Memory

It's My Fault Again

What do y'all think is going on with Rowan? I'm not sure if I made it obvious or not but I hope I didn't!

Also, instead of a song, I have put a vine today

Because it is GOLD

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"I don't think I can go back to sleep. And you were trying to tell me something before you fell asleep. What was it?"

"I--" But I can still see the pain lingering in his eyes. Is now the best time to tell him? I don't know if I should keep this from him, especially since he was involved in the bargain I made. "I made a deal. When you died."

He stills completely, shock and anger and fear in his eyes now. "What did you do."

It's not a question.

"I--" I gulp. "Made a deal that if I got Hela some things, she would bring you back."

"What things."

I begin, and the guilt hits. For giving away the ring. "I--She said if I gave her the Tesseract and the ring you gave me--" The worry and terror on his face intensifies, with a hint of anger. "She said if I got those things for her, you would come back."

"I should have told you," he shakes his head bitterly. "What that ring was. Maybe then you wouldn't have been so stupid."

That strikes hurt deep in me, but my curiosity grows yet. "And I'm so sorry for giving it away, but I would have burned the world down if it meant you would come back. And even if it does, if it means you're back, I don't regret anything else. What was that ring?"

"It doesn't matter anymore if you regret it. It doesn't matter what it was," he shakes his head again savagely. "It's too late."

"Rowan--" I reach for him.

He pushes off my hand and gets out of the blankets. "I'm going to the bathroom." His voice is cold.

I don't know where I did it; I don't know when; all I know is I fucked up.

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Rowan's taking a shower while I curl up in the blankets, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to sleep.

Tears find their way out of the corners of my eyes, even as I try not to cry.

I curl up into a tighter ball. It all feels so... empty.

Like something's missing.

It could be that I'm still not completely alive.

But it feels like something else.

Maybe it's the guilt. Maybe it's because I messed up so bad and fucked everything up, even though I don't know what exactly it is I did.

Under all these blankets...

It feels so cramped in here.

My throat dries up.

This feels like a cage.