Atonement

By Seniya

Questions

Mary had a lamb.
His eyes black as coals.
If we play very quiet, my lamb,
Mary never has to know.


Lose Control by Evanescence

When?

Will couldn't really pinpoint the creation of all of this. There was no real moment when she'd realized anything, actually…the beginning of all this, if she was made to think on it, had to be the beginning of them. Not he and her, them…but he and she, them. You understand right? Her and she…well they're like you and me. Different…good.

SHE, you see there's always a she, prototypical in fact, so long as there's a him, as long as there's a her. The she in this case was particularly daunting, because the she was about seven feet tall with legs that seemed everlasting—she also possessed this supernatural ability to appear as though she'd been professionally airbrushed, walking through Main street as though she had a team of foreign make-up artists at her beck and call; as well as…simply put other physical attributes that left one her felling particularly put out.

Not to mention that the her and this she are actually friends…fairly good friends in fact…not so much in the hair braiding, toe-nailing painting sense that we all crave but in the hey, we've saved the world together kind of way.

It's a very hard bond to break; I mean nothing spells out friendship like a life threatening situation right?

Which makes the fact that there's now a he between the she and her, all the more difficult to bear.

So when did it start? Ages ago, before the introduction of she, when it had just been the two of them. And the her had been disillusioned enough to believe that maybe…perhaps there could be something more between he and her. The two of them…something…epic.

No such luck, for fate is a bitch who must have at one time been a cheerleader, because despite what cartoons and musicals will lead you to believe, it is the outside that counts, and really no matter how kind and sweet you try to be…if you have buck teeth and a uni-brow, then that's just what the world will see of you…worse if you have red hair, freckles and knock knees…then you're pretty much screwed for life. Simply put. Hell, even Cinderella had her double Ds.

Will hadn't been surprised back then when he'd picked she over her—truly, if she'd been a hormonal teenaged boy at the time, she didn't even think that she'd pick herself. Let's be fair. So then at the tender age of thirteen she'd had her first heartbreak…wait no, at the tender age of thirteen she'd had her heart torn out of her chest and had been forced to watch as the ravens came to devour it.

She'd managed though, for even through her disillusioned state she could have never convinced herself that he would want her—even in those fantasies that her half asleep mind had conjured up late at night, it had always been her who had been the pursuer, he had always been some unwilling conquest.

Even then he'd never been between them…because she'd been able to just ignore it; he hadn't been between anyone, because she'd never been on the opposite end of the spectrum. It had for a very long time, just been them.

And she'd moved on, she found a boyfriend, a nice, sweet boyfriend who was every bit as handsome…who had wonderfully ignored the fact that she wasn't particularly…pretty or smart or funny; but who'd decided that he'd liked her for her. And she'd appreciated that.

And she'd been happy in that. He'd liked her, and so she'd liked him. He deserved that…her heart, and so, easily, she'd let him have it.

Although…there was still…that silly little attraction, growing more annoying with each passing day; she'd managed to invent…techniques to avoid it, lowering her eyes, biting her lips…humming, oh yes humming was good…some Hendrix or Jagger because those songs reminded her of where her priorities should be.

So yes, technically, it had always been around, it had been worse then…wait no, correction, it was worse now that she wasn't allowed to acknowledge it. She just had to ignore the knot of dissatisfaction that clutched her heart so artlessly…it was excruciating, and it was growing steadily more difficult because all she could think about was hiding it, and sometimes she wondered if they could see her preoccupation in her eyes.

Yeah, it was definitely better watching the birds make a meal of her inners.

How?

Now this, Will could brag about, because this she actually had a date for, and a time…here it was, the official first time that he'd kissed her (on the mouth), the very first time that the question had rolled through her mind: how in the hell had he decided to do this now?

He was late, she had scolded, she had a boyfriend now…but the words to Angie seemed misplaced whenever he came too close, and she could feel as those horrible emotions again, the ones that had only deepened after years of being ignored.

He'd told her things that she'd really wanted to hear; and then, he'd waited for a response—she didn't have one. She was floored: how had this happened?

He was done with Cornelia…she knew that, fine; she'd suspected that maybe he'd go chasing after some Victoria's Secret's model next. But he'd been next to her, kissing her…and she…didn't have a word to say.

She had been scared then, because he in about half a minute of mouth touching bliss had managed to destroy the foundations of what she had built up in three years.

She'd apologized, profusely, knowing that this must somehow be her fault because boys didn't suddenly fall for the girl that puberty avoided like the plague…maybe she'd gotten a new power…that had made sense as she recalled, running frightfully fast downtown, trying to get home in the middle of the night, Irma had mind control…maybe she had heart control.

She'd laughed it off, and then she'd cried. She'd talked to Matt that night because quite simply she felt worse about being alone, and then the next day as he'd kissed her good-morning when he'd come to walk her to school, all she could think of was how…inadequate his lips had felt.

Why?

Why now? Why not then? Why hadn't he paid her any attention when he could have? Before she had come along, before her had found him.

Certainly, her hair had grown out…but that was it, she was the same old Will, nothing spectacular, so why was he noticing her now?

He'd get bored of her…she was certain, he'd get bored and he'd move on to some other girl…

Whatever her heart control powers had made him feel would vanish in a few days and soon, she'd be back to humming the words of Angie…you can't say we never tried…see look they were coming back already.

Which brings us to the now…

What?

Wilma Vandom, hopping along the sidewalk this brilliant Sunday morning, coming home from running some errands for her mother. Her I-pod was stuffed in her jacket pocket and Purple Haze was blearing over the head phones.

She saw him, standing there…outside of her apartment, and immediately four escape plans drew themselves up in her mind. Run away was step one for each of them so that was obviously a good enough place to start.

He called her name, half way through the bridge and she was frozen, she couldn't leave now…

She gulped, maybe he'd apologize…sorry was always a good ice-breaker. Sorry for being three years too late was a better one…

"I'm sorry," she heard, pulling the ear buds away…what, she'd been right?

"About last night," but that needed no further explanation, she noticed that he wasn't looking at her—she decided to follow suit.

She nodded, blinking away the pain…damn it, she'd allowed herself to become disillusioned…again. "It's not a problem Caleb," she smiled at her shoes. No, last night's hour long make-out session hadn't affected her in the least.

"It might be," he continued, her smile faltered.

"No, it won't be…I-I've already forgotten all about that…in fact…I want to go home…my Mom needs her," toothpaste, "flour."

"I know that this isn't what you want to hear…but I did mean what I told you last night…I do…"

Don't say it. She closed her eyes, but the time had already past, the wealth of emotions that she always kept stored in her heart exploded, leaving her breathless. The roles were changing, the cast was jumbled as she could see it, gone were the pronouns, before her now she only saw faces, faces with feelings attached…things that made her wish that she could crawl back to three years ago when it had been so much easier to accept and pretend.

She wouldn't have accepted his words then, she wouldn't have been able to deal with the fact that he'd been choosing her then either, she couldn't even do it now…but at least now, she had an excuse.

"I'm with Matt. You know that." She was proud of how dull her voice sounded, but inside she was breaking. "You shouldn't have kissed me."

She wondered what he was thinking…nothing good she imagined, she'd distance herself from it if that's what it took.

"Is that the only reason?"

His voice hung in the air, at this time he did meet her eyes, although she broke the too-intimate contact before he could wreak too much damage. "No, because it's wrong…and…"

"The only reason that it's wrong is because you're with him."

"What are you saying?" Outrage, that's it go with that…but inside, her half-eaten heart was jumping…could he really be asking?

"I'm saying that…I don't know what I'm saying…" he moved around awkwardly before settling closer towards her, "well, actually, I do know…I know that you won't…like it."

He was…

"What makes you think that I would? I love Matt," And why shouldn't she? Matt was everything to her…he had held her when she'd been crying over him; Matt had made her feel gorgeous when he'd made her feel worthless and ugly. And she didn't care how much he thought that he wanted her now, she would love Matt, he deserved every ounce of her feelings; and she'd give them all to him…

"If you didn't though…"

"No, I wouldn't." Good, she wanted him to hurt, she wasn't sure that he would…but she wanted, oh God she wanted for him to feel the same way that she had when his gaze had breezed over her all those years ago.

Petty? Oh yes, but she didn't care, matters of the heart were obviously more complicated than mere manners alone.

Silence, the ravens were coming back for seconds.

"We're friends…God, you'll be back with Cornelia by next month anyway."

The dinner guests had arrived, they were descending in unison; in one magnificent black cloud, her heart jumped and struggled, but it couldn't get away…its fate was certain.

She would love Matt, she could and she would.

He didn't reply…and so she felt incredibly foolish, because she'd just had it, what she'd wanted, and had tried to want for all these years and now it was gone. She'd broken it.

He'd never kiss her again; he'd never again give her that much attention…

Her stomach rolled, the acid rising up her windpipe making it hard to do much, so she slipped the ear buds back into her ears, just in time to have Jimi croon to her burning eyes: it's painful baby.

He had no idea.

…………………

Author: I'm not too sure that I like this story, it's not my best. Well, my alphabet theory is going quite well, see once the re-runs get started you can just journey here, for example if F is for Fucked-up…I mean Facades airs you can come read my F is for First story and cheer yourself up with some WxC bliss. I'm writing these babies pretty fast so try to keep up.

Double update bitches! My bitches have love in them. How many ways can I piss off the CxC fans?

Read slowly, it helps, aloud is also good.

Um Purple Haze is a Jimi Hendrix song and Angie is from the Stones. I don't own those either.

Next, M is for Misery.