I Know I've Got To Find [Narrative]
Characters: J
Content: J is having a pretty tough time coping with Starr's disappearance.
Location: BPH, J's room
Time: Sometime after this entry
Warnings: He's. Uh. Having a small breakdown. Probably not going to be pretty.
That was it, then. She was gone.
J pushed himself away from the computer in his room, stood up. He couldn't look at it anymore. Starr had disappeared from the city - no warning, no goodbyes, just gone. He just...didn't want to think about it.
But it wouldn't leave his mind. She'd been missing, and he'd been terrified that she was out in the city somewhere, hurt or worse, where he couldn't help, or that those Tagruato people had gotten her-
But Billy had said he hadn't found anything - hadn't found her - and he'd sounded pretty sure. It was a relief, but not much of one, and it left only one option: she'd returned home.
He should be happy. He should be overjoyed. Starr was home, back in her own dimension - their dimension - thanks to a quirk of whatever had brought them here in the first place. She was safe, back with the Music, out of harm's way-
But somehow those thoughts weren't filling in the hole in his chest, the one he could feel but not see. Selfish as hell, he knew, but he missed her. Platitudes he didn't believe weren't going to stop that, even if they were true. And-
Occasional loss of memory and time abnormalities were often reported.
That single line from the file, dredged from his memory, dropped him to his knees. After everything they'd been through - being bitten and worried for each other and scared as hell, finally telling her, everything-
Occasional loss of memory
-she wouldn't remember it. One technical malfunction and he'd lost her, maybe for good.
He was shaking, feeling the burning at the corners of his eyes and the cry at the back of his throat and he pushed it back, pushed it all away because he could not do this now. He couldn't afford to lose it - not here, not now, maybe not ever. The city was in turmoil and people needed help, help he needed to provide because he was an Agent and that was what he did-
loss of memory
God damn it.
He rose to his feet, grabbing the closest thing at hand - the pillow off the bed - and hurling it across the room with a scream, the freshly aching pull in his arm and the echoes off the walls and the sight of the abused pillow flopping to the ground all tore the emotion out of him, leaving him shaking and gasping and slowly putting himself back together, forcing a few pieces where they didn't quite fit, until he could stand without danger of collapsing again, could function without the threat of falling apart.
He'd deal with things later, when people weren't in danger. When they didn't need him. When he got home. For now, he kept himself together.
There was nothing else he could do.
Content: J is having a pretty tough time coping with Starr's disappearance.
Location: BPH, J's room
Time: Sometime after this entry
Warnings: He's. Uh. Having a small breakdown. Probably not going to be pretty.
That was it, then. She was gone.
J pushed himself away from the computer in his room, stood up. He couldn't look at it anymore. Starr had disappeared from the city - no warning, no goodbyes, just gone. He just...didn't want to think about it.
But it wouldn't leave his mind. She'd been missing, and he'd been terrified that she was out in the city somewhere, hurt or worse, where he couldn't help, or that those Tagruato people had gotten her-
But Billy had said he hadn't found anything - hadn't found her - and he'd sounded pretty sure. It was a relief, but not much of one, and it left only one option: she'd returned home.
He should be happy. He should be overjoyed. Starr was home, back in her own dimension - their dimension - thanks to a quirk of whatever had brought them here in the first place. She was safe, back with the Music, out of harm's way-
But somehow those thoughts weren't filling in the hole in his chest, the one he could feel but not see. Selfish as hell, he knew, but he missed her. Platitudes he didn't believe weren't going to stop that, even if they were true. And-
Occasional loss of memory and time abnormalities were often reported.
That single line from the file, dredged from his memory, dropped him to his knees. After everything they'd been through - being bitten and worried for each other and scared as hell, finally telling her, everything-
Occasional loss of memory
-she wouldn't remember it. One technical malfunction and he'd lost her, maybe for good.
He was shaking, feeling the burning at the corners of his eyes and the cry at the back of his throat and he pushed it back, pushed it all away because he could not do this now. He couldn't afford to lose it - not here, not now, maybe not ever. The city was in turmoil and people needed help, help he needed to provide because he was an Agent and that was what he did-
loss of memory
God damn it.
He rose to his feet, grabbing the closest thing at hand - the pillow off the bed - and hurling it across the room with a scream, the freshly aching pull in his arm and the echoes off the walls and the sight of the abused pillow flopping to the ground all tore the emotion out of him, leaving him shaking and gasping and slowly putting himself back together, forcing a few pieces where they didn't quite fit, until he could stand without danger of collapsing again, could function without the threat of falling apart.
He'd deal with things later, when people weren't in danger. When they didn't need him. When he got home. For now, he kept himself together.
There was nothing else he could do.