Lower Than Deep

Episode 87 - Just because the video has cut off doesn't mean that the scene in the den ends.

The camera kept on rolling; Lydia's tears and sobs kept on coming and Lizzie couldn't bring herself to let go of her broken little sister to even turn off the machine that was documenting every single second of her breakdown. She couldn't even remind herself that the camera was still on, and that if this whole fiasco has taught them anything, it was that moments like these should never be caught on tape. The only thing that she could think about now was how Lydia was holding onto her like a drowning woman holding on to a lifeline, as awfully clichéd as that expression was. Lizzie couldn't remember the last time Lydia had cried like this, or when she had so unreservedly let Lizzie see so much of herself. Never until now did Lizzie realised how they always both tended to go to Jane for comfort, rather than each other. But Lydia needed Lizzie now, as much as she needed Jane, and Lizzie would not let go of her for the world, not when apparently the world (or at least a part of it) already chose to blame her sister for having her heart trampled on.

She remembered a time when Lydia would bounce into her room, demand to appear on her video blogs and relishing every second, so sure that she would be the highlight of every episode she appeared in. Lydia had always said then that if Lizzie ever stopped vlogging, it would her that the audience missed, not nerdy, pathetically perpetually-single Lizzie. Where was that girl now, where and how did Lizzie lose her along the way? The emptiness inside her that followed the question was in some ways even more biting than Lydia's continued sobs, because, oh god, why didn't Lizzie know? Shouldn't she know? It was her video blog, after all.

Lizzie wasn't sure how much time had passed, but at some point, Jane slipped into the room and turned off the camera, before sitting down on Lydia's other side, wrapping her arms around them both. She supposed if anyone looked in now, they would only see a mass of red hair of various shades connected to torsos and arms. Lydia would be barely visible, with her face still hidden in the crook of Lizzie's arm like she was afraid to face the world, as if the internet could come out of Lizzie's camera and yell at her some more.

Lizzie didn't want to know how much of what Lydia recited just then were actual messages sent to her from their viewers on the internet. She didn't want to consider how many of her own hundred-fifty-odd thousands subscribers who watched her pour her heart out every week were now looking back at her and her sister, tutting and wagging their fingers. To consider it would be admitting to herself that all this time, she, too, had trusted intimate parts of her life and heart to those who she thought she could trust, and in the end, apparently at least some of them never realised that it was her life and heart being displayed. Perhaps to those people, it was all just a farcical display being laid out for their entertainment and they were free to lay judgement based on barely ten minutes of edited footage every week.

She wasn't sure why this ever felt like a good idea when it all began.

Lizzie wasn't sure where Mom was, but it was a blessed, if selfish, relief that she wasn't home. She wasn't sure either she or Jane was up to telling Mom why they were all in tears in the den. She knew it was unfair of them all to keep it all a secret from Mom, but these past days, she told herself that at least she could spare one of her family the pain and that was a good thing.

Lydia cried until she just stopped, but still for a long time, the three of the sat there in the silence of the empty house. Lydia laid her head on Lizzie's shoulder, still clutching her hand like a lost child. Jane held Lydia's other hand and rubbed her back in soothing circles, muttering comfort against her hair. Lizzie wasn't even sure it was a good thing that the tears have subsided, because this silent Lydia scared her even more than Lydia breaking down.

When Dad came home from work, Lydia had gone upstairs and locked herself in her room again. Even Jane couldn't coax her into opening the door again, though even if she could, Lizzie didn't think any amount of tea could help Lydia.

Lizzie paced outside Lydia's door for half an hour before Jane convinced her to stop. Having nothing else to do, Lizzie turned instead to the camera, which had never looked more predatory. She extracted the raw footage from the camera and stared at the files on her laptop for a full ten minutes before sending them off to Charlotte unedited with a message.

Char –

I love you.

I don't say it enough to Lydia and I don't say it enough to you either. Maybe there's no enough. But it's stupid that it takes something like this for me to realise it.

I can't watch even a second of this again. Just take whatever that makes a coherent video. Sorry for dumping this on you, but I just can't do it.

Let me know if you want me to go over and hug Maria for you. Or maybe I just will. (As I said, it's stupid that it takes something like this. Or maybe you already do a better job than me at letting your sister know she's appreciated. But just tell her again anyway, yeah? Just in case. There is no enough, after all.I certainly have learnt the lesson.)

-L

Charlotte called her half an hour later.

"Oh Lizzie."

Lizzie didn't realise just how much she needed to hear Charlotte's voice and how much she longed for her comfort until just then. And she only got as far in answering as "Char – " before the tears came again. It seemed so selfish, so self-indulgent, to cry to Charlotte about her own sense of helplessness, to wallow on how much it hurt that she couldn't do anything to help Lydia, when Lydia's hurt was a thousand times worst. But how could she even begin to help Lydia if she didn't get her own feelings under control?

So to Charlotte, she said all the things she couldn't say to the camera, or even to Jane for fear of overwhelming her older sister. And Charlotte, dear Charlotte, let her talk without interruption, until Lizzie ran out of words to say.

"And how, how, could Lydia think that any of this is her fault or that she deserves it? If it's anyone's fault - "

"It's George Wickham's," Charlotte finally cut in firmly. "Don't, Lizzie, don't blame yourself either. You couldn't have forseen the future. You didn't wish this on Lydia. You can't convince Lydia it's not her fault unless you lay blame where it should be laid, and that's at George's door."

"If I could find his door, I wouldn't just lay the blame. I'd kick it down and - oh, what's the use? I've been thinking of all these things I'd like to do to him, but the truth is, we're not getting anywhere with finding him."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know." It still terrified Lizzie to admit that, but what else could she do now but face the plain truth for what it was? "Besides, Lydia's right, that doesn't even matter as much as the fact that she trusted him and he broke that trust in the grossest way. And for what? That's why I don't understand, Charlotte. Why's he doing this?"

She heard Charlotte sigh into the phone. "I wish I could answer that."

There was a prolonged silence on the line, when neither of them really knew where they were supposed to move on to from here. Of all the silences that had ever existed between her and Charlotte, this felt the most heartbreaking. It was something akin to mourning, because they both knew, even if neither of them acknowledged it, that it didn't matter what would happen in the coming week, Lydia would always be permanently altered by it all. As much as Lizzie had once hoped for her sister to change her ways, she was sure this wasn't quite what she meant.

"Lizzie, do you want me to do anything with the footage? We can just not post a video. You've been too busy to post before and I don't think anyone could blame you – "

"No, post it. Lydia wants to."

"Sweetie, I don't think Lydia was quite...rational. You know magic fixes exist as much as magic tea does. You don't owe them every single moment of your life."

"I know. But it's not about that. At the moment, I can't see anything changing, and the things...the things people say would only get worst, Charlotte. If nothing, I hope that seeing her like this might show the viewers how much she's hurting and hopefully they will back off of her."

The truth was, despite leaving the camera on by Lydia's request, Lizzie didn't intend to post any of this at all. But even after she'd stopped crying, Lydia insisted. Lizzie couldn't quite convince herself it was the wisest thing to do, but somehow, Lydia thought that since in less than three days, footage of her at her most off-guard would be released without her permission anyway, she might as well take control of the releasing of this other moment of weakness. As if somehow it was supposed to prove something. What that something was, Lizzie didn't know and Lydia couldn't say.

She wasn't naive enough to think that even after this video, everyone on the internet would be nice and supportive, and she knew there will always be those who will say hurtful things regardless. At times like this, the internet was the opposite of a security blanket. But considering everything that's happened on both her and Lydia's videos, what was one more thing? If they were laying out her life for strangers to see and watch, they might as well get it all, and perhaps, just perhaps, some might even begin to see her and her sisters as human, not just characters in a story. It wasn't a lie when she said in that first video that "this is my life".

A/N: I started this thinking it would be longer and intending to do different things. But in the end it sort of got away from me and I end up with a case of "my thoughts are stars I can't fathom into constellations". Let's just say I have too many things to say about this episode and this is just some of it.

Title from the lyrics of the song Twilight Galaxy by Metric.