Homeplot: Aftermath

[missingthekeep]

When Sean doesn't wake up to the sound of the alarm, he assumes that he's just too early. The light in the room begs to differ, though, and while he likely wouldn't be able to get back to sleep either way, he forces himself to begin the tedious process of waking up. That in and of itself is something odd, since it isn't usually a process as such

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[drownondryland]

Meredith makes a sound of protest, his sitting up jolting her more awake than she wants to be though she refuses to open her eyes right off. Rolling toward him, she shakes her head. "No," she says, "no - oh, crap, are we late?" They can't actually be late, she reasons a moment later, blinking hard to clear her vision, since it's their wedding, and someone would have come to wake them, but it feels late.

It is, she realizes as she props herself up, breath catching in her throat. It's late, but it doesn't matter.

[missingthekeep]

"S'pose ye could say that," Sean says, with a twinge in the back of his throat that he thought he'd left behind days ago. Denial can only take a man so far. There's a moment, just a moment, where he curls slightly in on himself, unable to take it, but then it passes and he's moving again, turning himself to sit on the edge of the bed, sore and dizzy and suddenly brimming with nervous energy, all that keeps him from shutting down completely. "Oh, God."

[drownondryland]

Meredith wants to believe it isn't real, that this is the dream, but no matter how good things have been for what she thought were weeks now, the truth, she knows, is that this is her life. Waves of good always recede, always give way to how things have always been, and why did she think that was going to change? She sits up more fully, closing her eyes, trying to push away that line of thought. This is bad, this is so bad, but it's not the end of the world. (Except it feels a little like it - no wedding, no daughter, no future in some city doing what they love.)

"But we were there for weeks," she says, "well over a month, it - it doesn't work like that. That's not how it's supposed to work."

[missingthekeep]

"Well then ye'd best tell whoever's in charge here, since there's obviously been a terrible mix-up," Sean snaps, and while he means to apologize a moments later, he's interrupted by a brief, stinging cough, injuries that were supposed to be long healed. He leans forward a bit with his elbows on his knees, sheets tangled around his waist, and just focuses on breathing for a moment. It's probably about the only thing he's capable of handling right about now.

[drownondryland]

Meredith bites back her own retort, pushing up to her knees to head over to him instead, hand at his back. This shouldn't be happening, he shouldn't be having this trouble, because he should be healed by now. It's difficult to wrap her mind around the idea it's probably only been a matter of days, two or three at most, when she thought they'd left this place entirely behind. "You don't have to yell at me," she says, quieter than she intended to originally.

[missingthekeep]

His back stiffens slightly at her touch, but Sean leans back into it anyway, eyes closing for a second. It's only a moment of respite, but it's all he gets right now. At least it's something. "'M sorry," he mutters roughly, shaking his head. It's gone, just like that, all of it. A wedding, a family, an entire bloody life, ripped away from him overnight. He can't be venting his anger in Meredith's direction, but it has to go somewhere because right now, it's proving even harder to hold in than the unbearable sadness.

"Son of a bitch!," he cries, his voice breaking on it as he lashes out, and suddenly, with a vaguely satisfying smash, he no longer has a lamp on his bedside table.

[drownondryland]

"Sean!" Meredith sits up straighter, hand falling to her lap as she stares at him. The realization of how much they've lost is still sinking in, but even now, she has to acknowledge it's worse for him than it is for her, bad as that might be. That doesn't make her any less startled or any more pleased by this reaction. She has to suppress the urge to get to her feet and take care of the mess, just because it's the one thing it looks like she can fix; staying with him's more important right now. "I know. I know."

[missingthekeep]

His breathing is a touch more laboured, but beyond that, Sean gives no reaction to his little outburst or her response to it. It takes a few seconds, but eventually, he tears his gaze away from the shattered lamp and turns to look over his shoulder at Meredith, having to actively remind himself that he's not the only one who's feeling this. She was just as ready and willing as he was to throw herself into that life. "We should've known it wouldnae be so easy."

He should have known better.

[drownondryland]

"It wasn't," Meredith says. It was, though. All the hard parts were just details after the fact, and she has to fight to remind herself of any trouble they had, so much of it left squarely in those first few days, worth it for what they got in return. "We could have been killed. Several times over, in fact. And when we got out of that, no one even liked me for the longest time and - it wasn't all easy." It was a lot easier than anything else has been, but she refuses to acknowledge he's right, even if she's already thought the same thing. Life's never been that right for them before.

[missingthekeep]

Sean suspects that that's intended to make him feel better somehow, but that's not something which is going to come easily to them, either. "Please," he scoffs, shaking his head. "Fer all that we did, fer all that we had? It was nothin'." A proper life, a wide-open future, the chance to be the father he never was... what are a few near-death experiences and a slightly bruised ego on Meredith's part when compared to all that? Still, he can almost see her point. It just doesn't help much when, even if all that transpired was no better or worse than what they usually go through, he still shouldn't have been so sure that it would last. He never learns.

[drownondryland]

The trouble is, it feels so close still, like the could turn around and get back somehow. Meredith doesn't know how, but it feels possible, even as part of her mind reminds her none of it was real anyway (but it felt it). He's right, she knows he's right. She can't just curl up in bed and wallow in the loss, though, the way she might ordinarily want to, because it's his loss, too. "I really thought it was real this time."

[missingthekeep]

"Yeah," Sean says, biting the inside of his cheek hard as he turns back toward the wall and nods. Unconsciously, he reaches up to his shoulder and runs his fingers along the spot where the bullet passed through, the unmarred skin serving as more proof that none of it actually came to pass. "Me, too." He still can't help but feel like he should have sensed something was amiss, should have caught this somehow. It was his world, his responsibility. How could he have been taken in so completely? At the very least, he should have waited longer than a few lousy days before throwing himself into having a life there with hardly a care, dragging Meredith in with him as usual.

"How were we ta know? 'S jus' like last time, innit? Nae quite real, but so much more'n a dream." Even now, even feeling overwhelmed by his grief and rage at losing almost everything wonderful he had just a few short hours ago, he can't dismiss it as nothing more than a dream. "Maybe it'd be easier if'n it was."

[drownondryland]

"It is not just a dream," Meredith says, drawing her legs up to her chest and leaning against them. Dreams don't work like that. They don't make that much sense, they aren't that linear, they don't change things like that. She bites her lip and holds her breath until she remembers she can't do that indefinitely. It would be easier, he's right, if it were some chaotic mess that didn't feel real, if she didn't feel like she'd been home. Made one, anyway, which is almost better. "Just like last time, but... How do we know? How will we know when we really get back? We'll never be sure -" She sucks in a deep breath, sharp, and looks away though neither of them is looking at the other as it is.

[missingthekeep]

It's too much to ask of him, that he think of whatever future they may yet have outside of this place when he's still wrapping his head around the enormous task of getting over the one they've just lost. That their salvation, should they ever find it, will be marred by them constantly looking over their shoulders, waiting to be pulled back to this place... it's too much, and Sean simply can't deal with it right now.

"No guarantees in life," he mutters sadly, shaking his head before he tries to stand, even though proper feeling is only really just starting to come back to his feet. "I knew that once. We'll make do." As always.

[drownondryland]

They should head over to the clinic and get checked, they should get something to eat and to drink, but Meredith can't make these repeated warnings stick. She doesn't want to get up and keep moving, not yet. It's too much, to keep going like she's reconciled to being here when she doesn't want to. She'd refuse to if she thought it would make any difference, but they're here, wherever that is. No baby, no wedding. No family. Maybe it's for the best this way. She's not fit to be anyone's mother. "Where are you going?"

[missingthekeep]

"Up, away, I dinnae..." Sean non-answers, giving another solitary shake of his head as he trails off and gets up. He pushes himself too hard, too fast, though, and he stumbles ever so slightly, sliding his foot out to catch himself and landing it right on a shard of broken lamp. With a sharp inhalation of pain, he sits himself roughly back down, his language taking another rapid turn for the blue side. That's one good way to avoid a question, he supposes.