Who called the Cavalry (__sarenaty__) wrote in age_of_miracles, @ 2008-03-23 22:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | sarena |
Who: Sarena Alexander
When: Late Evening March 23rd
Where: From the Danger Room to Ren's room
What: Just some thoughts on the current happenings.
She'd broken her fingers again. The combination of the tension and then her own anger had only lasted so long hidden under pain killers and sleep medication. Sarena had spent the better part of a week blitzed out of her mind in one way or another. Why? Because the house was heavy with the tension of what was going on. First the preparations, then when people went and didn't come back, and as if that wasn't enough, she was pissed at herself.
Why the hell was she sitting back doing nothing in this time when every fucking hand was absolutely fucking necessary? She had gone into the Danger Room to try and work some of it off, hopefully without breaking anything major or hurting anybody. It was days like this when she missed Carol, moving targets were harder to hit and thus took more energy and she could take a good strong hit without flinching.
Carol was dead. Again. And Sarena could put even money on who was in the middle of that whole shit. Yet another thing she was keeping her trap shut on. There was one person who had the right to know, but with the bitterness coming off him about the situation, all she really wanted was to make him feel like it didn't matter. The truth was that it didn't. Not to her. He was real and that was what mattered. Clone or real, he breathed, he felt the same, that was enough for her.
So how had she managed to break her hand again? She had gone for a wall shot and her control slipped. Flesh met brick and broke, but instead of stopping, she kept right on. What did it matter if she broke something; she wasn't going out to fight anything. Sarena was going to sit back and do nothing. Sit back and be nothing. It was easy enough, just stay invisible. People didn't pay her any mind. That was good enough. Except it wasn't. Not anymore. In her mind, she was getting too old to stand behind other people and expect them to take care of it. That hadn't been her way of dealing with things prior to coming to the Institute, so when the hell had she become complacent? Somewhere between losing Mai and the present, she had given up and was just going through the motions to make it seem like she still had some fight in her.
Did she still have any real fight left in her? The Dead Man hadn't managed to kill her, so there had to be something in there somewhere. Losing Carol twice had ripped something out. Ran dying. Finding out her Father was missing. Mike's stroke. Knowing that she was partially responsible for the insanity suffered by a friend and for someone else making a deal that included a portion of their soul. Ran's resurrection. It was all a lot to carry, especially since most of it she couldn't even talk about. At all. There was no way she was going to bring this mess up at all. Some people had pieces and those people could keep them. This whole thing would stay a dirty little secret.
Her skin was turning colors as she headed back to her room. As much as she'd like to believe that it wasn't broken, she had seen enough pictures of how the body reacted to breaks, so much fun being the girlfriend to someone who was studying his way through medical school, to know that it was broken. Not to mention, it hurt a lot. A significant distraction to how she felt about the recent circumstances. It would be all right until later. Elvyran was busy at the moment, she spared a good thought for Kurt, who had gone out and managed to come back alive, if only barely. Sarena didn't take German, but he was a good man who didn't deserve to get added to the list of those who had been there. The list of those who had been there in Sarena's life was too long already, in her opinion.
She didn't really see the furnishings as she moved through the hall, cradling her arm to keep from slapping it up against something. The pain wasn't bad enough for tears, but it was bad. Prices paid as far as she was concerned. Settling in the window of her bedroom, she left it open enough to keep the smoke out of the room and lit up. It was a neat trick to do it with one hand, her off one, but she managed it. Then she just sat there, looking out and wondering what the hell she was going to do. Probably nothing. There wasn't anything she could do really, except sit back, wait, and try to keep from dying from the guilt.