Panic and relief were warring for dominance, as soon as one emotion started to fade the other would wash in with a new burst of messy tears. I'm out I'm out I'm out replaced with but I wasn't, I wasn't... but in the background a dark sea of other things were churning against the rocks. Maxwell's death, Richard's death and the gulf between her and Ismene, the bruises on Romeo and the fist sized dent in the kitchen wall, and other bruises and other dents and other gulfs and other fear and -
It had been a really long time since Antigone's last, good, cathartic cry, and she didn't stop till she was fucking exhausted. One hand was braced against the pavement as she bent forward, sobs fading, the other hand with her fingers spread over her face, till everything was replaced with the fact that the hand against the pavement was about three inches away from a used condom drowned in the rain.
"This is a disgusting place to fall apart," she said, with a bitter laugh through her tears, to Asterion.