Molly Stearns (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
losttheright) wrote2015-11-13 02:04 am
losttheright) wrote2015-11-13 02:04 am
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In retrospect, maybe she should have seen this coming.
For a couple of weeks now, Molly has been helping to draft statements about this string of disappearances, people vanishing and returning days later with stories about some alternate, fucked up version of Darrow. The story is largely the same as it was when the same thing happened a few years ago: a roundabout way of saying that they have no fucking idea what's going on, and that people shouldn't panic about something that absolutely merits panicking. At least, that's how she sees it, but she remembers not long after people started turning up in this place, when the whole city was like that and she nearly died trying to get to one of the churches. She remembers, too, the shape Russell had been in when he got back the last time this happened. The fact that, once again, it's apparently temporary is a small comfort, but the idea of it happening at all is still terrifying, and so she mostly doesn't think about it. Outside of the context of work, it isn't worth it, nothing that's affected her yet, nothing that she has any reason to think will do so.
The latter is clearly where she's mistaken. Not giving it any more thought than she has to has helped insofar as making sure she doesn't freak out about it, but it means that when she steps out of City Hall in the evening to find the world changed in a way that's uncomfortably familiar, she doesn't know what to do with it. All she can do is stand there for a moment, trying to force herself to breathe, difficult as it is with the ash in the air and when she's so fucking terrified. She could have prepared herself for this, at least to an extent, but she didn't. None of the official statements issued by City Hall could really have driven home what it would be like to find herself here, with the knowledge that, when it finishes getting dark, she'll really be in trouble, at least if what happened before is any way to judge. She might be a little more capable now than she was three and a half years ago, but that's only saying so much. It's certainly not enough for her to want to take any chances.
Tempting as it is to stay there and shut down and start to cry, she knows she'll only be worse off if she does that. Instead, she tries to think through things she can use to try to keep herself grounded — that she's lived through this or something like it before, that she's lived through what she would describe as worse, that it is, by all accounts, something that should only last a few days. That, and that there's still a little bit of time left before the sun has set and she's screwed.
It's with the latter in mind that she finally heads away from City Hall, in the direction of the nearest church. From here, it's a bit of a walk, straight through the park to the other side of the city, and she probably won't be able to stay there for too long, but she might at least have a chance to pull herself together and possibly get some sleep tonight before dealing with this head-on. Right now, she barely feels like she can deal with it at all.
For a couple of weeks now, Molly has been helping to draft statements about this string of disappearances, people vanishing and returning days later with stories about some alternate, fucked up version of Darrow. The story is largely the same as it was when the same thing happened a few years ago: a roundabout way of saying that they have no fucking idea what's going on, and that people shouldn't panic about something that absolutely merits panicking. At least, that's how she sees it, but she remembers not long after people started turning up in this place, when the whole city was like that and she nearly died trying to get to one of the churches. She remembers, too, the shape Russell had been in when he got back the last time this happened. The fact that, once again, it's apparently temporary is a small comfort, but the idea of it happening at all is still terrifying, and so she mostly doesn't think about it. Outside of the context of work, it isn't worth it, nothing that's affected her yet, nothing that she has any reason to think will do so.
The latter is clearly where she's mistaken. Not giving it any more thought than she has to has helped insofar as making sure she doesn't freak out about it, but it means that when she steps out of City Hall in the evening to find the world changed in a way that's uncomfortably familiar, she doesn't know what to do with it. All she can do is stand there for a moment, trying to force herself to breathe, difficult as it is with the ash in the air and when she's so fucking terrified. She could have prepared herself for this, at least to an extent, but she didn't. None of the official statements issued by City Hall could really have driven home what it would be like to find herself here, with the knowledge that, when it finishes getting dark, she'll really be in trouble, at least if what happened before is any way to judge. She might be a little more capable now than she was three and a half years ago, but that's only saying so much. It's certainly not enough for her to want to take any chances.
Tempting as it is to stay there and shut down and start to cry, she knows she'll only be worse off if she does that. Instead, she tries to think through things she can use to try to keep herself grounded — that she's lived through this or something like it before, that she's lived through what she would describe as worse, that it is, by all accounts, something that should only last a few days. That, and that there's still a little bit of time left before the sun has set and she's screwed.
It's with the latter in mind that she finally heads away from City Hall, in the direction of the nearest church. From here, it's a bit of a walk, straight through the park to the other side of the city, and she probably won't be able to stay there for too long, but she might at least have a chance to pull herself together and possibly get some sleep tonight before dealing with this head-on. Right now, she barely feels like she can deal with it at all.
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Even just staying on her feet feels, suddenly, remarkably difficult, but she moves towards Lee, resting a hand against his arm. "Hey," she says quietly. "I'm... glad you're okay." That barely begins to cover it, but she isn't quite sure what else to say, especially after what happened earlier and the enormity of that, something she can barely wrap her head around. She loves him, of course she does, but she isn't sure that she'd realized just how much until she stepped in front of a loaded gun for him. That in itself is as terrifying as all the rest of it.