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“Is Everything Okay?”
As much as she didn’t think her distress was particularly hidden, Rose was still thankful that Kanaya could see it. The whole openness and vulnerability thing was taking some getting used to, but she was learning that, with Kanaya, being known didn’t always feel like such a mortifying ordeal. In fact, she was becoming rather fond of how it felt.
“No, not really.”
She wanted to elaborate but couldn’t bring herself to, couldn’t convince herself that she was allowed to share without being asked to. Being around people who cared about her feelings was still something of a novel experience.
“Do You Want To Talk About It?”
Desperately, but she couldn’t say that. It was important not to sound too needy, too reliant on Kanaya’s support. That sort of weakness could lose her it entirely.
“I think that might be wise,” she replied instead, “talking things through can bring clarity to a situation.” It sounded needlessly pretentious, even to her own ears, but she had it on good authority that Kanaya didn’t mind, even liked that about her.
“Alright.” Kanaya tapped one of Rose’s feet, and she lifted them out of the way, allowing her to sit on the sofa she was sprawled across. “What’s Wrong?”
Rose truly didn’t know where to start. It felt like so much was, like her entire mind was in turmoil. Still, she needed to start somewhere. “All of my friends are breaking under the strain of everything they’ve gone through these past few years, and I’m the only one who can hold them together, but I think I might be breaking too, and I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
Kanaya’s brow furrowed in concern. “Darling, Why Do You Think You’re The Only One Who Can Help Them?” It felt like she was being psychoanalysed and every molecule in her body yearned to flee from it, but Rose grit her metaphorical teeth and remained on the sofa. She trusted Kanaya, knew she was only trying to help.
“That’s how it’s been as long as I’ve known them. Jade had been alone for so long before we all met. John may as well have been, as emotionally distant as his father was. And Dave...” She trailed off, not sure how to even describe Dave’s mess of an upbringing. “They all needed help, and I could do help. They all still do, and I need to be able to keep providing.”
The worst thing about psychoanalysis, Rose had decided, was being unable to stop analysing herself. Thoughts of how much she'd needed them raced through her mind, her ever-present mocking internal monologue reminding her how she'd hidden from her own terrible home life in the words of three internet strangers. She wasn't sure they'd keep her around if she stopped being helpful, and wasn’t willing to risk finding out.
At least Kanaya wasn’t analysing her even half as viciously as she was herself. She didn't think she could have coped with that. “Are You Emotions Focussed Or Solutions Focussed?” That was one Rose had taught her, and seeing her ideas put into practice briefly filled her chest with warmth.
“If you can see a solution, I’d like to hear it, but I may not want to hear it.” Despite the contradiction in her words, Kanaya nodded understandingly.
“Can We Get Your Friends Other Support To Take Some Of The Weight Off You?” Something in Rose, not even particularly far below the surface, wanted to scream ‘no’ to that. She couldn't risk becoming useless to them, that's how she’d lose them entirely.
“That makes sense,” she said aloud, doing her best to ignore the toxic urge to keep them reliant on her so she’d feel secure. She should tell Kanaya about those feelings, she knew, but if she stopped hiding the darkest parts of herself, Kanaya would see what a terrible person she actually was. “But I don’t know if I can bear it.” It was as close as she could get to admitting the truth.
“Your Friends Are Not Just Your Friends For The Help You Can Provide Them.” She internally cursed Kanaya for being able to see through her that easily. “Do You Really Think So Badly Of Them?” That was, unignorably, psychoanalysis, but Rose was too busy being hit round the head by it like a tonne of bricks to think about that.
God, Kanaya was right. These were her friends. She knew them probably better than they knew themselves. Did she have any reason to actually think they would abandon her if she stopped being their only support?
Was she even still their only support, or had that changed with her too caught up in her own head to notice?
That last thought burst the dam, and before she could stop herself, Rose was sobbing uncontrollably. She could feel Kanaya shuffling her around, moving until she could hold Rose in her arms, but it was distant, as if she was underwater.
Now that she’d realised it, she couldn’t take it back. Her friends had grown as people and found other support in the trolls, just as she herself had. And they had stayed friends with her. She could feel her sense of self wavering as she tried to hold the two contradictory worlds in her head, the one she'd feared, and the reality that had taken place.
They could still leave, she supposed, especially if they hadn’t yet realised their newfound support systems. It was the best she could do, inventing a world where both her fears and reality could coexist. She wasn't ready to let go of either, and so had to find a way to hold both.
With that sorted as well as it was going to be any time soon, she went back to acknowledging she has a body. She was still crying, didn't know how to stop, the pain of the realisation worse than any physical wound. “They don’t need me anymore, do they?” she forced out between sobs.
“Yes And No.” Ordinarily, that would have been enough for Rose to know what she meant, but out of it as she was, she needed more. “They Aren’t Exclusively Reliant On You, But That Doesn’t Mean You Aren’t Still Doing A Lot For Them. But I Think You’re Missing The Point A Bit, My Love. It Doesn’t Matter If They Need You Around. They Want It.”
Her tears slowed a bit at that. It didn't feel like Kanaya was making any of it up to appease her. Even if it was less than before, she was still needed. That was tolerable.
She didn't know how to explain to Kanaya that she wasn't sure yet if her friends just wanting her company was good enough. She was going to have to work it out soon, though, because needing to be needed wasn’t going too great for her.
Once she collected herself, she was going to be embarrassed by this outburst, she knew, and insist they pretend it had never happened. For now, though, she was content so curl into Kanaya’s chest, allowing herself to be rocked back and forth softly.
“You won’t tell anyone?” She knew the answer, knew her partner was trustworthy, but still needed to hear it.
“No, Of Course Not.” The rocking continued for another while before Kanaya spoke again. “We Really Should Work Out How To Ease The Strain You’re Under, Even If It Is Party Self-Imposed.” From the lips of anyone else, that would have felt like an attack, and she’d have reacted as such, but from Kanaya, it was sincere concern.
Rose’s phone buzzed. A message from Dave. She hesitated, scared despite all logic that he'd have realised she wasn't worth the time. Still, she opened it. It was a particularly dumb meme, even for him.
Kanaya watched over her shoulder as she tapped out a scathing review of his meme, rating on some multi-scale system that was clearly a long-running joke. For someone as smart as she was, Rose was incredibly stupid when it came to herself. She hoped that one day, her partner would come to realise that she had value as a person, not just from the services she provided.
Until then, Kanaya was going to be there reminding her of what she wasn’t ready to believe. Really, she thought, wasn’t that the point of love?