IC CONTACT

[blowfish]

"Yo, there's no beep on this thing."

[ VOICE, VIDEO, ACTION ]

Comments

7/15

[hasitsthorns]

[ Every loss hurts in its own way. Sometimes Rose's heart still aches to think of Wally and his dorky attitude. Sometimes her own chest tightens when she remembers Sam's very life being choked out of him by vines. The shot gun blast that had taken down Dean still echoes through her sleeping mind occasionally. They all left their own little marks.

Yet nothing could have prepared her for the gash this sudden absence inflicts on her heart. The thought (he's gone, just like all the rest claws into her mind almost immediately. Still, Rose waits. She hopes. She hums quiet tunes that her guitar plays itself to in a stifling silence. Every entrance and exit has her leaping up in excitement, only to be crushed by disappointment when it's not the presence she's wishing for.

Eventually, her pessimism gets the better of her and she idly scans the phone once, twice, more times than she cares to admit because she can't find what she's looking for. Everything about her grows weary; a bone-deep exhaustion seeps into ever part of her, down to her very soul. Rose wilts at the realization.

He's not coming back.

Pinpointing anything is hard in the numbness that clouds her thoughts, her actions. For a while, she runs on autopilot and does anything and everything she can to not think about how quiet the house has inexplicably become. There's a void in her life that she doesn't even begin to know how to fill. It isn't the first and it likely isn't the last but this one hits harder than all the rest for so many reasons.

He was her first. He was her friend. He was part of her pack, which wasn't something to be taken lightly. He had saved her life. He was one of the extremely few things that made this house feel like a home in all the right ways. There was so much she wanted to learn, so much she wanted to tell. The regret over that is the most poignant of anything, she thinks.

Was, she realizes she's saying. Was.

His scent lingers on his shirts; she finds herself wearing one without even meaning to. He'd always teased her about stealing his style and she wishes, wants more than anything, for him to make a quip about it right now.

But he won't. He might never again.

The realization that Jesse is well and truly gone finds Rose curled up under her covers in one of his over-sized shirts; the sobs she's choking on are contained and quiet but depressingly heart-wrenching to anyone that happens to hear them. Finally, she cries herself exhausted and doesn't have the energy to do anything but sleep. Not surprisingly, it doesn't do anything to alleviate her grief as her mind is littered with nightmares of someone she cares about most trapped in a place she can't reach.

It leaves her feeling absolutely useless in every sense of the word. Worthless. Hopeless. Despair seeps into her every waking and sleeping thought; there is nothing she can do.

Haven truly is Hell, isn't it? ]