drabbly-fic for trialia
Post-Hero Magnus/Freelander.
"How do you do it?"
Kate stood in her doorway, slouching a little against the wall. Surprised by the late hour, but pleased with the visit, Helen set down her book and waved her in.
"You shall have to be more specific. I do many things some people might find impossible or improbable."
Two steps brought Kate away from the door, hands still in her pockets. She kept her eyes up, keeping contact. Helen took that as a good sign.
"Lose people." Kate paused and broke Helen's gaze to stare down at her feet. "I've lost enough that there's a hole in me and I'm not even thirty. You're--"
"One hundred forty-eight, give or take a few weeks."
"Why are you? I mean, how do you do it? How do you sit here and read your book?" Kate tapped her chest with her hand. "This hurts like hell. Isn't being you five times as bad?"
Helen smiled. "Grief isn't a quantifiable state. Each loss has its own unique way of making itself known."
"That sounds worse- fuck, that sounds like hell."
Patting the sofa next to her, Helen put away her book. "Hell is never having the experience that comes before loss."
"Doesn't seem worth it." Kate slumped down next to her, hands in her lap and fidgeting with her fingers.
"What are the best parts of your life so far?"
Kate racked her thoughts, then sighed and stared out the window. "Are you going to tell me that there were people there that loved me, making it all worthwhile before they fucking died on me?"
Helen reached over, holding her hand above the tangle of Kate's nervous fingers before she lowered it and held them still. "I'm going to tell you that there are as many moments that make life extraordinary beautiful as there are moments where it all seems hopeless. You may not believe me today, but someday...I think you will."
Kate stiffened from her touch, but relaxed into it after a moment. "You better have one hundred thirty years to sit around and wait."
Smiling Helen tilted her head slightly. "Perhaps I will be that fortunate."
The hands beneath hers stopped moving and opened to her fingers, letting her in.
"How do you do it?"
Kate stood in her doorway, slouching a little against the wall. Surprised by the late hour, but pleased with the visit, Helen set down her book and waved her in.
"You shall have to be more specific. I do many things some people might find impossible or improbable."
Two steps brought Kate away from the door, hands still in her pockets. She kept her eyes up, keeping contact. Helen took that as a good sign.
"Lose people." Kate paused and broke Helen's gaze to stare down at her feet. "I've lost enough that there's a hole in me and I'm not even thirty. You're--"
"One hundred forty-eight, give or take a few weeks."
"Why are you? I mean, how do you do it? How do you sit here and read your book?" Kate tapped her chest with her hand. "This hurts like hell. Isn't being you five times as bad?"
Helen smiled. "Grief isn't a quantifiable state. Each loss has its own unique way of making itself known."
"That sounds worse- fuck, that sounds like hell."
Patting the sofa next to her, Helen put away her book. "Hell is never having the experience that comes before loss."
"Doesn't seem worth it." Kate slumped down next to her, hands in her lap and fidgeting with her fingers.
"What are the best parts of your life so far?"
Kate racked her thoughts, then sighed and stared out the window. "Are you going to tell me that there were people there that loved me, making it all worthwhile before they fucking died on me?"
Helen reached over, holding her hand above the tangle of Kate's nervous fingers before she lowered it and held them still. "I'm going to tell you that there are as many moments that make life extraordinary beautiful as there are moments where it all seems hopeless. You may not believe me today, but someday...I think you will."
Kate stiffened from her touch, but relaxed into it after a moment. "You better have one hundred thirty years to sit around and wait."
Smiling Helen tilted her head slightly. "Perhaps I will be that fortunate."
The hands beneath hers stopped moving and opened to her fingers, letting her in.