chilichoc: (stripey!mel)
[personal profile] chilichoc
*Mel sits on the window seat with her arms wrapped around her knees, looking out at fake-Winchester. She moved all of Mail's things into the closet, because seeing them made her too unhappy. She's not sure if she's gone numb out of self-preservation or if she's simply too tired to feel anything.

Not here. If none of the spell worked, he's in his world. Mel hasn't seen his Mihael in a while; she's most likely there too. If the spell worked partway, he's in her world, with Kira still out there. Twelve days. Last time he was taken away, every day here was a month for him. God only knows what he's been going through, while Mel searched and waited, and tried to hide the cracks, and put off for pride's sake what she's increasingly certain she has to do.

He could still come back, she tells herself. But. Ryuuzaki's gone and returned. And B said the link was strained, days ago. If Mail's suffering, lost or hurt or worse; if their bond is close to breaking... What choice does she have, anymore?

She sits up straight and puts her feet on the floor.*

Sissy? I need to talk to you.

Date: 2009-01-12 06:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Click click click click. Her signature stilettos are noisier than usual as she strolls through the hallways-- how she manages to make the clicking noise is anybody's guess, since the floor is carpeted, not tiled.

Her first job in months-- she looks rather bored, as usual, but her voice is sickly sweet. She gives Mel a grin to match.

Yes, Mellie?

Date: 2009-01-12 06:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
*Be specific, she thinks. Specific, and as polite as you can stand. But she's a rope that's fraying, and she doesn't know how long she can keep from snapping.*

Mail. My Mail. Where is he?

Date: 2009-01-12 06:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
She places one hand on her hip as the other raises so she can examine her fingernails.

Oh, I wouldn't know. I thought you would know, considering that nasty, no-good bond you two made.

She gasps, exaggerating a surprised look.

Oh no, Mellie, did you lose him?

Date: 2009-01-12 06:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
*She grits her teeth, but she keeps her voice steady.*

You must've sent him. You know he's gone. *Oh, this one's hard to say.* ...Please. Tell me when he's coming back.

Date: 2009-01-12 06:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Maybe I did. I can't quite remember if I sent Mail anywhere.

Her grin says otherwise.

Who said he's coming back? I certainly didn't. I have no reason to.

Date: 2009-01-12 06:52 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
To get him back, what do I have to do?

*She bites her lip to keep from adding anything that would just make The Assistant laugh.*

Date: 2009-01-12 06:55 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
A better question would be, what are you willing to offer?

Date: 2009-01-12 07:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
*Mel's silent for a long moment. She's so tired she could cry. Her mind is presenting her with worse and worse pictures of what might be happening to Mail. It might already be too late. She knows it's a mistake, but her mouth opens and the words come out, cold and hard.*

Name it.

Date: 2009-01-12 07:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I assume you know what I'm going to ask you for, right~?

She sounds positively gleeful.

Date: 2009-01-12 07:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
*Mel does know, as if she felt it pulled out of her own mind, and she could curse herself for even thinking it, for letting it sit so close to the surface.*

No. Look. You sent him home before to suffer fuck knows what, tried to kill us, actually fucking killed us, made me forget him... You owe us.

Date: 2009-01-12 07:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oh, Mellie, language! So inappropriate.

You do realize how much of a selective memory you have, right? You should be thanking me, you know.

Date: 2009-01-12 07:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
*That hits home, enough that Mel almost winces.*

But. I can't give you his memories. They're his. I have no right.

Date: 2009-01-12 07:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
That's a malicious smirk, just for Mel.

Your memories aren't enough, by themselves. Like I said, what you're willing to do is the deal-maker, or the deal-breaker.

Date: 2009-01-12 07:28 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
*She sees them in her mind's eye, the happy futures first. The little house in Munich, Mail with his hand on her stomach, Lyra. Then the horrible ones, the ones she thought had become impossible. Mail in the hospital, or bruised and cut and defeated-looking. Mel running, with nothing left to lose; or driving, waiting for the first stab of pain, ready for it.

It's no choice at all, now that it comes to it. If surrendering the happy ones is the only way to prevent the awful ones, that's what she has to do.*

You'll bring him back whole and healthy, and not make him sick again?

Date: 2009-01-12 07:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Eh, sure. Even if I didn't, you'd find a way to make him healthy.

She sounds disgruntled.

Date: 2009-01-12 07:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
You're not going to let me say goodbye. Are you?

*Very softly, sure she already knows the answer, but she has to ask. She wonders, fleetingly, distantly, how she thought she couldn't cry.*

Date: 2009-01-12 07:35 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Not unless you're willing to give me more.

She merely sounds bored, now. Waterworks just annoy her, frankly.

Date: 2009-01-12 07:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
*She says it anyway, under her breath in German.*

Beloved, I'm sorry. I'll miss you, for more than forever.

*Then she stands up. She feels like she ought to. She lifts her chin, and her voice is quiet and dry. The tears are beside the point now.*

All right, then. Take them.

Date: 2009-01-12 07:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
The Assistant stares at Mel for a long moment, then adjusts her glasses. She raises a hand, and snaps her fingers-- it echoes, and then it's silent.

Done. Anything else?

Date: 2009-01-12 07:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
*Mel blinks. What just happened, and why is she in this weird, too-big shirt?*

...What do you mean, anything else?

Date: 2009-01-12 07:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oooh, there's that grin again.

Never mind. Pretend I was never here! Nice speaking with you, Mellie.

Another finger snap, and she's gone-- no poof, nothing, just gone.

Date: 2009-01-12 08:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
*Mel stares at the empty space, utterly puzzled. Then exhaustion hits her so hard that she almost crawls into bed dressed. But: leather, and the shirt she doesn't remember putting on. She throws all her clothes just anywhere and curls up under the covers. It feels weird, for a flicker of a second, as if this tiny bed is somehow too big, but by the time she falls asleep a heartbeat later, that has passed.*


chilichoc: (Default)

June 2010

13 141516171819

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 25th, 2017 03:03 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios