Not My Best Moment [Meg]

[Megara Argyris]

(Hey it's cool! Good even ;D I'm looking forward to exploring this new resolve of his and the effect it will have on Meg. Maybe he can catch her in a vulnerable moment or two endless possibilities. All I know is he's got a lot of work ahead of him if he means it xD )

Stop apologizing. she rushed through her teeth, her heart pounding as her entire being resisted the direction this situation was taking. She could feel herself threatening the crumble. She always felt like she was teetering on the edge of her life, dangerously walking the line between remaining in one piece and shattering into a million. She could never be completely whole again, but she could claw and fight to keep herself together. She felt like a puzzle made up of bits that were never meant to go together in the first place. She was forcing herself to be okay and she was damn good at it, but this kid had pushed her a little too hard at the beginning of their interaction and now she was still struggling to regain her balance. Then he kept throwing things at her, using his words and actions to shoot at her feet and keep her from standing on solid ground long enough to find her cold hard center again. Who does he think he is to cause her this much stress? If he was so bent on happiness in the world, perhaps he should do them both a favor and leave her alone!

...And... absolutely, under no circumstances, do you touch without permission.

Meg had been watching the ground when it happened, searching the garden for the answer to all her problems when he gently placed a hand on her shoulder. She might as well have been shot the way his touch pulsed through her body like ripple of intense heat. She might have been able to handle it better if she had seen it coming, but in the fragile state she'd found herself in and with her eye's downcast, she'd not thought he'd be so bold. Yet he was and every muscle in Meg's body tensed as a natural defense toward the unwanted contact. Meg could touch you, that was alright because she had planned on it and had control over it, but don't touch Meg unless you're invited. She's been touched one too many times by people she'd gone so far as to actively fight off their advances and failed.

It took a long minute for her brain to recover from the shock. His words came across muffled and unimportant. He was promising something and preaching more good about the world which meant nothing. She managed to pull ehr head above water just in time to hear him ask "Why don't you open up and try to...to let some good happen to you? Which somehow got twisted up in her mind as something snakelike and sinister. Some good, what? Like you?

Megara snapped.

Don't TOUCH me! She screeched at last, dipping down and backwards to release herself from this hold. Don't touch me. she repeated again, calmer as she took a few steps backwards. Just....just leave me alone... she said, looking anywhere but him and holding her hands up defensively. Her breathing was getting out of control and she could feel tears threatening to spill over her lids. She needed to cool it. Just breathe, Meg, breathe.

[Henry Charmant]

Henry threw his hands up, keeping them raised in a defensive position to show that he didn't mean any harm. "I-I'm..." He struggled to keep from apologizing again. She'd already shown that she didn't appreciate that. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said slowly. He kept his hands very visible, dropping them to his sides and keeping his palms turned toward her so she could see that he wasn't concealing anything. Without realizing it, he'd also adopted the expression of an injured puppy who was wondering why it was being punished for trying to be nice.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he told her, holding his position even though he wanted to reach forward and comfort her. "You don't look like you should be left alone right now. And you shouldn't have to be alone. I understand if you don't want to be around me, but is there a friend I can call for you? Someone to help you?" He almost instantly kicked himself. He didn't have any good friends here, and he was a generally friendly person. Why should he expect that she would have anyone here that she liked? She probably didn't even have friends at home; who would you be friends with in hell?

"I, uh. That was stupid. I'm s--I should, er, I should probably..." He trailed off. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? She wanted him to leave, but in her condition that hardly seemed like the right approach to take. So he stood there, hands awkwardly half-outstretched at his sides, his neck and ears beginning to burn red. "I should..."

[Megara Argyris]

Meg kept her hands out in front of her, mimicking Henry's inicial movement in hopes of proving his innocence, until a shock of pain struck her brain and she moved a couple of fingers to her temple. Using just a couple of fingers she gently pressed against her skull and hissed as another pang shot through her mind. It was as if her brain was struggling so much to cope with the tormenting memories that clawed at her insides that her body couldn't quite handle it. More likely was that her refusal to outwardly express her emotional distress was leaving her body no choice but to manifest the agony into a physical form. She could feel her stomach rioting as well, along with the pouding of her heart and overworked lungs. She'd experienced this before on two separate occasions that she'd tried very hard to forget about being that she'd never been so out of control in her whole life. She was teetering on the edge of a panic attack which, once begun, seemed to develop a mind of it's own and ravage through her body without any better reason besides the fact that someone had flipped some kind of a trigger. Weather Meg thought it was worth getting upset over or not was irrelevant. When you walk through life as if on a tightrope, the strangest winds can knock you off your feet.

Meg could hear Henry promise not to hurt her, but her ears were ringing and she felt...far away. She tried to straighten her posture and endure her suffering in as much silence as possible, but she knew her tight expression and watery eyes betrayed her struggle. She kept flexing ehr hands, closing them into fists and then opening them again as if this movement would hurry the fear on it's way at any moment. He said that he didn't want to leave which was utterly despairing since all she wanted right now was to be alone so she could let the attack run it's course like a violent virus without the embarrassment of someone else being around. All she could see were pictures of the underworld, Hades' cruel grin, the faces of the people she helped seal their fate, the demons, the cries of those doomed to eternal torture. She was messed up, she wasn't denying that, but she had a process of handling things so if he could just scurry off that would be fantastic. She dare not speak, however, she dare not make any move too big or else her knees might buckle or she could vomit. No thanks.

Friends? He said. He asked if she had any friends he could call.

Without warning a hollow bark of a laugh escaped her lips. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth, but it was too late. She could feel the tears at last begin to soak the hands that determinately squeezed her face in hopes that the wheezing could be masked. Her chest heaved breaths in and out as though she were drowning, though her eyes carried such a severe look of hate that it was a wonder the flowers around them didn't wither up and die upon meeting her gaze. She couldn't calm herself fast enough, though her anger and embarrassment seemed to only feed her emotional distress rather than diminish it. She felt like she was burning from the inside out and eventually her knees gave in and she fell to her knees. With her palms down in front of her she glared at the ground and ordered herself to slow her breathing and calm down before this goon gets any ideas about thinking she's weak or that she needs any help.

[Henry Charmant]

She was in pain, that much was clear, and Henry didn't know what to do. In a fit of confusion he looked around for guards, a medic, a servant. It took a moment for him to realize that he was not in the castle and no one else was around to help. He took an involuntary step forward, hands outstretched to help, but he stopped himself. She hadn't wanted his help or for him to touch her.

When she actually began to cry, though, he couldn't stop himself anymore. He yanked a handkerchief out of his back pocket and stepped forward to offer it to her. Crouching down next to her, he held the handkerchief out in front of her face. "Here," he said gently. "It's okay. It's all right to cry. Someone told me it's a sign of strength, actually. It's okay to cry over something that has been broken or lost. It shows that you are able to feel emotions, and that's even harder than burying them." Where had he heard that? Something was tugging at his mind, something that wanted him to cry, but he didn't have time for that now. He needed to do other things.

He stretched out his hand. "Is it all right if I touch you now? You look...you look like you could use a hug."

[Megara Argyris]

How had it come to this? Hadn't she walked in on him crying? And now look where she was, staring through teary eyes at the hunks of dirt she clung to as she attempted to resurface from a panic attack. How could she have let herself fall so far that she'd let someone upset her so much? It was positively horrifying that he was seeing ehr this way and that she had lost all control over her physical and emotional state. It was like she was sitting inside her mind and all she could do was watch herself crumble and wait for it all to be over. She'd prefer to let this happen on her own, unfortunately and of course Henry had decided to stay because he was obviously some big sappy idiot who couldn't take a hint. He was such a hero and, to Meg, that wasn't a compliment. He was your typical olympian athlete, hoping to save the damsil in distress without thinking for a second that she could maybe handle it herself. Even though...she obviously was not handling things very well on her own. Whatever, that wasn't the point. The point was she didn't appreciate the stupid piece of cloth he shoved in her face.

Her breathing continued to hurt her chest though she managed something like a hiss as she lifted a hand to bat the offer away. She wanted to curl up into a whole was all, but there was nothing here besides open space and Henry. She felt vulnerable and sick and her head felt clouded and dizzy. All this hyperventilating was depriving her body of proper oxygen and if she didn't calm down soon she was likely to pass out. That was the last thing she wanted or needed. Then he'd have to carry her home or something else terrible. Who knows what could happen if she were unconscious and completely helpless. She needed to calm down and his ramblings were not helping. He said something about crying being a sign of strength. Yeah right. He could believe that all he wanted, but no one bought that where she was from. He went on to say that she was able to feel emotions and some such that was agonizingly true and made her squeeze her eyes shut so tight that a wave of vertigo hit her and she almsot swooned.

Burying...them...is...is better she managed to get out between shaky breaths and clenched teeth. Then he reached out a hand again. Meg could see it coming out of the corner of her eye and panicked. She sat up and snatched his wrist to keep his hand from coming any closer. The sudden gesture called all of her focus and distracted her from her stress for a long enough moment to get her heart to slow after she realized he was asking for permission. Innocent confusion registered on her face as she blinked at him a few times, her dizzy brain trying to work out what had just occurred. Meg forced herself to take a deep breath and was pleased that her lungs obeyed. The attack was passing at last. Her lips twitched up into a sad smirk while she still clung to his wrist and tried to regain control of herself. She looked like a mess. Her hair had fallen into her face and she ripped a hole in one of her pant legs. Perfect.

Hug me and I'll kill you, pretty boy. She said softly, sounding like an echo of herself.

[Henry Charmant]

He froze when she grabbed his wrist, neither pulling away or trying to move closer. He paused, giving her time to react to his words and actions. As she watched him, he stared back at her, trying to keep his eyes on hers and judge how the situation was actually leaning. At long last, though, she seemed to recollect herself. He breathed at the same time she did, only then realizing that he had been holding his breath. He kept his arm still, unwilling to make any sudden movements. He'd taken similar approaches with wild or injured animals. Move slowly, speak calmly, help them to feel more in control. Then they were less likely to lash out.

"Tempting offer," he said, trying a small smile. "No hugs then." He was still holding the handkerchief that he'd pulled out, even though she had batted it away. "I have a bunch of these," he said, letting the cloth dangle from his fingers. "And I swear this one's clean. Yours if you want it."

He let his other arm, the one she was holding, drift slowly toward the ground. "We should probably get you home. Would you like a hand up?"

Despite the fact that she had repeatedly turned down his assistance, Henry couldn't help but offer. It was still buried in his system; politeness seemed to be programmed into his very existence. And in the face of helping someone else, his own problems had faded into the background, a much smaller issue. When did a ruler have time for their own problems, anyway, when there were other people to think of?

[Megara Argyris]

Meg rolled her eyes and glared at him when he waved the piece of cloth in her face for a second time. She figured if she stared at him long enough with a look of death he might just get the hint without her having to utter another word. To be honest, she wasn't sure if she could utter another word. Now that she'd calmed down she realized she was nothing short of exhausted. He whole body felt like a lead brick. All she wanted to do was lay down for a while, but, unfortunately, they were in the middle of a garden. She was convinced that she'd fall asleep if she laid her head down for too long and it was an arguably bad idea to spend the night out here. Meg didn't know this place very well and, if it was anything like Thebes, she'd be robed and killed before she ever saw the light of the morning. Well...Meg couldn't die and she was completely broke, but the point was she rather not have to deal with a mugger. Not to mention getting stabbed still hurt weather she was immortal or not.

It wasn't until Henry lowered his hand that Meg realized she was still clinging to his wrist. She let go imminently, but felt herself fall back a bit without his support. It was a chore to even move in the state she was in. Normally she would have pushed his hand away and added some kind of vicious remark for good measure, but she was in a pickle here. She needed to get home, but she wasn't going to be able to do that by herself. Begrudgingly she had to admit that Henry had done nothing except try to help her after his breakdown in the beginning of there conversation. Hades wasn't here to flash her back to hell when she got too weak, or he just wasn't going to, whatever the case might be. She was stuck and had no choice. Just this once, just this once she would have to allow herself to be helped by someone else. Not just someone else, but a man. Meg thought she might be sick so she raised a hand to garb his before she could think the better of it.

Just this once, kid. She whispered as she looked up at him with a determined expression.

[Henry Charmant]

All right, so she didn't want the handkerchief. Henry stuffed it back in his pocket. No one could say he hadn't tried. Perhaps not everyone liked using handkerchiefs here? Maybe they just didn't know what to do with them in hell. Well it was hardly time for a lesson.

When she almost fell letting go of his wrist, he started forward to try to catch her. But she managed to stay up on her own, which was probably for the best, since Henry wasn't really sure that she would have wanted him to catch her anyway.

With a smile, he stood, took her hand, and pulled her to her feet. "Can you stand on your own or...?" He didn't think that she would much appreciate being completely carried to her door, but she also didn't look very capable of getting there herself. "You can lean on me, if you need to." He held his arm out for her to grab onto, but if she looked like she was falling, he might need to put her arm over his shoulder. "All right, where do you need to get to?"

As they began moving, he said, without looking at her, "By the way, I don't think I ever mentioned. My name is Henry."

[Megara Argyris]

She rolled her eyes and scowled at his stupid smile, but was silently grateful for his ability to keep her from falling over. Still, she let go of his hand as soon as she was on her feet. She could stand alright, but her leg's did feel like warm gelatin. It was not only emotionally exhausting to go through a fit like she did, but physically as well. Especially if you struggled as hard as Meg does to hide the embarrassing event. She kept her knees bent slightly, fearing she might pass out if she locked them, but she forced her flimsy feeling arms to move about so she could brush herself off as though nothing had happened. She kept a stone expression on her face, the occasional flexing of her jaw the only sign of stress in her face. She had to focus so much on her breathing and keeping herself upright, that it took her a few long moments to muster enough energy to vocalize a response to his question.

I'm fine. she said, as clearly and forcefully as possible. This was likely the most common lie she spoke, though she was usually in a better state to sell it. Still, she forced on him a determined glare and began to take a few steps forward. Within moments, Meg new her balance wasn't go to hold out. She didn't fall or stagger, but stopped calmly before any such things could occur. With a sour expression, Meg pushed her lips together tightly and took Henry's arm. Even though she had initiated the touch, she felt an uncomfortable shiver run up her spine due to her unwillingness to cling to him like some poor damsel. This was disgusting, maybe she should just crawl home instead, or pass out right here.

Nine. She said instead House nine.

[Henry Charmant]

She certainly didn't look fine, but Henry didn't argue. He let her try to keep her balance on her own and didn't say anything when she had to take his arm. She seemed very interested in keeping her distance, so Henry kept his arm out at an angle, which was more awkward but seemed more appropriate. He was suddenly incredibly grateful for all his time fencing and the increased upper body strength.

He nodded once and looked around at the houses. He spotted his own and counted down four. The house was indistinguishable from the others; somehow he'd almost expected some sign of difference, something to show that someone who had just escaped from hell was living there. Apparently appearances could be deceiving. He slowly began stepping toward the house, going slow enough to make sure that she could keep up, with a pause after every small step.

No one else appeared to be around, but Henry kept an eye out. He didn't want anyone to see them and wonder what was going on. The last thing they needed was more people to join this already awkward situation.

He had no idea what to say, so he stayed silent all the way up to her house. Once they were there, he said, "I'm guessing you don't want me to help you inside?" He would never have imagined offering to take her to her bedroom. That would have been exceedingly inappropriate. Walking a lady to the door was proper, but any further than that required an express invitation and in some cases a wedding vow.

"I live in house five. If you need help or...or whatever." If you want to avoid me forever. "That's where I live. I wish you the best of luck." He winced. What a horrible good-bye.