Identity Crisis

Not Alone

Tara woke up from a restless sleep with a stale taste in her mouth. She looked up, surprised to find that the wind no longer slapped sharply against her face. They had landed.

"Gar?" she rolled over and reached for the sleeping green figure lying next to her, "Gar wake up."

"What?" he groaned as he rolled over, squinting at the light of the setting sun.

"Get up," she whispered, helping him to sit up next to her, "Where are we?"

Gar blinked as he glanced around, his eyes still adjusting to the light. This place... it was so many things at once, he didn't know what to call it. It was the best; it was the worst. It held some of his happiest and saddest memories.

This place- this place that was so important to him; it deserved all the right words to describe it, yet he found himself speechless.

"'it's..." he shook his head, trying to somehow find the right words, "Where everything started."

He stood up and walked a few feet away. He felt small in the fading shadow of the Ferris wheel, and he wondered if he could ever have controlled the events that transpired there. If things could have gone differently. Or was it all out of his control.

Being here; it just reminded him of how small he was. How much could he actually fix? How much of this was in his hands, and how much was out?

"Gar," he heard Tara's footsteps as she stepped up beside him, "Is this where—" she paused, "Where she- where I—"

"Yeah," he sighed, shaking his head, "This- it's where everything started, I guess," he reached for Tara's hand and squeezed it as tight as he could.

"I know, I'm supposed to fix it," he choked, "But I just- I messed up, so bad that night, I don't know if I can."

"Gar, it's not your mess to fix," Tara rested her hand on his cheek. Through his eyes, she could see that he had the weight of the word on his shoulder, or at least he felt that way. She knew the feeling, and she wanted to help.

She wanted to lift that weight and carry it for him; no, she needed to carry it with him, whereas before she might not have wanted to. What was a little responsibility to someone like Gar? Before this, she had thought him the most carefree person in the world. But he had problems, she could see that now, he felt guilt and fear and hope all weighing down ion him like a ton of bricks and he didn't let it stop him. He had a mess to clean up, a world to fix, and that was ok. All she wanted to do was share the weight, to fix it with him.

Gar shook his head, "I just made so many mistakes that night," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, "And everyone told me the same thing, 'It wasn't my fault,' but I can't believe that!"

"Gar you can't blame yourself for something that was—"

"Yes, I can!" he cut her off softly, "I have to. Because if I can't take the blame then who else can? If what happened wasn't my fault, if there was nothing, I could've done to stop it than what's the point? No matter what I do, bad things will happen anyway, and I don't want that! I want to know that I could've done something, even if it means I take the blame for not doing it. Because that means that I still can do something; I can change the outcome! But to do that I need to take the blame, Tara. I need to know it was my fault."

"it was both our faults," she interjected, sighing as she stared at her shoes, trying to find the right words, "Look, I don't know if I'm Tara or Terra or what. But what I do know is that the blame doesn't just rest on one man. We've made mistakes in the past, both of us, and if you say that that means taking the blame, then I'm with you all the way, but only if you let me take my responsibility too!"