"Why would I laugh! That means a lot to me, jackass!" He nudges her. "We always had nicknames. The fact that we could keep doing that after you changed your name, the fact that you let me pick what to call you, it made me feel really connected to you. I was afraid that you transitioning would--- make us too different? I dunno why. Kid thoughts, I guess. But after that, it felt like it was totally the opposite."
There's a brief flash of surprise at that admission of old worry—not hurt, not offence, at least not in any notable way, just... surprise. Because she never even realised. From the second she told him, he was always the one who made the strongest effort, who got it right the fastest. He got it. From the second he christened her Tasha and Tash, it always felt like he got it, and she had never been more grateful for anything in her life.
The only sign she can even think of of that worry is—
"...you were kinda surprised I didn't pick something that matched, huh," she muses. Even then he'd clearly not meant her to notice, only explained when she asked. "Man. I didn't even... you hid that pretty damn well. I had no idea. Guess it helped I let you pick right away. And— I dunno, I was never gonna do it differently. I never even thought about telling anyone else first. S'like I said. You've always been the most important. Y'know? ...not matching was never about— you. Y'know? It was about me. And... other people."
"I know." He gives back half a smile. "It kinda stung at first that you didn't pick something with a D, but it was kinda tacky our parents did that in the first place. Heh."
There's a pause, tentative, as he picks his next words.
"There was kind of another thing I wanted to ask you about, though. Uh." Hemming and hawing a little before just spitting it out. "...Do you think we could--- not do the whole, 'being lumped together sucks so bad' thing? I get what you mean, but it's still hard to hear."
Her head tilts up a little even there against his shoulder, waiting for him to find his words again, then, the second he has— "Right, shit, yeah, no, uh— yeah, yeah, fuck, of course. Shit, Di, I'm... I'm really fucking sorry, I swear, I never knew how bad that was messing with you. I never meant it like that. I— thought I was bitching with you, I guess, and... never noticed how fucking wrong I was."
Never clocked his comparative silence, the way he might nod along or reassure but never really share the same sentiments. Obvious, in hindsight, but... guess she's always been a little too self-centred.
"But it was never about you. It's like I said in the stupid dream, I... I had this stupid idea in my head about having to prove some shit and everyone around us was always so..." She grunts, biting her tongue, rolls her head to press her face against his shoulder again. Don't do the exact thing he's asking you to stop. "...you already know. I don't have to explain. And I'll stop saying that shit. I never wanted to make you feel like I hated being your twin. I don't. I don't."
No matter how much she hates the way people treat her, treat them, she can't hate being connected to him. She can't hate him.
"Yeah, no, I get it," he assures her, holding up a hand in a gesture of reassurance. "People put a lot of comparison on us, and as a result, a lot of pressure got put on us. Especially you. The comparisons weren't fair, and being lumped together was often part of that. But... at the end of the day, I love being a matched set with you, y'know? I just... wanna feel like you do, too. I don't want to be part of your burden."
That's what he'd meant, when he described himself as South's cross to bear. A shadow for her to be obscured by, an unattainable goal, a burden. He doesn't want to be that. He's only ever wanted to lift her up, not weigh her down.
When she turns to lean on him again, he lifts a hand to scratch the top of her head. "...It's less like that here anyway, isn't it? You and your job, you're there by your own merit, helping people. It's good. I'm proud of you."
She exhales a quiet, content breath, settling easily in place with no intention of moving again any time soon. (It never gets less validating to hear the words I'm proud.) "Yeah, it's... it's been better here. Way better. Feels like we're almost fuckin'... free."
No more military records following them around. No more pre-made assumptions from people that don't really know them. Aside from that whole stupid thing with that cop woman, people have... actually been pretty damn nice? Less judgey. Less weirdness. More than that, they are finding their own places, in town, without having to pull away from the other to do it, and that's... that helps, that's good.
And still, she's not quite used to it, her nervous system still trained to be on alert for signs of it happening again.
"...I do like being part of a matched set when it's— when we're choosing it. Y'know? I guess that was... was hard, after everything, I don't know, but. Fuck. I'm choosing it now. Okay? I'm choosing it now."
This is a second chance. They can do things better now. They can do things on their terms, be them on their terms. And she wants that. She wants that so fucking bad.
"Good. 'Cause I'll never say no to being matched up with you. Partners in crime 'till the end, got it?" He offers her a fist-bump. "We don't need the matching names anyways. We're color-coded."
She snorts a laugh, a release valve in the lingering, heavy emotions. God, she's so fucking relieved this has gone... like this.
"Damn right we are," she says, bumping her fist against his in that too-hard way she does. Always has to be a pest. "And luckily for us I have great fuckin' taste in favourite colours."
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There's a brief flash of surprise at that admission of old worry—not hurt, not offence, at least not in any notable way, just... surprise. Because she never even realised. From the second she told him, he was always the one who made the strongest effort, who got it right the fastest. He got it. From the second he christened her Tasha and Tash, it always felt like he got it, and she had never been more grateful for anything in her life.
The only sign she can even think of of that worry is—
"...you were kinda surprised I didn't pick something that matched, huh," she muses. Even then he'd clearly not meant her to notice, only explained when she asked. "Man. I didn't even... you hid that pretty damn well. I had no idea. Guess it helped I let you pick right away. And— I dunno, I was never gonna do it differently. I never even thought about telling anyone else first. S'like I said. You've always been the most important. Y'know? ...not matching was never about— you. Y'know? It was about me. And... other people."
no subject
There's a pause, tentative, as he picks his next words.
"There was kind of another thing I wanted to ask you about, though. Uh." Hemming and hawing a little before just spitting it out. "...Do you think we could--- not do the whole, 'being lumped together sucks so bad' thing? I get what you mean, but it's still hard to hear."
no subject
Her head tilts up a little even there against his shoulder, waiting for him to find his words again, then, the second he has— "Right, shit, yeah, no, uh— yeah, yeah, fuck, of course. Shit, Di, I'm... I'm really fucking sorry, I swear, I never knew how bad that was messing with you. I never meant it like that. I— thought I was bitching with you, I guess, and... never noticed how fucking wrong I was."
Never clocked his comparative silence, the way he might nod along or reassure but never really share the same sentiments. Obvious, in hindsight, but... guess she's always been a little too self-centred.
"But it was never about you. It's like I said in the stupid dream, I... I had this stupid idea in my head about having to prove some shit and everyone around us was always so..." She grunts, biting her tongue, rolls her head to press her face against his shoulder again. Don't do the exact thing he's asking you to stop. "...you already know. I don't have to explain. And I'll stop saying that shit. I never wanted to make you feel like I hated being your twin. I don't. I don't."
No matter how much she hates the way people treat her, treat them, she can't hate being connected to him. She can't hate him.
no subject
That's what he'd meant, when he described himself as South's cross to bear. A shadow for her to be obscured by, an unattainable goal, a burden. He doesn't want to be that. He's only ever wanted to lift her up, not weigh her down.
When she turns to lean on him again, he lifts a hand to scratch the top of her head. "...It's less like that here anyway, isn't it? You and your job, you're there by your own merit, helping people. It's good. I'm proud of you."
no subject
She exhales a quiet, content breath, settling easily in place with no intention of moving again any time soon. (It never gets less validating to hear the words I'm proud.) "Yeah, it's... it's been better here. Way better. Feels like we're almost fuckin'... free."
No more military records following them around. No more pre-made assumptions from people that don't really know them. Aside from that whole stupid thing with that cop woman, people have... actually been pretty damn nice? Less judgey. Less weirdness. More than that, they are finding their own places, in town, without having to pull away from the other to do it, and that's... that helps, that's good.
And still, she's not quite used to it, her nervous system still trained to be on alert for signs of it happening again.
"...I do like being part of a matched set when it's— when we're choosing it. Y'know? I guess that was... was hard, after everything, I don't know, but. Fuck. I'm choosing it now. Okay? I'm choosing it now."
This is a second chance. They can do things better now. They can do things on their terms, be them on their terms. And she wants that. She wants that so fucking bad.
no subject
no subject
She snorts a laugh, a release valve in the lingering, heavy emotions. God, she's so fucking relieved this has gone... like this.
"Damn right we are," she says, bumping her fist against his in that too-hard way she does. Always has to be a pest. "And luckily for us I have great fuckin' taste in favourite colours."