The Coda

[themidnightson]

I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it,
I'm crawling on your shore.
~*~

She's already there when he leaves Carlisle.

He can hear her waiting, that contagious silent cage.

It stops him at the closed door to the Freaks Closet, staring at it without being able to miss it's finite details of miniscule paint cracks and places where the dovetailing doesn't match up perfectly, and never seeing it at all. He could still walk away. His awareness waited on Alice waiting on him.

She was the only one who would understand, but still she wasn't in his head. No one ever had been. And now not no one but specifically someone, specifically Carlisle, had. But he was still all alone. And alone again. And breathlessly aware of what alone was in a brand new way. He didn't have to walk in. Alice would understand. He could just run until this explosion inside of him finally broke free, finally settled. Carlisle or Esme would handle the school.

He raised a hand, fingertips glancing the door, head bowed.

Comments

[betagainstme]

It will get easier, She thinks, stroking his hair again, bending her body so her head rested upon his.

There would always be the what could have beens, the sadness that for a short period of time, Carlisle was there...but they would move on. It would get easier. Things would return to a normalcy.

[themidnightson]

"He would've-" Edward said softly, but he stopped. What was the point of would've now? He moved, finally pulling away and pushing off the ground. He needed more space, even though he had too much of it.

He looked around the room, at all their things, casual disarray of their well lived, rarely invaded, space. He's not even sure he's talking to her or anyone, when he murmured. "He would have gotten all of this."

[betagainstme]

She rearranges herself to drape over the couch, watching him move and look around and think, talking aloud.

She doesn't answer him, because she doesn't have one that will make it all...okay. Alice crosses her arms over her chest and stares up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry."

[themidnightson]

He almost cringed, only just stopped himself from snapping at her not to be, but settled for scrubbing his a hand over his face, hard against his eyes and over his nose.

"It'll be fine." It's still and quiet, and the layer of dark sardonic irony is unmissable. Before he looked between his fingers, hard gaze but something almost pleading there, too. "Won't it?"

Because Alice would know.

[betagainstme]

She nods immediately, trying to hold back the hesitation, the quick flash of Carlisle keep his distance from Edward, but she doesn't start humming fast enough to keep Edward out of her mind.

Alice sits up again, pushing her hands into her hair and sighing. "It will be. But it will take time, and...he's...heard this, and he'll avoid, for a while."

[themidnightson]

"Of course," Edward said, very finite note. Everyone's heard this. And Carlisle would want space, because of this.

He should have tried to make it out of the house. How simple it would have been in retrospect. Just to have gone. The smarter decision. But his gaze moved back to Alice, thinking it would have been the lonelier one, too.

[betagainstme]

"You can stop it," Alice shrugs, "You know. Go and find him and make him stop."

Her shoulders lift in a shrug again and she smiles slightly. "Just a thought."

[themidnightson]

"No," Edward shook his head, walking back to the couch, settling for sitting down on the arm opposite her. His tone wasn't angry with the single word, just tired.

He couldn't. At least not without lying through a good half of whatever he tried to formulating saying to tide this off right now. And if Carlisle wanted space, for this, for all of it, he should have it.

[betagainstme]

Alice sighs from opposite him, running her hand through her hair again and shaking her head. "Okay. I suppose it's best if you give yourself time to calm as well."

She stands, moving to grab a pad and pencil and sit in an armchair. "Will you be okay?"

[themidnightson]

"You just said I would be."

It's a sham answer as much as an honest one. He's not but he will be, and he's better than ten minutes back, if marginally. He trusts Alice and her subjective visions unfailingly. It's not like he's lacking for time or the knowledge that it will keep passing.

[betagainstme]

In answer, she just opens the pad of paper and sets her pencil to it, drawing whatever her hand wants her to draw.

Then, let's not dwell, she whispers in her mind. Back to normal, at least here.

[themidnightson]

Edward let himself slip off the arm of the couch onto an actual cushion. His arms hung loose, fingers hooked together at the first digit, and his head resting on the back.

He watched Alice's sketch forming in his mind, as he studied the well known architecture of the ceiling, turning over what was and trying to push out the door what could.




Back to Normal, in the Freaks Closet, of all places.