snowblindrpg | [log] things fall apart [closed]

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.]

[ God, what does he even do - he couldn't even comfort Tifa, so long ago, when Cloud died. He never feels like he can do this well enough, especially when his heart aches like it does, but he'll try. Royce drags in an unsteady breath, and brings his hand up to rest on Alfie's arm. He squeezes Alfie's forearm once - solidarity, just, he's here? He's here.

He doesn't ever finish his sentence. He just closes his eyes and sticks close to Alfie, trying not to cry himself. ]

[Yeah. He's here. They're both here. And in the months that they've been traveling together, Alfie hasn't ever been as grateful for Royce as he is right now. He lets go of Tifa for a moment to put his hand on top of Royce's, giving it a light squeeze back.]

[ For as emotionally constipated as Royce can be, this is something he can allow himself to be comforted by. He doesn't pull away or move from Alfie's hand immediately, just keeps it there for a good minute before standing. He goes to drag his pack and Alfie's pack closer to where the girls are laid out, and settles next to Tifa with his blanket and pillow. He leans against the wall, resting one hand on her shoulder, and closes his eyes.

He won't be very talkative for the rest of the night. ]

Edited 2017-02-27 17:29 (UTC)

[Neither will Alfie. He won't even say anything when Royce brings his bag over, which is a mark of trust and familiarity in and of itself - most people, he'd be watching like a hawk right now, to make sure they aren't trying any funny business.

He sleeps sitting upright on the floor, between the girls, which his back will regret later even if his head won't. And in the morning, he'll drift in and out of sleep for a while before properly waking - partly because of his forever-lingering illness, and partly because there's really no need for him to rush. He'd barely unpacked last night, and hadn't bothered with any of his usual nighttime rituals like changing his clothes or checking on the skin of his extremities. When they need to go, he can be up and ready in just a few minutes.

But they don't need to go yet.]

Edited 2017-02-27 22:05 (UTC)

[ Royce barely sleeps.

Everything feels worse at night. It soaks into his bones, into his veins, and he tries to rest it away, but it doesn't go anywhere. Instead, he cries, on and off - silently, without any sort of heaving shoulders or dramatics, just quiet tears as he stares at the bodies of the girls he's grown so fond of. They might come back. They might not.

He stays up because he can't sleep, and because he doesn't trust their bodies to not just vanish. They don't. Better to be sure.

Royce looks exhausted in the morning, circles dark under his eyes. He hadn't changed either, he's just - silent, still curled next to Tifa. He keeps thinking about how her hair spilled out dark against the snow, the red soak of blood in the snow - like Gwen.

It was a lot like Gwen. ]

[The lock ticks slowly towards the end of lockdown. Six o'clock hits. The doors unlock.

Alfie still doesn't make any move to get up.]

Royce.

[He has his arms full of dead girl, and will his one free hand he holds tight to Tifa's shoulder.]

[ Royce hasn't moved much either. He's got Tifa half in his lap, since Alfie's got Emily. It's - too much, it's too much, the reminder, losing Tifa and Emily. They're not Gwen and Mercy and they never could be, but the resemblance and the similarities are enough to tear him up on the inside.

Royce doesn't look up. ]

I don't want to leave them here. [ Royce croaks. ]

[Alfie knows it's his job to be the sensible one, the rational one, the one who argues that sitting here isn't going to do any of them any fucking good.

But he can't quite manage it. He tries:]

It'll only make us feel worse, looking at them like this.

[... But he doesn't sound convinced himself.]

[ Even Alfie can't manage to sound convincing, and Royce knows - he knows that they need to. It won't help. It won't do anything. They can't just stay here. Royce takes a deep breath. ]

We have to go. [ He says, quietly. He grinds his teeth. He'll be the hardass this time. He's not unused to the job. ] They're dead. We can't take them with us, even if we want to. This does us no good.

Yeah. Even if we want a rest day, this isn't gonna be a good place to do it.

[He still doesn't move.]

[ Neither does Royce. ] Yeah.

[ Royce brushes at Tifa's hair, staring down at her. She's pale, cold - there's nothing that he associates with her there anymore, and it's stupid to be so attached to something that just isn't there, but he can't pull himself away. ]

Should stay in the middle of the housing area. [ Royce says after a long moment. ] Easier to get to the likely places they might revive in that way.

Mm, yeah. We'll gather supplies. Take them east, later on.

[He follows Royce's gaze to Tifa.]

Fucking hell, what a good woman she is.

Edited 2017-02-28 05:09 (UTC)

[ Is. That's optimistic. ]

Far more patient than she should be. [ But he'll follow suit anyway. ] Don't know why she stuck with me.

She never shrinks when I snap at her. She doesn't always retort, mind, but she doesn't let us push her around, does she.

No, she doesn't. She has a mind of her own. Gentle but just as stubborn as you or me.

I told her to not let me bully her. She hasn't, since I did.

Drives me up the fucking wall, sometimes. But I respect her all the more for it.

Mm. [ There's a lot about her that Royce respects, and appreciates. There's a lot that he hates. They'd fought a lot the past few weeks, but Royce still thinks of her as a friend - loves her enough to have stayed behind for her, even if it meant his death.

He doesn't know how to say any of it out loud, not the more complex stuff, so he just murmurs: ] I died with her, the last time.

[ Which - Alfie knows, there's a very, very small amount of people he'd do that for. It's an agreement. It means something. ]

I know.

[He knows that simple fact, and he knows its significance.]

She loves you. Loves us.

[ Fuck, he's going to cry again. His throat tightens up, and he drags in a breath that shudders, tilting his head so his hood falls further over his face. Don't cry. Not right now.

Tightly: ] We need to go.

[Yeah. They really do.

But first, he leans over Emily, stroking the hair back from her face and settling that dinosaur hat more securely on her head. Her pale little face is drawn, proof of a painful death, and he rubs his thumb over a dead cheek to try to smooth it out a little. And under his breath, very, very, very quietly this time, he starts to hum a tune.

I'm still here.]

Edited 2017-02-28 05:47 (UTC)

[ It's a good thing that Royce doesn't look over, because Alfie gently adjusting Emily's hat might have actually sent him to an early grave. The very quiet song is just enough, in the silent house, to make Royce feel like his heart is being ripped out of his chest. He gives up on trying to breathe correctly and just pulls Tifa a little closer.

He doesn't know if he can look at Emily before they leave. He will. He has to, he just. She's so small. He never knew that he could feel anything like this for anybody, not after Gwen, but here he is.

They have to keep going. Keep moving. Whether the girls come back or not. ]

[He leans down and kisses Emily on the forehead.]

All right. All right. We need to go.

[His voice is strained and husky, but he's going to try to stand now - moving her off his lap and onto the blanket he's leaving for them, next to Tifa.]

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