By Bond


wf_quinn3_icon.gif wf_tasha3_icon.gif wf_ygraine3_icon.gif

Also Featuring:


Scene Title By Bond
Synopsis "Grief knits hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can, and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys." Two women gain a family member when a young girl loses hers.
Date April 6, 2011

In Dreams

The ticks of a clock seem to grow louder and louder with each second, as the space and time between what is expected and what is real become farther and farther apart. Attempts at diversion lay abandoned upon the small table: a chessboard, a sketchpad, an old battery operated CD player, a deck of cards.

Crumpled paper balls are the only fruit of the drawing attempt; the last page on the sketchbook is scribbled out with the black charcoal marks of frustration. The chess game is halfway through a game from the looks of the white pieces, though the black pieces are knocked over in disarray, most of them on their sides, and a couple of pieces can be found on the ground.

Ygraine is about to speak to the young girl left in her charge when the silence has grown too long and too thick, when the brunette girl breaks the silence.

"It has to be good news, right?" she says suddenly, hands loosening around where they've clasped her knees tightly to her chest, longish legs unfolding as she leans forward to peer at the woman. "If there wasn't anyone alive, Tasha and Quinn would be back by now to tell us. It has to be okay — maybe not great but okay. They must have needed to bring my Mom or brother to the doctor or something, if it's taking this long. Don't you think, Ygraine? It has to be something like that." The girl's eyes are wide in her face as she all but implores Ygraine to agree with her.

"It might just be that Robyn's got lost", Ygraine says dryly, offering the girl a gentle smile - making it as calm as she can manage after all those aborted efforts at distraction. "But I'm sure we'll find out as soon as they have anything to tell us. I've never seen Tasha be unkind, and you know that Robyn has a good heart, don't you? So they're not going to keep us waiting any longer than we have to be. One or both of them'll be here to tell us what's going on soon, I'm sure of it. And if there was any definite news, we'd have it already."

Maybe the girl secretly has precognition, maybe she has excellent timing. Either way, it's jsut when Ygraine speaking that the sound of approaching footsteps can be heard, moments before a door creaks open. It seems to linger that way for a moment before Robyn Quinn finally steps into the room with half lidded eyes, a rather grim expression on her face that she hasn't meant to let slip through. In her arms, a small box of various items, both them and Quinn looking dirtier than the last time Ygraine of the girl saw them. She doesn't say much, only stopping once she's a step in to let the door catch her foot, holding it open for Tasha.

"Hey," she says a bit quietly, looking up them with a bit of a smile, somewhat feigned, forming on her face. "We're back."

At the sound of the door, the young girl is out of her seat, chair falling backward as she moves to greet whoever is coming in — that there are only two instead of three or better yet four make her still suddenly, arms wrapping around herself again defensively. Her brows draw together and she looks from one face to the next, waiting — it looks like she's not even breathing from how still she is.

Some things don't change; Quinn's grim face may hint at the story, but Tasha has always worn her heart on her sleeve, and red swollen eyes suggest that there is no good news. She presses her lips together and catches Ygraine's eyes, a very slight shake of her head to answer the question that hasn't been spoken.

Ygraine also rises to her feet, though she moves a good deal more slowly than her young charge - letting herself take in more of the situation before advancing to lightly rest a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Hi", she responds softly, expression worriedly sympathetic as she looks from Quinn to Tasha, and then down at the youngest present. "I think that maybe I should be fixing drinks", she suggests weakly, though she doesn't make any move to pull away as yet.

When the girl jumps up, Quinn can't help but wince. This kind of news is never easy to deliver. Maybe some people get used to it, but the feigned smile has become a sort of defence mechanism for the Irishwoman over the last few years because she hasn't. A sad look is angle up towards Ygraine, easy for the girl to see, that answers that linger expression as well as Tasha's red swollen eyes.

Kneeling down a bit so that she's closer to level with the young girl, the box is set aside and a moment of hesitation filss the air for a moment, before she leans forwards and hugs her. If Tasha's headshake wasn't a good enough answer, that surely is. It doesn't help that Quinn's fascade finally begins to break, the older woman snifflling. "I'm sorry," hshe says quietly. "We couldn't find anything."

For a long moment, the girl stands stock still, heart pounding in her chest, palpable against Quinn's when the woman hugs her. Her arms hang down at her side. She glances into the soot-smudged box, and finally a sob breaks out of her. One sneaker-clad foot kicks out, the cardboard box flying a few feet before tumbling onto its side. For a moment, it seems that the pre-teen might break out of Quinn's hold, push her away, kick at her too, but then her arms come up, fingers curling into the fabric of Quinn's dirty shirt as sobs begin to rack her small thin frame.

"Who will I live with? Where will I go?" is rasped out between those violent gasps for breath.

Tasha's eyes close for a moment, and she reaches to pat the girl's shoulder, and then Ygraine's as well before moving to pick up the box. "You're not alone, honey. We're not going to let you be alone, I promise," she murmurs, voice ragged as she tries not to cry again herself — for the girl's sake.

Finding nothing is still a great deal better than some other possibiltiies that have been met over the years. Still, Ygraine bites her lower lip, fighting back tears of her own as she watches her lover embrace the distraught girl, the Briton's hand tightening a little on the narrow shoulder. Her other hand moves to gently caress Quinn's hair for a moment, before settling upon the girl's head.

"You're not going to be alone", she affirms, having steadied her voice as best she can though it still emerges somewhat huskily. "No one has to be alone. Especially not you."

Again, Quinn winces when the box is kick, this time more visably. Relaxation, of a sort, only comes when the young girl grips her and starts to sob. Which really shouldn't be that relaxing, but it's a prefered uotcome over possibly getting her shin kicked as the young girl has the freak out she is completely entitled to. THe touch to her head, though, is also a comforting one, Quinn angling a brief, sad smile up towards Ygraine, before returning her gaze to the girl as she leans back a bit.

"They're right. You're not alone as long as you're with us." Her hands move to the girl's shoulders gripping tight. "We;ll make sure you're okay, okay? I…" Her eyes slide shut, and she takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry we couldn't do anything. But w-we'll make sure you're okay. I promise."

The objects are neatly replaced back into the box and then Tasha lifts the box to carry it gently to another room where it won't be a blatant reminder of what the girl has just lost.

The girl turns from Quinn to pull Ygraine into the hug as well, taking in the comfort and care offered in the embrace as needfully as she gasps for oxygen. The sobs are hard and tiring and soon she's spent, slumping to her knees before finally looking up.

"Can I stay with you?" she asks the two women, already red face flushing redder at the question, and then she rakes her lower lip through her teeth, eyes darting away.

A rather startled little yelp escapes Ygraine as she's grabbed, but the hug is gladly returned - one arm tightening strongly around each of the other participants in the three-way embrace, her head lowering as she gazes down at the younger girl and the kneeling woman. "Of course we'll have you", Ygraine murmurs without a hint of hesitation - before teasingly adding the best she can offer by way of humour at present. "You'll be expected to improve your chess, I warn you now. I beat Robyn every time, and a proper challenge would be welcome."

Quinn's answer isn't as quick. Not because she has any intention of saying no, but mostly because she's mulling, and listening for Ygraine's answer. When it comes, along with the group hug, she gives a slow, shallow nod. "Of course," she says quietly, squeezing the pair of them as tight as she can, awkward as it may be. She chokes out a bit of a laugh ove rher sniffles, the crying girl having induced tears in her as well. SHe almost playfully curses at Ygraine, but- there's a child present, and one who just lose her family. So she just lets out the laugh, nodding again.

From her spot a few feet away, Tasha watches with teary eyes, chuckling a little. "I'll go let the others know," the younger of the three adults says quietly.

"And if you get kicked out for not playing chess well enough, our door's always open," Tasha says playfully, moving forward to wrap first the child in a tight hug, kissing her forehead, then squeezing each of the other two women's shoulders on her way out.

The new family unit of three is left behind when the door shuts.

"Thanks," is sniffled from the child, who reaches up to wipe her tearstained cheeks. "I appreciate it." There is no laughter at the joke, but the smallest of smiles is offered in return for the offer to stay with them. They're not her mother but they are friends, Ferry, and now her family, by bond if not by law.

Endgame Safehouse

In the somewhat faint hope of allaying a few of her fears, Ygraine has been sleeping with a little egg-shaped clockwork-powered lamp sitting beside the head of her sleeping bag. It provides a soft, gentle glow, spilling a puddle of light over the corner of the desolately barren chamber in which she now sleeps.

The dream, however, leaves Ygraine staring wide-eyed at the lamp and the dark beyond, trying to find a way to breathe past the tightness in her chest. The tangible reality of it. From the worry, to the readiness to accept… to accept… whoever that girl was, she was known and cared for.

And she was. She became a new daughter. With Robyn.

Inside the bag, one hand frantically moves to check the other, rubbing at a band of knotworked silver encircling one finger. But there'd been a different one there, visible as her hand stroked Robyn's hair, comfortingly reassuring by its presence.

A low, bitter laugh escapes Ygraine's throat, disappearing into the dark silence beyond her little pool of illumination. Both hands come up, fingers clumsy but the heels sufficient to be pressed against her eyes as she groans.

"You're… you're my", emerges as a whisper barely loud enough for even Ygraine to hear it. Then another bark of bitter laughter. "We have a family, Robyn."

Not that the night cares any more about that than it does about the tears that follow.

Village Renaissance Building, Greenwich Village

When Quinn awakens, it is not with a start as she has been wont to do in the past. She stirs slowly, eyes slowly opening as she looks up into the darkness above her. The lack of being startled awake this time only makes her unsure of what happened for a brief moment, blinking as shes tares up at blackness tempered by streetlight filtering in through the apartment window.

But then the realisation hits her. She should be used tot his by now, and yet she continues to be caught off guard. Eyes widening she sits up, still for several moments before she urns, feet swining out and on to the floor below. Eyes half lidded, she tiredly stumbles her way out of her room and towards the kitchen, almost tripping over Inger where she sleeps beside the sofa.

Silent all the to the cabinet, a crystal tumbler is pulled down, moments later a bottle of whiskey retrieve. Both moved to the kitchen table, set down and poured, the glass full of dark alcohol, It sits,s till as the night. It never lifts up to Quinn's mouth, though. Instead, the woman just leans forward, a hand over her eyes.

Sometimes, making you own future feels so hard.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License