Cristine walked through the door and slipped past the quizzically startled Troy. After getting an earful of Jake more so than his father he left the Big House pissed. What was done was done and he paid Madison's debt, rescued her daughter, and patrols were tightened for the Nation's attack. This was the second place he checked given his last conversation with Cristine, but the flash of those glowering eyes, sclera's streaked with a faint red and slightly disheveled appearance made him wonder what happened. Troy carefully watched Cristine move through the cabin to lit one of the lamps and the small light source seemed to be swallowed whole in the darkness. "The mission was successful, we saved Alicia." Troy propped his body against the wall and let everything sink in tonight, his eyes focused on Cristine. After she lit the lamp, she leaned against the edge of her medium sized table in the middle of the cabin, apparently listening to him. It was difficult to make out her face because of the small light, but Troy was so immersed in his debrief he didn't notice the mood of the room worsen with every passing minute. "We're back at square one, but at least it's on our terms again. Bodies dropped, but I'd say we're even again given that they were in the lead with that."
"..."
Tilting his head to the side and put off by Cristine's lack of response Troy finally pushed himself from the wall and walked closer. Her blurred face by the dark cleared up and with narrowed eyes his own face twisted into one of mock skepticism. "Thought you'd be happier to hear your friend is safe and sound."
"I got in an argument with Jake, a drunk Dolores, and my dad." Cristine her voice was hoarse, like she over-exerted her throat. Before Troy could ask, Cristine recited the events very briefly. "Jake's been angry ever since we began this war and for some reason thought I'd care more about keeping the peace. Dolores is paranoid about everything including my dad, cleaned up after her worthless ass and let her sleep her ruse off in the infirmary." While listening to the monotonous story, Troy had come closer and noted that Cristine's expression was remote. The second thing being that something was wrong, and his pupils stretched against the clear blue of his eyes; incandescent with ire the moment he saw it. And Troy saw it on her face as clear as day, blossoming as a purple black flower that stood out near at the edges of her right eye, imprint on her cheek and a uneven bump at the corner of her mouth. Troy his lips thinned and eyes turned beady, listening intently to the inscrutable woman retell the events. "To end this hectic night, I found out that my dad lied to me," Cristine's voice was a whisper and her mouth slackened. Bringing herself to say the truth aggravated her, apprehension at an all time high. She tried to stop her lip from quivering, voice steady in spite of the apprehension weighing down on her body. "The conversation didn't end well and after piecing it together, I confronted him. I needed to hear it from his mouth and I did." Cristine finally peered at Troy through unblinking eyes and said, "he told me what he did for you after you killed Mike and his family."
A stuttering beat of silence ensued and the awry expression on Troy's face gradually dropped and it dawned to him that the stone-cold look was aimed at him. That same guardedness from when Cristine arrived on the Ranch as the unwanted pariah. The stranger Troy and his men captured in the wasteland. It felt as if they were in opposite camps again, blind to each other as individuals and building barricades instead of bridges. Her gaze that tipped towards apathy startled Troy. He didn't recognize the Cristine standing across of him. No. Troy thought with a miniscule shake of his head, jaw slack until the bones underneath shifted from grinding his teeth silently together. How could this happen? That was not the look Troy wanted from Cristine. Not the reaction he needed from now that they declared war on the Nation. Not after all the progress they made. All the conversations they had. The plans they schemed. Sacrifices they made to maintain order and an example of how it all should be. The trust and vows of loyalty. The concern and care that didn't always make sense, but Troy never truly questioned them. They bonded and what happened in the cave- he took precautions before the mission so he could unearth that moment with Cristine again. Experience them again so that he could explore them.
A sheen glow perspiration coated her wrinkled up face with acidic heed. "You know I tried to make sense of it and I still can't wrap my head around it." The physical tears had dried up, but the betrayal formed a tearful ache inside. "That even for you- this was a line you wouldn't cross..."
"Not intentionally." Listening to his tempered explanation, Cristine straightened her body like a cynical cat. Her movements furtive. Her pointed glare sucked something out of the air. She never looked away, full focus on him, just him, never blinking. Her mind ran a mile to process everything Troy said extensively, "it was an accident." His eyebrows were quirked, as hesitance and what resembled anguish flooded his features. "It wasn't supposed to go like that. I should have followed your plan and taken you with me at least." Troy's confession was casual, like talking about messing up tomorrow's breakfast and not the cold-blooded murder of his best friend and his family. "That's what you want to hear right?"
Cristine didn't hear any remorse in his words. Her stomach dropped and the temperature in the room chilled. She really hoped this was a sick twist and her imagination simply ran wild. That she was a pessimist who looked at the worst possible in Troy. Given that things were fine between her and Troy, Cristine thought of mending everything with her father and Blake. But nothing was fine. Jake was angry with her choices, she couldn't trust her father, and now this with Troy. For Cristine, this was a new level of insanity. Murdering his best friend?! What did that make the people who didn't fall in that category? What did that truly make her? Cristine exhaled hard, face open shock at first that very quickly morphed into disbelief. Opening and closing with no sound leaving her mouth until the question did. "Would you even have told me?"
Troy moved his jaw, a movement that didn't mean much. He couldn't analyze Cristine or unravel the meaning of her disposition. She willfully shut him out and Troy tapped his fingertips on the side of his leg, his eyes probing before a breathless huff shocked his shoulders. His response reeked of disbelief, eyes pulsed and his voice sounded faraway, "not with the way you're looking at me right now." The roiling beast in the back of his skull stirred at the error of judgement. It seared, knowing no other way in which to interact. It finally found its acceptance and freedom in the Apocalypse within Troy. Extended its malignant darkness and violence necessary to function. It was confused by Cristine's response and anguish curled within Troy's being. She was rejecting him while they were forming this bond. "You know, I was sure as hell you would understand. After we won from them." His head moved from side to side, words casually accusing her, as if Cristine had done the worst thing imaginable with her reaction alone. Troy felt mislead.
Long, dark lashes fluttered infrequently over dark glowing eyes. The responses Troy elicited in her disturbing and painful. She swallowed those wrong feelings, because they weren't normal. Cristine lowered her chin and eyes when Troy quietly drew closer and stopped half an arm length away from her. Cristine exhaled sharply when cool fingers grazed against her bruising face and recoiled from the pulsing. "James is a coward," he stated. Witnessing his gesture logic punched her to put a stop to it and Cristine closed her hand around his wrist, pulling his hand off her face and to his side, where she broke contact.
"You're not the damn victim or hero here Troy. So stop playing games" There was an edge to her statement when Cristine looked at Troy, eyes raised. From the way his eyes, a dimmed dark blue by the lack of light, lingered on her, Troy was assessing her, but Cristine didn't flinch. "Why do you think I would understand this?" Cristine squeezed the sentence through bared teeth, nothing but a whirl of acrid taste in those concluding words. Just when she thought she build a new relationship it was torn apart in the span of a few days. Cristine didn't want to believe that Troy could keep this sickening lie up this long. The fact that he managed to twist it even now and distract her with business that wasn't his to pry only made it worse.
Opposite, Troy battled with rational and emotional thoughts alike. Convinced he established a true camaraderie again after his closest relations, blood and non-blood betrayed him. It was still budding, yes, but Cristine brought with her something familiar, unique and new Troy wasn't willing to let go because of a fluke. What she gave him was pragmatic and ruthless, but also fiercely loyal and understanding. It kept him on his toes. Troy often caught glimpses of more, but it was nowhere to be found right now and he didn't understand. Why did Cristine look differently at him when they were alive and fighting to keep it that away? That was their end game after all; survival. Troy never once looked at Cristine differently or batted an eye at the things she did or proposed for safety. "Because no matter what you think of me. You know what's at stake and it's how we've always worked. I didn't lie when I said you can trust me Cristine. I still trust you. I wouldn't have picked you to be here if I didn't. Hell I should've done that earlier.... that's one of my calls I would've changed, knowing what I know now."
"What does that have to do with what you did to the Trimbols?"
Troy repeated, "like I said, you know what's at risk here. You're not going to risk a cesspool of suspicion and doubt now if it means we'll survive."
Cristine felt her heart up the base of her throat. The impatient scoff that escaped her mouth was a shaky mixture that tipped at the edge of cracking anger. "That still doesn't explain why you didn't follow the fucking plan. Return when you knew you couldn't go through with it just get right with it."
"People were leaving and needed a reason to stay and in the end they did," Troy clarified. Something itching inside Cristine told her that wasn't Troy's reason, not really, but he'd convince himself that it was. His actions and words confirmed that Troy didn't care about others or their feelings. No, he did this for his own selfish entitlement and need of absolute control.
"By killing your best friend and his family? We had a plan," Cristine said coldly, bile stuck at the back of throat. She put a slither of faith this was a cruel figment of her imagination. That, in spite of a war raging, she had been doing well for herself, tried to fix most of her relationships and forming new ones, in particular with the man in front of her. But her father covered for Troy and he made it look like she was thee maniac for questioning him. Question him for a logical reason and to take ownership of his actions. Provide her with clear answers to straightforward questions. It wasn't just because of those self-deprecating blue irises, it was the intelligent indifference behind them that present her with the truth. Between their gaze a battle was fought and Troy overwhelmed Cristine without flinching. In that moment she knew that the man she thought she could figure out was nothing more than a betrayer of her trust. Her heart ached from embittered feelings, in particular remembering what happened in the cave not even a few hours ago. Their many conversations and moments. How she considered truly opening up without having to constantly raise her guard still and act on her feelings for once instead of rationale. Now, look what happened.
Troy saw hesitance and scrutinized Cristine's changing expression. Took note of how her eyes glossed when faced with the knowledge of his actions. Sighing, he finally explained, voice a low whisper, "Mike owed me. He needed to say it to my face." It was bad enough Troy was reminded of that night when mentioned. James and Madison didn't care anymore and Troy had come to see it as a necessary sacrifice. But he'd explain it to Cristine like he did to his accomplices. Troy confessed, "I went after them like I said I would. I needed to talk to him. We did- for a bit- kind of, but he said some pretty messed up stuff and I couldn't- it went bad." Troy shook his head and inhaled, the thought of his best and only friend leaving, of course Troy took it to heart when Mike betrayed on him. "I can't undo what I did and I should've come clean to you. I'll make it up to you." Troy voiced his error, but it wasn't because of a bad conscious of his deeds. He was already past that. It was more Troy's sense of being bound by his connection with Cristine. He owed it to her. Cristine stood in silence, gaze taking it's time to land on him in the dim light, but it eventually did. He stood there, piercing eyes staring back at her, face shifting anticipating her answer. "That's the truth." Cristine wasn't sure if Troy was referring to the situation with Mike or his messed up priorities of telling his version of the truth, but she felt sick even trying to process his selfish words. Troy was still making this about him and his 'hurt' feelings. He made it sound as if keeping this from her was worse than the actual deed of killing the Trimbols. As if coming clean now, after she confronted him would make things better.
"What do you want me to do?" Cristine swallowed, taking in a deep breath and exhaling more than once. "No, what do you want me to say? Oh, it was just a fuck up, don't worry about it? Thank you for your honesty? I will gladly pretend this never happened?" The brief flicker of his eyes darting away confirmed that he must've been hoping that and it made her sick to the gut. "So what happens now?" Cristine her face was cryptic. "Are you going to kill me next?" She sneered towards the end. Cristine couldn't help but want to flee out of pure instinct from this situation as fast as she could, but with Troy she had to put more thought into her words and actions. Especially when he was talking through his own insane logic.
"You know that's bullsh-"
She interjected, "or are we going back to the petty threats so you can keep me on a leash?" Cristine had too many questions, too many irregularities to be sure of her own or her family's safety near Troy. The fact that Troy hesitated now meant she was okay. But that could change. Just like he turned on his best friend, his parents, and Gretchen in a snap. What were their last moments when they realized they'd be murdered by the person who vowed to protect them? The person they knew for a lifetime. "If you can't answer me then get the hell out," Cristine ordered, voice calm and emotions nonexistent.
Troy opened his mouth, but he was at a loss for words. From head to toe, the uncertain air that covered his body was unnatural. He completely miscalculated the extent of Cristine's response. Anger and disappointment, yes, but not rejection this severe. To him, her response was too cutting for someone that barely knew the Trimbols. With the Apocalypse, Troy didn't see himself as a bad person and it bothered him that most did. And while they'd never said it out loud, his father and brother held those same beliefs. Cristine had never called him that after they became friends. Even when she often witnessed his dark side, but her indifference now visibly upset him. Troy rather have her yell at him, hit, and curse him to hell and back than this regulated apathy aimed at him. That was meant for the enemy and he wasn't her enemy. "No." The fact that she'd ignore him like this, didn't sit well with Troy. He shook his head, gaze locked onto Cristine as he tried to find the right words. "I rather you tell you're done with me now and I won't bother you anymore." Troy inhaled, but didn't blink, not wanting to miss any form of deceit. He couldn't believe Cristine would actually say something like that. They crossed lines, spilled blood, wash their hands and did it all over again. Without regrets or blame. So what the hell was this!?
Cristine's face remained the same, "don't act like a victim after you just murdered an innocent family, again. You don't get to do that and you don't get to hear me tell you shit. I said leave."
"Cristine just-"
"Get out!" Cristine yelled and began to push him out of her cabin. He could see the dew covering the whites of her eyes when she literally punched and clawed at his chest until Troy found himself in front of a slammed door. He took her rejection and anger to heart. It was bad enough Troy struggled with his self-control, but he and Cristine coexisted and worked like a team. But now because of this situation, she was pushing him away. Troy's face screamed collapse, but he kept himself together. It wasn't new. People quitting on him were always part of his life. Jake. Mike. His parents. Shrugging at the door as he didn't have the energy to kick it open. Troy put the events in retrospective. Wasn't it Cristine who said the people shouldn't follow the Trimbols' example? No one would now. They all wanted to fight. So the mission was complete. James, her father, asked him to lead and fight. So that's what Troy was going to do.
"These are war times Cristine and more will die. So if you're done with sentimentalities over people you barely knew and ready to do your part, you know where I'll be." Troy strained his ears to listen to the sounds, but there wasn't even a creak. If he wasn't inside just then, he'd mistaken the place as abandoned. Troy continued, "I admit it, I lost my cool, but I got shit done. No one is leaving, maybe for a long time, just like we planned. And I have a duty to protect and serve this place. I can't worry about this now. It complicates things... complicates the two of us." They were building for the future of the Ranch and needed to move from sentiment for the ones that would never survive. Away from guilt and morality. It was much easier and safer for the Ranch. Troy had people to lead and even more to save and protect. At least he had two who trusted him in a way Cristine didn't. Which meant that what he had done in that heated moment, albeit unintentionally, wasn't inherently wrong. The two that covered for him had everyone convinced this was the Nation's doing. And if it was for their victory, then the ends justified the means. That strengthened Troy and wiped out the last spark he had about overthinking Cristine's anger and betrayal. "Despite how this'll play out, just know all of this is meant to protect you too. You might not want to be around me, but after Mike you're- you're one of the few real friends I have left and I rather my friends not die. You're the first person I can truly be myself around. I don't feel like I have to hide or hold back and I- I'm grateful for that." It wasn't what she wanted to hear, but Troy wanted to say this out loud as it was his truth. He genuinely cared about this friendship. But with everything going on, he wouldn't lose any sleep if this relapsed back to the time when she first arrived. Troy simply hoped they could eventually move past this.
As always, I'd love to read everyone's thoughts and opinions about this. Was it what you guys expected? More angst? Less angst? Just enough?
I'm satisfied with how it turned out and hope I've done Troy justice and conveyed the feelings/emotions that I wanted to for the both of them. ;).