09 | location: old city sanctuary | refused to have

[longaevus]

She'd lost many people over the years; many friends, lovers. And family. She'd stopped allowing herself to get close to people long ago. After Ashley had died that distance had only increased

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ty for tagging me

[troublescleaner]

Dwight isn't new to imagining Lizzy. She would have been nine years old now, beautiful with her mother's eyes and his own hair, only softer. She would have been prattling on and on about the Nutcracker the moment she saw the snow. It was a little thing, but Dwight always made sure to drive to Baltimore with her just to see it before Christmas. She knows the entire ballet by heart and sometimes Dwight thinks he does, too.

It's hard, but Dwight's moved on. Or so he tells himself. The Teagues know better and keep an eye on him around the time her birthday rolls around, because Dwight starts to get stupid with his jobs, but otherwise he's moved on. He doesn't tell anyone about the laughter, about the pitter-patter of footsteps he still sees. And she's always in her tutu, mid-plie. She's moving now, though, and Dwight can't help but follow her.

She's never moved before. He hadn't even been drinking.

The little girl leads him to a shooting range and Dwight's not even paying attention to the noise because she's here, his little girl

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[longaevus]

Her heart was breaking all over again, although that would suggest that it had begun to mend. She was fighting, with herself, her emotions and everything that pulled at them to keep her composure; she couldn't afford to lose it, not if she wanted to retain her focus.

She'd managed to hit her target straight on with every shot. She paused, shutting her eyes to clear Ashley from her sight.

"Mom." She wasn't speaking but Helen could hear it from her memories clear enough.

"I'm sorry."

She forced her eyes open again, shooting to push herself past the memory, push herself away before she completely broke.

Except this time she missed. Although it didn't exactly miss but... change direction?

[troublescleaner]

He felt the shot before he heard it, but he was positive it was pain tended to register quicker than sound for him, thanks to a lovely tour of Afghanistan. He felt a dull thud and then the wind being knocked out of him, dropping against the wall and then sliding down it like some sort of cartoon animal.

It was instinct that kicked in, telling him to breathe evenly and close his eyes to get rid of the sudden vertigo. The bullet had sent a shock to his system and he was stunned, momentarily, before opening his eyes and grunting. Short, gruff, and slightly pained.

Lizzy had been another hallucination. One that wanted him killed.

Wincing, Dwight opened his eyes and, after a few seconds of sitting absolutely still, began to undo his shit to examine the damage done to his vest.

[longaevus]

Helen turned in the direction, surprised first that Dwight was there and then horrified in the realisation of what his actions meant. She'd shot him. How Helen had no idea but that wasn't important - she had to check the damage... her damage.

She moved quickly to him, putting her gun down as she reached him and helped with undoing his shirt. She was surprised to note a lack of blood on it and more so when she noticed the vest underneath it. A bulletproof vest? She hadn't noted it during her previous examination, although her work had been confined to another area. Had he arrived wearing it? And if so he was lucky for having it.

"It hasn't perforated the vest." She's still poking at it, using her actions and concentration to hide herself.

"You're rather lucky."

[smecker]

Paul comes in to the range with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder, staring around himself like he's not quite sure why's here. How he got in, even.

He sees Helen-- starts a bit.

"Sorry," he mutters. "I... was following someone. I'm intruding though, I think."