were feelings of wanting not to hurt, and he didn't want to drag Hayley into anything foolish.
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Post by Hayley "Chez" Chezaneski on Sept 16, 2009 23:06:21 GMT -5
It happened so quickly - she barely had time to react. It had been the first time she'd come so close to a guy since she was twelve, and suddenly she was closer to him than she'd expected. Matt had pulled her into his arms, clutching at the back of her shirt. She felt the muscles in her back tighten and untighten, a familiar response; her body went rigid. It could have been anyone who'd grabbed onto her like Matt just had - she would have reacted the same. If she were being honest with herself, if it had been someone else - someone unfamiliar, someone who wasn't Matt, she'd probably have reacted much, much worse. Since it was Matt, she let him - she was frightened, shocked, but she didn't pull away. The surprise of the entire situation played into her hand as well; she didn't have time to react. If she'd had, she probably would have been in the corner. The fact that he was hurting, that she was hurting, the situation, all of it stopped her from backing away and sitting in the corner of the room shaking, much like she had in the past.
"I want her back."
Familiar feelings of post traumatic stress disorder that she'd thought she'd banished long ago re-entered her head; her legs shook.
"Matt..." Her brain didn't work to answer his question; she was fighting an instictive reaction. She felt his shoulders shake - he was crying, and Matt never cried. She felt a tear hit her shoulder and her throat tightened painfully. It was then that she realized she was crying too - her tears were silent and her shoulders didn't shake. If nobody looked at her face, it would be impossible to tell - a defensive mechanism from her past. The gravity of the situation hit her - Krys had been kidnapped. She - they - hadn't been able to stop the after affects of that from nearly ending her life.
She felt as if life was ending.
Almost as soon as he'd grabbed onto her, he'd pulled away, holding onto her arms still. He was staring at her intently, and she swallowed convulsivly.
Her eyes were wild.
Her knees were weak.
It wasn't this that was scary. It was what it reminded her of.
"You killed him, Dad! You killed him!" Twelve year old Hayley had picked up the closest object in that basement, and hurled it at him. It bounced harmlessly off of him. "Nothing can bring him back - not your damn schizofrenia, he's not really here! You can't bring him back!"
"Don't talk to me like that - I loved your brother!" Her father took hold of her arms, shaking her back and forth. "I'll bring him back to us. Don't you doubt that!" The crazy man shouted, the crazy man who she'd once recognized as her father, the crazy man who'd now killed four woman.
The next day, he kidnapped a federal agent under the delusion that he was her brother.
"Matt, I-" She tried to regain control of herself. There was that part of her, that weak vulnerable child, and it was out in the open. How simple it had been to have it reappear. [/b] [/size]
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Post by Matthew Grimaldi on Sept 18, 2009 22:34:03 GMT -5
His throat went dry and he felt his face lean forward the slightest bit. What was drawing him closer he had no idea. With tear stained dark eyes he certainly couldn't see if it was a tangible thing, if it was something that he could actually touch, and in his own muted feelings from crying and being so darned upset he couldn't even tell if it was an actual, real feeling. All he knew was that he wanted to feel better, that he wanted to forget and maybe that Hayley held the key. Heck, he wasn't even quite sure what he was doing now...
"Hayley..." He started again, his voice quiet, even gentle, for once seeming hesitant and unsure of what he wanted to say and yet his eyes were accomidating and just as gentle. "I..." And at the last moment he decided against it. Perhaps it was for the best and it had been brought on by Hayley's own soft, shakey voice. Being taken over with care and worry over his friend he took a step back, deciding that her own nervousness had been his fault because, afterall, she was alone with him and he was touching her. And so, he took a step backwards thus releasing her.
"I-I'm sorry." He grunted shyly, looking to the floor with a mumble and rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't mean.... I was just..." God, nothing he could say in this situation would make it any better so he decided that it'd be best just to leave. Leave Hayley, leave this room, maybe if he called on his cell he could get a ticket back to New York City that evening. He wouldn't have to see Krys which was his main concern and he wouldn't have to deal with anyone. Perhaps isolation was the best thing.
Pulling at his sleeves he made his determined way toward the door, digging into his pants pocket for his cellphone, dialing with shakey fingers.
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