[log] things fall apart [closed]

[devoutish]

Characters: Alfie Solomons, Emily Kaldwin, Royce Melborn, Tifa Lockhart
Location: building 92 and the surrounding area
Date: night of 213 to morning of 214
Summary: another one bites the dust bum tish
Warnings: character death

CATCH-ALL FOR TRAUMA

Comments

[devoutish]

[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.]

[bywolves]

[ 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. ]

[devoutish]

[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.]

[bywolves]

[ 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. ]

[devoutish]

[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.]

[bywolves]

[ 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.

[devoutish]

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

[He still doesn't move.]

[bywolves]

[ 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.

[devoutish]

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.

[bywolves]

[ 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.

[devoutish]

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.

[bywolves]

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.

[devoutish]

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

[bywolves]

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. ]

[devoutish]

I know.

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

She loves you. Loves us.

[bywolves]

[ 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.

[devoutish]

[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.]

[bywolves]

[ 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. ]

[devoutish]

[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.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce nods a little, running a hand over Tifa's hair one more time. He sets her down on the blanket as well, and arranges her carefully, peacefully. He's rigid and tense when he stops to look at Emily, crouching next to her.

He murmurs something, finally. Something soft, not entirely audible. It's probably a goodbye.

Royce stands, pulling his cloak close, bag in hand. They need to go. ]

[devoutish]

[They go out the door. Alfie doesn't look back again. Tears keep pricking at his eyes, threatening to spill and freeze on his cheeks. he wipes them away as much as he can, but it's not long before raw spots start developing on his face.]