Alana Miller (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} teachmehow) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} immune_ic,@ 2012-01-29 18:35:00 |
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WHAT: Chit-chat
WHEN: Late in the night of January 29th
WHERE: Quarantine in Grand Central Station
RATING: TBD
STATUS: Incomplete; Continued Here
Fourteen days is such a small span of time over the course of a life, if the life is a long one. Fourteen days ago, Alana Miller and her nephew, Luke Avery, bolted into the unknowning night as a life ended. A life was given up to save both of theirs. It was what consumed her in the silent moments and those were in abundance.
Seven days have been spent in quarantine, with another seven days left. There was an understanding of security, not just for themselve but for the other people in this safehouse, but Alana wanted something a little more... Normal. They had to create a new normal, the pair of them, and find new purposes in the city. Someone had already suggested she teach again.
It was not unnoticed that Alana had been keeping to herself quiet a bit. Luke, thankfully, seemed to be chatting up some of their 'neighbors' but it was harder for her to muster up something to say. The loss of her husband, Luke's Uncle Michael, was incredibly fresh. So many, many losses touched the lives of all those here and for years, Alana sympathized. Having no solid evidence that her parents, brother or sister, brother-in-law or niece were gone, she hung onto the hope that someday, everything would be right again. But with the loss of Michael brought the true, whole-hearted empathy and great emotional pain.
When Luke was around, she tried her damnedest to bury that sort of thing. To be back in the city where he last saw his father and sister, and have no idea what happened to them was a feeling Alana experienced when she had gone back to Missouri and found empty nests. Luke needed support and Alana would give it to him.
Now, they sat off to themselves for the time being, at a small table and two chairs. Laid before them were pairs of upturned cards, a pile yet to be known, and a few held between their hands. "Go Fish," she said with a smirk. "No nines here." Cards were a way to pass the time. Cards were something that Alana could handle, when the nights were long and tended to allow too much thought.