RP: They couldn't do this Characters: Jaime, Lily Time/Date: 7:45 AM, October 11 Location: Kitchen Warnings/Rating: angst, liek whoa Summary: Some bad discoveries are made Status: Closed
Jaime had woken to an empty bed, which was unusual. Sure, Mal could walk around just fine, but he usually managed to wake her up when he got out of bed. She wondered why he hadn't this morning. Sitting up, she groaned a little at the thick-headed feeling. The one that always came after she'd been drugged. "No," Jaime whispered quietly before she pressed her knuckles to her mouth.
"No, no no no," she whimpered as she kicked away the covers. She went on a frantic search of the room (her room, she realized, not their room), seeking anything that belonged to him. Anything at all. "Mal," she whispered as she pushed the bathroom door the rest of the way open.
Dug's things were gone, too. His dishes and his toys, the towels she'd kept on the floor for him to sleep on. She felt lightheaded and panicked because they couldn't, absolutely couldn't do this to her. She gazed at the remains of her mirror -- they'd cleaned up the glass and knocked what they could out of the frame, but some pieces had remained. It was simply further proof that it was her assigned room.
Jaime stepped out into the hallway in a daze, swiping at the tears that were blinding her. "Mal, Mal," she begged as she hurried down the hall toward his room. Their room. She half expected to find the door locked, but ... of course it was open. She pushed her way inside, looking around wildly, but the room was empty. She stepped in blindly, crawling across the bed and patting the pillows in a pointless, futile gesture. She searched the closet, the bathroom, the dresser drawers, under the bed, but there was no sign of him. No sign he'd even been here.
So maybe they'd moved him to fuck with her. Sure, definitely. They did that. They moved Barney once, right? So why not? Jaime tore out of the room and thundered blindly down the stairs on bare feet, intending to check the directory. As she started past the kitchen, she heard a hitched, sobbing breath, and she stopped.
Blinking away the tears obscuring her vision, she looked in to see who it was. "Lily?" Her voice was cracked and wavering and she just ... wanted Lily to say something positive. To tell her it was fine, that they were here.
Lily wiped away her own tears, and she looked at Jaime. "They aren't here," she whispered.
"No," Jaime protested. "No, Lily, no, they're here," she insisted. "They ... they can't ... Lily, they can't ..."
But they could. Jaime knew that. They could do whatever they wanted. "Why?" she whispered as she started into the kitchen. She wondered how long Lily had been out here crying. Then she wondered if her face was as much of a mess as Lily's was. She could see dried tear-tracks on the witch's face, and she shook her head again.
"I don't know," Lily whispered softly. She rose and moved around the table. "They took some others, too. River, and ... Kaylee, and Dug. Mal, and Balthazar. James and Sirius and Kyle." There'd been one other, but it wasn't anyone she'd met personally.
"Why?" Jaime repeated even as she fell into Lily's arms. "Why? Why would they do that? Why?"
"I don't know," Lily repeated as she smoothed down Jaime's hair, holding the smaller girl close as Jaime sobbed against her shoulder. She gazed past Jaime, her emerald eyes fixed on the directory as if somehow that would make them come back.
While Lily was perfectly aware there were things she should be doing, she couldn't make herself care just then. They'd taken her future husband and her lover, and Lily was not feeling horribly in the mood to cook anything just then. Instead, she simply held Jaime and tried not to think about the hollow feeling in her middle.