Can You See Her


finn_icon.gif lucille3_icon.gif peyton_icon.gif

Scene Title Can You See Her
Synopsis Lucille tries to go to a friend to help find Nathalie, the news is worse than bleak.
Date January 15, 2020

Peyton Whitley's Home

The knock on the door comes hurried, rapid. The person on the other side of the door is clearly… in a rush or something. Has to be. When looking through the peephole Lucille Ryans can be seen, biting her lower lip.

Hands tucked into her leather jacket pocket, brown hair pulled into a small ponytail. She nervously undoes it to allow her hair to fall just above her shoulders. Light blue eyes close and she tips her head back, "Please be home, please."

Knock Knock.

Footfalls can be heard approaching the door but there’s a pause, as no doubt Peyton’s checking the camera display; she’s always cautious these days. Kidnappings and death threats and an overwhelming sense of karma coming for her have a tendency to make her a bit paranoid.

The door knob can be heard turning, and Peyton gestures for Lucille to enter. “Lucille. Come in. Are you okay?” Alarm bells are already ringing and her phone is already sliding out to call Brad if necessary.

“Brad and Jonah are at the movies. It’s not Delia or your dad, is it?” she asks quickly, closing the door behind Lucille and ushering her in.

"Dad's still off with Adam Monroe but no no- it's Nathalie." Luce sweeps inside with arms wrapped around herself. It's very rare that she's seen like this, maybe even never for Peyton. "She's been missing for almost two weeks, no nothing. I thought maybe she was just on one of her adventures but her phone was left at the Bastion." Scratching at her temples and coming to sit on the couch.

"I didn't know where else to go, to look really." There lies why she's here, "I feel horrible just coming over… again to ask you but I figured this was different, if Nat is in trouble…" Lucille doesn't finish that thought because she knows her best friend is capable of dealing with anything she was faced with.

"Will you help me find her?"

“Your dad gets around,” says Peyton a little wryly; the last time she heard mention of the man, he was heading off to Providence with Nicole.

“I don’t mean that-” you know. Sexually. That clarification isn’t spoken but sort of waved at to indicate what Peyton means, and she shakes her head. “Sorry. That wasn’t what I meant.” She shakes her head again. She might laugh, except for that Lucille looks fraught as it is.

“Of course I can look,” Peyton adds more softly, steering Lucille to the sofa and helping her out of her coat. “She’s the one you came with last time, yes?” she asks, as she perches on an armchair that sits catty corner to the sofa. The coffee table is a veritable tableau of dinosaurs in battle with one another, courtesy of Jonah.

"It's fine. He does," Both ways. Lucille's reply quick and she rakes a hand through her hair. Thinking of her dad made her wanna puke because she had no idea what he was up to either. She wasn't use to being this out of control not since the war days.

"Yea, dark hair brown eyes. Mature for her age," She's not gonna cry, that's for certain she tells herself. No time for that, keep it moving. Get Nathalie's location, thank Peyton. Grab her best friend, send the nicest bottle of wine to Peyton. That's how she figures this will go.

Allowing her coat to be taken she sits and crosses her ankles, knee bouncing and fingers playing with the ends of her black shirt. She wanted a cigarette, that could wait. Lucille begins to take deep breaths, calming herself and then nodding her head when she feels herself reach that place of calm in her center.

Peyton’s brows draw together and she watches Lucille with empathy. She’s been there, worried for a friend and unable to help. Too many times to count. The first time, it was Wendy, at the hands of Danko.

That was before she lost Wendy to Samson.

Her ability didn’t save Wendy the second time. She hopes it can save Nathalie, if the other Wolfhound agent is in some dangerous position. Something in Peyton’s gut tells her that she probably is.

It takes every fiber of her being not to promise Lucille it’ll be all right. Peyton knows it might not be.

She reaches for Lucille’s hand, though, to give it a squeeze. “All right.” She lowers her head, to help hide the blackness that swallows her irises when Lucille’s already so upset. Her face remains neutral; there’s nothing to indicate what she sees… because she doesn’t.

After a long moment, perhaps a minute, she opens them again. “I didn’t get anything,” she says quietly. “She might be asleep or not conscious for some reason.” Peyton’s words are carefully level. There’s another possibility she doesn’t name.

Lucille's brow furrows and she squeezes Peyton's hand, watching as she goes to that place only she can go. To find people. Reunite families.

That dream is dashed as Peyton comes back to the here and delivers the news, maybe she was passed out.. Lucille's heart begins to slow and she blinks, "Can you try again? …please." Lucille's knee begins to shake. The unnamed possibility runs rampant in her brain. "Maybe they did knock her out," Whoever has her, but it's been so long. Or she could just be sleeping, maybe she's on the other side of the world.

It's not enough to say she's alive and well. It doesn't assure her of anything. Knots begin to wind and unwind in her gut, a familiar feeling for when she had a heavy dose of anxiety and depression problems. Freakouts, Lucille deemed them.

It takes all that Lucille has learned about herself to not crumble at the first sign of darkness.

Peyton nods at the question as well as the possibilities she sees Lucille thinking up, and the one that she names. “Very possible,” she agrees. “It’s a different feeling than being blindfolded or in a dark room. Those… i can sense that there’s someone there, even if I can’t feel it. Just like you know you’re awake in the dark and not asleep.”

She explains how her power works, more to talk about something rather than to let Lucille sit in the silence. She reaches to take Lucille’s hand, squeezing it lightly, before she lets the pupils dilate again.

She tries longer this time, her head up so that Lucille can see she is in fact trying and not humoring her in any sort of way. Eventually she closes her eyes and when she opens them, the irises are back to their chocolate brown. “Still nothing, but if she’s asleep or unconscious it could be hours,” she says softly.

The hand on Lucille’s tightens once more. “Do you want to stay here? I can try again… orI can try and call you when I see something.” She uses the word ‘when,’ not ‘if.’

Lucille's jaw sets and she nods again to herself. That had to be it, she was asleep.

The tall woman listens to how Peyton's ability work, taking mental notes. Rationalizing it all. Yes that had to make sense. Had too. The offer to stay there is very tempting but she almost feels like she would be unnerving the other woman, Lucille could go for a drive. A long one.

"How about," Squeezing Peyton's hand. "I come back tomorrow, or send you a text. This is…" She stops and it looks like she's going to cry hard. "I'm so grateful Peyton, I really am. Thank you." Luce sounds exhausted in this very moment but sleep isn't for her yet. Not while her sister was out there somewhere.

Where are you Nathalie?

Wake up.

For now, she can't just sit here.


January 15, 2020

Ontario Beach Park

Rochester, New York

The woman stands at the end of a dock, water lapping at the pillars supporting it. A white painted lighthouse with a red roof next to her. Her bike is propped up not far behind her.

Peyton had been checking routinely since yesterday afternoon and still, nothing.

Lucille had to be sure though, before she said anything to anyone else.

Anything yet? :(

Light blue eyes mist over and they close as the text is sent off to the clairvoyant. The woman had wanted to be alone, coming here after driving all night. Not answering her phone, she can't find it in herself to speak to anyone.

Well almost anyone.

The sound of a motorcycle can be heard from a distance. It’s too cold but faster, and the weather just clear enough, just dry enough to not consider it a death wish to ride on the January roads of New York state.

Not yet. I’m sorry. I’ll keep checking.

The lack of optimism in the short reply from Peyton is almost tangible.

Finn slows to a stop, leaning the motorcycle to put the kickstand down, one leg swinging over while he pulls the helmet off at the same time.

He doesn’t ask what’s wrong, but simply moves to offer open arms to the woman to step into, brows lifting as he studies her face. It’s clear he wants to say something. He doesn’t trust himself to say the right thing, though, for whatever’s wrong, and so says nothing.

Lucille does without hesitation, pressing her face into Finn's chest breathing in his scent and trying to feel comfort in her partner. Gray blue eyes close and her body shakes as she tries to hold it all together. "I think…" She stops and shakes her head, tears begin to fall down her cheeks.

Can she bring herself to say it?

The water laps at the dock but Lucille listens to Finn's heart, ignoring the fact that hers has been slowly breaking since Nathalie had disappeared and the truth begins to truly dawn on her. "I think Nathalie is gone." Her voice cracks at the end of that phrase and her legs buckle a bit. "Nobody can find her, not even a clairvoyant… she's nowhere. There's just.. Darkness."

Death, Lucille is familiar with. Old friends, her mother, the countless people lost in the war. This feels even worse, as bad as when she found out Mary would no longer sing to her, hold her hand. Be her mom. There's a flash of Nathalie in her mind, of the first time she locked eyes with those brown eyes. "She gave me back my life… she saved my father… I did nothing? I just… lost her?" Choking back a sob, she failed her best friend. "I… told her I would look out for her. I made a promise. I-"

I failed.

It echoes through Lucille's mind.

Finn is quiet, letting her work through the words, work through her feelings. He rests his chin on top of hers and listens to the starts and stops. She can’t see the way his own brow furrows, both in concentration as he tries to think of the right words to say back, and pain sprung from empathy.

“You,” he murmurs, taking a step back and moving his hands to her upper arms, to hold her firmly and look into her eyes, green on gray. “You were her friend.

His eyes are intent, studying her tearful face, as if he could will her to grasp the truth of her words. “That was what she wanted and needed from you. And you did look out for her…you’re looking for her now, you’re trying to help. Sometimes…”

He swallows, glancing northward. “Sometimes our best isn’t enough but not because it’s our fault. This world… we don’t survive it, you know? None of us do. That’s the fucking tragedy of it, but you make it beautiful when you can to get through the rough parts. And…”

Wrapping his arms back around her, he pulls her close in for another tight hug, “you do. You were a beautiful part of her life, I’m sure of it. And she was better for it. Like I’m better for having you in mine. And if she’s gone… I don’t know. I wish I could fix it for you. For both of you.”

Her eyes stare back and the through her watery vision she centers on Finn's face and hears his words, they are a comfort but they only make her crack more. Her sobs become more apparent, more frantic. Her breathing coming in waves of anxiety, when he pulls her back in she slowly sinks to the floor of the dock bringing him with her.

Eyes flash briefly to that hot gold and she clamps down on her ability, trying to keep her grip on Finn but she knows he won't let her go, not right now. While she spirals memories flash through her mind:

"Oh! God," Berlin says, "Sorry Luce." She doesn't ask if she's okay, because she knows it takes more than that to bruise a Hound. "I was looking for you," she says as she gets her own footing back. "You have time for a sleepover tonight?"

It's important not to have any big missions or meetings on the docket, a morning after one of their sleepovers. Between losing out on any actual sleep and the booze that is typically present, it can be a challenge.

Reflexively Lucille throws her hands out to grasp Berlin whose bumped into her. It's been a few months since her healing and the old habits of rearing away from someone has started to recede, she's getting back to normal.”Hey!” Shrugging off the apology it's no big.

A mischievous glint in her eyes as she nods and leans in, “I'm there.” They had to catch up of course and if there weren't any meetings or assignment in the morning then hell yes to booze and sleepovers. “Come to my room!” Calling out as she walks over to open the door before sliding in.

Berlin smiles at her friend's easy acceptance and enthusiastic invitation. She doesn't need to be asked twice. She follows Luce in, clearly counting on her friend to share pajamas, even, because she hasn't brought anything with her. Or maybe she just forgot about that part.

When she's inside the room, she closes the door and leans back against it. "There is a really cute guy in the Market down in the safe zone," she says, words tripping over each other, "and I think he was flirting with me but I'm pretty sure I only said dumb things. Luce, help me."

"I tried… I tried." Lucille repeats to Finn, over and over. Slow as her voice quakes along with all the rest of her. "How do I tell… her sister… Avi? How do I say she's gone? They just found her." It's utterly depressing of a notion, that the family was being ripped apart just as they were all getting closer.

"I scored some mezcal from a source.." actually she beat him in a drinking game of another bottle of said brand of mezcal. She might have cheated, making him go blind therefore confusing the drunk man's brain to be confused and then putting him to sleep. She'd never admit though, okay maybe she would.

Berlin ooos at the bottle and shuts the door behind Luce. She's too young to drink, after all. But try to stop her. "I got something from the Zone, too. I was saving them." She goes to her dresser, sliding open a drawer and pulling out a box. Of cupcakes. "They probably won't go great together, but let's do it anyway," she says with a laugh. And all the irresponsibility of any other college-aged kid.

"I can't do this Finn, I can't just… give up. I can't just… not be there. What if she was alone? What if nobody even touched her fiucking hand! Please," She's not begging him, she's begging the universe for another chance to help. Take me instead. "She gave everything she could. Always, lived with an impossible burden She never even got a fucking choice,"

He lets her pull him down with her, wrapping her in his arms and cradling her against him. His own expression is one of worry and fear — this is far beyond his scope, this level of despair. Happy-go-lucky and charming asshole are the two ways he goes about life, and anything outside of that is alien.

Berlin is not someone Finn knows, but from a few stories and, recently, the worries about her missing, the worries she might be gone. He doesn’t know about her family or what choices or burdens she had or did not have. But he nods in agreement. It’s not fair.

“I know,” he murmurs, even if he doesn’t. He kisses her temple, pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to give up, not entirely. Not until you know for sure. And if we get so much as a clue as to where she is, we’ll get there. Somehow.”

It’s not really something he can be sure of, but now is not the time for brutal truths when she’s struggling with the most brutal of all truths.

“You are with her, you know,” he adds, resting his forehead against hers. He keeps his words in the present tense. “You couldn’t not be. Anyone you ever met will carry you with them in some way. She knows you’re looking. She knows you’re fighting for her. And that will help.”

Lucille nods numbly but she speaks no more. It's enough to have Finn there in this moment, it's enough to feel this vulnerable and broken and a mess.

The waves crash as the tide begins to change and Lucille sits there rocking back and forth. Utterly lost.

Begging for hope.

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