Scene Title Rehab
Synopsis …but I said 'no, no, no'
Date November 9, 2011

Pollepel Island

Lynette comes to the island behind the rest of the Ark teams. Her detour with Veronica and Brian gave her the chance to rinse out her hair and wash blood off her arms. There was nothing to be done about her clothes. She walks the path up to the castle alone in the dark, relying on memory to get her where she needs to go. And she relies on the dark to hide her troubled expression from anyone who might be awake.

Aside from a stray tear, she's kept her feelings about the mission buried deep. She's kept the memories buried deep. An endeavor that has made the past few hours feel unending. Even so, when she makes it to her room and closes the door behind her, there is no grand catharsis. She leans against the door, lets out a sigh, and slides down to the floor. Her head tips back, like she might be able to depend on gravity to keep the tears back. In the end, it takes a series of blinks and deep breaths before she can keep it under control.

Her fingers slide into her pocket and pull out a single vial of bright blue liquid.

Even in the worst days of her addiction, she never brought Refrain to the island. Dangerous and irresponsible. Even a junkie knew that. She should have tossed it under the wheels of the getaway car. She should have poured it down the sink at the motel or tossed it into the river. Anything but leaving it in her pocket.

It isn't in your pocket now, comes as a stray thought, a dark joke to herself.

She doesn't laugh.

She puts it back in her pocket.

People were counting on her, she'd been told. People trusted her. Her council position hangs around her neck like a rock. Or a noose, she isn't sure.

Standing up, Lynette walks to her bed and pulls out fresh clothes. Ones not covered in blood. Ones not covered in burn marks. In pieces of Knox and doctors and any number of Juliens. After swapping, she moves the vial from the old pocket to the new. And considers the wisdom of burning a pile of clothing in a place where they're trying to hide and have limited resources. In the end, she leaves them in a pile on the floor. A problem for tomorrow.

Her hands fluff her pillow, doing their best to make it comfortable before she falls into it. She's exhausted. Usually, she doesn't use her power much at all and never to the extent she did at the Ark. Never that way. When she looks at her hands, she can see the moment when Gillian's power turned her flesh to lightning and she feels emphemeral. Intangible. Like she could fade away any moment, disappear into the ground and leave everything behind.

She also feels the vial digging into her hip.

Giving up on sleep, she gets back up and leaves the room again. She suspects a lot of people here have given up on sleep. Or maybe will sleep for days. Which one is better, she's not sure. Her feet bring her to the battlements, a good place to walk an endless loop and look busy. Her hand slides into her — back pocket. And she walks to shake nervous energy and nightmare horrors lurking in the dark. And old urges that never went away. Only opportunity went away.

If Ben was here, she could go to him, hand him the vial and he would take care of it for her. Do what she can't make herself do.

If he was here.

If she knew how to talk to him anymore.

Feet stop. Hands withdraw. She reaches for the stone to steady herself as she looks out into the black. Because it's occured to her.

You have no one.

The thought makes her lip tremble and tears well up in her eyes. Distance is her own doing, and perhaps her undoing, too. She tries to contort her face enough to hold back the rush. She feels her eyes starting to sting. Dropping to her knees, she buries her face in her hands and gives in.

And she cries like she hasn't in years. Like she hasn't let herself in years. Like she's alone here in the dark.

In the end, it isn't the mission that breaks her. It isn't the death, the gore, the torture. It isn't the ambush or traitors. The children. Heller. It's isolation. Isolation deeper than being exiled to an island.

And she cries. Alone.

When she finds her feet again, they take her back to her room. Energy finally spent, she falls into bed and lets her eyes close. When she feels something digging into her hip, she takes the vial out of her pocket and drops it into her shoe. A problem for tomorrow.

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