Є027 spam/voice [slightly forward dated to 01/24]

[forgetyourusedtobe]

spam - simon.

[When Elena wakes, she sits up abruptly with a loud and harsh gulp of air. She looks around the room with only her eyes at first, her neck too stiff and sore to move without pain, trying to figure out where she is. Elena at first is blinking rapidly because she remembers what happened and she has to do something to keep the tears back. Her heart is pounding in her chest as she tries to calm her breathing.]

[After a few seconds, she realizes she's not alone. Elena turns her head to look at him with a small wince, hand instinctively reaching to rub at her neck. They haven't met before, but she assumes he's the one who found her on the deck. (And this is probably his room.) Did he find Dean, too? (She wonders if Dean's okay. Maybe he doesn't deserve her concern, but it's reflexive and she can't help it.) There's also the question of who exactly this guy is. But she starts with her first question.]

Where's Dean?

voice.

[Elena doesn't stay in Simon's cabin long. Once she's done talking with him, she manages to keep herself together until she makes it to her cabin. She closes her door and leans against it. For a brief moment, it feels like she'll be okay. But alone, with no one to pretend that she's fine in front of, she can't keep the tears back any longer. Elena purses her lips as her vision blurs with tears before she slumps down onto the floor feeling entirely exhausted and empty.]

[She thinks of reaching out to people. She picks up her communicator countless times trying to make herself call someone. Abigail, Arkin, even the stupid impulse to call Dean. (At one point, she fishes out the cell phone he gave her, just staring at his phone number knowing there's no way to actually reach him.) But each time she ends up setting it back down with a fresh wave of tears. But she's not just crying entirely for herself.]

[She didn't deserve that. She knows she didn't deserve that. But it didn't just come out of nowhere. That Dean is this far gone hurts. It hurts not just for herself, but for everyone who's ever known him. And it hurts Dean most of all.]

[When she finally feels like she can keep it together long enough, she picks up her communicator.]

If you found my diary, I'd appreciate it if you'd give it back. [She draws a steadying breath, pushing her hair back out of her face. There's a small sniffle.] I'm uh... I'm in my room. Level 4, room 3.

Thanks.

[She cuts it there.]

Comments

[irishrotter]

[The room is small and cozy-looking, except for the large cross on the wall and the icons of Jesus and Mary overlooking the mirror. Really, it looks like it should belong to someone's aunt -- and it did, at one point. Simon hasn't really made much in the way of changes since he moved in. Similarly, the bed is soft and warm and welcoming. Much better, he'd thought, than a cot in the infirmary, which he wouldn't have trusted anyway.

He's sitting by the bed when she wakes up, reading quietly until he hears her gasp. His skin is gray, his eyes white, but his expression is kind. He stands and leans over her, looking her over with concern.]

Hey. You're back. You okay?

[He hears the question; he just chooses to ignore it. Dean can rot in Hell, for all he cares at this particular moment.]

[forgetyourusedtobe]

[She isn't entirely ungrateful to have been brought to a cabin. Simon probably wasn't the only person who saw what Dean did. Or at the very least, people have probably started hearing and talking about it by now. At least in his cabin, she's got a chance at a little bit of privacy before she heads back to her own. A chance to steel herself before she has to explain any of this to anyone who wants to ask her.]

[Elena starts to shake her head in response to his question until she feels a twinge of pain and thinks better of it.]

I'm fine. Where is he?

[For someone who just had her neck snapped by the guy, she should probably sound a lot more pissed off than she is. It doesn't sound at all like she has any desire to return the favor because she doesn't. She just wants to know that he's okay and is just as single-minded about it as she would be if she did want to wring his neck.]

[Elena does appreciate Simon's concern though. She's just failing to convey that at the present moment. She's also notices his appearance, but isn't visibly bothered by it in the least bit.]

[irishrotter]

I don't know.

[Although this is said in the tones of someone who didn't exactly try very hard to find out.]

Down in a holding cell, I assume.

[He's looking closely enough that he notices that little twitch of movement, the moment when she starts to shake her head and stops. He frowns. Whatever she is now, she's not his kind of undead, but he's learning that he does still have some sympathy left for people other than PDS sufferers and their immediate kin.]

You're safe here. I promise.

[forgetyourusedtobe]

[Elena doesn't know what to make of his answer exactly beyond that she thinks there's been some misunderstanding. Well, maybe not a misunderstanding of the facts. It is a little hard to dispute that Dean attacked her. But the context is missing and it matters. Or Elena thinks it should. She's just trying to piece it together herself.]

[She swings her legs over the edge of the bed and scoots close enough that she can put her feet on the floor.]

Thanks, [she says, softly. Elena opens her mouth to say that she should go, but she's not ready yet. Her gaze drops to the floor as she plays with her daylight ring on her finger.] I'm sorry if you got hurt because of...

[But she stops there. She shouldn't be apologizing for Dean, but she does feel she has some responsibility for what happened. Especially if Simon got caught in Dean's crosshairs because of it.]

[irishrotter]

Nah. [He cuts in as soon as she cuts off, shaking his head.]

Don't worry about that -- he couldn't if he tried.

[It's not completely true, but it's close enough. The dizziness has passed by now, and Dean's fists didn't leave any particularly noticeable marks. He's fine. Angry, but fine. But she seems a little uncomfortable, he notices, and he sits back down in the hopes that will ease it.]

I'm Simon. Simon Monroe.

[Is that it? Waking up in a strange dead man's bed?]

[voice]

[themissingpiece]

What happened? [have that very scary serious tone he saves for special occasions. He may or may not be plotting revenge.]

perma-private

[forgetyourusedtobe]

[She recognizes the tone and while she's not afraid of Arkin, she's afraid of what he'll do. The last thing she wants is anyone to retaliate against Dean, but Arkin least of all.]

Arkin, I'm fine. I promise.

[themissingpiece]

You're fine now, you mean.

What happened?

[forgetyourusedtobe]

Arkin, if I tell you, you have to promise me that you aren't going to do anything.

[Because it's not that she wants to keep him in the dark and doesn't want him to know. Of all the people on the Barge, it's Arkin she should be able to talk to about this. But she doesn't want Arkin to go after Dean, to try and take revenge for something that maybe she didn't deserve, but she certainly earned in her own way.]

[themissingpiece]

[There's a sound of frustration and a thud. He may have kicked something.]

Okay, fine. I promise... I won't plan on anything. But I can't promise anything if somebody starts something with me over this.

[maced_eggs]

Where's your diary gone, love? This wasn't my thievery, I promise you.

[forgetyourusedtobe]

It was on the deck. [She hesitates and avoids getting into the details of why it was left behind.] I haven't been up there to check for it, I probably-- I probably should have looked first.

[maced_eggs]

Right. Has someone gone up after it, or would you like me to?

S'got girl secrets in it?

[forgetyourusedtobe]

[If she were in a better mood, she might joke a little more about these so-called "girl secrets," but right now she just wants it back. All she can offer is a very wry joke back.]

If you mean would I possibly be mortified if someone read it? Possibly.

[maced_eggs]

I won't read it. I don't want to know how cute you find me.

[leavetreadmarks]

What, like, someone stole it?

[forgetyourusedtobe]

Unless someone picked it up and isn't giving it back, nobody stole it.

[She'd hope the Barge was above petty middle school grade theft though.]

[leavetreadmarks]

[Okay but Elena where in the hell did you ever get the idea that that particular hope is realistic.]

So you just... lost it?

[forgetyourusedtobe]

[UM LET HER DREAM, LETTY.]

Pretty much.

[leavetreadmarks]

[UM NO, SOMEONE HAS TO BE THE PRACTICAL ONE AROUND HERE.]

Okay, well.

Where was the last you saw it?

Private

[voluntaryapnea]

[He debates for a long time about what to say. They haven't even talked since her reappearance on the Barge. Things are always crazy here.]

Hey. This is Stiles. [He pauses.]

I don't know if you remember me or not.

[forgetyourusedtobe]

Scott's mentioned you before.

[So no, she doesn't remember him on her own.]

[voluntaryapnea]

[He's not surprised. Sometimes people remember, other times they don't.]

Yeah, Scott's my best friend. [He takes a deep breath.] And Dean's my inmate.

[forgetyourusedtobe]

[Well, that makes more sense why he's contacting her right now. Not that it would necessarily be above or beneath Stiles to just contact her out of common courtesy. But it makes more sense.]

I guess someone already filled you in on what happened?

[voluntaryapnea]

Yeah, my friend Kira. Can you tell me about what happened?