this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

[quiettotheend]

She feels so small. Tabitha makes her way up to Elashte's office. She's covered in a cold sweat and her eyes are red from crying. She really doesn't know how to handle this. Luke's death hurt her. Tay's death scares her

Comments

[elashte]

It's hard, listening to the psychic landscape today. The Gauche wasn't left untouched by the Rift upset, and the pain is running deep among many. Elashte can't possibly care for them all, much as his instinct goads him to.

But this one young Poludnica... well. If nothing else, he can do his best for her.

He opens the door, brushing over her mind to see what she might need most - refreshment, possibly, even if it's just a glass of water. Contact, a hand on the shoulder, a hug. Reassurance. Diversion.

"Tabitha," he says gently.

[quiettotheend]

Tabitha is still shaking when he opens the door. She reaches up, wiping away tears.

"Sorry," she says softly. She knows he has more important things to do right now -- he's an important person after all, and Chicago's been through a lot in the last two days. To be honest, she's not even sure that's what she's apologizing for.

Really, she just wants someone to cry on. She wants a hug. She wants to know she's still alive. Right now, she couldn't care less about the state of her body. Probably not the best idea, but well, priorities.

[elashte]

"It's all right," Elashte says. He reaches out to draw her into an embrace - it's a strange sensation. He's never had that much interaction with people her age, and what he did have was, by and large, with Tay or patients. "I'm so sorry this has happened."

For her, For Tay. For himself. For Chicago as a whole, when the Barnams come, as they surely will.

[quiettotheend]

Before coming up to his office, Tabitha had done such a good job of stopping the tears. But the moment he pulls her into a hug, they start all over again. It's embarrassing, to be crying on him, but she doesn't know how else to handle this.

She feels like such a child.

Such a child.

For now, she'll cling to him, struggling to stop the tears and the pain. She'd even take one of the two.

[elashte]

It hurts, Elashte is surprised to discover. Just the simple fact of someone else shedding tears for someone he's also lost. The weight in his chest isn't resolving toward weeping, but his throat is closing up, and there's a palpable emptiness at the edge of his mind where a psychic link once was.

He holds her a bit tighter, searching to find any words to say. For a moment his power itches at his mind - it would be almost simple, certainly clinical, just to reach in and smooth out a few lines of reasoning; even if he's not a Glaysa, there would be something he could do. Surely. Some lack of affect he could offer...

But he doesn't. He can't quite articulate why he decides against it, but it seems as though he owes Tay more than that, and possibly owes Tabitha, as well. So he just holds her, trying to comfort, not knowing how.

[quiettotheend]

"Thank you," Tabitha says after a few silent moments. Her voice is soft and weak, and the statement is punctuated with a half-hiccup.

She pulls back, looking down at the ground, and runs her fingers through her hair. She's tired and achy, and should probably go lay down, but instead, she stands there awkwardly.

"For everything, I mean."

And she does mean everything. She's not even sure where she'd be at this point without the man, even though she can't honestly say she knows him that well.

[elashte]

"You're welcome to it," Elashte says, brushing a strand of hair back off her shoulder. Then, seeing - sensing - the ache in her, he takes her elbow. "Here."

The chairs in his offices are all overstuffed - he works with enough aching joints and bruised muscles that he made a decision some time ago to make his places as comfortable as possible. If nothing else, she can sit down, and not be as alone as her room would keep her. If nothing else.

[quiettotheend]

Alone is the last thing she wants right now. With everything that's going on -- went on -- this weekend, it's hard to decide what's real. Who's alive. But what scares her most is that it may not be over. She wants to believe it is, but there's no way to no. There's no way to know in a city like Chicago. She's scared, she hurts, she's tired, but most of all, she's worried that she'll lose more than just Tay.

So being able to curl up in one of El's chairs, reading one of his books, and crying to herself, is so much better than doing it in her room.

She's even afraid to check the journals. She doesn't need to find out about anyone else. For now, Tabitha can just be here, in El's comforting presence.