Stephanie Brown (
alwaysroomforhope) wrote2006-06-30 02:33 pm
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Suite 138: Steph, Gheri and Gifr return.
Suite 138: Steph hasn't been back here in a while. She's half surprised when her key still turns, but the door slams behind her with as pleasantly familiar a thud as ever.
Everything's just slightly off familiar; she hasn't been here since before what she's just been calling The Thing. And even before that, she'd been staying at Zuko's, looking after the turtleducks.
There aren't any animals in 138. The white couch is clean and the carpet practically glows, and there are no dog-smells or turtleduck-damp. It's almost sort of lonely.
She goes to her room, shifts a heap of clothing aside, and flops face-down on her bed.
Stupid fire prince.
She hadn't planned to sleep, but that's what she does.
If you sleep, you wake up. And often you wake up with a clearer head, and realise you've been a bit of a bitch, and maybe you could've been a wee bit more understanding. Just a wee bit.
Zuko's not there when she goes back, though. Just the puppies, well-fed and watered, whining and scratching and complaining of loneliness.
She looks around his empty suite.
Well ... this sucks.
The puppies are scooped up, water and blankets grabbed, and she locks the suite carefully behind her as they gambol and yip their way into the corridor. Stupid fire prince, leaving them alone!
(...stupid Steph, for making him.)
It's like herding flies - they're so energetic! But she gets them to the 138 corridor without mishap, and attempts to juggle blankets and bowls and various bits and pieces in one arm so she can open the door with the other.
She hopes Ed likes puppies.
Everything's just slightly off familiar; she hasn't been here since before what she's just been calling The Thing. And even before that, she'd been staying at Zuko's, looking after the turtleducks.
There aren't any animals in 138. The white couch is clean and the carpet practically glows, and there are no dog-smells or turtleduck-damp. It's almost sort of lonely.
She goes to her room, shifts a heap of clothing aside, and flops face-down on her bed.
Stupid fire prince.
She hadn't planned to sleep, but that's what she does.
If you sleep, you wake up. And often you wake up with a clearer head, and realise you've been a bit of a bitch, and maybe you could've been a wee bit more understanding. Just a wee bit.
Zuko's not there when she goes back, though. Just the puppies, well-fed and watered, whining and scratching and complaining of loneliness.
She looks around his empty suite.
Well ... this sucks.
The puppies are scooped up, water and blankets grabbed, and she locks the suite carefully behind her as they gambol and yip their way into the corridor. Stupid fire prince, leaving them alone!
(...stupid Steph, for making him.)
It's like herding flies - they're so energetic! But she gets them to the 138 corridor without mishap, and attempts to juggle blankets and bowls and various bits and pieces in one arm so she can open the door with the other.
She hopes Ed likes puppies.
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And yeah, okay, he hasn't been here as much as he'd like, either - but that doesn't matter. There's a quota to fill, yaknow? And he's been trying to fill his.
"Oh," he says, staring at her with his hands on his hips. "You still exist?"
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He doesn't look like he really accepts that. Being busy was a part of life. But he doesn't say anything else.
...which may be almost a worse to do, in his case.
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"... I just didn't want to leave him," she says apologetically, looking guilty. "We nearly died. I didn't - he didn't have to be alone."
Then she realises this may have been the wrong thing to say. Considering it means she'd left Ed alone instead. Oops?
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-- or, well, okay. He's busy staring at the kitchen and not her way at all. That kind of helps this whole 'oblivious' thing out, huh?
"It's not like I haven't died," he says. "I get that. I just like... to know things."
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The bundle is being fiddled with. She feels awful now.
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Ed glances her way, now. He'll listen if she needs him too. He's not a bastard.
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She vaguely remembers Ed coming to see her, in the infirmary, but she isn't sure if she dreamed it or not. But he must have known, right? ... surely someone told him.
"It was just ... easier to ... stay. I didn't - didn't really think."
Does she ever think?
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"Sorry."