Jaime Elizabeth Davies (jaime_davies) wrote in the_displaced, @ 2016-06-25 23:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | jaime davies, simon devereux, ~time: april 2020 |
Confessions
Characters: Jaime, Simon
When: Monday, 6 AM
Location: the clinic
Despite her adventure in the pre-dawn hours, Jaime hadn't been able to sleep much. She'd cleaned her trailer, washed the sheets, Febreze'd the couch, aired it all out but nothing really was helping. The smells were gone, but the memories were still there. Some people might want to cling to them, but she had always preferred to chase them away. Even now, though it wasn't working. Eventually she gave up on sleeping and bundled up again for the cold. It was light-ish out, and after roaming aimlessly around for a little while, she made her way to the clinic. She hadn't really decided for sure, consciously, to tell Simon anything but she thought, in the end, she was obligated to at least pass on what she'd seen. How he chose to take it was on him. If her dad was missing, or if Simon had seen Harlow dead and Daniel alive, she'd have wanted to know. Letting herself into the main building, Jaime made her way to the clinic. She didn't know where Simon's trailer was, so she guessed if she didn't find him there she'd send a text to meet him. Or decide it wasn't meant to be and give it up. But he was there, sitting behind a desk with a magazine in front of him. She didn't think he was really reading it though. She studied him for a minute and wondered if she'd made the right decision. What would it do him to know? To foster whatever stupid hope he was hanging onto? She wasn't coming back any more than Daniel was. Still, he looked up after a few seconds, and he nodded before he spoke. "Something I can help you with?" He looked tired. Scruffy. Like he hadn't slept in ... well, in a week. She could certainly relate though. She hadn't been sleeping well even before she'd found out for sure. Her lips parted, and she shrugged. "No," she said finally. "I just ..." She hesitated, moving deeper into the office before settling on the other side of the desk, sinking slowly into a chair. "I ... don't know if you heard anything. The way news travels around here ..." She continued. But maybe not. Maybe that particular story wouldn't have wandered down that far, even by now. "I ... the other night. I had a dream. Guess it was a dream, but it might've been more than that," she continued. "It was more vivid. Like memories. Even now I could ..." She trailed off and looked away. She could recall it. The sounds. The darkness. The flapping things. The barrier. "Anyway it ... I don't even know if you'd want to know but I'd want to know. If ... if it was you ... in my position. If things were different. I ..." She hesitated, her eyes flicking over his face. "I saw your sister," she said finally. "In the ... whatever it was. When I saw ..." She hesitated again. When she saw Daniel die, but she was barely holding things together as it was without actually saying the words. "What I saw. She was there." Simon didn't really understand exactly what she was trying to say. He hadn't heard anything about it, but he wasn't talking to a lot of people lately. "I don't ... understand. What was ... the dream about?" Jaime rubbed her hands against her thighs before she exhaled. "I don't know, exactly. It was dark, like a cave or a tunnel, and there was a barrier I couldn't get through. And Daniel was there, bleeding ..." But even that wasn't right, and she shook her head. "Dripping. Into something. Like when people string up deer to drain them, but ... not exactly. And it stopped dripping, and she was there, and she just said she was sorry," Jaime concluded. "I don't ... I don't know if she's ... alive now, if there's any way to ... get to her but we ... I thought you'd want to know." It made a little more sense, but not enough. "So she's ... alive," Simon said. "I don't know. She was, then, but I don't ... I can't say she is now." He nodded slightly, his eyes dropping to the magazine on his desk. "I ... thank you for ... I appreciate it," he said quietly. Jaime nodded, wondering if he really was. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "That it's not ... something better. I just ... I'd want to know. If it was ... if you saw something like that." "I understand. Thank you," he added. Nodding again, Jaime pushed up to her feet. "It's ... do you ... can I get you anything, or anything?" "I'm fine," Simon said quietly. He wasn't, and he didn't yet know what to think of the news she'd brought. That Aria was alive? Or had been as of two nights ago? That she might still come back? Or that she was going to be the next one to be drained of life wherever the Beast was holding people? Was he going to get a vision now with Helena in Aria's role? Was it a new trend now? He watched with some detachment as Jaime made her way out, and he thought maybe he should say or do something, to let her know he didn't mind that she'd shared. But before he could really think up anything, she was gone. What, he wondered, was he supposed to do with that information? It didn't change anything. Aria was still gone. Might be dead. But for a little while, maybe, she'd been alive. Or maybe it meant nothing at all. Maybe her role in that vision was a red herring. Maybe she'd died first and it was just her spirit, her essence. There was no way to know, and while Simon understood it was pointless to think about, he was going to think about it anyway. It was better than some of the other things to consider. |