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

[banished_dame]

Gone? [this is upsetting news]

[its_worthdoing]

I checked everywhere. Including her old room.

[banished_dame]

I'm sorry to hear that. [And so it begins... this is the part that Rose always disliked.]

dictated

[toyhopes]

[Vivi's small voice is full of concern.] Hey lady, are you okay?

dictated

[its_worthdoing]

[The concern cuts through. Touches edges that are still raw]

It's Jilly.

[After a moment it occurs to Willow that answer might not translate]

Not especially, no.

[its_worthdoing]

So am I.

dictated

[toyhopes]

[She's quiet for a moment, thinking hard.] Do you want a hug? They help me when I'm sad.

[onlyanapple]

What? Jilly, Jilly?

dictated

[thedicearecast]

...You're sure?

[banished_dame]

Have we met b'fore? I'm Rose Tyler, I was a friend of Jilly's, but there's a bit where I was here, but not here... which possibly makes me sound bit crazy.

[its_worthdoing]

I don't think so? [Willow is jolted from her thoughts] I mean, not that I can remember.

I'm Willow.

dictated

[its_worthdoing]

There is a definite fondness for hugs. [And a wistfulness in her tone] But I don't know if they will help this time.

[its_worthdoing]

[Completely certain, now]

There is only one Jilly.

dictated

[its_worthdoing]

Almost all of her things are gone. And I checked her old room.

[onlyanapple]

Well, fuck. [He's not amused, castle, not at all]

[cricketycricket]

[one soft, quiet syllable is the sound of two hearts breaking]

... oh ...

[he knew. the rational, sensible part of him knew this day would come. he'd hoped it might come after his own, but still, he KNEW she'd go. but that doesn't make it any less of a shock. sweet, optimistic, beautifully HUMAN Jilly Coppercorn, one of his dearest Paradisan companions ... gone. without a trace, save the memories and the kindness she showed everyone else.

but he swallows down his own emotion, and does exactly what she would have done:] Do you need company?

[bro_codebreaker]

What? No. No, that's -- [the ground drops out and his heart leaps into his throat. Barney clutches the back of his couch to steady himself and leans over it, looking at the journal in disbelief. he didn't hear that right. he couldn't have heard that right. he checks the dictation ...

... he heard it right.

his internal filter breaks, and he mutters]

But I didn't tell her so this wouldn't happen --

[its_worthdoing]

[The language is abrasive. But not inappropriate]

Yes. [She finally adds] That.

[its_worthdoing]

[That actually jerks Willow of whatever place she is currently occupying. Said place still more welcoming than her now-empty room]

Didn't tell her what?

[bro_codebreaker]

That --

[he sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face]

It doesn't matter now. Never mind.

[its_worthdoing]

[Something in that gentle tone hurts more than it should. It is soft, without edges. But it cuts all the same.

Willow blinks fiercely]

I -- I don't think so. [Filling spaces with anything other than Jilly at the moment just feels wrong] At least not yet.

[its_worthdoing]

[He was there for her after Billy. There when he really was under no obligation to be]

Never mind what, Barney?

[bro_codebreaker]

[for a long moment, it seems like he's not going to answer her. but really, he's just rounding the couch and sinking onto it. the journal picks up a sigh, then more silence as he slowly pulls the journal off the coffee table, into his lap, and scribbles in a filter]

[Willow]

I --

[he can't even say it. the pen moves slowly on the page, as though every stroke is cutting it out of him. surgery. amputation]

I loved her.

[he reads the words, and they suddenly have an uncanny, heavy finality. it was okay when they were just in his head. he could swat them away and they didn't have as much meaning. but now they really do feel like a wound. because they're real. and she's gone. and she'll never know]

I did.

[hulloeverything]

No... She's -

[Eleven sighs. A deep one that comes from the bottom of his hearts. His hearts that ache even though he's greatly relieved that she's out of danger... well... out of Paradisa's flavor of danger, at least. He doesn't know what she's going home to but he greatly hopes that it's better than what she'd had to endure here.]

I'm sorry...

[wield]

I'm... So sorry, Will.