Helena Wells-Quinzel is H.G. Wells (indelibleink) wrote in makebelievelog, @ 2013-05-16 01:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | gwen stacy, h.g. wells |
Who: H.G. and Gwen
What: Christina's birthday was always a difficult day for Helena, but today was going to be exceptionally difficult.
When: Early morning on the 16th, shortly after dawn (slightly forward dated)
Where: Castle grounds
Warnings: Lots of feels, everything else TBA
When Helena wasn't working, she was focused on packing her things into the boxes Claudia had provided so she could move into the room next to Claudia and Elena's. She hadn't been sleeping much, rare more than a couple hours at a time. If it wasn't difficulty falling asleep due to the lack of Myka's presence, then it was nightmares or other dreams centering around Christina that woke her up. Her friends here certainly helped, but there was little any of them could do short of taking Helena's memory away from her so she didn't hurt anymore. But even as painful as it was, Helena knew she had to move through it and just see what awaited her once she got to the other side.
Or if she got to the other side.
The pain of Christina's loss was more than difficult enough for Helena to handle, but to add Myka's on top of it, it was killing the Victorian woman. Even though she hadn't said much, she was fairly certain Claudia could tell. It was pretty much a constant battle for Helena to not shut down on herself again. Each breath she took hurt and she knew she was living on the edge. As much as she knew it would be easy to just fall over the edge and fall back within herself, she couldn't let herself become that again. Emotions always were Helena's undoing. When she had strong emotions, it was difficult, more than difficult, to control them. They typically controlled her, and for her it was easier to embrace anger than it was to embrace the pain. Her pain ran so deeply that much of the time she felt it had no end.
Helena jerked awake some time before dawn. Sitting up abruptly, she glanced around the sitting room, the television still being on and showing some movie. Not caring to see what the movie was, she switched the television off. Getting up, she wandered over to the bedroom, the one she'd been sharing with Myka the previous few months. She paused in the doorway, some measure of hope telling her Myka would be in bed safe and sound. But as she pushed the door open, that spark of hope dissipated. Myka wasn't there, which meant she had to face this day without the one person who knew her better than anyone else. Brushing a hand through her hair as memories of Christina started filtering through her mind, Helena knew there was no hope of getting any more sleep. Needing to get out of the room for a while, she decided to go for a walk. At least once she changed her clothes.
Once she was in clothes that she hadn't slept in, Helena headed out to the castle grounds just as the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon. Picking a direction, Helena just began to walk, not necessarily paying attention to where she was going. Memories overtook her, her mind drifting back to the 1880s, back to the time before she'd been broken and twisted and made into a completely different person. It always hurt to remember those days, when she still believed anything was possible and she believed in humanity. Those days were filled with an optimism that she no longer had. On her best days now, Helena was neutral about the future. On her worst, she didn't see the point to life when all it brought was suffering.
"Mummy?" A voice from the past suddenly echoed within her mind. Helena stopped abruptly in her tracks and glanced around. She was about to say Christina's name when she remembered it was merely a memory. But it was enough to bring tears to Helena's eyes. Clenching her teeth, she glanced up at the sky, drawing in a slow breath, trying to not lose it while outdoors where anyone could come across her. Out of habit, her hand reached up, slipping under the collar of her blouse to clasp around her locket. But this time the engagement ring she'd given to Myka was there as well, which briefly confused her as she wasn't used to feeling the ring there. And quickly, her mind was drawn back to Myka.
It was not fair, but Helena had learned the hard way that the world never was as one thought it should be. Today of all days, she couldn't cope with the sense of loss. Christina, her beloved daughter who was the pride and joy of her life. Myka, the light of her life and a missing piece of herself. Taking another deep breath, Helena opened her hand that was closed around the locket and ring and she let them rest in her palm as she looked down at them, unshed tears threatening to spill over. She glanced at the engagement ring she still wore on her left hand. Despite Myka being gone, Helena could not bring herself to take it off. Doing so would only solidify more that Myka wasn't there and she'd once again lost the woman she loved.
In that moment as she felt her heart wrench in her chest, she tried desperately to push the emotions away. But even as she wished to close herself off from feeling, she couldn't. Not when her mind was filled with endless memories that wouldn't leave her alone, and certainly not when her heart was breaking further in her chest. She let go of the locket, letting it fall against her shirt. It and the diamond ring were in plain view hanging from the chain around her neck. There was a moment where anger flashed through Helena. She hated this place for taking Myka, especially now when she was in need of her. Not when today brought so much of her past back and made it even more potent. She set her jaw and cast a hateful glare at the sky, but as soon as she cast her gaze back down to the ground, the anger dissipated. As much as she wished to rant and rave at whatever power controlled this place, she couldn't bring herself to hang on to the anger. Instead, she attempted to retreat within herself a bit, just enough to keep her together as she resumed walking. There would be time for crying later. Right now, she needed to maintain some level of dignity.
Which was going to be difficult given the circles under her eyes and that she undoubtedly looked like hell due to the lack of sleep she'd been getting. The usually impeccably dressed H.G. Wells was slightly unkempt. Her hair was not brushed, only finger-combed. She wore no make-up. Even her clothing, although clean, seemed to be askew in a way it typically wasn't. Helena was unravelling, and she was trying to keep it from happening all at once.