downside

[arenaria]

Voice lets her go.

Shell doesn't know how long it's been. She doesn't know where she is. She doesn't know how to get home, or if she has one.

She stands on Voice's doorstep. She blinks slowly at the brightness.

She walks in a random direction.

Downsiders aren't big on charity. It's not like it's going to kill her if she doesn't get help. It's not like she's unfamiliar with the effects of dehydration and hunger; Voice didn't always remember to take good care of the pet in the basement. Shell walks, and when she's tired she lies down on the ground and sleeps, and when she wakes up she walks, and every few days she curls up on the ground, waits to torch from thirst, and then gets up and goes on.

She doesn't count the number of times this happens. It doesn't matter.

She walks. She has nightmares. She walks.

On an unremarkable day on an unremarkable street after unremarkable stretches of years, she feels herself cross a telltale threshold of dizziness and headache: she cannot make significant forward progress towards Not Where She Is Currently Located until she torches or (less likely) someone gives her a lot of water. It's possible she'll be able to sleep through this torch. She sits. She leans on a wall. She should probably pick up the next sharp object she finds. Maybe a piece of broken glass will present itself. Then she can skip these parts.

She sits, and she closes her eyes, and she waits. If the buildings around her would ever have seemed familiar, they don't now.

Comments

[sicaria]

Then Sherlock will cuddle her, and watch over her, and wait.

[arenaria]

Quite apart from the murmuring, it's plain that Shell has nightmares. She doesn't lash out in her sleep, but she shivers like she's dying of cold, and between words there is the occasional high mournful whine.

She doesn't wake up during the nightmares. This has not been an effective strategy to make her experiences less nightmarish for many years.

[sicaria]

"I love you," Sherlock murmurs, kissing Shell's forehead.

[arenaria]

Shell wakes up.

"Oh," she sighs. "Oh, you're still here, I'm so glad."

[sicaria]

"Yes," she says. "I am still here."

[arenaria]

"That's good. Did you sleep too?"

[sicaria]

"A little."

[arenaria]

"That's good." Shell seems very comforted by the fact that Sherlock can sleep with her in the room, still.

[sicaria]

She smiles very slightly.

[arenaria]

Snuggles.

Shell has nothing at all to do. Bell can take care of the empire. Shell is accustomed to going for a very long time without eating or drinking. She can think of no reason to move at all for the next ever.

[sicaria]

Well.

If they spend long enough like this, Sherlock is going to want to get up and cook.

[arenaria]

Shell will only know this if Sherlock tells her. Shell cannot read Sherlock's mind right now. In fact, despite having asked for coins, the only one she's used is the one that torched her. She is simply no longer accustomed to being able to do anything worth doing at all besides progress through various stages between torch and next torch, let alone with magic.

[sicaria]

"I'm hungry," she says. "I am going to make muffins. Do you want muffins?"

[arenaria]

"Yes," says Shell.

She doesn't appear to make the connection that in order to make muffins from scratch, Sherlock will have to be unburdened by Shell.

[sicaria]

"Shall I carry you to the kitchen?" she suggests.

[arenaria]

"Yes."

[sicaria]

So she does.

[arenaria]

Shell still has not conjured up enough inferential power to expect to be put down once they get there.

[sicaria]

How about put down on the counter and immediately kissed?

[arenaria]

Oh, kisses, she's missed those, muffins are instantly abandoned as a possible use of her mouth in favor of lots and lots of enthusiastic whimpery kisses kisses kisses.

[sicaria]

Hmm. Yes. Clearly they have found a higher priority.

[arenaria]

It is the highest priority. Shell has no idea how she managed to neglect this as an instant, first, essential step in Having Sherlock Again, but she is making up for lost time. Decades of it. She's sitting on the counter, so she can wrap her legs around Sherlock's middle, too.

[sicaria]

After mind-reading, this is just about the best way Sherlock can think of to say 'I love you'.

[arenaria]

Shell is saying it back. (And I'm somewhat obsessed with you really and I may be literally crazy about you and don't leave me, not even an inch, don't leave me).

[sicaria]

Sherlock observes these messages, to some extent at least.



She hexes herself telekinesis, and commences making muffins.