𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒.
Somewhere far, far away from home. Not what it was. Not a normal afternoon with nothing to do.
And still we fight.
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"YOU WERE DEAD.”
Tara's voice is ragged from behind Ellie. It's fascinating how different each of them seem to be right now, gathered like flies in a flytrap and struggling with whatever fate that leaves them with. Buffy is trembling at her side, Abi’s breathing has gone shallow and Rory doesn't seem to be moving at all, frozen in either fear or memory.
Ellie-Marie wants to laugh.
Hysterically, maybe. Deranged, broken like a scratched record that's unable to play anymore. Maybe she'll laugh like the child she was before her life warped, maybe she'll laugh and maybe the tears threatening her eyes won't fall in perfect sonic cohesion.
Maybe the burning betrayal will fade and she'll get drunk off the saltiness that it leaves behind.
Her shoulders bow in like her body is reacting to an emotion she cannot convey fully. Her mind is one big gray area and everything hurts and she's not entirely sure she's here anymore, caged away the same way she's beginning to realize she's always been. Trained by manipulators and ringmasters begging her to leap through hoops of survival, coaxing her into wicked games only to take her loved ones away as a prize. She's not interested in any of this, not anymore.
But still Quinn talks.
“I really wasn't, though,” she grins. That voice once so friendly now grates Ellie's ears to a pulp, begging her to go into the same vengeful space she went last year. She’s not a killer. She's not a bad person. She's tame, she's gentle and she's kind.
