Author Notes: Alright, I threw this together real quick, it's unbeta'd so the spelling/grammar errors are all my own. It was mostly written to satisfy some folks for some Carnivale Sofie/Libby fic. I know this isn't what they wanted, but it's the story that shouted the loudest at the time (I'm still trying to figure out why it desired to be told in a single person's point of view).
Feedback: We works for no money, so feedback would be muchly appreciated [email protected]
Spoilers: "Babylon", "Hot and Bothered", "Day that was the Day"
Summary: Basically it's a missing scene, and events told strictly from Libby's point of view, not much else really happens.
What do ya think? Let me know.
People are shouting, and I can't tell what, something about Sofie's bus. It's probably something trivial, and though I'm curious, I can't bare to have sympathy for her. For the first time I allowed my heart to be opened to someone, and she took the opportunity to plunge a knife into it. The pain from that action eclipsed the loss of the only sister I had, and that fact alone shocked me.
I had no idea that I could, or even DID, feel the way I do, and god, I still feel it, despite everything something about her pulls at my heart. It was so innocent at first, she was my friend, my only friend, and she cared. It was strange to have someone care about more than my body, outside of Daddy, I'm not sure anyone else has. Sure, Momma cares from time to time, but only when it suits her, and sometimes it's hard to believe that Momma's heart isn't made of stone. Momma, she's the reason I'm in this mess. If it hadn't been for her going around and sleeping with Jonesy then Sofie wouldn't have been angry. Of course, I probably wouldn't have been able to taste the sweetness of Sofie's lips if it hadn't been for Momma and Jonesy.
It's all so twisted, all so hard. I can't be angry at Jonesy because I know my mother, I know how tempting she can make things, how sweet she can seem, but it's hard to not be angry with him. If he had given Sofie just a little more time she might have jumped into his open arms. I lost count of how many times she talked my ear off about him. I hadn't realized how hard it was to smile until the days Sofie would ramble on about him, every word about him trampling over the good mood that had came over me almost as soon as she came over to me.
How could I have been so stupid? I should have known during those conversations what was going on. I should have known after what seemed like hours of talking about Jonesy, that her suggesting we dance together, and my heart practically jumping out of my chest was something that could be my doom. I should have known then I was falling for her.
Hell I should have known in Babylon I was falling for her. When we were dancing, and her body was so close to mine, close enough I could feel the heat from her body, close enough I could look right into those dark eyes and feel myself start to drown in them. The fact that I practically stuck my tongue out at Jonesy when he drunkenly tried to cut in should have told me something. So should the fact that I practically held my breath assuming Sofie would say yes.
The shouts are getting more insistent, maybe I should check that out, maybe it will be a way to get out my anger, or maybe it's someone pummeling Jonesy. Now that I'd like to see.
Ugh, Jonesy, I don't understand why she keeps running back to him. Can't she see that he is only in love with the idea of loving her? I wanted to tell her so many times just how foolish his obsession was, but I couldn't, because I knew deep down, Sofie relied on his puppy love. I can't blame her for it either, she wanted to feel normal, and who doesn't here; that's why I wanted to go to California.
That's why I wanted to go to California with her, I gotta quit fooling myself. I thought maybe if I could get rich, get famous, I could shower her with everything that she ever wanted, jewels, clothes ...love. I thought it would make her feel normal. But that wasn't to be, her momma was wrong, and we are both still stuck here, wanting things we can't have. And I still want her, and I still can't have her. I know why she did what she did, I saw it coming. I should have told her, knowing that a part of her heart was holding out for Jonesy. Why Jonesy would have a fling with Momma I will never understand, why he wouldn't hold out for Sofie I can't understand. I just want to scream to her that if he loved her as much as he says he does, as much as I think I do, he wouldn't have hidden, he would have waited.
The worst part is I'm not angry at her for setting me up. Sure, the humiliation stung, but I've been in more humiliating situations, it's part of being a cooch dancer. I'm angry that I allowed myself to feel her touch. I didn't distance myself like I do from the awkward grabs from calloused hands, or like I do from the sloppy kisses. That was all for money. No I'm angry that I felt every smooth touch as is trailed hot paths across my skin. I'm angry I felt the tender, but unknowing kisses as lips made their way across sensitive skin. I am angry she made me feel for the first time in my life.
A fire, so that's what it was all about. A raging fire, and Sofie's in there, at least that's what Jonesy thinks. I thought my heart was hurting a while ago, I thought it was crushed when Sofie set me up, but it's nothing compared to how it's breaking now. I can't do anything but watch as Jonesy runs in, and I'm sure he'll get Sofie, and she'll forgive him.
It feels like hours are going by while we wait for Jonesy. I can't see in the windows, I can't see if Sofie is in there, jumping into his heroic arms, showering him with kisses, forgiving him for everything that happened, and begging for his forgiveness. And he would forgive her, the same as I would forgive her, because by this point in time, I don't think my heart could live without her.
Here he comes, cradling something and he's shouting for water. I gotta leave here, I can't bare to know if the object of my affection is dead, but I also can't help but hear a faint, "She's dead�, as I make my retreat either.
She's dead. Two words, two very crushing words, two words that should be wiped out of the English language. I don't think I can handle those words anymore. I shouldn't have to hear those words anymore, twice in less than a year, both times being someone I've loved, it's too much for me to handle.
I guess that's why it's no surprise I end up here, at Sofie's truck. Even as painful as the memory of what just happened in the back of this truck was, the truck still held her essence. It was comfort. But who is in it? "Yer not supposed to be up there, you should get out and go help the others."
"Is Momma dead?"
No, it can't be. The soft tones can't be hers, "Sofie?"
"Is she?"
And there's the face that I never thought I'd see again, and I can't help but grin, because here she is, with me. Well not with me, but she's alive, and that's all I care about. "I think, Jonesy took someone out of yer bus, I think I heard 'em say she was dead."
She just nods, looking off into the distance, and I follow her gaze, looking out at the same stars we had kissed under only a few hours ago. I didn't realize she was staring at me until I turned back to look at her.
"I'm sorry, Libby. What I did...what I did was unforgivable, and I will understand if you don't want to forgive me."
I want to be strong, tell her damn right I don't want to forgive her, but I can't. The pain in her voice won't let me say it, all it does is force me in the truck right next to her, touching her, enjoying the warmth and knowledge that she isn't just a dream my broken heart made up. "It's ok. We all make mistakes, Sofie. It's if we learn from them that matters."
"I've learned a lot of things tonight, Libby. I think I have a purpose, but I don't want to go through it alone."
I think my heart might be crushing for the third time tonight. She doesn't want to go through it alone, so she must want Jonesy to be her rock. So I have to be her support. "I understand. I'll go get Jonesy, tell him yer here."
As I go to move her strong fingers weave into mine, and I know without looking the mistake I made. Soft lips touch mine, gently, asking for nothing more than the reassurance of life, of love. She doesn't want Jonesy, and she tells me so shortly after, and as the few hours till morning go by, she tells me many more things, some of which I'm sure I'll remember, but right now it's hard to keep everything straight. Mostly because I feel completely intoxicated by the strong fingers that won't seem to leave mine.
I can't be angry with her now, because now I know where her heart lies. So I won't be able to open it up to her completely like I did before for a while, that doesn't matter, what matters is she is alive, and she wants me. What more could a girl want?