occhallenge: Dark
Prompt: Dark, Table 2
Warnings/Rating: PG? Focuses on issues with death and grief.
Disclaimer: Any other characters mentioned in this don't belong to me. Wes and Adalia belong to diamond9697 and Aidan belongs to muses_inc.
Notes: This is backdated to several months ago, probably around the end of February. It's been in the works for quite awhile, hence the huge word count.
Word Count: 1,749
Crossposted to occhallenge.
It had been easy with Adalia living there.
Maybe not easy, but certainly easier. Easy in comparison to how it was now.
Mia sat in her car, letting it idle in the driveway before turning off the engine. She flipped off the headlights and watched as the only light shining on the house faded, leaving it in once again darkness. A part of her dreaded to go inside. She worked late or stayed out most nights to avoid spending too much time here, and sometimes contemplated spending the night in a hotel, yet she always returned. Whether that was because of sentiment or a form of self-punishment, or even a combination of both, she didn't know.
She'd been staying with Wes and Aidan when they died. She really had nowhere else to stay as they were pretty much her only friends on this planet, and she couldn't go home for some time. Adalia was Wes' sister, and she stayed too for awhile after the funeral, so the two women lived alone in a big empty house that had been meant for others.
Together, they boxed up the boys' belongings and most of the things in the house, unable to bring themselves to get rid of anything. Mia usually offered to tackle the areas that Addy seemed to have trouble with or was reluctant to go near. It was the least she could do. And boxing up things kept her busy. Being as supportive for Adalia -- as possible as it was for Mia to have any clue what to say or do for others under these circumstances -- kept her busy. It was easier to focus on Addy than focus on her own grief, anyway.
With Addy there, she had to be the strong one. It wasn't that Mia never showed any grief, but she never showed the full extent of it. She couldn't break down. She couldn't allow herself to. That was a luxury she didn't have. It wasn't really out of a sense of martyrdom -- honestly, it would have felt a bit selfish if she'd done that to Adalia -- but it was mostly out of fear.
It was because she was afraid what would happen if she did indulge in her grief. It was fear that if she started down that path, she wasn't sure she'd ever find her way off it. She wasn't brave enough to delve into that black pit in her stomach that threatened sometimes to take over. She wasn't brave enough to find out just how deep her feelings had really gone. So for a long time, she'd kept that dark pit tamped down, under control, deep down where she tried not to look at it or wonder how deep it really went. She was afraid of it controlling her and swallowing her whole until everything was dark and nothing else remained.
She bothered only turning on a small lamp as she entered the deathly quiet house. Sometimes, she could swear there was someone else there, and not in a physical sense, but she brushed it aside as hopeful thinking or plain grief.
Normally, this house would've been filled with lights and talking and laughter and B running around and greetings and welcome home's and one of them burning something in the kitchen... Mia only made it that far in the house tonight before she slumped against the wall, silent tears running down her cheeks. There was none of that now, except their belongings, a few pictures Mia hadn't packed up, and sheets over the furniture she didn't use. No lights, no talking, no laughter. Just darkness.
Mia was no stranger to death. She was no stranger to violent death, either. The Yuuzhan Vong had invaded when she was a teenager. They'd killed hundreds of trillions of beings in her galaxy before it was over, including two of her loved ones and far too many friends and acquaintances. She'd seen people die, she'd killed others when absolutely necessary -- wounds could heal, but taking a life could never be given back. She'd come to know that anyone could go at any time, even when it wasn't during a time of war. And she knew the risks of Aidan being Immortal and the risks of Wes' job.
Yet somehow, this had been different. This had caught her by surprise. Wes and Aidan hadn't been supposed to die. Even when Aidan had been kidnapped, she knew he would be fine. She didn't know why this time was so different from all the other people she'd lost.
Maybe it was that Aidan and Wes were both filled with such a joy and love for life, and they were so happy together, that it seemed impossible for that to be extinguished. Maybe it was because Terra was her haven, that she figured it was everyone's haven. Maybe it was because they'd been two of her best friends and she'd gotten soft and assumed they'd always be there. Whatever the reason, she didn't want to accept this. She couldn't. It was wrong. This house being dark was so, so wrong.
It bothered her so much that she'd risked a trip home where she was constantly being watched for a slip up so they could arrest her again. It bothered her so much that she risked "looking into" as much of Wes Janson's history as she could get her hands on. He'd been mistakenly reported dead before, and what confused her the most was that he was alive in her time. She didn't want to believe that she was from an alternate reality, so she didn't. Which meant that he wasn't supposed to be dead. Which meant Aidan wasn't, either.
Denial had helped stave off some of the darkness of grief. She simply didn't know how to accept that they were gone. She didn't know how to accept that this house she now cried in would forever stand empty and dark, void of those who were supposed to be here.
There were times she felt separate from the few friends and family of the boys that she was in contact with. She kept the majority of her grief locked away in a safe place whenever Addy was around, whenever she spoke to any of them on the phone, because a part of her felt like she had to be the strong one in front of all of them. Mia had no blood relation to either Aidan or Wes. She wasn't a childhood friend to either of them like some of the others. She had no special connection to Aidan of immortality like others did. Everyone else was closely connected to them, except for her, it seemed.
So who was she to dump this on them? She didn't want to throw this at them when they were all struggling, not after she'd seen the grief from Addy and April and others, and... Really, it was just easier to work through this alone. They didn't even know, and would never understand. They all had some obvious, special reason to their grief. Her reason wasn't so obvious, but it was there, and had been there for a long time.
Maybe... sometimes she thought, maybe she didn't have a right to explore her grief like the others did. Though she'd loved the boys just as much as anyone else, if not more, she hadn't been around for months until just a few weeks before they died. Trapped with only her thoughts, that was what haunted her the most in these dark nights alone in the house: lost time, lost memories she never made with them, lost chances.
She'd been gone so long that when she'd come back, she was the newcomer to someone else staying with them. Had she been wrong to stay away? There were times she hated herself for it. It had seemed wise at the time, but now, she wished she had done things differently.
Time. That was a funny concept, considering when she was from.
Sometimes, she wondered if it was her fault because she'd come back when she had. Other times, she wondered if somehow, it was her fault because she was there at all. That she'd changed some event she wasn't supposed to by traveling back in the past like she did. She didn't know what she was doing with that wormhole. She didn't even know how it worked.
Sometimes, she wondered if there was anything she could have done to make things turn out differently. If she'd come back at an earlier time, maybe that would've influenced the chain of events somehow to unfold a different way. If she'd known about them going, maybe she could have gone along or maybe they could have kept a closer watch on enemies or maybe... she'd failed them in a dozen other ways.
After all, she seemed to be cursed. She was always slowly but constantly losing people she cared about, losing them in one way or another. Anything and anyone she loved seemed to wither and die away or slip through her fingers. It never lasted, no matter how much she cared or how much she tried. Self-pity, maybe, but it felt like the truth when she was at her worst. And maybe self-pity was easier to deal with than remembering what she'd lost.
Her thoughts confused her a lot. She wasn't sure they always made sense. It sometimes felt completely rational while being utterly illogical in her mind. Other times she thought she might almost be going insane.
She knew one thing for certain. She missed them. She missed them so much she didn't know how to handle it. Didn't know what the next step was. The thought of forever having lost two of her best friends left her stumbling on a dark path with no destination and no direction. What was worse was that without them, most days she didn't even care. Nothing mattered anymore.
In the back of her mind, she knew it would eventually -- maybe -- get better, and she'd find her way off this path. But there was a part of her that didn't want to. All she wanted right now was to hold on somehow, hold on to them by holding on to the empty house, holding on to memories she had or wished she had. Whether the darkness inside went away or not didn't matter, because the rest of the world would always still seem dark without them.
Warnings/Rating: PG? Focuses on issues with death and grief.
Disclaimer: Any other characters mentioned in this don't belong to me. Wes and Adalia belong to diamond9697 and Aidan belongs to muses_inc.
Notes: This is backdated to several months ago, probably around the end of February. It's been in the works for quite awhile, hence the huge word count.
Word Count: 1,749
Crossposted to occhallenge.
It had been easy with Adalia living there.
Maybe not easy, but certainly easier. Easy in comparison to how it was now.
Mia sat in her car, letting it idle in the driveway before turning off the engine. She flipped off the headlights and watched as the only light shining on the house faded, leaving it in once again darkness. A part of her dreaded to go inside. She worked late or stayed out most nights to avoid spending too much time here, and sometimes contemplated spending the night in a hotel, yet she always returned. Whether that was because of sentiment or a form of self-punishment, or even a combination of both, she didn't know.
She'd been staying with Wes and Aidan when they died. She really had nowhere else to stay as they were pretty much her only friends on this planet, and she couldn't go home for some time. Adalia was Wes' sister, and she stayed too for awhile after the funeral, so the two women lived alone in a big empty house that had been meant for others.
Together, they boxed up the boys' belongings and most of the things in the house, unable to bring themselves to get rid of anything. Mia usually offered to tackle the areas that Addy seemed to have trouble with or was reluctant to go near. It was the least she could do. And boxing up things kept her busy. Being as supportive for Adalia -- as possible as it was for Mia to have any clue what to say or do for others under these circumstances -- kept her busy. It was easier to focus on Addy than focus on her own grief, anyway.
With Addy there, she had to be the strong one. It wasn't that Mia never showed any grief, but she never showed the full extent of it. She couldn't break down. She couldn't allow herself to. That was a luxury she didn't have. It wasn't really out of a sense of martyrdom -- honestly, it would have felt a bit selfish if she'd done that to Adalia -- but it was mostly out of fear.
It was because she was afraid what would happen if she did indulge in her grief. It was fear that if she started down that path, she wasn't sure she'd ever find her way off it. She wasn't brave enough to delve into that black pit in her stomach that threatened sometimes to take over. She wasn't brave enough to find out just how deep her feelings had really gone. So for a long time, she'd kept that dark pit tamped down, under control, deep down where she tried not to look at it or wonder how deep it really went. She was afraid of it controlling her and swallowing her whole until everything was dark and nothing else remained.
She bothered only turning on a small lamp as she entered the deathly quiet house. Sometimes, she could swear there was someone else there, and not in a physical sense, but she brushed it aside as hopeful thinking or plain grief.
Normally, this house would've been filled with lights and talking and laughter and B running around and greetings and welcome home's and one of them burning something in the kitchen... Mia only made it that far in the house tonight before she slumped against the wall, silent tears running down her cheeks. There was none of that now, except their belongings, a few pictures Mia hadn't packed up, and sheets over the furniture she didn't use. No lights, no talking, no laughter. Just darkness.
Mia was no stranger to death. She was no stranger to violent death, either. The Yuuzhan Vong had invaded when she was a teenager. They'd killed hundreds of trillions of beings in her galaxy before it was over, including two of her loved ones and far too many friends and acquaintances. She'd seen people die, she'd killed others when absolutely necessary -- wounds could heal, but taking a life could never be given back. She'd come to know that anyone could go at any time, even when it wasn't during a time of war. And she knew the risks of Aidan being Immortal and the risks of Wes' job.
Yet somehow, this had been different. This had caught her by surprise. Wes and Aidan hadn't been supposed to die. Even when Aidan had been kidnapped, she knew he would be fine. She didn't know why this time was so different from all the other people she'd lost.
Maybe it was that Aidan and Wes were both filled with such a joy and love for life, and they were so happy together, that it seemed impossible for that to be extinguished. Maybe it was because Terra was her haven, that she figured it was everyone's haven. Maybe it was because they'd been two of her best friends and she'd gotten soft and assumed they'd always be there. Whatever the reason, she didn't want to accept this. She couldn't. It was wrong. This house being dark was so, so wrong.
It bothered her so much that she'd risked a trip home where she was constantly being watched for a slip up so they could arrest her again. It bothered her so much that she risked "looking into" as much of Wes Janson's history as she could get her hands on. He'd been mistakenly reported dead before, and what confused her the most was that he was alive in her time. She didn't want to believe that she was from an alternate reality, so she didn't. Which meant that he wasn't supposed to be dead. Which meant Aidan wasn't, either.
Denial had helped stave off some of the darkness of grief. She simply didn't know how to accept that they were gone. She didn't know how to accept that this house she now cried in would forever stand empty and dark, void of those who were supposed to be here.
There were times she felt separate from the few friends and family of the boys that she was in contact with. She kept the majority of her grief locked away in a safe place whenever Addy was around, whenever she spoke to any of them on the phone, because a part of her felt like she had to be the strong one in front of all of them. Mia had no blood relation to either Aidan or Wes. She wasn't a childhood friend to either of them like some of the others. She had no special connection to Aidan of immortality like others did. Everyone else was closely connected to them, except for her, it seemed.
So who was she to dump this on them? She didn't want to throw this at them when they were all struggling, not after she'd seen the grief from Addy and April and others, and... Really, it was just easier to work through this alone. They didn't even know, and would never understand. They all had some obvious, special reason to their grief. Her reason wasn't so obvious, but it was there, and had been there for a long time.
Maybe... sometimes she thought, maybe she didn't have a right to explore her grief like the others did. Though she'd loved the boys just as much as anyone else, if not more, she hadn't been around for months until just a few weeks before they died. Trapped with only her thoughts, that was what haunted her the most in these dark nights alone in the house: lost time, lost memories she never made with them, lost chances.
She'd been gone so long that when she'd come back, she was the newcomer to someone else staying with them. Had she been wrong to stay away? There were times she hated herself for it. It had seemed wise at the time, but now, she wished she had done things differently.
Time. That was a funny concept, considering when she was from.
Sometimes, she wondered if it was her fault because she'd come back when she had. Other times, she wondered if somehow, it was her fault because she was there at all. That she'd changed some event she wasn't supposed to by traveling back in the past like she did. She didn't know what she was doing with that wormhole. She didn't even know how it worked.
Sometimes, she wondered if there was anything she could have done to make things turn out differently. If she'd come back at an earlier time, maybe that would've influenced the chain of events somehow to unfold a different way. If she'd known about them going, maybe she could have gone along or maybe they could have kept a closer watch on enemies or maybe... she'd failed them in a dozen other ways.
After all, she seemed to be cursed. She was always slowly but constantly losing people she cared about, losing them in one way or another. Anything and anyone she loved seemed to wither and die away or slip through her fingers. It never lasted, no matter how much she cared or how much she tried. Self-pity, maybe, but it felt like the truth when she was at her worst. And maybe self-pity was easier to deal with than remembering what she'd lost.
Her thoughts confused her a lot. She wasn't sure they always made sense. It sometimes felt completely rational while being utterly illogical in her mind. Other times she thought she might almost be going insane.
She knew one thing for certain. She missed them. She missed them so much she didn't know how to handle it. Didn't know what the next step was. The thought of forever having lost two of her best friends left her stumbling on a dark path with no destination and no direction. What was worse was that without them, most days she didn't even care. Nothing mattered anymore.
In the back of her mind, she knew it would eventually -- maybe -- get better, and she'd find her way off this path. But there was a part of her that didn't want to. All she wanted right now was to hold on somehow, hold on to them by holding on to the empty house, holding on to memories she had or wished she had. Whether the darkness inside went away or not didn't matter, because the rest of the world would always still seem dark without them.