Where Do We Go From Here?, Marcel

[Genevieve]

Ginny just stormed out. A tiny part of her wanted to go back into the house. Wanted to tell Gideon to stop. Tell him to let Marcel go. But she knew Sofia wouldn't let either of them hurt each other, so Ginny just...shoved it from her mind. He'd be fine. They'd all be fine. Ginny just couldn't stay. She'd already cried a hell of a lot more than she wanted to, and looking at his face made her nauseous. She had to get away from all of this. She may have been one to start it, but she couldn't finish anything. Not here. Not now. Too much chaos.

So she walked. She walked and walked and walked and walked. At the rate she was going, it wasn't long before she hit the main road. She didn't turn. She didn't follow it. She crossed it and she kept going. Across the cement and into the trees. She didn't know where she was going really. She wasn't thinking about that. Her eventual destination would be her hotel room, of course, but right now...she didn't want to be locked up anywhere. She didn't want to be inside. She certainly wasn't dressed for the weather, but it didn't matter.

She lost her shoes along the way, not even bothering to carry them. She just walked barefoot through the trees. Her breath came in hard, fast puffs and eventually, she stopped, leaning against a tree. She gripped the sides of it tightly with her palms and slammed the back of her head against it. The knock made her a little dizzy, but her vision straightened after a moment.

She wasn't going to cry.

She wasn't going to cry.

Ginny closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to loosen the tightening in her chest.

[Marcel LaCroix]

Marcel stood on Gideon's porch, just staring at the door with the sound of the slam and Gideon's last words echoing in his ears. Never see the children again... That wasn't fair. It was downright cruel, was what it was! Gideon couldn't take the children away, Marcel's little niece and nephews, or godchildren, or whatever the hell they were... He loved them, and they had nothing to do with this whole stupid fucking mess. They shouldn't be punished for Sofia and Marcel's indiscretion. Not to mention, he needed them... He'd said so to Gideon, and he had meant it. But Gideon obviously didn't care. He'd just tossed him out into the cold. He waited for the telltale shouts and bangs of battle from Sofia and Gideon, but he didn't hear a thing... So either things were suddenly very good or still very bad.

And Ginny... Remembering, Marcel spun on his heel. he scanned the driveway, but there was no sign of Ginny. Shit. She had probably taken a taxi here, he knew, since she didn't have any independent mode of transportation herself. She subsisted just fine on cabs, Marcel's car, and her own feet. This meant, though, that unless she'd called a cab and had it arrive in two minutes, highly unlikely, she'd taken off on foot...which meant he could catch up. He jogged over to his car and slid into the driver's seat, turning the key where he'd carelessly left it in the transmission. He pulled out, crunching along the gravel road, and drove down, hoping for a flash of blonde... He finally found her, leaning against a tree as though she were trying to melt into it.

He rolled down the driver's side window and leaned out. "Ginny," he called wearily, his tone almost pleading. "Please get in the car. We need to talk. Please talk to me, agneau..."

[Genevieve]

Ginny just wanted to be alone. Actually...no...she didn't want to be alone. But she didn't have decent company. She had no one but herself. At least, at the moment she did. And it would probably stay that way. She didn't expect Marcel to come after her. She couldn't have made it more clear back and Gideon's that she did not want anything to do with him. Not right now, anyway. She just...needed to be left alone for a while. A couple of days. A couple of weeks. A month.

She heard car tires, but that didn't alarm her. She was standing next to a road, for heaven's sake. Of course there were going to be cars! What she didn't expect was his voice to grate on her ears. "Ginny, please get in the car. We need to talk. Please talk to me, agneau..."

She whipped around to look at him, sitting there in his car with the damn window rolled down. She glared at him from about ten feet away, her hands curled into fists at her sides. "Don't call me that," she growled. " You have lost the right to call me that!" She stomped up to his car and stopped when she was about four feet away. There was no way in hell that she was getting in, but she felt a bit ridiculous shouting at him from so far away. "I am angry and disappointed and hurt. If you think we can just kiss and make up over this, you are a blundering idiot!" She kicked the tire of his car with her bare foot, "So just take your stupid car and leave me alone," she muttered, spinning around and walking back into the trees; further this time until she was sufficiently surrounded.

[Marcel LaCroix]

"Don't call me that. You have lost the right to call me that!"

Ginny stomped over to the car, but Marcel wasn't stupid enough to hope that she'd actually get in the car like he asked. She was too angry. Too, too angry. He almost expected her to walk over and slap him across the face. Instead, she just stopped short about four feet from the window, glaring at him in a way she hadn't in a very, very long time. Maybe it was a leftover response to what Gideon had said, or maybe Ginny's anger was really starting to dawn on him, but it was all just really starting to hurt...

"I am angry and disappointed and hurt. If you think we can just kiss and make up over this, you are a blundering idiot! So just take your stupid car and leave me alone."

She turned and marched off the road and into the trees, and Marcel cursed under his breath. He was the idiot? She was going to get herself lost! He opened the car door and slid out, jogging to catch up wit Ginny. This was just not his night.

"Ginny!" he called, and he ran faster, swerving to stand in front of her. He held out his hands palm-first, like he was trying to slow down a spooked pony. "Ginny, stop," he said. "I didn't say 'kiss', or 'make-up', I said 'talk'. I just want to talk to you. But goddammit... Look, if you won't talk to me, at least let me give you a ride home. Please, agn-... Please, Ginny."

[Genevieve]

Ginny wasn't getting in the car. She didn't want to be that close to him. It would drive her insane. She couldn't stand it. When she looked at him, or smelled him, or heard his voice, all she could see behind her eyelids were the two of them, Marcel and Sofia, fucking. It made her sick. It made her angry. It hurt. It hurt worse this time around than it did the last. Everything they'd gone through...forcing herself to put some faith in him again...and then he just threw it all away. It only took Sofia. He'd throw everything away for that woman.

She almost gagged.

She was back in the forest. Just walking. She just wanted to get away from him. Far, far away. "Ginny!" Before Ginny could even think about moving faster, he'd swerved in front of her and she backed up a few steps. The glare in her eyes never ceased, but little by little, it began to show more and more pain. "Ginny, stop. I didn't say 'kiss', or 'make-up', I said 'talk'. I just want to talk to you. But goddamit... Look, if you won't talk to me, at least let me give you a ride home. Please, agn-... Please, Ginny."

Her jaw tightened. "What could there possibly be to talk about?" she growled. "You promised me this wouldn't happen. You promised and you lied. I'm not going through this again. So...so you know what? Whenever you're ready for a mature relationship and whenever you're ready to commit yourself and whenever you've learned to keep your fucking dick in your pants, then call me. Then we'll talk. Because I," she pressed her hand over her chest, right above her still heart, "Love you. And I want you. But I can't deal with this. Not again. So when you decide you want to get your shit together, maybe we could work things out, but until then," she paused before waving her hands and turning around. "I'm just not." She began walking then, back up to the road, but she wasn't getting in the car. She'd rather walk.

[Marcel LaCroix]

Ginny didn't have to open her mouth for Marcel to know that she wasn't going back to the car with him. She wasn't going to talk with him. She didn't want anything to do with him at all, at least not at that moment. Marcel, even as a young man, had prided himself on his carriage, the way he held himself, the way he operated himself. Even now, he felt that crumbling. His shoulders slumped. His knees felt weak, like he wanted to collapse. His throat closed up the moment she started speaking.

"What could there possibly be to talk about? You promised me this wouldn't happen. You promised and you lied. .... Whenever you're ready for a mature relationship and whenever you're ready to commit yourself and whenever you've learned to keep your fucking dick in your pants, then call me. Then we'll talk. Because I love you. And I want you. But I can't deal with this. Not again. So when you decide you want to get your shit together, maybe we could work things out, but until then...I'm just not."

She turned and headed back to the road, though not, he guessed, to the car. He followed back, slowly and numbly, staying enough paces behind so it wasn't obvious that he was following her - just walking in the same direction. But as he walked with all her words and Gideon's words and Sofia's words echoing in his head like an absent cyclone, the world began to spin. His vision started to fog and finally, he could barely see. He slumped and crumpled against the nearest tree, his face falling into his hand, and to his horror, he started to cry. The stress of losing everything, everyone he cared about...Ginny, Sofia, the kids, Ginny... His back shuddered in sobs he couldn't quite suppress, and he cried harder than he could recall in a long, long time.

[Genevieve]

She was going to walk home. She decided that the moment she left Gideon's house. She didn't want to be in a car right now. She felt claustrophobic just with the cold, winter air pressing in around her. She didn't want to be near people. She especially did not want to be near him. And he thought he might convince her to let him give her a ride home. It was ridiculous. What made him think she wanted to be anywhere near him right now? He should have just gone home...saved it for another day when they could talk without...all of this! She didn't want to talk now. She was just finished. She was through.

She left him there in the trees. She'd told him everything that he needed to know, and deep down...she didn't want to leave him. But he didn't give her a choice! Besides, she told herself, if he really, really wanted to be with her...he'd change his ways. He wouldn't try and leave room for failure. He would just do it. Leaving knowing the high possibility that that wouldn't happen was what killed her most. She loved him. She really did. She was head over heels for the man, but she couldn't do this.

She got maybe fifteen feet. She heard his shoes crunching behind her, but suddenly they stopped. And all in a few seconds, she heard his sobs. Crying annoyed her sometimes, but this...Marcel never cried. Especially not in front of her. She could hear the heartbreak in his cries and it tore her up. Ginny was angry. She was devestated, but she still cared about him. And she hated it when he was like this.

So, despite her better judgement, she turned around. She saw him slumped against a tree and sighed quietly. She went to him. She still wasn't sure if she wanted to touch him or not...but she wrapped her arms around him anyway. This was wrong. Comforting him after what she just said, but she couldn't leave him here like this. She lifted a hand to stroke the back of his head. "Marcel, please, don't..." She murmured. Touching him still...she didn't want to be, but at the same time she did. "I'll let you drive me home... If that will help at all, I will," she mumbled. She still wasn't going back on what she said. She needed him, but she couldn't have him unless he was going to be faithful.

[Marcel LaCroix]

There was nothing that made Marcel feel weaker than crying. People don't cry, he knew, when they are sad. They don't cry when they are angry, or hurt. They cry when they are frustrated. A loved one dies - there is frustration because there is nothing you can do to get them back. A friend fights with you - there is frustration because there is so much irritation and miscommunication that goes into it. And in Marcel's case, he knew, and had always known on some level or another, that he never failed to make his own bed, and now he was being made to lie in it. He was being strapped to the bedposts and drowned under the hundreds of layers of sheets he'd lain out for himself. He had lost Sofia, his closest friend in some ways. He had lost the children that he adored so much. He had lost Ginny, the most sweet, loving, forgiving woman he had ever been with. And all this because of one, stupid, impulsive action. It was frustrating, because now, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't change any of it. He had promised Ginny he would be a different person, but he wasn't. He would always be exactly the same, equating sex with healing or joy or comfort. It was always the first thing he would turn to. It was like a drug addiction, or a food addiction. It was what helped him...and now, it had immeasurably hurt him.

He didn't expect Ginny to come back for him, and he certainly didn't expect her to fall to her knees and wrap her arms around him. He would have given anything to be able to hold her back...but he didn't want to push his luck. He just stayed there, leaning against the tree with his knees pulled up and his face in his hands.

"Marcel, please, don't... I'll let you drive me home... If that will help at all, I will."

If Marcel could have cried harder, he would have. He just wouldn't let himself. He didn't deserve to be comforted like this. He didn't want to hurt her like this. He wanted to get her away from him so she wouldn't be sucked into his misery in addition to her own, but Marcel was, at heart, a selfish man. He wanted her there, so he let her stay.

"I can't do this," he gasped, his voice cracking. "I can't change. I'm sorry, I can't, I tried and I can't, I can't stop being..." He stalled and silently cursed the watery red tears he knew was running down his face. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't lose all of you. I can't lose everyone. Gideon said he's going to take the children away from me, and you... If I can't change for you... I'm losing everything, Ginny. I've lost everything. There's nothing left. I don't want to be here if there's nothing left, it's too fucking hard."

[Genevieve]

Ginny had a backbone and she had a thicker skin than she used to have...but when Marcel started crying, she just couldn't leave him that way. She couldn't. Physically or emotionally. But she really shouldn't have gone to hug him like she did either. What if he got the wrong message. This wasn't going to make anything better. This wasn't going to make him better, or their relationship...but she couldn't leave him there.

She held him and pulled him toward, rocking back and forth just ever so slightly as her hand held his head to her shoulder. She didn't know what to say or do. Was there anything else to say? She told him...she told him everything that she'd planned to tell him. Nothing more, nothing less. So all she could do now was try to quiet him. She hated this. It hurt too much, and now she felt like she was going to cry too. She could feel the stinging in her eyes and she fought herself so that she wouldn't bury her face in his neck.

"I can't do this. I can't change. I'm sorry, I can't, I tried and I can't, I can't stop being... I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't lose all of you. I can't lose everyone. Gideon said he's going to take the children away from me, and you... If I can't change for you... I'm losing everything, Ginny. I've lost everything. There's nothing left. I don't want to be here if there's nothing left, it's too fucking hard."

She didn't say a single word, at least not for a few moments. She just kneeled there at rocked him. What started out as a gentle embrace had transformed into her hands, clutching him to her. "Don't say that, Marcel. Please don't say that." Ginny hated this. Being his pillar right after she'd ripped herself out from under him. But...Ginny could be just as selfless as she could be selfish. Especially when it came to the men she was in in love with. She pulled away gently and took his face in her hands. "Marcel...cheri, cher couer," she murmured. Her eyebrows were stitched together, but her eyes no longer held a glare...no anger...just deep, hearfelt pain and concern. "Why? Why can't you change? All that I'm asking should already follow hand-in-hand behind love. If...if you can't change for me, then at least change for yourself. The only one holding you back is you..." Ginny, surprisingly, was not crying. She was just holding his face and leaning into him slightly, spreading her thumbs across his cheeks and looking him in the eyes. "Please...please stop crying..."

[Marcel LaCroix]

Ginny squeezed him tightly and started to rock him gently in her arms, like he were the child and she the comforting parent. He felt horrible... Worse than he’d felt in months and months. He’d caused so much pain, yes, but that wasn’t even all of the problem... Ginny shouldn’t have been doing this. She shouldn’t have been trying to comfort him like this. He didn’t deserve any of it. And it was just a reaffirmation, really, of why he loved her so much, and why he was little more than scum for betraying her the way he did. She was so sweet, so caring, so selfless at times, and for some unfathomable reason, she loved him. If she were gone...he could never find someone like her again.

"Don't say that, Marcel. Please don't say that. Marcel...cheri, cher couer..." Marcel actually winced slightly when she called him that - dear heart. Especially after she had reacted so violently to his calling her by her petname, lamb. "Why? Why can't you change? All that I'm asking should already follow hand-in-hand behind love. If...if you can't change for me, then at least change for yourself. The only one holding you back is you... Please...please stop crying..."

Marcel took a deep, shuddering breath and fought the urge to wrap his arms around Ginny’s petite little body and crush his face against her neck, just to breathe her in. “I don’t know what you want from me,” he said quietly. He wasn’t really crying anymore, but his voice was still raw and strained. “I don’t know what to do. I want to change for you, I want to keep you... I fucking need you, Ginny, I can’t fucking live without you. So if I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve to live...”

With another sigh, he eased himself out of Ginny’s arms and stood up, rubbing the blood out of his eyes with the back of his hand. “Shit,” he cursed to himself under his breath. He felt so fucking stupid, crying in front of Ginny, crying at all! “Shit!” he suddenly yelled, pounding his fist so hard against the trunk of the tree that his knuckles almost tore. He fell forward, his forehead resting against the cool bark, and he closed his eyes. “Do you still need a ride?” he muttered wearily. “I won’t talk about it, if that’s what you want.”