rogueinladysclothing | Unforseen Solace [Tagging Adia]

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Unforseen Solace [Tagging Adia]

Grief strikes people in many different ways. Some seek out solace in others, in being with those they love and care about who are still part of their lives. Others mourn in privacy, needing to work through their thoughts and feelings on losing someone they cared about alone before they can emerge from the shadows and be with other people. These are healthy reactions and allow someone to move on from their feelings of hurt.

Amelia has never been one to do anything properly. For days following the fall of one of her closest friends, she hides away in her room at the inn. She speaks to no one, eats very little, and manages to sleep even less. She cries silently, wanting no one to know that she's hurting or pay her any mind. It's a difficult time for the rogue, and she manages to push through it only by sheer force of her own will. She needs to live, if only so her friend's memory lives on with her.

When she finally manages to make it out of her room a week later, she hides herself away in the library. The small room she tucks away in is out of the way and hard to find without the aid of a librarian - which is exactly why she chose it. In front of her is a large stack of books on elemental magic, one of which she turns the pages of from time to time without actually reading. She scribbles in an open notebook next to her occasionally, giving the impression that she's actually doing the research she would normally be doing in this place and with these books. In truth, it's only a distraction, something to focus her mind on that isn't the knife's edge of depression she walks along.

She looks so... defeated at the table, dressed in black clothes embroidered with metallic black threads, her hair braided down her back rather than pinned up with her precious hair pin. In her own way, she's still mourning what happened to Steve, she's just managed to get out of her room to do it in public. Her family's tradition demands she move on after a week of mourning in private, but that doesn't mean she won't still do it away from the privacy of her room.

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She waves a hand at the offer, frowning harder at the pen. "It's fine. I can use the pen without issue most days. I just need to pay more attention to what I'm doing." She's not used to having a companion while she does research, especially one offering conversation engaging enough to distract her from her writing.

And everything Adia's saying is distracting enough that Amelia eventually abandons her pen to listen. She turns her whole body to Adia, her eyes slightly wide as she takes it all in. None of this compares well to things on her world, but her time in the Nexus allows her to understand the basics - at least of the machines. The mechanics of illnesses themselves are still completely foreign to her.

"How does seeing tiny things help with your work?" she asks after a brief, thoughtful pause. "People simply get sick from overtaxing their bodies or being of weak constitution, right? So why would a machine that allows you to look at tiny things even help?"

"Oh... okay." She really wishes that Amelia had said yes. It would have been a way that Adia could help her, however small. Fidgeting a little with her scarf, she adds quietly, "Let me know if you change your mind."

She has her undivided attention, though. That's good. Amelia's question about microscopes trips her up for a moment. She's used to misconceptions about disease, but the multiverse is fond of throwing her a new one every time it comes up in conversation. "Um... some people get sick from those things. But some diseases are caused by germs -- bacteria or viruses that enter our body and make us ill. You need a microscope to see them."

She nods a little, brushing off the offer with a calmly spoken, "I will." Not that she actually will, but lying has never bothered the rogue before and it certainly doesn't now.

"How do these germs make people sick?" One question about disease has apparently led to a whole string of them. Amelia leans forward a little, crossing her arms in front of chest as her head tilts curiously. "Do they have some need to do this to people? Or is it chance to gets one person sick while another stays healthy?" These questions are much more complicated than the rogue realizes, but she has no way of knowing that until she asks them.

They are good questions, but with deceptively complex answers, and it takes Adia a moment to gather her thoughts on how best to explain things to her friend. "Germs enter our bodies and use us like... a factory, basically, to make more copies of themselves. This causes all sorts of problems for us, depending on the germ, as our body tries to get rid of them.

"As for who gets sick and who doesn't... well, we're still trying to figure that out on my world. But it isn't pure chance. Some people naturally have stronger immune systems than others -- that means their bodies are better at fighting off illness. And with certain precautions, you can be around ill people and not get sick yourself."

Amelia doesn't mind the complexity of the answers, and the ones Adia gives her now are surprisingly easy for her to break down and understand. She works her way through all of them for a moment before she asks another, equally challenging one. One that hurts, though she does her best to ignore that for now.

"And people with weak bodies... do the germs prefer them? Is that why they're sick so much more often?"

Adia nods, not aware of the significance of Amelia's follow-up question. "Every body comes equipped with a network of cells, tissues, and organs that work together to protect it. But they don't all work equally well in all people. If someone's immune system is compromised, they'll get sick more frequently, and they'll get sick from germs that otherwise wouldn't have any effect on a healthy body."

Her heart sinks a little at the answer, if only because she can't stop it from calling up memories of the many times she held her little sister when the girl was ill with some small cold that barely affected the rest of her family. Or thinking of Steve when she'd found him ill at his apartment, once by her own hand when she knocked him into the snow when she was blinded by grief and rage at the end of the previous Winter. She frowns, her gaze falling to the floor between her and Adia.

"Is there no way to help them? To make them stronger so that they don't get sick so often and so harshly?" It's a vain hope and anything she learns she can't take back to her sister, but if Steve comes back... if she could only help him... it might be worth the struggle through the pain now.

As subtle as Amelia is trying to be, Adia can tell that her question isn't hypothetical. She leans forward, brow pinched with worry. Who is her friend worried about? Steve, maybe?
He could certainly due with a healthier set of lungs, but a better immune system isn't much help against blunt force trauma...

It's a morbid thought, and she pushes it roughly from her mind. Unfortunately, there isn't any sort of helpful, uplifting answer to take its place. "It depends on what part of the immune system is weak, but possible therapies vary from person to person." She tugs a little at the ends of her scarf and adds, "Sometimes the best solution is preventative. Vaccines, hand-washing... making sure they aren't around anyone who's sick."

What small attempt at subtlety Amelia might or might not have been trying for falls away at that answer. She grips her arms tightly, hugging them closer to herself where they're crossed over her chest as it tightens from the pain. Breathing becomes a little difficult, but there's another question she has to ask before the words don't come out anymore.

"So what happens when those same people get badly injured? Is it... harder for them to recover?" The real, unspoken question is there underneath the first ones: Is there any chance of Steve coming home?

Ah, so it is about Steve. Adia opens her mouth, quick to reassure her friend --

But the words don't come. Because the unfortunate truth is that she doesn't know if Steve's fragile constitution will make his recovery that much more difficult. She knows a lot about disease, but only in its details -- the DNA of a bacteria, the protein shell of a virus. Even when it comes to her first aid training, it's about fixing what she can and sending the person on their way. She doesn't know what happens afterwards.

She doesn't know.

Shutting her mouth, she swallows hard, then admits, "I... don't know if it's harder for -- for someone like that to recover." Hurriedly, she adds, "But I can find out for you. I'm sure there are several papers on the topic, maybe even a whole book." She'll read it cover to cover if she has to, if it can give Amelia, give them both some answers.

The metaphorical weight she's been feeling becomes a very real one as she slumps forward, her elbows finding her knees and her hands covering her face. Adia may not be a healer, but she knows enough to make educated guesses. And if she doesn't have an answer, if she's scrambling like this? Amelia's certain she knows the truth.

"Don't bother." Her voice is muffled behind her hands, and thick with the effort of holding back tears. "I don't want hope when he's... he won't... c-come..."

Anything further she might have said is cut off by the lack of air in her lungs. She can't breathe through the pain anymore. Her shoulders shake as silent sobs wrack her body and tears slip out down her cheeks. Her closest friend, one of the only people who cared about her, is gone and he's not coming back. It hurts like all of the heartache she's ever experienced coming down on her all at once and she can't even think straight enough to try to hide. To run.

She struggles for a few moments for a breath, inhaling sharply when she finally manages it. "I-I can't... I can't do this. I can't be here without... h-him." Her fingers inch their way up her face and grip her hair tightly, pulling some of it loose from the braid it's pulled back into as the sadness turns quickly to grief-fueled rage. "I can't lose the last person in this place who means this much to me!"

It's hard to watch Amelia's composure crack, to see her sit and cry, when Adia doesn't know what she can say or do to comfort her. All she has is her hope that Steve will pull through, but it seems so inadequate now, a tiny refuge in the middle of a vast, relentless storm.

She knows what it's like to lose the one person you cared about the most, after you've lost nearly everything else. What would she have wanted someone to say to her, in those hours she sat alone with Caspar's body? Tentatively, she reaches out and places her hand on Amelia's back, a gentle touch of the other woman will allow it. "It may feel like you're all alone, but you're not. I promise. I'm here and I'll stay here, as long as you need me."

A touch, even a comforting one, isn't something Amelia usually tolerates. She looks up sharply at Adia, her face contorted with anger and a dozen curses at the ready, when the other woman speaks. And suddenly, all the rage and anguish fall away, leaving only the emptiness and pain behind. Her lips tremble, and then her whole body shakes as her mind struggles to catch up to everything going on right now.

What's happening here? Why is she being so nice? No one cares about the rogue or her feelings. Dreams, in this moment Amelia's half certain not even Steve did. But here Adia sits, offering her time and her care to someone she doesn't really know, to someone who's worth so little to anyone.

"Why...?" Her voice is a hoarse whisper as she forces it out around a fresh wave of tears. "Why would you do that for... for me? I'm nothing, I'm no one. I don't--" Her breath catches in her chest and she drops her gaze to the floor, her hands covering her face again as she shakes her head. "I don't deserve such kindness. And you... You should go, before I... hurt you, too."

Adia jerks her hand back in the face of Amelia's rage. It's not often that an angry face is directed at her, and it triggers within her a sudden urge to flee. She sits back, a fearful apology on her lips --

And then it's gone, and her friend is sobbing fresh tears. Adia leans forward again, but keeps her hands in her lap. Amelia is grieving, but it's angry and full of self-loathing. Adia doesn't know how to deal with such negative emotions, but she's willing to try, especially because it sounds like no one else has.

"It's okay, I should have asked first before touching you." She thinks back to how her friends handled her anger and grief over losing Caspar a second time. "You can talk or, um... I can talk, or we can both just sit here, But I'm not going to leave you, Amelia. You're my friend, and you'd do the same for me." She pauses a beat and adds, "You did do the same for me, and you didn't even know me then. You deserve plenty."

Her eyes widen as the reality of what Adia's saying sinks in. It had seemed natural to stay with with the woman after offering her advice, and to make sure she got back to her world safely. Had she really done the right thing for someone without noticing? Was that what people usually wanted when they needed comfort? And...

...were they truly friends so soon?

"I..." She's too stunned to finish her first thought. Slowly, she draws her hands away from her face and sits up. It takes a few moments of breathing to calm herself enough to meet Adia's gaze, and even then it's more confused than anything else. How is it she found herself here with such a kind person and why do they care so soon after meeting her? It doesn't make sense, not where a person like Amelia is concerned.

"I don't... know how to be someone's friend," she admits softly, resting her hands on her knees palm up. "And I don't know what to do right now. I'm not used to being around... well, anyone when I'm like this." Usually she drives them away or is hiding in such a deep hole as to avoid everyone entirely. Being out in public like this, and having then been found, is a new thing for her.

The surprise is unexpected, and Adia dwells on it while waiting patiently for Amelia to gather her thoughts. Is it really that unusual for anyone to show this woman kindness? No wonder she's taking losing Steve so hard. He would never have left her otherwise.

When Amelia finally meets her gaze, she smiles softly and offers a hand. it's up to Amelia if she wants to take it, and she won't be offended if she doesn't. "You just need more experience. It doesn't come easily for anyone at first. And I don't think anyone knows what to do when they're grieving, either. I've been around loss for so long, and the only two things that I've learned is that it takes time to heal, and it's different for everybody."

For a long moment, she stares at Adia's offered hand. It's extended both in friendship and comfort and she doesn't know how to handle either of those things. She's let so few people in when something truly hurt her, and she's always managed to drive those same people away simply by being herself. Adia doesn't deserve that, but she's... not giving comfort when Amelia's asking for it; She's offering it before the rogue could even bring herself to ask.

Slowly, cautiously, Amelia reaches out and rests her hand in Adia's. Her fingers are trembling ever so slightly, but she can't stop that. Not when she's this scared and unsure.

"I'm better at driving people away than anything else," she says softly, her eyes lingering on their outstretched hands. Adia's hand feels so warm, but... maybe that's normal? She honestly doesn't know. "I also never mourn like this. At some point I usually just... bury it, and move on." It's healthier than the alternative of letting it consume her, even if she knows it would be better to work through it. But that's so much more difficult when she thinks she has to do it completely alone.

Not only offering comfort, but comfort on Amelia's terms. She's gotten too used to her friends being casual with physical signs of affection, she'll be more careful of Amelia's space from now on.

But, at least for now, hand-holding is acceptable. Keeping her gently encouraging smile, she holds her friend's hand, her grip loose enough that Amelia can pull away easily at any time. "I've never been able to do that... not for long, anyway. What, um... what do you think is different about things this time?"

It's still scary, but knowing she can pull back whenever she wants or if she gets too scared goes a long way toward making her comfortable. Comfortable enough that her hand stops shaking after a few moments. Small steps, but each one is important.

Her lips tug into a frown as she stares at their hands. "Everything is different. He--" She pauses to catch her breath, finding her chest painfully tight as she tries to form her thoughts into words. "He's one of the first people who gave a damn about me here. One of the first people I admitted to being my friend anywhere I've ever been. And he..." She sighs softly, unconsciously curling her fingers around Adia's. "He was like family to me. And family, it... it means everything to me. To lose him hurts more than I can possibly explain."

The loss of her own family nearly destroyed her, but she pushed through it, buried the pain beneath her will to survive and the knowledge that her world is still out there, somewhere, protected from this place. But Steve... he's not coming back and she has no idea how to handle that. Her eyes well up with tears again at the thought and her grip on the other woman's fingers tightens.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, still trying to breathe through the pain. "This is really hard for me."

Adia keeps her hand steady, content to let Amelia hold it as loosely or as tightly as she sees fit. "He's a good friend," she agrees quietly. "I can see why he means so much to you." She wasn't nearly as close to Steve, but she can easily empathize with her loss. "Friends like that are hard to come by, even for me. I'm sure he felt the same about you."

Is that why Adia can sit here, dry-eyed, while Amelia pours out her grief? Well, yes, the fact that she was only starting to become good friends makes her own loss less traumatic. But more importantly, she hasn't given up hope that he'll return some day, alive and well. It burns within her, small and steady, and keeps her tears at bay.

But Amelia doesn't want that hope, so Adia doesn't suggest it, even though she wishes that her hope was a tangible thing, something she could share.

"It's okay," She reassures Amelia. "I know it's hard to talk about it. I've lost family, too, and even thinking about them hurt too much, at first. But whatever you want to say, I'll listen."

She shakes her head again. What else is there to say about this? All she knows is that it hurts because he's not coming back. Steve was all but dead when she last saw him and now he's gone. What hope is there that he'll come back after all of that?

"I don't know what to do now that he's gone," she manages after a moment, ignoring the tears that have started rolling down her flushed cheeks again. "He was my closest friend and I... I still barely saw or spoke to him. I was such a terrible friend. I didn't deserve his friendship, let alone the precious gifts he gave me."

Her phone, the oils she uses for her leathers, the family of her portrait... She doesn't deserve them any more than she deserved to be his friend. A sinner like her - what is she worthy of anyway? Hiding here in the Nexus and claiming she's doing right by her all but forgotten world. Strong as she may seem, she knows she's a selfish coward and Steve's bravery during the horrid battle with Khan only goes to prove that he deserved so much more from her.

Her head falls forward and her whole body slumps inward under the weight of her despair. "This is all so wrong. He never should have been hurt like this for doing the right thing for others. It's not fair."

It's only a fraction of the hurt that Amelia must feel, but it's still painful to watch her friend going through such agony. She wants to give her a hug, but decides instead to pull out a clean tissue from her jacket pocket with her free hand, the other still holding onto Amelia's. "Here," she offers softly. "And you aren't a terrible friend. It's easy to let time pass in between visits." Sometimes you can let three whole months pass and wind up in a completely different Nexus. She would never judge someone for not staying in frequent touch.

Adia can't know the depth of Amelia's self-loathing, she can only see the despair that is weighing her down. But the unjustness of Steve's injuries, that they can agree on. "No, it's not fair at all... nothing about this invasion was fair." She falls silent for a moment, weighing over the worth of what she's about to say. "I don't think there's any way you could have convinced him to stay out of it, though. He very much wanted to help."

Rather than take the offered tissue, Amelia take Adia's offered hand into her own and clings tightly to it. Touching is a strange, often terrifying thing, but dreams does it make her feel better right now.

"I should've been there for him." She doesn't look up at all as she speaks, still unable to push back against the heaviness she feels. "B-before this and... and during this. I should have been there. Maybe then I could have... I-I could... have..." Her grip on Adia's hands tightens and the rest of her body sinks below the level of their hands. She's shaking like a leaf, but she's too lost in her feelings of grief to sense it. "I would have taken the fall for him, if I could have."

The additional hand-holding surprises Adia, but only for a moment. She adjusts her grip so Amelia can hold onto her comfortably, but it feels so inadequate, especially as the other woman seems determined to sink to the ground in her despair.

"I know you would have." She has no doubt of that. "But it's not your fault that you didn't. I know it's easy to blame yourself because... because then you'll have a reason for why it happened. But I don't think Steve would want you to blame yourself, or gotten hurt in his place."

She gives both of Amelia's hands a gentle squeeze. "Would you like a hug instead?"

She's not sure how to answer, or even how to handle someone trying to lift her back up from the darkness. No one does this sort of thing for her. No one ever gets close enough to know these feelings exist in her in the first place. And the last time she tried letting someone in, she ended up ruining it by being selfish.

Is it okay for her to want this? Is it okay to be so close to someone again?

Exhaling a deep, shaking breath, she tightens her grip on Adia's hands again.

"I... think I would."

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