who: helena and others! what: variety catchall for the month. when: end of july/ all of august. where: across the boat. warnings: likely discussions of death.
Darcy doesn't make it easy to avoid misunderstanding, in Ava's experience. But Helena is a better communicator than her. Sweeter and gentler. So she imagines she has more luck, gets the benefit of the doubt.
"I think it's best to not know what you're doing," Ava claims cheerfully, as somebody who came onto the ship with no experience with even friendship much less anything romantic. "It's more natural, isn't it. Fumbling your way through without cheat codes."
"Mn, no not that sort of cheat. Like... a shortcut or secret formula. That bypasses the typical resistance you might face," Ava suggests. "Like if you know certain psychological tactics to get what you want out of a person?" Then it just sounds manipulative. Rather than a genuine building of a relationship.
But even so, it seems wrong to do that to someone else.
"Fumbling through is exactly how it feels, though. Awkward and strange and like I'm not sure where I'm supposed to step, how I'm supposed to act. It..."
Taking a breath, she sets her cup on the table.
"No, if I keep going down that path, I'll be horribly selfish and dump a confusing mess in your lap."
"Helena, you've always let me be as messy as possible," she reminds. "And never once made me feel bad for it. Even if you haven't allowed me to get away with... self-defeat. It's not selfish to want to talk it through. If you need."
"...it's almost silly to bring it up, though. Since I know it's not...no one would hold me to it here."
She protests to get it out of her system, but ends up leaning back further into the couch.
"But where I came from...I wasn't ever encouraged to think about things like relationships. Girls like me weren't supposed to. It was expected that I'd live my life on my own in that sense - not to flirt, not to court, marriage unthinkable. After all, a blind woman could never be a proper partner."
She couldn't take care of a house, a spouse, or children, so it was thought. So better to not think about anything she couldn't have at all, to not let any creeping sprouts of affection grow so that the absence wouldn't be as painful. Here, she knows it's not true - for god's sake, her roommate is a prime example of that - but some of the ghosts still want to dig into her shoulders like her tutor's nails.
A sad glance down as Helena talks, because so many of those words could have been her own. "It's not silly," Ava insists softly. "But. I do know what that's like, to grow up hearing how I'm not fit for the world, unable to experience all the things normal people got to have... it damaged us in a lot of ways, made us feel unlovable. Broken. I convinced myself that it was all stupid anyway, as a defense mechanism." And she knows they've brushed upon this topic before.
"You're right, Darcy wouldn't hold you to such a thing. But like our conditions, we have to overcome the limitations that others set upon us too. They're far more debilitating. But god, it feels so good to prove them wrong."
"It makes me scared," she admits quietly, hands folding in her lap. "What if I just end up proving them right?"
If she messes this up, and proves she should have never messed with it. If she winds up useless, unable to help, needing constant aid and constant pity. If she just drags her down.
(In a way, she worries this about her other close ones as well. If they'll ever get tired of her, if she needs too much from them.)
"No, Helena," she disagrees softly with that line of thinking. Because she's caught herself in it so many times. "You have the right to struggle and mess up the same as everyone else, to take chances and learn from them. My first relationship didn't work out. Neither did Darcy's. They were insistent on becoming a nun right before you two got together." Though she has no idea if Darcy shared such plans with Helena.
"It's not indicative of failure on anyone's part. Sometimes you can do everything right but it's... it's not always going to work out. Because we're all weird and complicated."
"But if I mess up here, it means I'm hurting someone I care about. I don't...I don't want to be the cause of their grief."
Every worry, neatly arranged into lines, like so much braille on a page. That's why she has to be slow. That's why she has to get this right. No painful steps. No one in tears.
It doesn't help, hearing Darcy's resolution to become a nun. If she hurts them, then they might just withdraw forever from the world.
"That's... I'm afraid I don't know exactly how to resolve that feeling. I've always been afraid of failing to protect Fio, or being a bad influence on her. Or that I might disappoint Skulduggery and lose his trust. That I've disgusted Darcy one too many times. That I'll compromise Peter to a point neither of us can come back from. That my good intentions will backfire and hurt the Captain. I'm afraid now, that my advice to you won't be good enough, that there's words somebody more experienced in these things would be able to give you. But... eventually I realized that. Those aren't the reasons any of you care about me, you know? That it's not conditional upon me being perfect, that the echoes of the past aren't the voices of the people that matter to me. That's who you need to listen to."
She's quiet, as Ava speaks. And then remains quiet, because there's nothing that she can say in response. Can't agree wholeheartedly, because that's Ava. Ava's strong, and smart, and kind - she's so many wonderful things, and she's them in a way that Helena isn't. Can't disagree, because it would just hurt Ava to know how much they can't be accepted - it's not her, it's the gaps in Helena, feeling like gouges in a brick wall, missing a substance they should have had, large enough to put her hand through.
"We like you for yourself, Ava. Whatever you do."
That's the best response she can give, right now. Unaware that she's holding her posture as carefully as if someone had a razor blade on her throat, not budging an inch. She's so very good at sitting still. It's a talent.
Helena thinks she's sparing Ava what she truly feels, but the thing is. Ava's been on her side of it. Can guess well enough what her silence indicates. And there's no frustration to it. She can't allow herself, when the roles have been reversed and she's allowed Helena to give her reassurance. When she's been on the receiving end of Skulduggery's repeated attempts at pulling her out of her self-sabotaging slumps.
He didn't give up on her, no matter how many times she backslid. And she doesn't plan on giving up on Helena either. But it's a slow process, nothing that Ava can rush. Just small reminders of Helena's value until she can finally see it herself.
"And we care for you too, Helena. Even when we don't feel our best, we're still worth loving. You all taught me that."
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"I think it's best to not know what you're doing," Ava claims cheerfully, as somebody who came onto the ship with no experience with even friendship much less anything romantic. "It's more natural, isn't it. Fumbling your way through without cheat codes."
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She's from before video games, Ava.
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But even so, it seems wrong to do that to someone else.
"Fumbling through is exactly how it feels, though. Awkward and strange and like I'm not sure where I'm supposed to step, how I'm supposed to act. It..."
Taking a breath, she sets her cup on the table.
"No, if I keep going down that path, I'll be horribly selfish and dump a confusing mess in your lap."
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cw: historical ableism
She protests to get it out of her system, but ends up leaning back further into the couch.
"But where I came from...I wasn't ever encouraged to think about things like relationships. Girls like me weren't supposed to. It was expected that I'd live my life on my own in that sense - not to flirt, not to court, marriage unthinkable. After all, a blind woman could never be a proper partner."
She couldn't take care of a house, a spouse, or children, so it was thought. So better to not think about anything she couldn't have at all, to not let any creeping sprouts of affection grow so that the absence wouldn't be as painful. Here, she knows it's not true - for god's sake, her roommate is a prime example of that - but some of the ghosts still want to dig into her shoulders like her tutor's nails.
Re: cw: historical ableism
"You're right, Darcy wouldn't hold you to such a thing. But like our conditions, we have to overcome the limitations that others set upon us too. They're far more debilitating. But god, it feels so good to prove them wrong."
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If she messes this up, and proves she should have never messed with it. If she winds up useless, unable to help, needing constant aid and constant pity. If she just drags her down.
(In a way, she worries this about her other close ones as well. If they'll ever get tired of her, if she needs too much from them.)
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"It's not indicative of failure on anyone's part. Sometimes you can do everything right but it's... it's not always going to work out. Because we're all weird and complicated."
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Every worry, neatly arranged into lines, like so much braille on a page. That's why she has to be slow. That's why she has to get this right. No painful steps. No one in tears.
It doesn't help, hearing Darcy's resolution to become a nun. If she hurts them, then they might just withdraw forever from the world.
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"We like you for yourself, Ava. Whatever you do."
That's the best response she can give, right now. Unaware that she's holding her posture as carefully as if someone had a razor blade on her throat, not budging an inch. She's so very good at sitting still. It's a talent.
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He didn't give up on her, no matter how many times she backslid. And she doesn't plan on giving up on Helena either. But it's a slow process, nothing that Ava can rush. Just small reminders of Helena's value until she can finally see it herself.
"And we care for you too, Helena. Even when we don't feel our best, we're still worth loving. You all taught me that."