Room 406, evening

[izzyalienqueen]

After last night's festivities and working today, Isabel was ready for a quiet night in. She made herself a hot chocolate, minus the whipped cream because she was still semi-traumatized, then settled in to write a few more essays.

The door was open.

[OOC: Okay to say Ronan came by, conversation itself is NFB. Anyone else stopping by would be

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[hotceltogoth]

Ronan had spent much of the afternoon after his abortive lunch avoiding people. Everyone. Just... running. The preserve was good for that.

But now he was at Isabel's door, probably looking quite frazzled and upset, his eyes red from crying and his skin scratched by branches that he'd ignored in his haste. He stood there, not saying anything, unable to say anything, two threads all that kept him from falling into complete breakdown.

[izzyalienqueen]

Isabel had been focused in on the latest essay question, What literary or historical figure do you most identify with? when she suddenly realized there was someone at the door. A quick glance was all she needed to put the laptop aside and head over to the door to lead him into the room, shutting the door behind him.

"What's wrong?"

[hotceltogoth]

"She's dead," Ronan said, almost unresponsive, letting himself be led into the room, almost unnoticing. "She's dead," he repeated. "It's my fault. She's dead."

[izzyalienqueen]

"Who?" she asked quietly, leading him over to the bed. It was ironic in a way, in March she was the one being led. Isabel only hoped she could be as supportive and understanding as Jack and Parker had been for her.

[hotceltogoth]

"She- Michaela. Michaela's dead. She saved me, and now she's dead." Tears threated at Ronan's eyes, ready to join their brethren that had so clearly been spilled already. He started shaking, chilled; he was soaked through, though whether from sweat or from running through water somewhere was something that only Ronan would be able to tell. He was clearly winded, too, which showed how much, how long, he'd been running.

[izzyalienqueen]

Isabel grabbed the throw from the foot of her bed and draped it over his shoulders. "Relax. Which, yeah, I know. Hard to do. But take a deep breath and start at the beginning." She took a seat next to him, close enough to bump shoulders, and held out a hand.

[hotceltogoth]

Isabel's hand seemed to give him something on which to focus, for his attention was directed to it; he reached out to take it, and it seemed to bring him back to himself, at least enough to explain further. "Michaela... she... I met her while I... away. She loved me, and she... she took a shot for me. Saved my life, so that I could get back here." He pulled the throw further around him, almost seeming to shrink into himself. "She loved me, she loved me so much, and I just... if I'd loved her more, I wouldn't have tried to leave, and she'd still be alive."

[izzyalienqueen]

"I'm sorry," Isabel said simply, squeezing his hand. "But you can't blame yourself for wanting to get home."

[hotceltogoth]

"Can't I?" Ronan asked, his tears now a little more under control -- seeming so, at least -- as he looked over at Isabel. "I... Oh, Powers, Isabel, she... she loved me enough to die for me, she loved me enough to let me go; I should have loved her enough to want to stay."

[izzyalienqueen]

"When you love someone, you'll take any risk if it means keeping them safe," she nodded, thinking of what Max had done for Liz way back when. "And happy to. If you had stayed? Would you have been happy?"

[hotceltogoth]

"Of course I would have been!" Ronan said vehemently. Perhaps too vehemently. "I mean, I... Of course I'd have been happy. She loved me. Ciaran, too, in his way." Never mind the fact that before this conversation, Ronan hadn't mentioned either Michaela or Ciaran to Isabel at all. "I just... I would have missed people here, that's all. I'd already decided to stop looking for a way home, before we heard about the sword."

[izzyalienqueen]

Isabel raised an eyebrow the slightest bit. "How about this," she asked. "I'll make you some tea and we start at the beginning? I think I'll understand better if you do."

[hotceltogoth]

"... Tea would be good," Ronan said, tightening his grip on the throw. "I... yeah."

[izzyalienqueen]

"Chamomile okay? Or Lemon? No Earl Grey here, it's all herbal."

The nice thing about alien powers meant that it only took a minute before she returned to the bed with a mug of steaming hot water and a selection of tea bags and some sugar packets.

"I used to like the chamomile when I was upset."

[hotceltogoth]

"Not lemon!" It was a surprisingly strong reaction to an offered tea. "Mich-" He stopped, unable any more to say her name. "She liked lemon tea. Chamomile, please."

[izzyalienqueen]

"Chamomile it is," she nodded, opening the tea bag and dropping it into the mug before holding it out to him. "Be careful. It's hot."

Picking up her own mug of hot chocolate, Isabel sat back down and waited quietly.