InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Narf!"

If a person could dissolve in tears Meaghan would be wide wet circle on her bedroom floor, melted to a puddle and sunk into the carpet where, most likely, she'd stay there soggily 'til doomsday. If that could stop the hurting she'd welcome it. But with her luck that would still stick 'round too.

It felt like she'd been crying for years, hours, days, all mixed up and spilled over. She was turning to a salt person and when she used up all her tears there'd be nothing to hold her all together anymore, unless tired and hurt could do it. That was all she was. That was all she had, a black hole of pain in her chest for a heart, sucking everything into it, light and sound and all, so she didn't even hear a knock on her door, or a repeat knock, or the sound of the door opening and the feel of the cooler corridor air sweeping into the room.

It wasn't like Meaghan to be shut up in her room for hours on end. Florrie had begun to worry when she didn't come down to eat or watch telly, and finally had made up a sandwich and a big glass of water to take up.

When she opened the door, Meaghan was a sobbing wreck on the floor, almost as if someone had died. Well, if that was the case, someone would have said, so Florrie counted it out that anything had happened to her family or Donnie. Normally she didn't interfere in Portree things, but whatever had Meaghan in such a state clearly required some help.

Florrie set the tray on the bed and came over to sit on the floor by Meaghan and put her arms around her.

There was just enough of a person left in the mess to clutch back blindly, to seek warmth and comfort, to sense strength. She clung to Florrie, shaking, the human contact slowly starting to bring Meaghan back to herself. She didn't really know who was holding her and on some level, it didn't really matter. She wasn't in a place to be picky with her trust.

"It's never enough," she mumbled after a few minutes.

"What's never enough?" Florrie asked, and reached for the water to offer it to Meaghan. With the amount Meaghan had been crying, she had to need a drink.

"Never enough what you've done," she said, accepting the glass and Florrie's presence with the same worn-through lack of surprise. "No matter what it is they just want more." Her face crumpled again over the glass, but she managed to drink anyway even though it left her breathless.

When Meaghan finished, Florrie refilled it with water. Meaghan looked like she might have cried herself dry. "Do you want to talk about it, or do you want to have another hug?"

Meaghan sob-laughed and hugged Florrie in response, tight as she could but not tight as usual. "Since when's talkin' help anything?" she whispered.

"It depends on what the problem is. Sometimes it does and sometimes," Florrie said, thinking of Ellie, "it doesn't at all. I brought you something to eat. Do you think you can stomach it yet?" She wasn't ready to let go of Meaghan, at least on not as long as Meaghan was hugging her, but she thought she ought to at least offer in case Meaghan was hungry.

She shook her head wordlessly. She didn't even have a stomach yet, there was nowhere to put it. "Why's anyone ask me for anything?"

Florrie gestured to her to drink some more water. "Why wouldn't they, if you had something they needed, or you could give them help?"

"I've done enough," Meaghan said, her voice cracking. "It should be enough." It should be over.

"I don't know what you're talking about but you need to have a little more water, Meaghan. Drink up." Florrie's voice was gentle but these was a firm core under it. "You'll make yourself ill."

Meaghan sighed and did as she was told, closing her eyes and tipping back the glass until it was empty again. Then she slumped, rubbing her eyes, which were still shut. Slowly she began to wipe the tears from her cheeks. When she finally opened her eyes, they were red and hopeless. "Thanks," she said quietly.

"You're welcome." Florrie found a handkerchief and began to dab away Meaghan's tears as well. "I don't want you to feel worse when you're already so miserable."

"Can't get much worse." She was silent for a moment. Florrie doing things like this always made her feel quiet for some reason, but less tired too. Just not less-tired enough to clear away the mountain on her. "She might bench me rest of the season," Meaghan said finally, struggling not to ruin all of Florrie's work. "And you're gonna say she's right."

Florrie held on to Meaghan loyally. "I can't say aye or nay about that without knowing what it is. But you don't have to tell me if you don't want to it. I don't make a habit of getting into Portree business and I'm still your friend even if you did something wrong."

It all made Meaghan want to cry again, but she pinched her eyes shut tight, resting her head against Florrie's. "They were gonna sit me out Caerphilly, I known for days," she mumbled. "And then they come and say there's this whole pink thing they wanna do, and they knew it before but I'm s'posed to think it ain't related. And it ain't - it ain't fair," Meaghan went on in a desperate whisper. "It ain't fair. Sat out to 'rest' and lyin' about it? So I said Galbraith needed rest more 'cause she ain't been sleepin' in weeks, to show what bullshit it was, her not even bein' well for it and what if it's a long match?" Her voice had risen, but it dropped again. "An' they got pissed at me but it's true and it should matter if anything matters."

There was a bit of a gasp at the revelation about Ainsley, which was private information. Florrie didn't want to know that about another team's player; it was awkward knowing as much as she did about Meaghan sometimes. But there was no point in reinforcing a lesson that someone--Maggie if Florrie knew a thing about her--had already pounded home. "Why would they bench you over pink?" Florrie was genuinely curious about that; it made no sense to her.

Meaghan let out a bitter little laugh. "Don't wanna mess up their PR right now do they, not all looking the same? Stands to reason anyone not up for it's gonna get sacrificed." And that was bloody stupid. She'd been with them so long, longer than anyone just about, and never wanted to be anywhere else, and she was solid. More than that, she was goddamned brilliant. But shit like that never mattered when politics came in. You just had to look right was all, didn't matter how much you'd done or your loyalty. You just had to say the right shit, true or not. Anyone could wear a bloody colour, but having it where it actually counted apparently counted for nothing.

It still made no sense to Florrie. "Don't you want to wear it, then?" It hadn't occurred to her that anyone could object to wearing pink. Certainly not someone who'd been involved in Muggleborn smuggling. Before Meaghan could answer that, Florrie continued, even more confused, "I mean, I've been expecting you to get rotated out so your reserve could get some play time, honestly, so it's not a surprise, just--not like this."

"I know it happens but I don't hafta like it do I?" Meaghan said. Ellie had acted like just one chat with her and she'd go off all grins and giggles with Galbraith arm in arm, like there was nothing shitty about being replaced, like it was easy seeing your place taken. Like it didn't hurt like hell being stopped from doing what you were meant to do. "But I was livin' with it before they said that. I was trustin' her or tryin' like she keeps tellin' me to but she lied. They lied. It was just a bloody lie."

"Why do you think they lied?" There was clearly something here that she was missing, and Florrie could tell. "I mean of course you don't have to like it when you take a match or two off, but otherwise what happens if you get injured? And don't say you won't, because I've seen too many people felled by bludgers this season. Merc already says your back line is weak because they never get played."

"The fuck, our back line's fine," Meaghan said, instantly offended. "Just 'cause they don't each get played every other match like his and throw shit off all the time don't mean they ain't the best. 'Sides Galbraith, anyways," she added, because team loyalty didn't mean you couldn't be catty about a rival, especially one who'd pissed you off so recently. "Her I could see that counting for."

"Galbraith's got pro experience, and so does Savage," Florrie reminded Meaghan, "But neither your Chaser nor your Beater does before this year, and the Beater's never been played at all. I'm the last one to say someone who's spent time in the office side of things is necessarily a weak player, but he doesn't have the pitch time and you're going to need it. Compare it to Montrose, where everyone but Lennox has been rotated out regularly all season, and even he's taking turns out now, and it's a big difference. I'm not surprised Elsie's trying to get them some experience. I expect it'll be the new Beater and Chaser too for this match."

Galbraith's most recent pro experience was as a Cannons reserve, but Meaghan was far too mature to bring that up, and she shut her mouth on who else would be rotating in, too. She knew better than to give out that info. "Amir and Ickleurq'll be fine," she said instead. "Maybe they ain't got the pitch time but they've trained with the best." Just try denying that, why didn't she, with that being Scrimmy and Bucky and Lorna and Meaghan herself. "So there ain't nothing to be concerned about there and you can tell him I said so."

Florrie was having a hard time suppressing a grin at how well that had worked. She did reach for the sandwich and handed it to Meaghan, poking the other index finger at her in an unspoken order to eat it. "Maybe I will, but if you think flying against Lorna in practice is going to give them the same confidence as flying in a match, you're still wrong. And I say that as someone who's been a fan of hers a lot longer than you."

Meaghan grabbed the sandwich and bit into it with passion. "You dunno how we've been working 'em," she insisted with her mouth full. "Not just Lorna, everyone. And I ain't gonna tell you so don't try and weasel it neither. Bein' Pride's enough to give the confidence anyways. Purple's a royalty colour, wear it for a week and you're two inches taller than before."

"You keep telling yourself that," Florrie said, "and we'll be looking for a place to stow the Neep in our clubhouse." Before Meaghan could spout off again, Florrie handed her a full glass of water. "Drink it all. You've cried out a lot."

Meaghan grunted and took another bite of the sandwich. "Tryna drown me for the competition, are you. Won't work." And she drained the glass.