[insert witty disclaimer about not owning anything here]
Paige's thoughts in a sort of stream of consciousness style of writing. It takes place at the end of Smoke Alarm, right after Mike's confession to Paige. Basically, these are her thoughts, as conflicted as they are. Let me know what you think?
Rat
One foot in front of the other.
Move forward – not back. Do not look back.
Look back. Go back. Listen.
Don't.
Just go. Listen. That's it. That's all. That's all you have to do.
Don't.
You'll regret it if you don't.
Yes. You will; either way. Keep going.
Just keep going.
Deep breaths, in and out.
He'll be okay.
Not a chance in hell.
The doctor said.
The doctor is uninformed.
He survived this long on his own.
Except he wasn't alone.
Where it counts, he was.
But that wasn't his doing, wasn't his choice.
Then why did you leave? Why not let him speak?
He still did it.
Exactly.
But he told me.
No. He did not.
He tried.
And failed.
Which was my fault.
Was it?
I walked out. I left.
Because he couldn't.
He wouldn't have.
He would.
But it wasn't him. It was me. I left.
And?
He was trying to explain. Trying to tell me.
And failing. What were you supposed to do? Comfort him? Tell him that everything was going to be okay?
Yes. …. No.
No.
Still, it wasn't his fault.
His actions are his choice. His responsibility.
His hand was forced.
Was it? Do you know that?
No.
He made his bed. Now he has to lie in it.
It isn't that simple.
Isn't it though?
No.
But, it is. Actions have consequences. He knew that; he knows that. He knew what he was doing. He knew it would have consequences.
But he didn't like it.
Irrelevant.
It isn't.
It is. Maybe he didn't like it. Maybe he did. Either way, he did it. It is done. Liking it or not does not change that. Nothing does.
It doesn't change what he did, no. It changes the reason.
The reason? He had his orders. He carried them out. Nothing more.
Precisely. Orders.
And the cost? The effects of his actions? What of that?
It is what it is.
It didn't have to be. He earned trust; he used it. Then, he destroyed it. What about that?
He had to.
Does that make it any better? Do you feel better?
No.
What about how he feels?
What about it?
Doesn't that matter?
Now? No.
It should.
Before, you didn't know. You were worried about a friend. Now, you know. You know he wasn't a friend. Not then. How he feels now, about this, is his own doing. It is his fault. You do not have to feel anything about that.
He was a friend.
He lied. About everything.
Not everything.
Close enough.
No, it isn't.
It is.
You know what kind of person he is.
Yes, a liar.
People lie.
Obviously.
You've lied.
Not like that. Not like the way he did.
You have.
It was the job.
So was his.
It's different.
Is it?
Yes.
He was investigating a suspect too, you know. He was doing exactly what you do, what you all do.
But he was doing it to us.
No. To Briggs. He was doing it to Briggs.
He did it to us all. We were all there.
And that is what this is about, isn't it? If it wasn't, there wouldn't be a problem.
But it is, and there is.
And?
No one else knows. Not one.
True.
What about that?
What about it?
That shouldn't be on me.
It doesn't have to be.
It does. He told me. It is now.
Sometimes in Graceland it's good to have secrets. You said it.
I did.
Did you mean it?
I did.
Still?
Yes.
Well.
Sometimes is conditional. Sometimes it is; sometimes is isn't.
And which is this?
I don't know.
There it is. The end. For something like this, I think that time would be needed for a more complete understanding and resolution. As this the moments right after, there hasn't been the time, and as such an incomplete resolution.
Thoughts?
-Bex