Seven precious siblings
These ended up all being themed around loss and/or mourning. I blame Mello and Voldemort equally; they caused the sad situations in the first two fics and this then set the tone for the rest of them.
[Title] What Isn't Written
[Fandom] Death Note
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Raito has always had a habit of reading his sister's diary.
Raito isn't the kind of person who would read someone else's diary, but every so often he has glanced into Sayu's, as a concerned older brother might well do. When she was eight and he was eleven and he was worried she was leaving something secret lying around, it contained sporadic entries about a year apart about how she'd gone to tea at a friend's house or someone had been mean to her at school. When she was twelve and he was fifteen and he was suspecting she was deliberately failing maths to get attention, it contained a lot of writing about boys and a lot of paragraphs about how she was scared no one would ever really understand her. When she was seventeen and he was twenty and their mother was worried that she was dating a boy with a yakuza haircut, it contained scribbled phone numbers and shopping lists and notes about which scores she needed to get into which colleges and places she might move to, in the future -
Or, to put it another way, when she was eight, she drew flowers along the bottom of the page; when she was twelve, she drew hearts in the margins; and when she was seventeen, she drew spirals in the corners while thinking about something else entirely.
Now she draws lines. Raito feels like she's making fun of him, watching him to see if he's looking confused. He glances over at her, but she's lying on the couch, head slumped against its arm, a faint line of dried drool at the corner of her mouth. He'd wanted a reaction by looking at her diary blatantly, in front of her. He'd wanted to be the one to sort everything out, like he was once always the one who was able to find lost shoes or keys.
Page after page of lines, drawn so hard that in some places the pen has ripped through the paper. It makes no sense. He realises he'd relied on her using words, and he realises that that was stupid. She seems to have given up on using words entirely. He wants to blame it on his little sister's dramatic tendencies, like the way she used to try and throw tantrums in shops because she didn't mind people looking at her. He doesn't want to admit that, for once, she's gone through something that he never has, that he can't understand. He wants her silence and stillness to be a symptom of less, not more. He doesn't look at her diary again after that. A notebook filled with page after page of lines seems to mock him. Like she's made her own Death Note, and mimics his frantic writing of names.
[Title] Expected Behaviour
[Fandom] Harry Potter
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Petunia knows how things are supposed to be; right now, they're not how she wants them.
Petunia has never completely forgiven Lily.
Your sister is not supposed to die. Or, if she does, it's supposed to be when you're both old and probably don't care much any more, or at least have expected it. She isn't supposed to die when she probably never had any grey hairs (Lily wouldn't have, would she, redheads always keep their colouring). And she most definitely isn't supposed to die when you've stopped talking to her and tried to cut her out of your life. It's like she's walking out on a fight (which she never actually used to do, that was a technique Petunia would use on occasion when she was trying to prove that she was the mature one). Saying that there's something better she could be doing.
No, it's nothing like that. She's dead and death is just death and one is supposed to be upset but no one tells you how to mourn, especially not when it's about someone who you tried your hardest to pretend didn't exist. Petunia had thought Vernon understood when he said of course I understand, some people are just the wrong sort. Even if they are family, that doesn't mean you have to pretend you approve. But now she thinks maybe Vernon didn't understand, or didn't think this far ahead, or just doesn't actually know any more than her.
She is standing by the window and she's telling herself that she's there because she wants to see if that Mrs Amersham across the road is throwing her rubbish in their bins but really that can't be true because tears keep blurring in her eyes and she can't see, thus rendering the whole exercise pointless, yet she doesn't move away. Stretching away in front of her are red-tiled roofs and grey garages and misty air and neatly trimmed trees. It's quite a nice view, but every time she looks at it, all she can think of is that some of them could be living under every neat roof and her sister is buried in the damp earth.
She wants to feel vindicated. What Lily was doing, the world she was living in, was unnatural. Wrong. Evil (she's thought it so many times before). And yet, she never thought she would be proved right, not like this. Magic and Hogwarts aren't like people with Mohawks or pierced noses; they aren't like drug addicts or benefit scroungers. You can't tell. You don't know anything bad is going to happen until someone breaks down your door in the middle of the night and leaves you dead on the floor. There's no joy in being proved right like this. There's just terror, because even knowing about it puts you at risk too.
Petunia turns away from the window.
[Title] Sibling Rivalry
[Fandom] Battle Royale (novel)
[Rating] PG
[Notes/Summary] Ikumi Mimura often finds her brother really annoying.
Ikumi Mimura has spent a lot of time, in her short life, being mad with her brother. There's the way when he was little and she was littler he used to act all polite and charming to people he said rude things about behind their backs and Ikumi wanted to pinch him for it. There's the way when he was a bit older and she was still little he used to swipe the last cookie or tell people she doesn't want one, I'll eat it or say something gross so she'd be put off eating. And there's the way when they were both in junior high he used to tease her about things like boyfriends and having breasts and - just really embarrassing stuff. She couldn't stand it.
Now she's really mad with him and she doesn't know how not to be. She's pretty sure when your brother's got killed in The Program you're not supposed to be angry with him. But she is. Shinji was always so smug about how clever and anti-governmental and good at sports and running he was - even when he didn't spell it out you could see he was thinking yep, I'm pretty awesome. And so now Ikumi finds herself digging her nails into her fists and wanting to scream at him oh, oh so if you're so wonderful why the heck didn't you win, huh? If you're going to be so arrogant you could at least do something useful with it!
Because he didn't, he goofed off like he always does, and now Mum keeps crying and Dad is home even less than usual and Ikumi feels like her chest has been filled up with broken glass.
She can't tell anyone about this being mad with Shinji thing, of course. Her friends hugged her and told her they were so sorry, and her best friend Yumi stayed with her when she found herself crying too hard to go into homeroom even though they both got told off for being late. But even Yumi just said I know, it must be so sad, I know when what Ikumi wanted to say was I hate him. I hate him!
It makes it worse when she remembers not being mad with him. Like when he was little and she was littler and when Mum and Dad had fights he let her come into his room and insulted their parents with all the worst, silliest words he knew until she was giggling instead of crying. Like when he was a bit older and she was still little and he made up this stupid story about Shinji and Ikumi who had superpowers and went off and had adventures in America and ate ice cream and he told it to her in instalments over the entire summer holiday. Like when they were both in junior high he warned her who the meanest people were and when she came home with her skirt torn up by a razor blade he started dating the perpetrator and then dumped her in front of everyone two weeks later.
She prefers being angry.
[Title] No Reflection
[Fandom] Malory Towers
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Connie misses her twin.
Connie doesn't know what to do now.
She and Ruth are twins, and in every day Connie goes to do something and remembers Ruth isn't there any more and doesn't like her and it's like missing a step.
Normally she would make Ruth's bed for her, help brush her hair. She would let Ruth know if there was anything that needed repairing on her tunic or if a button looked like it was going to fall off. In lessons she would check that Ruth was understanding, doing the work okay, would lean over to make sure that their answers matched up. At break and lunch time she would make sure Ruth had somewhere to sit and some food that Connie knew she liked. She would remind Ruth of what prep needed doing, find a book or a comic that they both liked reading, and brush Ruth's hair again for her before bed.
Now all of that is gone. There's no Ruth-and-Connie, just Connie on her own. She can't distract herself from her thoughts by seeing if her twin is all right because Ruth doesn't want to see her. She dresses in the morning and brushes her own hair and then finds herself waiting, wondering what else she's supposed to be doing. She tries to find her way through the maze of studying and prep but how can she think straight when she's only half there? And when she eats, it doesn't seem to taste of anything.
Really, that's the reason she starts hanging around with Bridget Linton. Bridget is nothing like Ruth. The hem of her tunic is often loose and she only does her work if she feels like it. She eats fiercely and quickly as if it's just a necessary evil in order for her to be refuelled. She rarely spends time in the common room and thinks the other fourth-formers are babyish. And her thick hair is constantly tangled and when she combs it she has to wrench at it, scowling as if it's someone else's fault. When Connie is with Bridget, life changes and takes unexpected turns, goes to new places, and Ruth isn't waiting there. That suits Connie. If she's in a new place, maybe she can be Connie on her own and pretend she didn't have a twin. That may not be the right thing to do, but it's something at least.
[Title] Growing Up
[Fandom] KareKano (His and Her Circumstances)
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Tsukino misses her big sister.
"I'm being stupid," Tsukino said at last, rubbing her hand across her eyes.
Kano patted her, snuggled against her a little like she used to do when they were small. "I miss her as well."
"Yeah, but you're not... not crying in a corner."
"Everyone cries in a corner sometimes, Tsuki."
"It's just..." Tsukino swallowed, hard, but her voice went croaky anyway - "She used to like hanging out with us! I know it's different when you have a boyfriend, but... she used to... I mean, she's always had friends, why is this different?"
Kano frowned, studied the ceiling for a second. Then, grinning ruefully: "I think it's different because she actually likes him, and he actually knows what she's really like."
Tsukino giggled, damply. "Oh yeah."
"I know it's weird. It always is when people grow up. I mean, when you get a boyfriend I'll be crying in the corner on my own!"
"Don't say that!" Tsukino wailed, her mouth crumpling.
"It was meant to be funny!"
"I know. I just... I know."
"It'll get better," Kano said, tucking her feet underneath her. "And in the meantime, we can watch our big sis trying to cope with the highs and lows of romance. It'll be like our own personal drama series." She patted Tsukino again. "Right now, you just cry and I'll sit here and dispense helpful advice. I like doing that."
[Title] Resurrection
[Fandom] Malory Towers; superhero AU linking up with the fics written for my five superheroes day.
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Darrell returns to her family to make amends.
The sky was bright, flat blue - rather like painted tin, Darrell thought. She wrapped her coat more snugly around herself, and took a few more steps towards the front gate of the house. The garden was bare, the earth frozen over, and the trees were bare too. Their shadows fell onto the sunlit walls and Darrell remembered climbing the trees, waving at the house, trying to make her own shadow appear -
She bit her lip and kept walking; the gate creaked as she opened it, and then she was walking up towards the front door. Before she was even halfway there, though, it flew open, and Felicity was stumbling out to meet her, almost slipping on the bare ground in her excitement. "Darrell!"
"Be careful!" Darrell called, hurrying over. "You'll slip - Felicity -"
"Oh, don't be such a wet blanket." Felicity was scrambling down the path, her crutch leaving neat semi-circular imprints in the earth. "Where have you been? Why didn't you come and see us earlier? A fine sister you are!"
She was smiling as she said it, seemingly unaware of any truth it might contain, but Darrell had to swallow a few times before she was able to say, "I know. I'm sorry, I just... it was difficult..."
Felicity reached her, and Darrell caught her by the arm, let her lean on her. "Come on, let's get back into the house."
Felicity pulled her arm free. "Stop that, I manage fine without you most of the time. Just because you're the big sister - oh, Darrell, Mother and Daddy will be so excited to see you!"
"I doubt they'll be excited as you seem to be."
Felicity stopped, turned to look at her. "You should have come back to see us before." Her face was serious suddenly.
"I couldn't." Darrell didn't think she could explain to Felicity how it felt being back at home, how she could hear the memories of the screaming and yelling and Felicity sobbing and cold air and all my fault, all my fault -
"I wish you didn't still blame yourself," Felicity said softly.
"Why on earth shouldn't I?"
"Because it won't help. They've forgiven you, you know that - they forgave you long ago. And I wasn't cross with you. I was being a little brat, trying to make you angry. Neither of us knew that that was going to happen if I succeeded."
Silence for a few moments. The air was very still.
"I thought I'd lost my sister," Felicity said, squeezing Darrell's arm.
"I thought..." Darrell gulped, squinted at the frosty ground. "I thought you wouldn't want her back."
"Well, that's just silly," Felicity said. "I always wanted her back. Now come on. Let's get inside."
[Title] Eulogy
[Fandom] Malory Towers
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Set post-canon; character death; Moira Linton speaks at a funeral.
Moira stepped up to the lectern of the little church and stood silent for a couple of seconds. She was pale - even more so in her black dress - and her mouth was pressed into a thin line. But then she took a deep breath and began to speak.
"We're gathered here today for the funeral of my sister Bridget Linton. I don't know how many of you here knew Bridget well. But I think I speak for everyone who did know her when I say that she could be extremely difficult to get on with."
There was an audible gasp at that; people glanced at each other; Mrs Linton closed her eyes. Moira's mouth changed, ever so slightly, into something that could have been a smile.
"I'm not going to remember her as someone she wasn't," she continued. "That's a disservice to her. I know she would have done the same for me if - if our positions were reversed. Bridget rarely cut anyone slack. If she showed any of you respect in her lifetime, you can know that it was well-deserved and wholehearted. If she mocked you or hurt you or criticised you, please take comfort in the knowledge that that was how she treated everyone. When I think about how I miss her, I think about how she won't be there to try and make me lose my temper, or borrow my possessions, or ridicule me, and that's when I know that she isn't going to come back.
When I was younger, I thought often about her behaviour and I hated her for it. I never stopped to consider that perhaps I was little better. I don't think I would have done, not on my own. Our family is naturally pig-headed.
"But when I was at school, I did something to save someone else. For the first time, I realised that I had behaved poorly and needed to make up for it. Bridget told me that she was pleased, that it made her feel that I would do the same thing for her. It was then that I realised she hadn't already known that I would. I realised I had written her off without ever thinking how I could improve things myself.
"She died because she was being stupid. I'm not going to pretend that's not the case, and I am very angry with her that she let things happen like this. But I'll always be grateful - more grateful than she'll ever know - that I came to my senses soon enough that we could reconcile as sisters. Neither of us changed a great deal, but we both changed a little, and that was what counted."
She stopped, and, without any further ceremony, returned to her seat, mouth still set. When the organ began to play, she stood up, but only mouthed the words, and the tears in her eyes shone in the weak sunlight.
[Title] What Isn't Written
[Fandom] Death Note
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Raito has always had a habit of reading his sister's diary.
Raito isn't the kind of person who would read someone else's diary, but every so often he has glanced into Sayu's, as a concerned older brother might well do. When she was eight and he was eleven and he was worried she was leaving something secret lying around, it contained sporadic entries about a year apart about how she'd gone to tea at a friend's house or someone had been mean to her at school. When she was twelve and he was fifteen and he was suspecting she was deliberately failing maths to get attention, it contained a lot of writing about boys and a lot of paragraphs about how she was scared no one would ever really understand her. When she was seventeen and he was twenty and their mother was worried that she was dating a boy with a yakuza haircut, it contained scribbled phone numbers and shopping lists and notes about which scores she needed to get into which colleges and places she might move to, in the future -
Or, to put it another way, when she was eight, she drew flowers along the bottom of the page; when she was twelve, she drew hearts in the margins; and when she was seventeen, she drew spirals in the corners while thinking about something else entirely.
Now she draws lines. Raito feels like she's making fun of him, watching him to see if he's looking confused. He glances over at her, but she's lying on the couch, head slumped against its arm, a faint line of dried drool at the corner of her mouth. He'd wanted a reaction by looking at her diary blatantly, in front of her. He'd wanted to be the one to sort everything out, like he was once always the one who was able to find lost shoes or keys.
Page after page of lines, drawn so hard that in some places the pen has ripped through the paper. It makes no sense. He realises he'd relied on her using words, and he realises that that was stupid. She seems to have given up on using words entirely. He wants to blame it on his little sister's dramatic tendencies, like the way she used to try and throw tantrums in shops because she didn't mind people looking at her. He doesn't want to admit that, for once, she's gone through something that he never has, that he can't understand. He wants her silence and stillness to be a symptom of less, not more. He doesn't look at her diary again after that. A notebook filled with page after page of lines seems to mock him. Like she's made her own Death Note, and mimics his frantic writing of names.
[Title] Expected Behaviour
[Fandom] Harry Potter
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Petunia knows how things are supposed to be; right now, they're not how she wants them.
Petunia has never completely forgiven Lily.
Your sister is not supposed to die. Or, if she does, it's supposed to be when you're both old and probably don't care much any more, or at least have expected it. She isn't supposed to die when she probably never had any grey hairs (Lily wouldn't have, would she, redheads always keep their colouring). And she most definitely isn't supposed to die when you've stopped talking to her and tried to cut her out of your life. It's like she's walking out on a fight (which she never actually used to do, that was a technique Petunia would use on occasion when she was trying to prove that she was the mature one). Saying that there's something better she could be doing.
No, it's nothing like that. She's dead and death is just death and one is supposed to be upset but no one tells you how to mourn, especially not when it's about someone who you tried your hardest to pretend didn't exist. Petunia had thought Vernon understood when he said of course I understand, some people are just the wrong sort. Even if they are family, that doesn't mean you have to pretend you approve. But now she thinks maybe Vernon didn't understand, or didn't think this far ahead, or just doesn't actually know any more than her.
She is standing by the window and she's telling herself that she's there because she wants to see if that Mrs Amersham across the road is throwing her rubbish in their bins but really that can't be true because tears keep blurring in her eyes and she can't see, thus rendering the whole exercise pointless, yet she doesn't move away. Stretching away in front of her are red-tiled roofs and grey garages and misty air and neatly trimmed trees. It's quite a nice view, but every time she looks at it, all she can think of is that some of them could be living under every neat roof and her sister is buried in the damp earth.
She wants to feel vindicated. What Lily was doing, the world she was living in, was unnatural. Wrong. Evil (she's thought it so many times before). And yet, she never thought she would be proved right, not like this. Magic and Hogwarts aren't like people with Mohawks or pierced noses; they aren't like drug addicts or benefit scroungers. You can't tell. You don't know anything bad is going to happen until someone breaks down your door in the middle of the night and leaves you dead on the floor. There's no joy in being proved right like this. There's just terror, because even knowing about it puts you at risk too.
Petunia turns away from the window.
[Title] Sibling Rivalry
[Fandom] Battle Royale (novel)
[Rating] PG
[Notes/Summary] Ikumi Mimura often finds her brother really annoying.
Ikumi Mimura has spent a lot of time, in her short life, being mad with her brother. There's the way when he was little and she was littler he used to act all polite and charming to people he said rude things about behind their backs and Ikumi wanted to pinch him for it. There's the way when he was a bit older and she was still little he used to swipe the last cookie or tell people she doesn't want one, I'll eat it or say something gross so she'd be put off eating. And there's the way when they were both in junior high he used to tease her about things like boyfriends and having breasts and - just really embarrassing stuff. She couldn't stand it.
Now she's really mad with him and she doesn't know how not to be. She's pretty sure when your brother's got killed in The Program you're not supposed to be angry with him. But she is. Shinji was always so smug about how clever and anti-governmental and good at sports and running he was - even when he didn't spell it out you could see he was thinking yep, I'm pretty awesome. And so now Ikumi finds herself digging her nails into her fists and wanting to scream at him oh, oh so if you're so wonderful why the heck didn't you win, huh? If you're going to be so arrogant you could at least do something useful with it!
Because he didn't, he goofed off like he always does, and now Mum keeps crying and Dad is home even less than usual and Ikumi feels like her chest has been filled up with broken glass.
She can't tell anyone about this being mad with Shinji thing, of course. Her friends hugged her and told her they were so sorry, and her best friend Yumi stayed with her when she found herself crying too hard to go into homeroom even though they both got told off for being late. But even Yumi just said I know, it must be so sad, I know when what Ikumi wanted to say was I hate him. I hate him!
It makes it worse when she remembers not being mad with him. Like when he was little and she was littler and when Mum and Dad had fights he let her come into his room and insulted their parents with all the worst, silliest words he knew until she was giggling instead of crying. Like when he was a bit older and she was still little and he made up this stupid story about Shinji and Ikumi who had superpowers and went off and had adventures in America and ate ice cream and he told it to her in instalments over the entire summer holiday. Like when they were both in junior high he warned her who the meanest people were and when she came home with her skirt torn up by a razor blade he started dating the perpetrator and then dumped her in front of everyone two weeks later.
She prefers being angry.
[Title] No Reflection
[Fandom] Malory Towers
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Connie misses her twin.
Connie doesn't know what to do now.
She and Ruth are twins, and in every day Connie goes to do something and remembers Ruth isn't there any more and doesn't like her and it's like missing a step.
Normally she would make Ruth's bed for her, help brush her hair. She would let Ruth know if there was anything that needed repairing on her tunic or if a button looked like it was going to fall off. In lessons she would check that Ruth was understanding, doing the work okay, would lean over to make sure that their answers matched up. At break and lunch time she would make sure Ruth had somewhere to sit and some food that Connie knew she liked. She would remind Ruth of what prep needed doing, find a book or a comic that they both liked reading, and brush Ruth's hair again for her before bed.
Now all of that is gone. There's no Ruth-and-Connie, just Connie on her own. She can't distract herself from her thoughts by seeing if her twin is all right because Ruth doesn't want to see her. She dresses in the morning and brushes her own hair and then finds herself waiting, wondering what else she's supposed to be doing. She tries to find her way through the maze of studying and prep but how can she think straight when she's only half there? And when she eats, it doesn't seem to taste of anything.
Really, that's the reason she starts hanging around with Bridget Linton. Bridget is nothing like Ruth. The hem of her tunic is often loose and she only does her work if she feels like it. She eats fiercely and quickly as if it's just a necessary evil in order for her to be refuelled. She rarely spends time in the common room and thinks the other fourth-formers are babyish. And her thick hair is constantly tangled and when she combs it she has to wrench at it, scowling as if it's someone else's fault. When Connie is with Bridget, life changes and takes unexpected turns, goes to new places, and Ruth isn't waiting there. That suits Connie. If she's in a new place, maybe she can be Connie on her own and pretend she didn't have a twin. That may not be the right thing to do, but it's something at least.
[Title] Growing Up
[Fandom] KareKano (His and Her Circumstances)
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Tsukino misses her big sister.
"I'm being stupid," Tsukino said at last, rubbing her hand across her eyes.
Kano patted her, snuggled against her a little like she used to do when they were small. "I miss her as well."
"Yeah, but you're not... not crying in a corner."
"Everyone cries in a corner sometimes, Tsuki."
"It's just..." Tsukino swallowed, hard, but her voice went croaky anyway - "She used to like hanging out with us! I know it's different when you have a boyfriend, but... she used to... I mean, she's always had friends, why is this different?"
Kano frowned, studied the ceiling for a second. Then, grinning ruefully: "I think it's different because she actually likes him, and he actually knows what she's really like."
Tsukino giggled, damply. "Oh yeah."
"I know it's weird. It always is when people grow up. I mean, when you get a boyfriend I'll be crying in the corner on my own!"
"Don't say that!" Tsukino wailed, her mouth crumpling.
"It was meant to be funny!"
"I know. I just... I know."
"It'll get better," Kano said, tucking her feet underneath her. "And in the meantime, we can watch our big sis trying to cope with the highs and lows of romance. It'll be like our own personal drama series." She patted Tsukino again. "Right now, you just cry and I'll sit here and dispense helpful advice. I like doing that."
[Title] Resurrection
[Fandom] Malory Towers; superhero AU linking up with the fics written for my five superheroes day.
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Darrell returns to her family to make amends.
The sky was bright, flat blue - rather like painted tin, Darrell thought. She wrapped her coat more snugly around herself, and took a few more steps towards the front gate of the house. The garden was bare, the earth frozen over, and the trees were bare too. Their shadows fell onto the sunlit walls and Darrell remembered climbing the trees, waving at the house, trying to make her own shadow appear -
She bit her lip and kept walking; the gate creaked as she opened it, and then she was walking up towards the front door. Before she was even halfway there, though, it flew open, and Felicity was stumbling out to meet her, almost slipping on the bare ground in her excitement. "Darrell!"
"Be careful!" Darrell called, hurrying over. "You'll slip - Felicity -"
"Oh, don't be such a wet blanket." Felicity was scrambling down the path, her crutch leaving neat semi-circular imprints in the earth. "Where have you been? Why didn't you come and see us earlier? A fine sister you are!"
She was smiling as she said it, seemingly unaware of any truth it might contain, but Darrell had to swallow a few times before she was able to say, "I know. I'm sorry, I just... it was difficult..."
Felicity reached her, and Darrell caught her by the arm, let her lean on her. "Come on, let's get back into the house."
Felicity pulled her arm free. "Stop that, I manage fine without you most of the time. Just because you're the big sister - oh, Darrell, Mother and Daddy will be so excited to see you!"
"I doubt they'll be excited as you seem to be."
Felicity stopped, turned to look at her. "You should have come back to see us before." Her face was serious suddenly.
"I couldn't." Darrell didn't think she could explain to Felicity how it felt being back at home, how she could hear the memories of the screaming and yelling and Felicity sobbing and cold air and all my fault, all my fault -
"I wish you didn't still blame yourself," Felicity said softly.
"Why on earth shouldn't I?"
"Because it won't help. They've forgiven you, you know that - they forgave you long ago. And I wasn't cross with you. I was being a little brat, trying to make you angry. Neither of us knew that that was going to happen if I succeeded."
Silence for a few moments. The air was very still.
"I thought I'd lost my sister," Felicity said, squeezing Darrell's arm.
"I thought..." Darrell gulped, squinted at the frosty ground. "I thought you wouldn't want her back."
"Well, that's just silly," Felicity said. "I always wanted her back. Now come on. Let's get inside."
[Title] Eulogy
[Fandom] Malory Towers
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Set post-canon; character death; Moira Linton speaks at a funeral.
Moira stepped up to the lectern of the little church and stood silent for a couple of seconds. She was pale - even more so in her black dress - and her mouth was pressed into a thin line. But then she took a deep breath and began to speak.
"We're gathered here today for the funeral of my sister Bridget Linton. I don't know how many of you here knew Bridget well. But I think I speak for everyone who did know her when I say that she could be extremely difficult to get on with."
There was an audible gasp at that; people glanced at each other; Mrs Linton closed her eyes. Moira's mouth changed, ever so slightly, into something that could have been a smile.
"I'm not going to remember her as someone she wasn't," she continued. "That's a disservice to her. I know she would have done the same for me if - if our positions were reversed. Bridget rarely cut anyone slack. If she showed any of you respect in her lifetime, you can know that it was well-deserved and wholehearted. If she mocked you or hurt you or criticised you, please take comfort in the knowledge that that was how she treated everyone. When I think about how I miss her, I think about how she won't be there to try and make me lose my temper, or borrow my possessions, or ridicule me, and that's when I know that she isn't going to come back.
When I was younger, I thought often about her behaviour and I hated her for it. I never stopped to consider that perhaps I was little better. I don't think I would have done, not on my own. Our family is naturally pig-headed.
"But when I was at school, I did something to save someone else. For the first time, I realised that I had behaved poorly and needed to make up for it. Bridget told me that she was pleased, that it made her feel that I would do the same thing for her. It was then that I realised she hadn't already known that I would. I realised I had written her off without ever thinking how I could improve things myself.
"She died because she was being stupid. I'm not going to pretend that's not the case, and I am very angry with her that she let things happen like this. But I'll always be grateful - more grateful than she'll ever know - that I came to my senses soon enough that we could reconcile as sisters. Neither of us changed a great deal, but we both changed a little, and that was what counted."
She stopped, and, without any further ceremony, returned to her seat, mouth still set. When the organ began to play, she stood up, but only mouthed the words, and the tears in her eyes shone in the weak sunlight.