librariansheart: (Depressed)
[personal profile] librariansheart posting in [community profile] woodbetweenworlds
Sheska hasn't really been back to her own apartment in... well, since about the twentieth of March or so. That was when she'd started staying the night on Koizumi and S-- ...on Sirius' couch. But she hadn't done much other than eat and sleep at her apartment since the twelfth. Nearly a full month, then. Her roommate must think she's avoiding the place. She couldn't bring herself to care.

One thing after another... Nothing had gone well for so long. She had ruined things between herself and the Once-ler one too many times, dragged her friends through her nightmares, completely missed the release list and Itsuki's distress... She'd had to be told, had to be instructed to take time out and go make sure he was all right. What kind of friend wouldn't notice something so fundamentally wrong? She hadn't been able to bring him up out of his depression, and then the volcano exploded and she lost track - lost track! - of him. True, she'd been trying to help other people, but... she'd abandoned her post. She should have taken him with her. Tried to give him things to do. But she hadn't.

At least at that point she'd started staying over at their apartment. Trying to keep a closer eye on him. Getting him up and doing things. But it wasn't enough. Of course it wasn't.

Taking a breath, she pulled out her keys and fitted it into the lock, letting herself quietly in. Ramona was out. Maybe that was for the best.

Then last weekend had arrived and everything... A pile of rags - the remnants of the clothes that barely deserved the name - sat beside her trashcan, turning her stomach with their presence. She'd become a parody of her desires, broadcasting her need for physical contact and public affirmation. She'd hit on what must have been every male in New Moore, thrown herself at her closest friends, rebuffed their concerns and taken advantage of Itsuki's reckless change of mood for her own gain. It just made it worse, knowing that the only reason he had come to her was because he'd lost Aqua.

A shudder of revulsion shook her and Sheska swayed, making it to the bed before falling onto the coverlet. The ceiling swam overhead and she shut it out. Keeping food down the last few days had been a challenge. Everything tasted like ash and she was never hungry. Sleep, of course, was virtually non-existent. Every time she fell asleep, the nightmares began and she'd jerk awake. She'd left her few bottles of... of potion here, and now...

Itsuki was in the hospital. Had been since they'd returned to themselves on Tuesday. They weren't sure when he'd be released. She had been the one to find him, the knife still in his hand, wrists laid bare nearly to the bone, on his kitchen floor. She'd thought she was dreaming. But he'd been alive. He hadn't spoken to her. She'd thought it had been all her fault... Selfish. The paramedics had been in time. He was safe. For now. The nurses had let her stay in the waiting room, let her see him when he'd stabilized.

She hadn't even thought to let... to let Sirius know. And now she never would.

Nausea pulled at her as she forced herself upright. The release list had come out today. Aqua, Sarah, Rogue, Natasha... R, Rudy, James... Sirius. All gone. Released to who knows where. Gone.

Sheska had kept it together all day, calling her few remaining friends, making sure they were all right, checking on Koizumi, staying with him for a while, visiting Dave. She hadn't once cried. She hadn't exactly been as calm as she would have liked, but she hadn't cried. Hadn't been too much more of a burden on them.

She couldn't stay at the hospital again. And she couldn't go back to... to the other... No. She couldn't go back there. Not with it so empty and holding so many bad memories. So she'd come here. The only place she could go where she could let herself cry. Sirius' picture smiled and waved, ducking out from under the hat Rudy had given her that hung from the corner of the frame.

Calm, exhausted, finally in a safe place, as much as any place on this island was safe, Sheska took a deep breath and waited for the break down to come. Her old-fashioned alarm clock ticked loudly in the silence. Her breathing remained steady. She always cried. When Mr. Hughes had left, she'd cried. When Kate had left, she'd cried. When the Avengers had gone, she had cried. And now... now the tears wouldn't come.

Sirius... Where would he go? Did he go home? Back to that horrible past to wait... to wait ten years in a prison that steadily ate all the good memories you ever had? Back to a world where his best friends had been betrayed and killed by a friend, and where another thought he was the murderer?

Her hands clenched on the edge of the bed. Would he even remember that he'd been here? Her head hung low as she stared at the floor, waiting for the burning sting of tears. If he came back, he wouldn't. It never would have happened. She would be just another weird girl who wanted to get to know him for the pretty face they'd all wanted him for in school. He wouldn't know what it would mean to her to see him alive and well again.

Slipping off the bed, she reached a steady hand for her trashcan and pulled it close. If Sirius could remember this back at home, would it be happy enough to draw the dementors? Or would he curse it? Maybe it was too bleak, too bitter, memories of this place. Trapped, unable to do anything to help at home, unable to revenge himself on the traitor, making friends, only to have them ripped away arbitrarily, having yourself forcibly changed something - someone - totally different. Maybe he would think of this place and laugh, glad to be free of it, of her, if only because home was real.

And if they'd killed him... If they'd killed...

At least he wouldn't have to live with the anguish that had haunted him for so long.

Sheska took out the garbage, a sip of water helping to wash the acrid taste of bile from her mouth before she retreated back to her sanctum and lay down again. It hurt, oh it hurt, to think of him - that flashing grin, the toss of his hair, the way his eyes sparkled when he was up to mischief, the way he would always come over when she asked it of him, the feel of his fingers carding her hair to help her relax - but it seemed that she had cried herself out. She had nothing left to give in his memory.

Just an empty shell.
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