Participants:
| Scene Title | Temporary Fix |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | They say you can never go home again… |
| Date | August 15, 2010 |
Lynette's Apartment
When Lynette was finally able to get back to her apartment… she was no longer sure she wanted to be there.
In those days after her rescue, she felt crowded, smothered sometimes, just from other people being around. It sometimes got worse when people talked to her. It definitely got worse when the medics looked her over. Perhaps lingering bad feelings about the medical profession should have been expected. It was so much harder to play Lynette now. Sweet girl, warm heart. She felt more jaded and cold than ever. Someday she would take a count of just what all they took from her during all this. She would be damned if they stole any more of her dignity, though.
So when she opened the door to her apartment, the dark, cold, empty place was not a comfort. Hell, she hadn't even finished unpacking before she was taken. The first thing she did was get in the shower. But when she found herself huddled against a corner of the tub with freezing cold water hitting her from the shower head… well. How long had she been in there? She wasn't sure. But clearly, she needed to keep herself busy. Staring at walls with a blank mind was something captives did. Not free women.
So she started to unpack. She got her bedroom set up. She put on a pair of comfortable pajamas. She put on some music. Sinatra was always nice.
It was in the living room that things started to go sour. It was a bottle of vodka. Stoli Elit. Her favorite. This bottle was practically full. Donnie had given it to her as a going away gift when she came to New York. Her hands tightened around the bottle.
And then she threw it against a wall.
It didn't shatter, which she'd be grateful about later, but the two vases that followed? The glasses she pulled out of the kitchen? The plates and picture frames and ceramic decorations? She found herself standing in a room littered with shards. She couldn't… really remember doing it. With shaky, panicked breaths, she moved back against a corner, sliding down to sit with her knees pulled to her chest.
Lynette felt many emotions she wasn't used to feeling. Fear. Anger. Hate. Sorrow. If she could be taken once… what's to stop her from being taken again? She lived alone. She slept alone. She hadn't been this afraid since she was a child. And she was pissed off about it. The indignity of it all. What they did to her. How she'd acted. How… fucking helpless she was. She could shoot lightning bolts with a thought, but she couldn't protect herself. Couldn't get herself free. And she hated them for pointing that out to her. And she was so lonely.
She missed Dema.
In some rational part of her mind, she knew this wasn't healthy. After all, the man experimented on her. He may not have been pulling the strings… but he went along with them. But the thought of him dying in there…
A finger came up to touch her cheek. Tears. It's funny how detached she felt from them. They could have been anyone's tears. It just so happens… they were hers.
I'm fucked up. The thought came easily. The sky is blue, fish swim and Lynette Rowan is fucked in the head.
Her gaze flicked up to the table nearby. Her jacket laid there. She'd found that having worked for Donnie Costa still opened doors for her. When she reached, her fingers were just able to grab the fabric of that jacket. And when she had it in hand, her fingers pulled a blue vial out of the pocket. She'd promised herself she wouldn't do this. This was not something she needed. She was stronger than this. You do this, they win.
Sort of an ironic name, Refrain. She stared at the blue for what seemed like hours. It was probably only moments, but she liked the idea that she still had some semblance of willpower. Hours.
The needle hit her skin in a prick of oddly welcoming pain.
She laid there among the debris, off in a corner. She would remember better times. Just tonight. Just this once. It was just… hard to come home again. She'd feel better and when she did, this… she wouldn't need this. This was just… transitional. Just for a little while…