Evey heard it, first - the sounds of dismay rising from 7 floors below. A clamor echoed in her head at almost the same time - not from her, but from her best friend, struggling through wave after wave of panic that was not his own. No.... some of it was his. Leeloo. The name was a sharp need, a crushing helplessness reverberating. Evey went to the window and looked down, watched the world change, watched a mythological creature emerge to threaten the people of die Festung. And where had the buildings gone, and where were the ones who had inhabited them before?
"Buildings just disappeared," she said to Peter silently, swallowing down her own immediate fear as her thoughts flew in the direction of New Troy. "There's a dragon. It may be happening there in New Troy. I'm going now, to find him. Leeloo, is she okay?" And then, because she couldn't stop from asking, "... Can you reach Aidan...?"
She felt sluiced in ice water, her mind clicking into survival mode. Close down emotion. Focus on the important things. Move. Move. Evey did. Her body began preparing for a journey, and she felt as if she were watching herself do it. Pull out a knapsack. Push three shirts inside. One extra pair of heavy trousers. That lockpick set. A knife in its makeshift sheath. A box of matches. A small pot with insulated handles. A roll of cloth bandages. A day's worth of food - one strange fruit, a hunk of bread, fresh water in an old thermos that still sealed shut.
Peter was trying to shield her from what he was feeling. Fragments of emotion were skipping through, more and more as time ticked, and the sheer overwhelming panic she felt in jolts and starts was getting to her despite herself. She kept her eyes straight ahead. She moved with an efficiency both smooth and cold. But when she tied a jacket around her waist and swung the knapsack over her shoulder, her hands were shaking. At last, his voice:
yes, it's a dragon, I heard it the first dozen times
Evey? Aidan is there, think he's okay. Can't get in touch, too--
The panic that came then was enough to knock her against the wall before Peter checked it -- at least for her. Then, his thoughts filtered back again, as Evey locked the door to her flat.
Her hands stung with the phantom bite of nails in her palms. She flexed her hands, felt the tugging of her hair -- his hair...
Leeloo -- okay. At Sanctuary.
Evey leaned against the outside door of her flat and stared at the ceiling, feeling ashamed for the relief that Aidan was still alive, while Peter slowly deconstructed. She turned around and unlocked the door again. "Where are you, Peter? I'm coming. I'll be right there - I'll be right there. Tell me where you are -- I can't see you through all that."
Tried.. Not at Sanctuary. Not sure...
There came then a gentle sense of tugging, guiding her in one direction, amidst a cacophony of panicking voices, too many to hear anything distinct. Evey focused keenly on it.
And she would have followed Peter anywhere, when he sounded just like that. She dumped out the shirts from her knapsack, ran to the kitchen, and threw as much food as could easily be carried into it instead. "I'm coming."
She ran down the stairs, and threw herself into the lobby, heading for the door. The momentum nearly crashed her into one of her former neighbors -- the newly-wed Fred.
"Sorry --" Evey rubbed her eyes, held out her hands. "Sorry... Fred." FRED. A thought twisted her attention straight back to the woman. "Help me."