"Hey," said Ronon drawing to a halt in front of his former ITF colleague. He'd only been out for a run and mostly he ignored people and concentrated on getting from one place to another regardless of the island scenery. Not today though, "you need anything?" He was aware it was a dumb question - but the offer of help was well meant.
Robbie shook his head. "No," he answered, taking a long draw of his cigarette. "Right now, the boys are asleep at the same time for for the first time all day. I'm just hoping they stay that way for an hour or so." Longer than that would be better; a nap of anything less than three hours and they were irritable and cranky.
Ronon nodded, he was aware given the circumstance that having them two infants that age asleep at the same time was an achievement. "It's a good start," he offered.
"Yeah." Robbie closed his eyes for a minute before glancing over at the house. "They miss their mother," he said quietly. "I know it sounds quite stupid, they're only two months old, but they really do."
Duck doesn't mean to end up here. He's only taken the walk to shake the sawdust from his overalls, clear his head of any thoughts of the support group before he goes home, so it's with surprise that he comes across Robbie standing in front of his hut.
Duck knows he's just lost his girl. Cecelia, Duck thinks - real young and pretty and leaving more than Robbie behind.
The hand Duck raises in greeting is cautious, feet turned to leave just as easily as come forward.
Robbie nodded in acknowledgement, taking a deep pull from his cigarette. "Afternoon," he said, noticing Duck was in his overalls. "Busy morning?" The attempt at normal conversation was something of a defense mechanism to keep from dwelling on the ache of loss that pierced him.
"Not bad," says Duck, taking that step forward now that he's been addressed. "Just hard. You know how it is on the hot days."
From here he can see the circles under Robbie's eyes, the tall pile of materials beneath their tarp, and his smile of greeting saddens. "How're the kids?"
"They're well," said Robbie, glancing toward the house. "Sleeping, right now. Hopefully for a good couple of hours. They're a bit cross if they don't get enough sleep." He wasn't sure how much babies were supposed to sleep each day, but he figured if they woke up cross, it wasn't enough.
Briony should not be there. She knew full well that she was intruding, intruding upon grounds from which she had been banished by silently emphatic decree. But her confusion outweighed her fear, her need to see loose ends tied up and everything arranged appropriately, as best suited all parties, compelled her forward. With any luck, she would encounter Cee, Robbie departed or asleep. Cee would make a decision, cold and clinical, leave Briony stung but alive.
She was not so sure about Robbie.
And Robbie was whom she found, approaching that cheerful but piecemeal house on that spring afternoon. A sheet of paper was tucked into the pocket of her dress, a talisman to grant her safe passage, and with the dry feel of it against her fingers she approached the man she had so cursed, quiet, humble and apologetic.
Robbie looked up when Briony approached, and instead of the usual anger at the sight of her, he felt an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. A bit of trepidation, as well; he had been putting off telling them of Cecilia's disappearance, not because he did not want to be around them (although that was still true), for he felt that despite what he felt for them they should be informed of what had happened to their sister. His procrastination had more to do with his belief, somewhere inside him, that when he finally told Briony and Leon, that it would be real and he had given up hope that this was just some sort of island trickery. Cecilia would be gone and it would be final. Their sons would not grow up knowing their mother, just as Robbie had not known his father.
"Sit down, Briony," he said to her. His voice was not the curt, sharp tone he had come to use whenever he spoke to her, but one flat and dull with weariness.
That lack of heat startled her, surprised her to a halt, and for a few moments she stood blinking before him, a creature uncertain of her new surroundings. But Briony did comply, moving without a sound to take a seat. She tried to position herself as far from Robbie as possible, without making the effort obvious, and tucked her skirt around her knees.
She wanted to ask him why he was so calm around her, but she felt certain Robbie might explode at her any minute and she did not wish to press the issue by speaking badly.
It was hard for Robbie to form his thoughts into sounds and the sounds into words, and so it was several minutes before he finally spoke again--several minutes in which he finished his cigarette, not looking at Briony as he did so. "It's Cecilia," he said finally, stubbing the remains of his cigarette into the ground. "She's gone."
There it was. He had said the words, and in doing so made an admission that he had given up hope of her return. There was no taking them back.
What Leon was doing at that moment could only properly be called lurking. He hadn't spoke to Cecilia since the birth of the twins, that dismissal as sharp as any others, and no matter that he had barely caught a glimpse of his nephews. And this time he had tried to stay away, truly he had. Something in the colds looks of the birthing room. Cecilia was well and happy - more so when he was not there. It would not be the first time Leon had determined once-and-for-all to keep his distance, but he was determined this time
( ... )
Robbie had been putting off telling Briony and Leon of their sister's disappearance simply to avoid the finality of it. There was that, and there was the fact that Robbie did not want to leave his sons in the care of anyone else for fear that they would disappear, even though both Ronon and Dr Keller had offered to help him in any way he needed. It was not that he did not trust them. It was simply that he did not want to let the boys out of sight or earshot for the time it would take to search out the Tallis siblings and give them the news. The intensely negative emotions he still felt for his brother- and sister-in-law had nothing to do with it.
And now Leon was standing in his yard and Robbie had no choice but to accept the finality of it and tell Leon what had happened. It took a long few minutes for him to force himself to speak to Leon, and when he did, he could not make himself soften the blow for fear he would not speak it at all. "Cecilia has disappeared," he said quietly.
Leon could only look up in bafflement as he was addressed. He had not even expected Robbie to speak to him, let alone to deliver news of such painful finality. For a single mad moment he was certain Robbie must be speaking to someone else, and of another Cecilia. That sounded more possible than the truth.
"What-" Leon could only blink stupidly. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"She's disappeared, Leon," Robbie repeated patiently. He did not have the energy to be annoyed by Leon's presence, not today. "The way that people disappear from this island all the time. She's gone." He let out a long, tense breath, and stubbed out his cigarette.
Laura knew who he was, of course. He was on the Island Task Force, just like her. But that didn't mean she'd actually had a real conversation with the guy. Now seemed as good a time as any, especially since she wasn't needed anywhere in particular and, hey, that shady tree looked inviting.
"Turner, right?" she said in greeting, stopping a few feet in front of him and smiling.
"Yeah," said Robbie, after exhaling a small cloud of smoke in the opposite direction. "Robbie Turner. You're on the ITF, I believe?"
Small talk, trivial and meaningless. It was good enough to keep his mind off Cecilia. He could keep making small talk and put off thinking of what he had lost, what his sons had lost.
"I am." She nodded, and then extended her hand. "Laura. Cadman." Smirking a little, she gestured over her shoulder with her free hand. "I live that way, in New Atlantis. I...worked with Colonel Sheppard before coming here."
Robbie shook her hand. "He's a good man," Robbie said. "It seems there are quite a few people from this Atlantis here on the island." Sheppard had been understanding when Robbie had resigned from the island task force. It wasn't that Robbie felt it unimportant, but he could not be away from the boys for as much time as it took to train--not with their mother gone.
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Duck knows he's just lost his girl. Cecelia, Duck thinks - real young and pretty and leaving more than Robbie behind.
The hand Duck raises in greeting is cautious, feet turned to leave just as easily as come forward.
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From here he can see the circles under Robbie's eyes, the tall pile of materials beneath their tarp, and his smile of greeting saddens. "How're the kids?"
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She was not so sure about Robbie.
And Robbie was whom she found, approaching that cheerful but piecemeal house on that spring afternoon. A sheet of paper was tucked into the pocket of her dress, a talisman to grant her safe passage, and with the dry feel of it against her fingers she approached the man she had so cursed, quiet, humble and apologetic.
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"Sit down, Briony," he said to her. His voice was not the curt, sharp tone he had come to use whenever he spoke to her, but one flat and dull with weariness.
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She wanted to ask him why he was so calm around her, but she felt certain Robbie might explode at her any minute and she did not wish to press the issue by speaking badly.
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There it was. He had said the words, and in doing so made an admission that he had given up hope of her return. There was no taking them back.
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And now Leon was standing in his yard and Robbie had no choice but to accept the finality of it and tell Leon what had happened. It took a long few minutes for him to force himself to speak to Leon, and when he did, he could not make himself soften the blow for fear he would not speak it at all. "Cecilia has disappeared," he said quietly.
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"What-" Leon could only blink stupidly. "What the hell are you talking about?"
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"Turner, right?" she said in greeting, stopping a few feet in front of him and smiling.
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Small talk, trivial and meaningless. It was good enough to keep his mind off Cecilia. He could keep making small talk and put off thinking of what he had lost, what his sons had lost.
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