Nothing Survives (Harry)
Takes place after this
Dinah couldn’t quite wrap her head around the finality of what Joey had shared. She operated on auto-pilot at first, notifying the people who needed to be notified so they didn’t continue the search for…
The search for nothing. For no one living. She tried not to think about that.
She was relieved when she got voicemails for Fred and Dean, and Harry’s answering machine. She left each a similar message. Her voice was even, measured, almost numb. In each message, she asked to be left alone.
She didn’t know what she needed, really. But she knew what she didn’t need or want. She didn’t need someone to tell her it was all going to be okay, because it wasn’t. And she didn’t want or deserve someone to tell her that she wasn’t at fault, that she’d done all she could.
Dinah couldn’t decide if it worse to think that she’d done all she could and still fallen short, or to think that maybe she’d missed something. Maybe she could have done more, or done things differently.
She steered her bike around the City, circling around the streets on the outskirts as her mind went in a similar pattern, going around and around with what she’d done and hadn’t done, trying to find the ways she could have been better, could have done something differently to prevent this.
( It all came back to... )
Dinah couldn’t quite wrap her head around the finality of what Joey had shared. She operated on auto-pilot at first, notifying the people who needed to be notified so they didn’t continue the search for…
The search for nothing. For no one living. She tried not to think about that.
She was relieved when she got voicemails for Fred and Dean, and Harry’s answering machine. She left each a similar message. Her voice was even, measured, almost numb. In each message, she asked to be left alone.
She didn’t know what she needed, really. But she knew what she didn’t need or want. She didn’t need someone to tell her it was all going to be okay, because it wasn’t. And she didn’t want or deserve someone to tell her that she wasn’t at fault, that she’d done all she could.
Dinah couldn’t decide if it worse to think that she’d done all she could and still fallen short, or to think that maybe she’d missed something. Maybe she could have done more, or done things differently.
She steered her bike around the City, circling around the streets on the outskirts as her mind went in a similar pattern, going around and around with what she’d done and hadn’t done, trying to find the ways she could have been better, could have done something differently to prevent this.
( It all came back to... )