Preparing For The End



Scene Title Preparing for the End
Synopsis Melissa takes care of a few things prior to the raid on the Institute. Just in case. Responsibility sucks.
Date August 12, 2010

Little Green House

It's not often that someone has to stop and ask themselves, “What do I do with myself before I go to war tonight?” But that is exactly how Melissa is spending part of her afternoon. When she first got here, there would have been little for her to worry about, but now she's got responsibilities, and people she cares about. Some say that love makes you weak, but in Mel's case, it just makes her more determined. It may not be strength, but neither is it truly weakness.

She's gotten herself stocked for a few hours spent locked away in her room. A large bottle of water, her cigarettes, a yellow legal pad and pen, and her phone. Not the Rebel phone, but her phone. She's even locked Jerry out, though he lies at the floor just in front of her door, whining occasionally to be let in. But what she has to do needs no distractions, and a dog, especially one of Jerry's size and energy, is often a distraction. She needs none to ensure that things are taken care of, just in case she doesn't come out of the hospital alive tonight.

She sits down on her bed, glancing at the drawing that hangs above it. It may be of a dead dog, and Abby may hate it unseen, and Mel may even dislike the subject, but it's a present. She, oddly, values it, in some weird way. But she shakes her head, forcing it from her mind, and she picks up the paper and pen and begins to write.

The first thing she begins to write is a will. Time being short meant that there was none in which to go find a lawyer and get it written up. She has no idea if it'll be binding, but she has to try. For Kendall's sake, since the short document leaves almost everything she owns to him. Except for her corsets, which she's leaving to Abby. A posthumous attempt at a joke? Perhaps.

It's signed, the page torn off, and folded carefully to go into an envelope, marked appropriately and sealed. Then the next page is touched by the ink. This time it's a letter to Kendall. This one takes longer, not just because of the length, but because it's hard to figure what to say to someone who's become dependent on you, in a letter which they'll only see if you die. But in time she signs her name across the bottom of a page and tears the pages off. Again the letter is put in an envelope, labeled and sealed.

There's a letter then to Abby, which is somewhat easier than the one to Kendall. She knows about the raid, knows the risks. She's a big girl, and Mel doesn't have to be quite as careful with her. Again it's enveloped, labeled and sealed. The last letter takes the longest for her to write. It's not that she has to be as careful as with Kendall's, but it's harder to figure out just what to say. Eventually, it too ends up in an envelope, and all four envelopes are stacked neatly together and placed on the small table beside her bed, in plain view. Hopefully, if she doesn't return, they'll be found and delivered appropriately.

Perhaps she should tell someone to look there, just in case the worse happens.

Melissa stares at the envelopes, looking so innocent sitting there, for several minutes, before she picks up her phone. It's turned over in her hands as she debates making the call she's been thinking about making since the previous night. Part of her really doesn't want to do it. Another part is almost desperate for the conversation.

The phone and her cigarettes are taken outside, to the small balcony outside her room. Even now she can't break her own rule about no smoking in the house. She sits down on the edge, letting her legs dangle over the sides, and the cigarette is lit. It's nearly half gone before she picks up the phone again and sighs. A number is dialed from memory. It's not one she'd normally ever call. It's certainly not one important enough to make it onto her contact list.

After all, she hasn't even seen her parents in years, and isn't sure that they miss her at all.

She listens to the ringing with closed eyes, and when the other end is picked up, she nearly drops the phone. But it's neither of her parents on the other end. It's a voice she knows though, one that makes her smile a little.

“Maggie,” she says, with a touch of true fondness for the woman who had truly raised her. The nanny/housekeeper/cook. “It's Mel.” She pauses while the older woman took a minute to get excited and babble on, but then she had to interrupt. “I know it's been a long time, Mags, but…look, are either of my parents around? I need to talk to them.” She laughs and shakes her head, though she knew Maggie couldn't see it. “No, I'm not in trouble.” At least not that she's going to share, not with this sweet lady.

She was put on hold and laid back, head resting against the floor. When the other line was picked up again, she held her breath for a moment. “No…no, I'm here, mother.” She sighs and rubs at her temple. “No, I don't need money,” she says, bitterness creeping into her voice. “No, I'm not in any trouble. Look, I just wanted to call and talk to you, okay? It's been a few years and it just…seemed like the time.”

Even though she'd never felt loved by her parents, she needed to talk to them once more, just as she'd needed to write the letters. It must just be ingrained in a person to love their parents in some way, no matter how they're treated.

The response she gets has her sitting up and frowning, flicking the cigarette butt over the edge in a quick, angry movement. “Because you're my mother, that's why. I know you never gave a damn about me, but all things considered I thought it would be nice if I actually made sure you were still alive and not in a hole in the ground somewhere,” she says with a sneer.

“Clearly though I made a mistake. I won't do it again. If I call, it'll be to talk to Maggie.” She hung up in the middle of what her mother was saying, and had to fight to resist the urge to just throw her phone as far as she could, as hard as she could. Instead she sets it down with great care and rises to her feet, stalking along the short distance of the balcony.

That was a mistake. She knew it would be, but sometimes being proven right is more infuriating than anything else.

Sighing, Melissa picked up her things and headed back into the house. Responsibilities were taken care of, now it was time to prepare for tonight.

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