In the Aftermath

Thanks to Rhi for letting me play yet again in her sandbox with Panzer/Davis' toys, and for taking a look at this before I posted it. :-) This is set post-Sirocco, and makes more sense if you've read that story.

In the Aftermath

by Raine Wynd

From Rich Ryan's journal:

Doesn't seem like a week's gone by since that whole mess ended, and I kinda forgot about this until I started unpacking some of the stuff I hadn't unpacked yet. It's late, and the house seems strangely empty.

Everyone's scattered in a million directions, it seems like, and me? Me, I'm stuck more or less holding the fort, it seems. Again. Marc and Aidan are in Greece; Connor's with Xan and Alex; and Adam and Mac have vanished into God knows where. I've lost track of where everyone else has gone.

Funny, no one asked if I was interested in going anywhere. Maybe I should've asked. I can just hear Mac muttering about that ask-for-help reflex, and I feel like I'm seventeen all over again, fumbling around and so sure I was going to fuck up and get left behind. Especially that first time Paris was mentioned.

Except I'm not seventeen anymore, Mac's been pretty cool about everything, and I'm still left behind. I haven't fucked up anything. Damn it, I wanted to help....do something, something other than keep an eye on Marc, and wait for everyone to get back. Now...now everyone's back, and gone, and I got stuck holding the pieces. I know it's supposed to be some sign of maturity and trust that I'm the one holding the fort, but damn it.... I didn't think, when I told Aidan not to worry about it, that it would be only me. Don't know who I was thinking would stay, but I was sure it would be someone.

I just want to get on my bike and ride to nowhere, but I can't do that; I left my bike at Damien's. Aidan wouldn't mind if I borrowed that Harley of hers, but I know she'd make me pay for it later somehow. I dunno, maybe—

Fuck. No one'll notice if I'm gone for a few days, as long as I stay out of trouble, and it's not like I don't know how to catch a bus or hitch a ride. Maybe by the time I get to Charleston, I'll be in better shape to ask Damien about that sales job.

Read the sequel by Ms. Lizzy: Waking Up and Looking Back

Back to: Rhiannon's Eyrie