gonna_live | (no subject)

(no subject)

On their way upstairs, Kaylee didn't even bother to request the key for their usual room. They were kind of in a hurry.

It is to be hoped for the sake of their current neighbors, if they had any, that the walls were soundproofed.

The show's over now, though, and Kaylee's feeling pretty deliciously lazy.

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Good. It gives her an opportunity.

Slowly, as though expecting to lose her balance, she stands.

"I was harsh with you just now." Her words are painstaking. "I'm sorry for that."

"No," he whispers, and his voice is hollow and empty. "No, you were right."

"...I was harsh," she repeats, a little more gently, and doesn't add I didn't say I wasn't right. "Will you come sit with me?"

After a moment he nods.

And comes closer, to stand by the edge of the bed.

Kaylee takes his hand; when he doesn't pull away, she sits.

"It bothers me a whole hell of a lot," she says, "that you'd -- go to him for talk about God. Like it's something I don't know nothin' about. That you'd trust him with it when you never trusted me with it. And when you make me feel stupid for havin' inclinations that way my own self. Is his faith better'n mine? Or do you just not trust me?"

He sits when she does, his eyes on the floor.

Slowly, over her last few words, he looks up.

"No," he says unsteadily, "neither of those. I didn't ..."

Kaylee waits.

"I was trying to talk to you about it."

It's hard to get the words out.

"Just now."

She only feels guilty for a moment.

Quiet: "That's a pretty funny way to go about it. Sayin' you'd rather go to service there."

Very low: "It was just a thought. I didn't mean ...

"I'm sorry."

"If I'm takin' you right."

There's a small tremor in her voice.

"And you're honest about -- being curious. What changed?"

"I don't know." Not much louder than a whisper. "Maybe nothing. It's not ... I don't have any intention of converting. I, I don't ..."

His gaze is back on the floor, a few inches from his feet.

"You said it yourself. I haven't suddenly learned how to believe in something."

She strokes the back of his hand with her thumb. "But you -- what, you want to get on speakin' terms with the man upstairs?"

Simon shakes his head.

"I tried that once."

He isn't aware he's said the words out loud.

Kaylee looks at him a little sharply -- but doesn't comment.

"If it's not about God," she says, slow, "then who's it about? Him? Her? You?"

"I want to understand why people believe."

It sounds, ironically enough, like a confession.

She lets out a breath.

Gently:

"You're not... there's not an easy answer that fits everybody like a glove. You know that, right?"

He nods. "I know. That's the, that's the whole point."

"...I don't understand." Even if he won't look up, she's still trying to see his expression, meet his eyes. "You want to ask him specific, but you know the answer won't help you much? Because it's not the only one?"

"Because it's not the only one. Because most of the time I tried not to think about it, with him or with anybody I knew, because I didn't understand it and I couldn't just dismiss it as --"

He breaks off, biting his lip hard.

There goes her temper again.

She closes her eyes, and makes herself take in a breath slowly.

Very quiet:

"Because you didn't like to think that you had the kind of friends who went in for mass hysteria. Because them bein' stupid reflects poorly on you."

No louder: "Because they weren't stupid. Or irrational, or ..."

His mouth twists. "Anything else that matched what I thought about religious belief. I suppose it was some amazing coincidence that everybody I knew personally was an exception."

Barely audible:

"I'm tryin' real hard not to be hurt right now. And I'm not doing a real good job at it."

"I'm sorry."

He looks up, trying to meet her eyes and almost making it.

"I'm trying to change."

"I have to take you at your word on that."

She's not looking at him.

"I -- okay. You're tryin' to change." Beat. "What can I do to help?"