snowblindrpg | [log] things fall apart [closed]

[Alfie sits for something close to an hour - not talking, not moving, barely breathing. And then, very gently, he eases Emily's head off his lap and onto a mess of blankets. He'll be back, but first, he has some things to do.

Going over to his pack, he starts pulling things out, moving them into Emily and Tifa's bags. There are things he wants them to have with them, if they wake up. Tifa gets an extra blanket for them both to share. Emily gets the rest of those chocolate donuts that Watson had brought over.]

[ Royce doesn't move for a while, but he can't sit there for an hour. He can't. He slides Tifa gently down onto the pillows they'd gathered around, and moves away, just - to get his head back. Just to try and pull himself together, but he can't, he just sort of numbs out the rest of the way, not sure how to even... handle this.

He couldn't handle it when Gwen died. He still doesn't know how he managed. Myron helped, but Myron isn't here. Royce vanishes for half an hour, and then comes back, hood up, cloak close, kneeling down next to Emily to stare at her.

He just stares. He doesn't know what else to do, stuck here, not even paying much attention to Alfie, like he's forgotten Alfie is here. ]

[By the time Royce gets back, Alfie is back on the floor again. He has Emily's body back with him, and with Royce gone, he's holding onto Tifa too - lightly brushing a hand across her forehead, over and over again. The girls' bags are slightly more full than before, but one thing is missing: Emily's sketchbook, which he's taken out and set on the floor next to them.

When Royce sits down, he doesn't do anything at first. But then, he reaches out and settles a hand on the other man's shoulder.]

[ Royce startles slightly when Alfie sets a hand on his shoulder, looking up. His expression is pained, his cheeks a bit wet, but he's not outright sobbing. He just looks stricken.

He looks back down at the girls, and sags a bit, reaching for Emily and then faltering. His hand falls back. ]

Solomons. [ Royce says, voice hoarse. He doesn't know what else to say, just - help? He doesn't know what to do. ]

She's just a little girl.

[He's distraught about both of them, of course, and they both deserve better. But Emily is so young.]

I know. [ Royce says, quietly. ] That was the first time I'd seen her laugh in a while.

Poor thing--

[His voice cracks; breaks.]

[ No, don't. Don't, because Royce flinches, when he hears that break. No, he can't handle that. He swallows hard. ]

Neither of them deserved this. [ But he knows that's just how life works. ]

[No. They didn't.

Alfie doesn't say anything out loud in response to that, and he doesn't move his hand from Royce's shoulder.]

[ Royce doesn't pull away. He moves to settle closer, actually, which he surprises himself with. He sits shoulder to shoulder with Alfie, trying to steady his shaking breath. He sits there in silence for a long while, and then finally manages: ] You took the sketchbook out of Emily's pack.

Yeah. I think she'll forgive us.

I'll give it back.

[If she comes back.]

I'm taking things from their packs. [ To remember them by. Just in case. ] Nothing they'll need. I'll give them back.

[ Royce has never been a sentimental man - and normally he wouldn't tell Alfie, but he doesn't want to look like a looting shithead here. He cares. ]

[Alfie sags against Royce just a little, almost unconsciously.]

Yeah. Like what?

I gave Tifa an owl, once. One of the stuffed animal types. [ He wants that back. ] Emily's bear.

[ She named it. Royce keeps steady when Alfie sags, not minding. The support isn't awful. ]

Which one? Which bear?

[She has several stuffed animals, Alfie knows. They've spoiled her as much as they could.]

The one I gave her. Lord Bearington. [ It was recent. He just - he just wants to keep them safe. ]

All right. Yeah, you take that one. We'll leave the ones I gave her - the bear, and the cat. Darcy and Sokolov, she calls them.

[ Royce makes a quiet noise of agreement, and that's about it. He doesn't know how else to respond, doesn't know what to do with his hands or his gaze. This is far, far out of his depth - emotion like the emotion he's feeling has always been hard for him to express. ]

I'm staying here tonight.

[On the floor with the bodies, he means, holding their hands. It'll help nothing, it'll change nothing - but he honestly doesn't care.]

I am too. [ He won't argue that. ] As much as I can.

[ Because he knows he's going to need a break. Holding onto cold, dead bodies sets off too much bad for him, and he knows he can't sit still the whole night. His breath sucks in a little sharp at the thought of not having them around - it sinks in a little further, digs it's claws in. If they don't come back, it'll be less warm.

Tifa curling up against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Emily dragging blankets and crayons over to Royce, climbing into his lap. If they don't come back, that little bit of - not so awful, it's gone.

Royce actually bites his lip, eyes hot and stinging. ]

[Alfie murmurs something under his breath, almost mouthing it rather than saying it, too quiet to be anything close to understandable. They're going to have to walk away and leave them in the morning, and he realizes he's never actually had to do that before. Fiona's death, Royce's previous deaths, Tifa's previous death - all that had taken place away from him.]

[ He'd had to do this with Alfie, before. It'd been one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, but he did it. He's not sure he can do it with the girls. At least with Tifa, the last time, he'd been with her til the end. ]

What did you say? [ Royce asks quietly, stroking Emily's hair off her forehead. ]

A prayer; blessing for safety. I said one earlier, too.

[Before they died.]

When Fiona died, Emily asked me if I would pray for her. I said no; I didn't wanna say a prayer for the dead. For them, I said a prayer for the living.

[ Royce nods a little. He doesn't think it'll do anything, but he's not going to be so ruthlessly awful. Maybe it's a little comforting to think about in a way he won't admit to himself. ]

If they don't come back-- [ Royce starts, and then stops. He doesn't know how to end that sentence. ]

[Honestly, Alfie doesn't think it'll do anything either. But the familiarity of the words are a comfort to him, and he thinks knowing he said them would have been a comfort to Tifa and Emily, too.

He isn't actively crying. He doesn't realize that there are any tears at all, until one drops onto Royce's hand and rolls down onto Emily's face.]

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