Dancing For Rain, Deme

[Erik Malone]

Every word she said struck deeper and deeper into the small wounded boy inside of him. She wasn't trying to wound, he knew that, but her speech did; the familiar tones of her voice telling him he hadn't been the most important thing - should he have known? yes, and had he? probably, and ignored it - made him want to curl up and whimper. It also made him want to hurt her, too. Since when did Arya think she had a monopoly on pain and betrayal?

"You act like you're the only one who's ever been hurt," he said, his voice rising in pain and anger too. He lifted his head off of his knees. "Like you're the only one who knows what that feels like. Your best friend killed himself. My best friend tried to kill me once, do you remember? And very nearly succeeded. Do you know we almost swore an Unbreakable Vow, Taylor and I? Did you know that, Arya? That we would never hurt each other, even on opposite sides. That we would be friends forever. And we're not, we won't be, and all I had left was you, and it wasn't enough!"

He hadn't known he would say that until the words spilled from his mouth. He was on his feet, not knowing how he'd gotten there, hands clenching into fists at his sides from the tension that had nowhere else to go. His voice had come out in a scream into the sudden stillness that was the storm settling into mere rain instead of a blustery tempest. He wished his emotions would go that way too. Soon enough, he thought. Soon enough.

"It wasn't enough," he went on quietly. Now that he'd started, he couldn't stop. "You want to know the truth, Arya? We both of us felt the same way. We chose each other over our best friends, and I think it was maybe the wrong decision."

[Arya Alexanda]

She hadn't expected the way that Erik was looking at her. For a brief second, Arya felt almost terrified by the intense look he was determined not to break. It made her body give off small, harmless shivers, which she remembered as the feeling of shock. Because Arya was shocked, more shocked then she ever thought possible, more shocked then she had ever been in her life. The green iris of Erik's eyes were being attacked vicious by the size of his dark dangerous pupils and oddly enough they made Arya feel so many different emotions all at one time. It was as though Arya had known she had crossed the line, but she had still continued walking. She realised how arrogant and self absorbed her words had been and didn't think anything of it. They were what she had considered as the truth. She thought that Erik knew what she was saying, believed her and had the same view. But Arya hadn't reminded herself, that her opinion of Demetrius was so much different then Erik's was, it had always been, but now it was more positive than it ever had before. She had been stupid to forget the simple fact that Erik had, had some feelings towards Demetrius that were similar to the one's that he felt about her. And Arya just couldn't acknowledge it. She still couldn't believe it. After everything, she still wasn't able to believe that Erik had loved Demetrius the way she had. It didn't seem possible to her and in a small way, Arya knew that she was by far jealous of the fact.

Her legs finally collapsed in on themselves, she couldn't feel the aching in her bones, only the slight numbness of her face. Of course her face was truly a sight to be seen, red and white patches coated her face, as she tried hard not to break Erik's eye contact. She could almost feel the violence ready to explode within him, she hadn't known how Erik would take Demetrius's death, she had only thought of herself. She was stupid, stupid to think that Erik would be the one to take pity on her, to beg for her forgiveness. How wrong she had been. It had only taken her the time span of a single breath before her ears went numb with the sound. His voice had turned so cold and fierce in a matter of minutes, it was as though the walls around the rooftop were crashing in on her, she could hear this voice rebounding off the wet stone and each time sieged its chance to strike her in the stomach. She pulled her legs around, bending them to her chest for support. Her head had shrunken down slightly, in the hope to protect itself from the shouts that seemed so foreign coming from the lips she recognised. Arya should have expected the sudden outburst, but her head felt so heavy and confused. Why hadn't she thought about Erik's reaction? Why hadn't she prepared herself for it? She didn't know. She doubted she would have ever thought that Erik would act this way with her. He was so cruel with the way he spoke each and every word, like he was trying to damage her with every syllable possible. Arya had never believed that Erik could harm her, but now that she saw the way his face twisted when he spoke to it, she wasn't so sure. Would he hurt her? It wasn't a question you just asked when you were trying to dim the loudness of the voice of your lover.

Every word made her body sink lower and lower to the dirty floor. She could feel the weight of the words forcing themselves down on her, she couldn't breathe. She could feel the air going in through her mouth and nose, but her lungs weren't continuing the process. She raised her left hand to her mouth quickly, trying to hide the effect Erik was having on her, before he was calm enough to realise. She was sure, he was too angry to even suspect anything and by the time Arya could raise her head high enough to look at him again, she could breath. She would have never of thought that one small breath would mean so much to her, but now taking in the cold air, it felt like heaven. As to Erik's words, Arya had been too busy with her panic attack to battle with them. Now she could feel them stabbing into her, like small knife, each time coming back for another easy shot at her, because Arya hadn't moved. She had stayed completely still, too afraid that if she did, Erik might just lose it. So this was what it had been like for Erik to watch her and Demetrius go at each other’s throats and almost try to kill each other. But the main factor was that they hadn't taken that final shot. They hadn't killed each other, Demetrius death had been his discussion, Erik and Arya hadn't had an opinion on it. "Don't you think I know that Erik! Don't you think I know that I could have been the reason why Demetrius is dead? But I wasn't Erik, I couldn't. I was never going to yell that final curse Erik. I was never going to!" Arya had thought her voice would have been so quiet, almost a whisper, but it had come out in a violent shout, a number of shouts. Arya didn't have the strength to kill Demetrius; she would have done something instead of saying the killing curse, anything other than it.

As Erik mentioned Taylor's name she was hit was another wave of nausea. She remembered that day, the day that Erik and Taylor's friendship had been destructed. It had been her fault as well. It seemed that any friendship close to her or any relationship couldn't exist. It had been her and the Karkaroff scum that had ruined the relationship; she remembered how she had tried to put herself in front of Erik and Taylor and then Erik again. It was only after Erik's quick decision that he had come away with his life. Arya had felt so responsible for it, she still did now, but she had forgotten. "I didn't know you had Erik." She uttered. Arya had pulled her face up, to turn it to look at the space around Erik's feet; she could feel her face changing, her lips tightening in her shame. Erik was right; she had only thought about herself, she only ever did think about herself. She was too use to it, knowing that there was no one else there. She had neglected Erik, used him and yet she still loved him. She had always loved him, she had thought choosing Erik had been because she couldn't see how her and Demetrius could exist together, but now she was sure that it had been because she had loved him. She had been trying hard not to move her eyes from the shadowed piece of stone she had been staring at, but the last of Erik's words had caused her eyes to strike up automatically. She could feel them getting stuck in her throat, feel them driving every bit of colour from her face, feel them tighten her chest as though something inside her was using her heart as a punching bag. Each blow caused jolts of pain sprinting through her veins and nerves. She wasn't enough .

Somehow Arya had shuffled herself backyards to get herself out of range. She hadn't realised that she had moved until she saw the larger distance between where Erik stood covering everything in darkness and where she sat curled in on herself. She kept repeating the words round and round in her head, and every time they seemed to strike her down more heavily than before. The pain that was coming so agonisingly from her chest, felt like it was choking her, taking over her body. She wasn't enough. She hadn't been able to speak; she had lost the feeling in her lips now like the rest of her body. She could feel the wind wiping her hair around her face and she couldn't make the effect to move the strands from her eyes or open mouth. "If I wasn't enough you should have said and I would have jumped of the rooftops instead of him. If I wasn't enough why bother, Deme knew I wasn't worth it, why didn't you. Because Erik though I wasn't enough for you, you were always enough for me. I gave up my life so that I could be enough for you." Arya said quietly, it was enough that she had realised that she was being disowned by Erik as well to make her eyes start shedding those evil little droplets of liquid. They run down her cheek and onto her lips and she didn't care.

[Erik Malone]

As quickly as the anger had hit him, it was gone, watching her curl in on herself. Who was he kidding? He loved Arya. He'd given up so many things for her, too. He could still feel it burning through him, love and anger and fear and pain all mixed together like it seemed they'd always been with her. It had never been easy or carefree or fun. He'd been easy and carefree and fun once, he thought. Before Arya. He missed that. But with Taylor on the other side, and his own questioning of what he wanted and where he should be, he knew those days were gone.

"You were worth it," he said softly. "At the time. When I had to choose. Then, it was the right decision. Now?" He sighed. He knew it would hurt. He could see her pain. He knew how much she had trusted him that she would let him see, even still - she had always hidden so much of herself away.

"You've gone where I can't follow," he continued finally. "There's so much darkness in you. I needed - I needed something brighter in the world. Not that - " he hesitated, not wanting to mention it, but knew he had to now - "not that Deme was Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky, but...it was different, I guess. I just wanted to be happy."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry I've made such a mess of things. I'm sorry I hurt you. But Arya, don't you see? I had to. You were always worth it, but you don't believe you are, you've never believed me when I told you. What am I supposed to do? What do you want from me?" His voice cracked on the last sentence. He stepped back against the wall, feeling like he was hovering over her, some terrifying shadow. She wanted space - she was cringing away from him - he gave it to her.

[Arya Alexanda]

Arya hadn't realised the extent of the way her body was shaped. She hadn't realised the angles of which her limps had pulled themselves within her body. She could feel her joints protesting, aching with every second that she held them in place. She couldn't move them, there was an invisible grip pining them there, and she knew what that grip was. It was fear, so thickly wrapped around her body parts that they were broken off from the instructions that her brain was screaming out. They felt numb in parts, where the blood hadn't been able to reach. It felt like her heart was beating so hard, that surely her veins would crush in on themselves, her pulse was going too fast for her even to count the fluent beats. She was over heating, though her fingers were frozen, cold from the weather conditions. Certain parts of her body, her fingers, her nose, felt like they only had a short amount of time before they would fall to the ground. It was aggravating, feeling the hot and cold flushes vibrating through her, every second changing to give the opposite effect. She couldn't understand why suddenly she was acting so weak and defenceless. Why she was allowing herself to show her true feelings, those of terror and shock? Her head was so full of the silent protests that she couldn't concentrate. She couldn't fight back. But did she want to fight back? She didn't know what her true feelings were what her emotions were right now. Her body was in over load. She couldn't hang onto one thing for long, before another pain hit her sharply once again.

It felt briefly like she was returning to her old self. So quick to believe what people thought of her, so naive to think that they were right? She was doing her best to cling on with all her strength to Erik, but she knew she was falling, falling so badly that she was starting to reach the black floor. It was like a black hole, too ready to swallow her whole and never let her return. She could see all her relationships at once slipping easily through the space in between her fingers, she knew she was on the verge of losing everything, everything that she had ever wanted, and now it was too late for her to turn back. Her eyes moved slowly from there terrified gaze, as the violence in Erik's voice slowly altered into a softer, more purposely gentle tone. She could still hear the harshness catching at the back of his words; she could still feel that heart wrenching feeling that was beating her insides with all there might. Her head had risen slightly from the position it had once held, his words weren't as damaging as they had been before, Arya was able to look at him in the face instead of stare at his feet. She was trying not to notice the way his cheek bones looked so pale, so unlike his normal appearance. She was only imagining the way that he always looked to her, how his face almost brightened at the sight of her. But of course Arya couldn't take away the fact that Erik's face was the complete opposite.

Gently pushing her legs away from her body, Arya looked deep into Erik's eyes. She was sure he knew what he was doing to her, damaging her beyond repair. She could already feel that agonising feeling of her heart breaking, splitting into millions of tiny pieces that couldn't be fixed back together again. And yet while he was causing so much brutalising pain on her, she was doing nothing, nothing to even go against the words that hit relentlessly into her chest. Was it the truth of his words that were keeping her down? Was she feeling guilty that she had known this might happen all along? Or was it just that she was too in love with Erik to bring herself to attack back? She was sure it was mostly the last option. She was starting to regret the strikes that she had taken turns with Demetrius; she didn't want her and Erik to end that way, or even go down that route. Even the thought was too painful to describe."Why not now?"Arya asked, the words coming harshly off her lips. She scrapped her legs smoothly across the stone, as she moved closer to Erik. She was fighting the urge to move back, to get as far away from him as possible, but that wasn't her and Arya wouldn't let that be her, not again. She was fighting the small tremors along her arms, fighting the screaming warnings that were going off in her head. She had to get closer to him, see his face more clearly. Even if it meant that he was able to attack her more swiftly, Arya would take her chance. She didn't know whether Erik would strike out, she had never believed he could, until now. She could feel the goose bumps on her neck at the mention of Demetrius, knowing that she had been below Demetrius all the time. She had tried to change herself, tried to not fall so deeply into the darkness trap that the Dark Lord had over her. But it was no good. She couldn't help herself.

She could feel it coming now, the desperation coating her arms and legs. She couldn't help herself, moving too quickly for her brain to figure out what her next move was. Her legs had forced themselves hastily across the small distance that had separated the two of them. There was pain in the movement, anxiety creeping out from the hurried action of her knees .She could feel the soreness in them and she didn't stop. She could feel her face falling, feel it putting on the anger and isolation she was feeling right now. She wasn't going to let Erik do this. She wasn't going to let him give up. Even if she had to show everything she had been hiding from him, even if she had to attack him to make him stop what he was saying. He couldn't mean it; he couldn't mean that now she was worth nothing to him. Reaching the spot where Erik stood, her body looked like it was about to collapse there in front of him. But it didn't, her arms grabbed a hold of his legs, the hold was both soft but desperate at the same time. She could feel the tense in his leg muscles, and her fingers gripped harder to stop themselves from shying away. She tried to make her hold soft, but every part of her was forcing pain on the one that she cared about. "Don't say you’re sorry."She whispered, her head moving in to rest on the centre of his leg. She was willing to take the risk, to see whether he would move. If he did, Arya knew that it would only end badly for her. She closed her eyes; she couldn't look up, up into his face. She could only imagine the strangeness in it. "I want you to try! To change me if you have to! Anything, anything but walk away from me now. Anything but leave me fractured and broken."Arya uttered. She didn't care that Erik could over power her; all she knew was that what Erik said meant that she would leave the rooftops alone.

[Erik Malone]

Erik cringed to see Arya abasing herself so terribly in front of him, crawling across the rooftop and clinging to his leg. He wished he could Obliviate both of them, to make her forget about this, to make himself forget. But Deme was gone. And with a Deme-shaped hole in their lives, the questions would come up. And he guessed she wouldn't sit still for it anyway. The tension had already been there - he'd been pulling away for a long time without realising that that was what he was doing. They could forget, but the pain would still be there, echoing between them with no source to explain it. Sooner or later, they would once again confront the truth.

But to see her like this - for a brief moment, no, he didn't love her. The girl he loved was the one who had stood proudly before them, ready to conquer the world. The one who was begging at his feet wasn't the one he had fallen for. Wasn't the Arya he knew. He wondered if he'd lost her altogether - and if it had been his fault, or if she had been on this long road to self-destruction since her ill-fated childhood.

He knelt down beside her, peeling her fingers from the wet cloth of his jeans and clasping her hands gently in his own. "Arya, love," he said softly, his words punctuated by the sound of falling rain. "Please don't do this. Don't beg. You're better than that." He shook his head. "We've come a long way since the days I was begging you for a date, haven't we?"

Carefully, he pulled her up to sit beside him. He wanted to take her in his arms, but he wasn't sure it was the right thing to do. Maybe she would feel his arms around her and picture those same arms around Deme, the way they'd been when she'd arrived on the rooftops. He was afraid to ask what she would think. And he didn't think he really had the right to comfort her anymore anyway. She was begging him not to leave her, but when they'd both had to make a choice, both of them had chosen Demetrius. Not each other. He couldn't look at her without remembering her wand up, ready to attack Deme - and the accusation in her eyes when she looked at him. That accusation was gone now. But sooner or later, it would come back.

He dragged his wand from his pocket and cast a light drying and warming spell over the two of them, both soaked to the skin. Maybe it would help.

"So," he said eventually. "We have to figure out what to do." He brushed his hair out of his eyes. "I swear to you, and I will under either legilimency or Veritaserum if you like, that I have never been untrue to you with anyone else." He shifted uncomfortably. "And I wasn't like, going to leave you or anything. I would never leave you until you told me to, Arya. So you tell me, love, what is it that you want?"