[network] @ADMIN; Obituary [Day 142]

[snowblindmods]

We mourn the loss of those who have died in the time between the last announcement and this one:

Cloud Strife
Ecks
Royce Melborn
Shiro Fujimoto
Margaret Carter
Terezi Pyrope

Comments

[fifty]

[That's enough to remind America of Steve, who still isn't back.] I'm sorry. [He means it, even though it's kind of dumb to say. He's bad at knowing what to say about things like this on a good day.]

[keepscalm]

[What else is there to say, really? England can't fault America for his lack of eloquence.] Yeah. [Another breath, shaky this time as England's mind finally begins to whirl with guilt. He leans against America in turn without completely realising he does it.] So am I.

[Clever, kind, beautiful Peggy is dead. And he doesn't even know how it happened.]

[fifty]

[America touches England's elbow gently. He can't take England's hand right now, but he would if he could.] D'you wanna--take a break today, or whatever...?

[keepscalm]

[There has to be something England missed. Something he could have done. He should have gone to her when he saw Steve on the last obituary. If he'd been there...]

Might as well. We haven't got anything else to do, anyway.

[It's never a great sign when England opts for laziness over finding more work for himself. Oh well.]

[fifty]

[That's not a good sign at all when England is involved. America grabs for his hand, pulls it away from his face.]

[keepscalm]

[England's face beneath the protective mask of his hands is pulled in distress, wrinkles at the corner of his mouth and between his eyebrows. It doesn't come through in his voice, which is flat and distant, but he's clearly feeling a bit tumultuous.

Three. He's down to three now, isn't he? As far as he knows, anyway. There could be more of them wandering around and England might never know.

He lets America take his hand without any fuss, and the other one falls away as its companion is tugged. At least his fingers curl around America's hand in response.]

[fifty]

I still think we can figure out how to get home and get people somewhere safe. [It's not as aggressively optimistic as he wants to be, but England doesn't always react well to that.]

[keepscalm]

We have to. [He tries to let out his unruly tangle of emotions in a sigh. It abates some of the overwhelming urgency, but the guilt is still heavy in his stomach. Though there's resolve in his voice, it's grave, weary.] There's no other option.

[fifty]

Yeah. [America doesn't sound as tired, but he rarely does. He squeezes England's hand.] We'll do it. We definitely can.

[keepscalm]

...yeah. [Certainly, they can. If there's a way to bring them here, there's a way to bring them back. Whether they'll actually find it is the real question, and England's doubts grow the longer he's exposed to the aimless chaos of the town.

Unwilling to let America guess at the direction his mind is spiralling in, he squeezes back. While he doesn't sound insincere, there's little energy in his words.] Thank you.

[fifty]

[America can't guess at where England's thoughts are going, but he can hear the tone of his voice.] I'll stick with you. Promise.

[keepscalm]

[England's hand squeezes America's again, this time like a vice, desperate in its intensity. England's expression doesn't change much, but there's a telling waver in his voice that betrays the thought which immediately crossed his mind.] You'd better.

[fifty]

I will. [For just that moment, America sounds completely serious. He means this promise.]