Rae Alghren (prettydeadly) wrote in immune_ic, @ 2012-07-22 23:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2012 [07] july, leah, rae |
WHO: Rae and Leah
WHAT: Leah is Rae's wrangler escort out of the quarantine block. They hear "the gunshot."
WHERE: The quarantine block, Sing Sing.
WHEN: July 23rd, 2019, early morning; immediately after this.
RATING: Medium for language
If she'd been self-aware, if she'd been anywhere near her right mind, Rae would have been ashamed of herself. The man she loved was dying, hours from death, and she'd had to be dragged out of the room like a petulant child. Or... not really dragged, so much as led. She hadn't been able to hold it together until she left the room; the gravity of the actual goodbye had crushed her like a thousand pound weight, pounding her into the cement floor of the quarantine room and leaving nothing but a weak, blubbery mess for Leah to pull away. David walked the opposite way, and had Rae been in her right mind, she'd have wondered where he went. But she couldn't. All she could think about was the fact that the father of her child, the love of her life, the best half of her heart, would be dead in a few minutes. Would be gone, would never come back. It felt like all she'd been doing while she watched him deteriorate was crying. But she couldn't help it. Leah Stone, a woman who had spent nearly half of Rae's life hating her, guided her from the empty, echoing halls of quarantine. Behind them, she could hear quiet murmurs of conversation, half of them accented in French, and she was vaguely aware that Evan was saying his goodbyes. Maybe he was comforting Elliot from Rae's selfish, blubbery exit. Whatever the case was, Rae wasn't thinking about much of anything aside from the fact that she'd just seen the love of her life for the last time. “I-I'm...” she gasped between strangling tears. “I-I'm sorry, L-Leah... I... I can't...” The tiniest bit of her mind that was aware of her surroundings wondered if Leah was judging her. But the rest of it didn't care. She'd just lost her soulmate. Leah, of all people, should have understood how that felt. |