Abigail Hobbs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
versusnurture) wrote2014-11-14 10:01 pm
versusnurture) wrote2014-11-14 10:01 pm
Entry tags:
- & at the end of it all,
- a predictable deterioration,
- ben & the blue lady,
- daddy's daughter,
- entropy which is,
- everything has to fall apart,
- i am a human monster,
- i won't ease your strain,
- i won't soothe your pain,
- lies of course,
- the final phenomenon of deterioration,
- we turn up the oh god all alone,
- when the creative energy ceases
twenty-two ♢ spam & voice & spam
spam } dillon
[Like rising through the very top layer of the ocean, which is sunny and hard to distinguish from air until you reach air and realize what all you've been missing. It's so bright and beautiful even in the dull light of her room once she opens her eyes that it makes her smile at first. Before she remembers.]
[And then she thinks, in the grand scheme of things, in the grand scheme it wasn't so bad. She's been done seen worse things, it isn't so terrible, it's not, it isn't. She's okay. She's been okay. She will keep being okay.]
[She's thinking this as she sits up, as she begins to whimper, as she claws at the blanket around her throat as if it's trying to suffocate her. A scream begins to bubble up in her chest; try as she might to smother it, she can't quite. It keeps trying to be names, Ben Hannibal Will Daddy, and then in the end it's nothing, just wordless crying. She claps her hands over her ear and the open space. Hear no evil, she thinks, and help me, but she's forgotten how to move.]
public } text
I heard there was a memorial. And it's over.
Is it over?
public } spam
[She's in the greenhouse, looking for rosehips.]
[This is insane and she knows it. Not just unwise, but insane. The smell of them makes her sick ever since, ever since, and the song makes her crazy, but she hums it anyway, because the memorial is over and she knows she's the only one mourning him. So she touches the flowers and looks for rosehips and mourns in flat silence.]
[Later, the same silence carries her to the chapel, where she sits in the back. She wishes there were raised seats, a hidden place, but this is what there is so this is what she takes. It's probably an awful thing to do, to pray to something that never was a god and that she never believed in for someone who never understood, but she does that anyway, too. For Ben, not for Hannibal. Even she would never pray for Hannibal.]
[Like rising through the very top layer of the ocean, which is sunny and hard to distinguish from air until you reach air and realize what all you've been missing. It's so bright and beautiful even in the dull light of her room once she opens her eyes that it makes her smile at first. Before she remembers.]
[And then she thinks, in the grand scheme of things, in the grand scheme it wasn't so bad. She's been done seen worse things, it isn't so terrible, it's not, it isn't. She's okay. She's been okay. She will keep being okay.]
[She's thinking this as she sits up, as she begins to whimper, as she claws at the blanket around her throat as if it's trying to suffocate her. A scream begins to bubble up in her chest; try as she might to smother it, she can't quite. It keeps trying to be names, Ben Hannibal Will Daddy, and then in the end it's nothing, just wordless crying. She claps her hands over her ear and the open space. Hear no evil, she thinks, and help me, but she's forgotten how to move.]
public } text
I heard there was a memorial. And it's over.
Is it over?
public } spam
[She's in the greenhouse, looking for rosehips.]
[This is insane and she knows it. Not just unwise, but insane. The smell of them makes her sick ever since, ever since, and the song makes her crazy, but she hums it anyway, because the memorial is over and she knows she's the only one mourning him. So she touches the flowers and looks for rosehips and mourns in flat silence.]
[Later, the same silence carries her to the chapel, where she sits in the back. She wishes there were raised seats, a hidden place, but this is what there is so this is what she takes. It's probably an awful thing to do, to pray to something that never was a god and that she never believed in for someone who never understood, but she does that anyway, too. For Ben, not for Hannibal. Even she would never pray for Hannibal.]
} spam
He's walking down from the deck, and he smells her. For a moment, he thinks his nose is confusing him, that it's in his head. But he inhales and he smells her shampoo, and he knows he's not making it up.
Scott takes it slow, opening the greenhouse door and easing in. When he spots her, he struggles not to just run up and hug her.]
Abigail?
no subject
[But it's only Scott. A relieved smile, then the icy shock sensation down her spine: she trusts him not to hurt her.]
[It's enough that she can hold herself back. She runs to him and throws her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tight with a wordless noise of joy. Her friend is here.]
no subject
I'm so glad you're up.
[He's so glad she slept through most of the worst.]
no subject
[This she says muffled into his shoulder. No, she wants to go back to sleep. Then she wants to wake up and not be alone anymore.]
[Really she isn't alone. But she feels so totally lost.]
no subject
He thinks about asking why, why she's not, but instead he swallows.]
He'll be back.
no subject
I've lost so many people I don't - I don't even know who you're talking about.
You can't go, okay? You just can't.
no subject
[He wonders who else is gone, he thinks about Jack, he thinks about Erica, and his whole stomach just twists horribly, then drops away.]
I guess you're right. [He meant Ben. Of course he meant Ben, but it feels like salt in the wound.]
I'm not going anywhere. I promise.
[Sometimes it's not their choice, but Scott refuses to let that factor in. He won't leave her.]
no subject
[She sniffles, grabbing onto Scott's arm in a desperate attempt to pin him down. This is hers, her friend. Nobody else can be taken away right now.]
Thank you. [She doesn't even know for what.]
no subject
It's gonna be okay.
no subject
You are Scott McCall because you're the kind of person who says that kind of thing and really believes it's true.
no subject
[There's a not of - he thinks it might be despair, and tells himself it's uncertainty. So he squeezes her a little tighter, and on impulse, kisses the side of her head.]
It has to be.
no subject
Do you have any brothers or sisters?
no subject
No. I mean, Stiles, he's practically my brother. But I was an only child.
no subject
Me, too.
I decided that I never wanted to have siblings, because it would be bad for them. But if I could, I'd want them to be like you.
no subject
I think you'd have been a good sister. [He just wishes she had a better family, or no father, or something. He'd have welcomed her into his family in a heartbeat.]
no subject
I wouldn't have. Not back then. I'd have been jealous and insecure and cruel. But maybe I would be now.
I know what family means, now. More than I did then, anyway.
no subject
You'd be a great sister, now. I bet I could stand sharing a bathroom with you.
no subject
You don't know that. I might take forever to do my hair.
[She super doesn't, though.]
no subject
That's okay I totally do.