come_sailaway | (open) unimaginable bird

"Trapped in the story," Erin murmurs. "Forced to be a role over being a person. I know the taste of it."

(Understatement of the fucking year, Peters.)

"Did you get the grim courtesy of knowing why?"

A role, and a title to go along with it. How she feared them, but at the same time...none of them escaped sorrow. The ghost queen who still clung to her dignity, the man returned from fire and ruin, the laughing sculptor-

She shakes her head.

"The hunting, the chasing, the killing, the running, it was all part of a so-called game, with endless rounds. Yet I don't know why it began in the first place. If I was ever told..." Another breath. Erin's pulled open floodgates, it feels like. "There are parts of my memory that feel empty. Whether that is a result of so much death or otherwise, I do not know."

Tears prick at her eyes, despite her best efforts, and she roughly tries to wipe them away.

"...I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you hold so much - not when you have your own sorrows. When what you've had to live through - and everyone here has to handle so much - I'm sorry, Erin. You didn't ask for all of this."

"Helena...yes, I did. Out loud, not all that long ago." Now comes the hug, drawing Helena in close, supporting her so she doesn't have to keep herself upright. "We're none of us sovereign, contained and alone. You're so dedicated to helping others, but you need help too. It's no burden."

Nerves still so raw from the trial, she can't fight it anymore. Helena's form shakes from silent sobs, flooded with different emotions - guilt at telling, the bitter unfairness of everything she's been through, the stress of yesterday, fear at being perceived, and not knowing what to actually do about any of it. She cries, and she feels like a small girl again, but at least there is a friend nearby to hold her, with strong arms and a steady presence.

So the answer to Erin is a decided no. She's not fine. She hasn't been fine since she stepped on this boat.

"It's okay," Erin murmurs softly. "I've got you, and I won't go spreading your business. It's okay, lass."

Whatever else this place might be, it's not that nightmare. Helena got out alive.

Out of the fire and into the frying pan, maybe, but alive.

"Thank you."

She's a mess, but she didn't have to ask for that, beg Erin to keep it quiet. These are her wounds to bear - her story to tell or not tell. The scars embedded in her arms from the rounds time and again that she hides under her clothes are hers to keep quiet about.

Eventually, the tears subside, and she breathes a little easier. The edge of her sweater isn't the ideal to wipe her face with, but that's all she has right now. She feels like a rough sponge was taken to her insides, and her head hurts, but it's passed. It's over, and she's still here.

Erin has not once, in her life, considered joining the Court of Sorrow, but she's never appreciated their stance on the healing power of grief as much as she does right now, in this moment. Gently, so gently, she rests her head atop Helena's and tries her best to just be warm and safe.

"I had to have a friend yell at me before I started showing your discretion," Erin murmurs. "I'm not unappreciative of you not wanting to lay the horrors of your world at my feet. But..." A soft sigh. "When I say you're under my aegis, that you're my friend, that I care, it's not just your body I'm trying to protect, Helena. We sail here between worlds together. We're all we've got; this odd little community."

She'll feel how Helena leans into her - exhausted by the tears, but trusting. Trying her best to believe that the horrors can't reach her, that talking about these things won't invoke them. She hadn't been able to confess more than a little before this, but even so, it had been enough to gain care, warmth, security. And now, she had wept, and the world hadn't fallen apart around her.

People want to keep her safe here, and it still catches her off guard. They say it directly to her, and it's the stiffness of new clothes, not worn enough to be comfortable yet. So much time spent fighting to live, and what is one to do with it when they have it?

There are so many things she could say, but Helena knows they're fitful things that only expose how much she doesn't know. Everything uncertain, because it's not as though the others didn't fight for her as much as she did them. It was simply an understanding, that if one must fall for the others, then so they did. If only one could get out, they took it, and left the others behind. If you were the one they really wanted -

She stays silent, and listens, focusing on calming down for now.

There's so much to say, to ask, to share, but...maybe not right now. Erin doesn't broach her offer to help Helena's dreams again either, though it's on her mind.

Another time. When you're not used to being cared about, it can be a lot.

"...Did you want to share a bed tonight, lass?" The offer's soft, and small. "SecUnit mentioned...well, you know what it mentioned from context. I can't promise it as a regular happening, but maybe we can both dodge some nightmares tonight."

(...We really could have phrased that be-)

Shut. Shut the fuck up. Head voice. Just. Please. Shut the fuck up.

It's a good thing Helena's tucked up near Erin, or the older woman might see how that mention causes her expression to shift a little, the little twinge of self-consciousness that breaks through even in this state, when someone brings up a fact that one hasn't quite settled with. Those nights had been peaceful, a small token in her heart, and she has certainly not forgotten the feeling of it. They were important, very much so.

But Erin can't, and can't seize upon the moment for levity, and she's grateful.

"I might accidentally touch you in your sleep, though."

Erin's own nightmares. Would they be made worse, by a proximity?

"You won't be the first. Ruby sleeps with her head on my lap sometimes, or I could just hold you. If you want," she stresses.

"...I'd really like that, then. Thank you."

It would leave her feeling less torn open by what she'd managed to say. Safe, safe. Right now, if anything happened to any of them, it would be self inflicted, given the way everyone has to heal.

Maybe her presence can do something for Erin, too, and keep some of the nightmares off her back.

"Alright. I'll...get changed, and I think we use your bed considering mine is my beloved safety hazard."

(open) unimaginable bird

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