It's late when Wichita realizes she can't sleep, but she's quiet as she untangles herself from Columbus and slips out of bed without making a sound, moving on silent feet across the floor
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There was no good reason for her to be out this late, but sometimes Kate found herself out just because she could be. There was no curfew, no parents to tell her that it was time to come home, that it was time to sleep. No grounding just because she wasn't in bed by midnight. In truth, she wasn't even going anywhere, but there she was anyway, near the ferris wheel when she spotted Wichita.
"Hey," she said as she approached, then paused when she realized something was off. Wichita was shaking and Kate frowned, hurrying closer. "Hey," she said again, but her tone had changed, confused and a little concerned.
She straightens up almost instantly at the sound of a voice. Never mind the part where she knows who it is, especially after Kate speaks again, louder and more worried. She picks herself up and quickly swipes a fingertip underneath her eyes, brushing away any evidence of her crying before she turns around, forcing a smile.
"Hey," she greets, trying to stay casual, but there's a trembling in her voice that she can't attempt to hide.
"What's going on?" Kate asked, because it was pretty obvious something was going on. Even when they'd first met -- in this spot, Kate realized -- Wichita had seemed totally pulled together. There hadn't even been a hint of a shake in her voice, but now there was definitely something wrong.
Not everyone liked to talk, Kate knew that. She was one of those people who preferred not to talk most of the time, but that didn't meant she wasn't going to ask. She had to ask.
I'm okay, it's fine, don't worry about it, is what she really wants to say, but instead she can feel the tears starting to brim over again, her lower lip trembling, and she whirls around to hide it from Kate, one hand clenching into a fist in frustration.
"Shit. Shit, I'm sorry," she breathes, rubbing the heel of her other hand beneath her eyes again.
"Hey," Sarah says, when she sees the silhouette from several feet away.
She's been out for hours with a grey sweater wrapped tight around her frame. She feels better at night, so she selfishly tries to prolong those hours as best as she can. Still, she's not sure how long that will last before the sickness begins to infiltrate every aspect of her life. It's good for Sarah to focus on other people right now, so she focuses on Wichita and lets her stilted concern come through. "What's wrong? Can I help?"
"Sarah, hey," she murmurs, and it manages to come out surprisingly confidently as she forces herself to speak up a little louder, much smoother than she feels inside.
"I wasn't under the impression that anyone else stayed out this late, but when you don't have a clock to count on, it's probably easy to lose track of time, isn't it?" She'd lost track of time, how long it's been since she's seen her sister, and the thought of that has her turning, clearing her throat.
"I haven't been feeling the best," she admits, which is an understated way of talking about how sick she's been. She doesn't know how much Columbus tells Wichita about Sarah, but she doesn't want to overwhelm her in the case that the answer is 'not much'. She brings the sweater tighter around her frame. "What are you doing out here, anyway?"
"Running," she replies, throwing her arms out to her sides - as if the sweat and the fact that she's still breathing hard is enough to serve as indication.
"Mostly because I couldn't sleep. I'm not used to sleeping, not for long periods of time."
So I wake up and find her gone and, for a moment, I panic because I'm so aware of how fragile everything is. Especially since I spoke to Sarah. I go out looking for her, still in pajama pants and a t-shirt that could belong to either of us.
When I find her, I on't say anything at first. I just sink down and sit beside her.
She doesn't think at all, doesn't even have to look to see it's him, and she's tipping her cheek against his shoulder seconds after he's sitting by her side, turning her face in against the warmth of his chest, giving in to silent sobs.
"I forgot," she manages, after drawing in a shaky breath. "I started forgetting about her. God, who does that?"
I wrap my arms around her, like it's the easiest thing in the world - and it is. It really is. I keep her close and I rest my cheek against her hair.
"You can't...hang on to anything, Wichita," I say, quietly. "You'll drive yourself mad. And, you know...I think we...I think we better than anyone, we know how to...put things away so it doesn't kill us." I swallow. "Don't punish yourself for figuring out how to survive, okay?"
And it's always so easy for her to just relax into him, to let everything go that she struggles to hold back in front of others. As much as she's starting to trust a few people now, there's no one she trusts more than him, with all of it.
"I just feel like such a shitty person for not thinking about her," she admits, lifting her head and swiping a finger beneath her eyes. "She was the only family I had, you know, before you came along, and I just - I wish she could be here with us." She looks down at her hands, sniffing softly. "Sometimes I think I put up this face for so long, this attitude where I don't need anybody else, that it's bound to backfire eventually."
Ginny could not help it. The more she tried to fight it, the more she kept yawning. It made sense given that she was out fairly late. When she eventually made it home and climbed in her bedroom window, she knew a lecture was likely in the cards. It was kind of strange that even though most of her family wasn't here, she found herself falling into familiar habits.
Another yawn as she continued her somewhat aimless wander, wondering if maybe she ought to turn around and head home. Not now. She used to stay up much later than this anyways. Catching sight of someone walking along, she lifted her hand in a wave despite the poor light.
"Hullo there," she said squinting to make out who it was but not having much luck.
It's weird, for starters, hearing a voice that could almost be hers if not for the accent coming out of someone else's mouth, and for a second she's starting to think she's really lost it. But then she remembers the girl who looks like her and Olive, the one in her dance class with her, the girl whose name escapes her right at the moment.
She jerks upward, immediately wiping under her eyes and sniffing audibly to try and hide all remnants of crying, nodding politely even as she tries to keep her face hidden. "Hey," she replies.
The moment her eyes caught on the familiar face Ginny's heart did that familiar skip. She shared a class with this one, the one with the darker hair and the funny name. The one who wasn't the one who lectures, which wasn't exactly fair, but that's really all that Ginny remembered about the first of her doubles that she met. She really ought to meet the girl again when she's with it a bit more.
"Are you..." she started to ask, putting two and two together and deciding suddenly to not say anything at all. It would make the whole a little weird. Well, stranger than it already was. "Um. Nice night, right?"
She's grateful for the other girl not pointing out the fact that she's in the middle of a breakdown right now, especially since she probably knows what one looks like on a face that could be hers, but Wichita straightens up, showing her face once she's convinced that the only thing lingering on it is the sheen of sweat from running for the last thirty minutes.
"Great night," she replies, a little too overconfident, before she backtracks with a frown. "It's probably closer to day at this point, but I couldn't sleep, so. What's your excuse?" she asks, peering at the other girl.
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"Hey," she said as she approached, then paused when she realized something was off. Wichita was shaking and Kate frowned, hurrying closer. "Hey," she said again, but her tone had changed, confused and a little concerned.
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"Hey," she greets, trying to stay casual, but there's a trembling in her voice that she can't attempt to hide.
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Not everyone liked to talk, Kate knew that. She was one of those people who preferred not to talk most of the time, but that didn't meant she wasn't going to ask. She had to ask.
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"Shit. Shit, I'm sorry," she breathes, rubbing the heel of her other hand beneath her eyes again.
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She's been out for hours with a grey sweater wrapped tight around her frame. She feels better at night, so she selfishly tries to prolong those hours as best as she can. Still, she's not sure how long that will last before the sickness begins to infiltrate every aspect of her life. It's good for Sarah to focus on other people right now, so she focuses on Wichita and lets her stilted concern come through. "What's wrong? Can I help?"
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"I wasn't under the impression that anyone else stayed out this late, but when you don't have a clock to count on, it's probably easy to lose track of time, isn't it?" She'd lost track of time, how long it's been since she's seen her sister, and the thought of that has her turning, clearing her throat.
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"Mostly because I couldn't sleep. I'm not used to sleeping, not for long periods of time."
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When I find her, I on't say anything at first. I just sink down and sit beside her.
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"I forgot," she manages, after drawing in a shaky breath. "I started forgetting about her. God, who does that?"
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"You can't...hang on to anything, Wichita," I say, quietly. "You'll drive yourself mad. And, you know...I think we...I think we better than anyone, we know how to...put things away so it doesn't kill us." I swallow. "Don't punish yourself for figuring out how to survive, okay?"
Because I can't. I can't do this without her.
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"I just feel like such a shitty person for not thinking about her," she admits, lifting her head and swiping a finger beneath her eyes. "She was the only family I had, you know, before you came along, and I just - I wish she could be here with us." She looks down at her hands, sniffing softly. "Sometimes I think I put up this face for so long, this attitude where I don't need anybody else, that it's bound to backfire eventually."
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Another yawn as she continued her somewhat aimless wander, wondering if maybe she ought to turn around and head home. Not now. She used to stay up much later than this anyways. Catching sight of someone walking along, she lifted her hand in a wave despite the poor light.
"Hullo there," she said squinting to make out who it was but not having much luck.
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She jerks upward, immediately wiping under her eyes and sniffing audibly to try and hide all remnants of crying, nodding politely even as she tries to keep her face hidden. "Hey," she replies.
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"Are you..." she started to ask, putting two and two together and deciding suddenly to not say anything at all. It would make the whole a little weird. Well, stranger than it already was. "Um. Nice night, right?"
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"Great night," she replies, a little too overconfident, before she backtracks with a frown. "It's probably closer to day at this point, but I couldn't sleep, so. What's your excuse?" she asks, peering at the other girl.
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