(no subject)
It's what she sees every morning as she wakes up, without the assistance of any alarm. Somehow, over the past couple of months, she's officially switched to running on island time, but it's a little hard to celebrate that milestone when Annie can't help but feel like she's regressing every time she catches a glimpse of the bracelet dangling from the lamp at her bedside. It's her own fault; she hasn't been wearing it on a regular basis, and the day she stopped wearing it was the day it took up residence there, an ever-constant reminder of the man who had almost bled out in her arms seconds before she'd literally jumped into another world.
He's fine, though. He's alive. Auggie had told her as much, and every now and then, when the memory filters through into her consciousness, she has to remind herself of that fact. From what she knows, from what he'd been able to share with her, he'd recovered in a military hospital only to pull another disappearing act, and as much as the news had stung, a part of her isn't all that surprised. It's the part that knows, deep down, that Ben will always be running in one form or another - never able to settle - and it's that reason alone that hits her this morning, as she sits in her bed, her fingertips moving over the white shells linked by the black string. He'll always be running, but ultimately, it won't be in her direction. Not forever.
She's still holding the bracelet in her hand when she ends up standing at the shoreline at the end of the path she takes from the Compound. She can feel the familiar weight of it, thumbing the smooth outside of a single shell. Her fingers curl around the bracelet and she winds back, preparing to throw, preparing to release the weight and the hurt and the memories. The tension in her arm falters and she lets her hand fall to her side with a sigh, her gaze dropping to the sand, mixed emotions bottling up in her chest and threatening to brim over. One good shake and she's bound to explode.
[Timed to Wednesday, early morning. ST/LT definitely welcome; it's a good time to meet her despite her failing attempts to have a cathartic experience. :D]
He's fine, though. He's alive. Auggie had told her as much, and every now and then, when the memory filters through into her consciousness, she has to remind herself of that fact. From what she knows, from what he'd been able to share with her, he'd recovered in a military hospital only to pull another disappearing act, and as much as the news had stung, a part of her isn't all that surprised. It's the part that knows, deep down, that Ben will always be running in one form or another - never able to settle - and it's that reason alone that hits her this morning, as she sits in her bed, her fingertips moving over the white shells linked by the black string. He'll always be running, but ultimately, it won't be in her direction. Not forever.
She's still holding the bracelet in her hand when she ends up standing at the shoreline at the end of the path she takes from the Compound. She can feel the familiar weight of it, thumbing the smooth outside of a single shell. Her fingers curl around the bracelet and she winds back, preparing to throw, preparing to release the weight and the hurt and the memories. The tension in her arm falters and she lets her hand fall to her side with a sigh, her gaze dropping to the sand, mixed emotions bottling up in her chest and threatening to brim over. One good shake and she's bound to explode.
[Timed to Wednesday, early morning. ST/LT definitely welcome; it's a good time to meet her despite her failing attempts to have a cathartic experience. :D]