alani "monopoly dictator" ryan (swimthrough) wrote in beyond_evo, @ 2019-06-01 09:33:00 |
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The last few days had been a blur. Chaos, then unbearable sadness, confusion, and anger. That had been the most surprising of the emotions that hit Alani. Anger that they hadn't seen this coming, that they had lost so many, and there was absolutely nothing anyone could do about it other than wait. Waiting was the worst part. Waiting was a nightmare to an impatient person like Alani, who was desperate fix things before they spiraled out of control. Every hour following the attack made the situation worse—more destruction, more injuries, more death. Another loss, another missing, another reminder that they had all been rendered helpless, one way or another, and sometimes (most of the time) they could only wait.
That was before Alani realized Renai never made it back. The sharp, stinging pain of the wound to her arm felt distant and numb in comparison to the ache that had swallowed her mind at that information. And if the world seemed to know what kind of crushing blow that would strike, the voice that had been a strange but dubious constant since she had returned to the future went blissfully quiet. Even in different levels of grief, Alani's subconscious still tried to protect her from whatever critical blow that would strike to her emotions. So she swallowed it down, took a deep breath, and started working on autopilot. She had one good arm, she wasn't in critical condition—if she sat still too long, her leg would bounce in anxious, nervous, worried energy, and that would only add to the mounting stress of the situation because there were more of her friends there than not. The list was growing, and she couldn't do anything to make it shrink.
In times like these, Alani tried to gravitate toward the people who had a grounding, calming presence. The people who held optimism when things were wrong. Alani wasn't a pessimist by any means, but her stint in the future had made her cautious, had roughed up the smooth edges of her experiences, had made her question everything she did that would have adverse effects. This was one of those times, and she knew it was only the beginning. Her first instinct had been Kurt, but she hadn't seen much of him since the dust settled and the school was short a few dozen people, both missing or dead.
She had snatched pockets of sleep when it was possible, cleared rubble and debris—awkwardly, with parts of her body that could phase without causing issues to the quick-but-efficient medical care she had received—and wandered as far as she could before structural support started to be questionable. She rounded a corner, finally catching a glimpse of Kurt perched in a dark, quiet place. She might have even missed him, if she hadn't been looking. She hadn't realized how long she had been looking for him until she found him.
Alani kept moving past, only to come back to the spot (and expecting Kurt to be gone) with coffee—one kitchen item spared in the attack. If he was still conscious and capable, there was a good chance he hadn't slept. She didn't blame him. It was hard to settle enough to feel like sleep wasn't a luxury, that someone wasn't hurting because for one selfish moment, you needed to close your eyes.
She approached him slowly, quietly, and nudged the insulated paper cup into his eyesight. "Don't ask me where I got it. It's better if you don't." Once Kurt took it, Alani made a somewhat graceful move to sit beside him, balancing her own measly cup of coffee with one hand without spilling it. Perhaps her new secondary mutation. Not that it would have been any more helpful than she had been against gods during this battle. If she was making bets, she'd hedge them on Kurt feeling every single one of those absences. And it was disconcerting to see someone she was used to relying on, who had been a steady presence in all their lives—especially hers—slowly breaking apart.
Alani placed her coffee cup by her feet, in order to scoot closer to him. She gestured to his cup with her chin. "I can't promise that it's any good, but it's hot and caffeinated. And if you're planning on staying awake for the foreseeable future, I know for a fact that this will help. Marginally." Her words were meant to drag out a smile, but the intention and her own inflection lacked that humor she had relied on. It had died somewhere out there. It was on its last legs of life support, hoping for a chance to pull through like her friends in the makeshift medlab. Again she had been lucky, again someone else had saved her life.
Survivor's guilt was a real thing, a real fear scratching underneath the surface. How were they even going to make it through the memorial today? And even worse, was how awful it was to realize that she was somewhat more equipped to deal with it now, to go through the motions to make the harder things happen when others were barely processing. It made her stomach sour. This wasn't supposed to get easier.
"I'm just going to sit here a while, and we don't have to talk, but I'm trying to stay out of the way for now and you seem to have found the best place."[KURT!]