advanced | PSL for Renart

Okay.

[That sounds good. They can split up and cover more ground.]

I'll meet back up with you here this evening.

[She hesitates, then adds:]

Thank you. For helping.

[He isn't exactly the best person to ask when it comes to something involving Monty, but she's very desperate.]

[It's not for Monty he's doing this, and he's not actually expecting to find him anywhere. If his house is gone, if his mailbox has disappeared, then he's not in the Meadous any more.]

Any time.

[He lets his hand rest briefly on her shoulder, giving it a fortifying squeeze, before he sets off for the beach. He could just stay on the beach all day, he knows Monty isn't at the islands, but he said he'd go and look and so he does.

It's pretty late evening when he makes it back, soaking wet and shaking out hair that's matted with salt water.]

[He's wonderful, she owes him after this.

She heads out to the mountains, not bothering to stop by her place to get some winter clothing before trying to hunt down Monty's scent. There's nothing of course, but she still has to look anyway. She even finds Winter and her kids and asks whether they've seen him around. They haven't, of course.

She's still out anyways, and she gets back to Bucky's place shortly after he does, still chilly and the reality of things finally settling in. Her arms are wound tightly around herself when she approaches him, partly from shock and partly from the cold.]

He's gone, isn't he? He's really gone.

[He's still dressed in wet clothes, but he abandons the towel that he'd been using to stop the worst of the dripping from his hair and walks over to wrap her in the tightest hug that he can one-armed.]

Yeah.

[No point lying about it, comforting platitudes aren't going to make him come back. What she needs is to let go for a few minutes, let herself shake and cry and fall apart, he can hold her while she does.]

I've got you, Renart.

[That he's soaking wet doesn't bother her - rather, it isn't something she notices, as she'd normally chide him for being irresponsible. She's a little too distracted by the reality of the situation as it finally sets in: Monty is gone, somewhere, probably home, and the chances of her seeing him again are so small they might as well be zero.

She leans against Bucky, still trembling, her voice soft and shaky.]

He's....

[And she bursts into tears, unable to keep the feelings of devastation from rising up and taking over.]

[He privately thinks they're all better off for Monty being gone, even her. She might have loved him, but people fell in love with bad people all the time. Judgement in love is never something anyone is smart about.

Not that he's going to voice as much, he's not cruel.

He just winds his arm tighter around her and lets her cry.]

I know, it's okay. Just breathe.

[She feels foolish for the outburst and tries to listen to Bucky, sucking in short breaths in between sobs. It's silly to be crying practically in public when she knew things would never last. She knew there was a time limit.

This hurts, and if someone she doesn't like sees her breaking down so easily it's going to hurt even more.]

I - I'm okay.

[She isn't, but she's trying her damnedest to calm down.]

[He gently tries to manouver her further into the house so that he can shut the door and keep things private between them, but he doesn't want her to think that he's pushing her away when she needs an embrace and so he ends up doing a sort of ungainly shuffle.]

No, you're not.

[It's soft and firm.]

And that's okay, being not okay is what you should be right now. It's what proves you cared about him, missing him like this.

[She readily moves into his house, grateful for the privacy.]

I -

[She needs to take a few more breaths before she can start talking again, shove everything down so that she can pretend she's okay.]

I knew this would happen eventually.

Does it change how you felt? Would you do it differently?

[They're mostly rhetorical questions, though he'll listen if she wants to actually answer.]

Everything ends.

[Those questions are too hard for her to answer, she just hiccoughs and sniffles miserably.]

I don't.

[That's the problem with having relationships, they're ephemeral and she isn't.]

I don't end.

One day you will.

[He understands what it means to be tired of life, of seeing people die and disappear while you continue, and he's nowhere near as old as she is. Most people wouldn't think a reassurance of their demise is a good comforting tactic, but Bucky isn't most people.

It would comfort him.]

Not even stories last forever.

[Renart can only shake her head stubbornly, and while she might regret saying this later when she's processed everything, right now she doesn't care how vulnerable it makes her.]

Only if my Story is destroyed. Otherwise....

[Otherwise she's stuck here, watching everyone else live and die.]

[He hums sympathetically. He can't lie and say she won't ever lose anyone again, and he doesn't know how best to comfort her because he has a feeling that he'd likely destroy his own Story if that was how it worked for him. If that was the only way out and everyone left to fight for had gone.

So he stays silent for a moment or two to think about what best to say, simply holding her in the meantime.]

Then he won't be destroyed either, will he? Him or any of the others you've lost, they're all in the pages. Everything you ever did or said or thought together, right?

[He isn't wrong. Her Story contains innumerable accounts of other people, Monty included. She nods solemnly, rubbing at her eyes.]

All my memories of him are in there.

[On the other hand, that's all she has left of him. Memories. But that's how it always is.]

I can't bring him back, so I need to be okay with only having those memories.

In the end, that's all most of us have left of the people we've lost.

[She loses more than most, but the grief of being left with only memories is a universal thing.]

It's okay to not be okay with it for now, but one day you'll be able to read his stuff in your Story and smile even though he's not with you any more.

[She knows she isn't unique, but it still hurts. It's too raw right now, and she can't deal with this pain the way she usually does, by running away, so she's left feeling scared and adrift.]

I don't think I'll ever smile at my memories of him.

[The pain of losing him won't ever fully go away.

Renart draws in a deep breath, taking a step back from him. She looks terrible after that bout of crying but she doesn't want to think about that.]

I shouldn't have bothered you with any of this. I'm sorry, it's my problem, not yours.

No.

[He holds up a hand to cut her off right away, expression shifting into a stern frown. He needs to nip this in the bud right away, because he's had more than enough experience of her disappearing into her own self destructive pattern to not recognise it now.]

I want to be bothered by stuff like this. We're friends, Renart, that makes your problems mine, so stop that right now.

[He doesn't step in close again, he lets her keep her space, but he gestures further in.]

You shouldn't be alone right now, anyway. You can stay here a few days.

[It's not like he uses his own bed that often anyway.]

[Since she can't exactly disappear off across the world her next choice would be to go home and curl up in bed for weeks or months, and wallow in her misery away from other people. Maybe with booze and cigarettes. Far from healthy, she knows that, but she doesn't care about being healthy at the moment.

His offer has her shocked and uncomfortable, remembering last time she spiraled. She doesn't want him to see her like that again, but dealing with this in a remotely healthy way feels like too big of a mountain to climb.]

It's okay. I've got the tribbles, I can't leave them alone.

[He has a good idea of what she wants to do. He lived through her misery after Monty killed him, and he has a feeling this will be worse. She can't die from alcohol poisoning, but it doesn't mean it's good for her.]

I can fetch them.

[He's not going to let her have excuses to go and sink into the mire. The best thing he can do for her is to keep her head above water, even if she hates him for it.]

[Oh god why is he so intent on being the best friend ever?]

You really don't need those little monsters running around. It's okay.

[He gently touches her on the shoulder.]

You're not gonna win this one, Renart.

[Best just give in now.]

[She really should be a lot more stubborn about this... but she just sighs.]

Can you bring my Story, too? There's a piece of the floor that can be removed, under the tribbles' bed.

[She'd rather not leave it alone, either.]

Sure, I'll bring you some stuff. Why don't you go into the kitchen and see if there's anything you can make to eat?

[More for her than him. She's had a really bad shock, and then she's been running around all day to try and find a man that can't be found, she needs to eat something. Besides which, giving her something to do will be helpful, even if it's something mundane like cooking.

At least one of the benefits of having lived through true hopelessness himself, is that he knows what can work to help.]

Alright.

[She'll look, at least, since he's bringing it up.]

... Thank you.

[It feels strange relying on someone else like this, but it's better than being alone.]

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cw: suicidal tendencies

cw: suicidal tendencies

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