Losing Ground

[its_worthdoing]

[She only has to wake up to know. All the off Willow feels is confirmed by a cursory look around the room. She doesn't linger.

The lingering hurts more.

From three. To two.

Then one.

Despite all the knowing, she makes the brief walk to the room-that-ever-was.

The words are soft and contained]

Jilly's gone. Jilly's gone home.

[And then, before she can think better of it? Or quadruple doubt herself? She filters someone in particular]


She's -- she's gone Billy. I woke up and she was just gone.

Comments

[Dictated]

[its_worthdoing]

[Still quietly]

She will, yes.

[She answers blindly, not knowing who this was to Jilly]

[Dictated]

[knightprodigy]

[He contemplates leaving this person to grieve, but considering how much time he's spent personally mourning the loss of ignorance being bliss since his return from Paris, he can quite safely say that sometimes talking about it helps.

Softly.]

How did you know her?

[Dictated]

[its_worthdoing]

[It takes her a moment]

We lived together, actually. For a while now.

[Dictated]

[knightprodigy]

[She probably knew Jilly quite well, better than Dick ever had, but this wasn't about whose loss was greater, it was about Jilly.]

She was a great girl. A good friend.

[Dictated]

[its_worthdoing]

The best friend, actually.

[Had she ever told her that?]