[For Daphne]
After spending the better part of the last few days holed up in some corner of the Compound, it wasn't much of a surprise that Matt found he couldn't bring himself to go back there now. Sure, it was cold, but at least he could hear his own thoughts out here. He may not have had thoughts that weren't his own running through his head anymore, but with so many people around, he might as well have.
Except now that he finally had managed to snag some measure of solitude, perched on a conveniently placed rock in an area of the woods with no footprints in the snow besides his own, he was realizing that maybe some thoughts were better left interrupted.
It had been almost a month. Almost a month since his world had been flipped upside-down (and not for the first time). Since he realized that, not only had he been following the orders of a mass murderer for god knows how long, but he'd potentially been standing in the way of the (unbelievable, ridiculous) way to fix everything. Since all his rationalizations for all the lousy things he'd done all got thrown out the window. Almost a month since he'd died.
Maybe he was overdue. Short of yet another big cosmic turnaround (which he still wasn't ruling out), this was all he was going to get. None of that other stuff mattered anymore, did it? He was going to have to accept what had come before if he ever wanted to get on with what was left of his life, right?
Easier said than done.
So Matt was left sitting there, the middle of nowhere of the middle of nowhere, snow falling in his hair, ears starting to burn from the cold, but entirely unwilling to head back inside just yet. For whatever stupid reasons he had.
Except now that he finally had managed to snag some measure of solitude, perched on a conveniently placed rock in an area of the woods with no footprints in the snow besides his own, he was realizing that maybe some thoughts were better left interrupted.
It had been almost a month. Almost a month since his world had been flipped upside-down (and not for the first time). Since he realized that, not only had he been following the orders of a mass murderer for god knows how long, but he'd potentially been standing in the way of the (unbelievable, ridiculous) way to fix everything. Since all his rationalizations for all the lousy things he'd done all got thrown out the window. Almost a month since he'd died.
Maybe he was overdue. Short of yet another big cosmic turnaround (which he still wasn't ruling out), this was all he was going to get. None of that other stuff mattered anymore, did it? He was going to have to accept what had come before if he ever wanted to get on with what was left of his life, right?
Easier said than done.
So Matt was left sitting there, the middle of nowhere of the middle of nowhere, snow falling in his hair, ears starting to burn from the cold, but entirely unwilling to head back inside just yet. For whatever stupid reasons he had.