Who: Charlie, Evan, possibly Leah and Brandon? What: Waiting for news about Nat. Where: The infirmary. When: Backdated to January 17th. Rating: Medium, for Charlie's mouth.
A coma might feel better than this Attempting to discover where to begin...
Her head ached. Her body ached. Her heart ached. Everything seemed to melt into one big ball of hurt as she paced, back and forth, back and forth. One-two-three. One-two-three. Left foot, right foot, cane. That fucking cane. Maybe if she'd been more careful, hadn't gotten the damn injury in the first place...
She wouldn't have failed. Again. Nat was her responsibility. She'd made a promise to herself, to her best friend that she'd take care of the little girl, just like she'd failed to do with Robbie. Her second chance– this time she'd do better, she'd said. And then that thing had smashed through the wall and everything had gone to hell. It replayed over and over and over in her head, every mistake, every move she could've made, every missed opportunity to keep her little girl safe.
The woman had lost a lot of weight since she'd last been at Sing Sing, hollowing her cheeks and emphasizing the dark circles under her eyes. The weight of the world was heavy on her shoulders and it had aged her...what felt like centuries, and the cane just emphasized her slight stature. For the first time, Charlie West actually looked small.
And truth be told, she felt it, too. She was helpless as the medics worked, reduced to pacing in a hallway. How the mighty had fallen. It was hard to believe that this hollowed-out shell of a woman with barely a spark in her eye had once been a force of nature. Once upon a time, she'd felt unstoppable.