[ With zero need to pause and think about it, because she's had this settled since they all thought they were going to hike out: ] Fries into a milkshake poured onto a quarter pounder. And a Sprite.
[ They're not starving yet but the thought of real food covered in grease and salt and sugar makes her stomach clench like a fist. Below that, the anticipation of game running out as the weather gets worse makes for a sickening combination. They have the goat and the ducks, but they're fooling themselves thinking that little amount of food is going to get them through the winter. (And besides, what are they going to feed the animals?)
Melissa stares down at her hands as they turn red from the chill of the water. She can feel herself gearing up to ask about something that would get them both in a lot of fucking trouble if someone overheard it. ]
Hey, Hannah? I know you don't know where we are, but do you remember a general direction you went in to get out here?
[ Actually, she keeps thinking about that night, and the days leading up to it, as if she can will her memory to be perfect; but the fact is that the more she tries to remember, the less sure she is that she's recalling correctly. Those days have a hazy quality to them, like video tapes that have begun to fade. She shakes her head, Hannah remembers best that awful night, which comes with only one point that might be helpful to them. ]
Not really. It wasn't a straight path. We depended on Kodi. [ Too much, it turns out. ] All I can say for sure is that, the whole day before we found you, Edwin thought we should go south, but we didn't.
[ And she had trusted their guide, somehow still the cavalier young kid who took big risks because she'd been so lucky up until then.
No, that wasn't right. She had every reason to trust Kodiak, to lean on his expertise. He'd predicted rain on a perfectly sunny day, for fuck's sake. Even if it hadn't been kind of fun to mess with Edwin a little bit, she would've made the same choices. Right? Yes, of course. Of course she would have. ]
I know that's not very helpful. I'm sorry.
[ If apologies could fix things, the world would be a lot better. Yet the words hang in the frigid air, the sound of running water wrapping them up and carrying them downstream. Nothing has changed. Winter will fall upon them like a prison. Shauna will run the show like the bitter cold that awaits them.
Except there must be so much pain beneath that mask. Hannah knows how much power comes from crafting a persona and forcing oneself to live it, to be that person because anything else would see you fall apart, and that is something that can never happen. Not in the unkind environment of high school, and certainly not in the impassive brutality of the wilderness. ]
No, [ Melissa hastens to say, shaking her head. ] Don't be sorry, it's not your fault. I was just thinking... I don't know. Forget it.
[ Thinking about running. It shouldn't be a surprise. Melissa's convinced everyone is thinking it, even if they aren't saying it out loud. If the weather hadn't turned cold right when everything had gone to shit, she's pretty sure people would have already tried again even with Kodiak dead.
As things are now, it's only a low impulse, not urgent yet. The necessity of remaining a big group is still stronger, even fractured as it is. Maybe after the winter. But if things get bad enough, they might have to go sooner, even in the snow. She's waiting to see what happens. ]
How's Shauna? [ Melissa looks at Hannah, watching her face for the truth regardless of the answer she gets. Does she ever mention me? is sitting on the tip of her tongue, even though she knows the answer is probably no. The two of them just avoid each other and stare from across the fire or from the outskirts of group meetings, looking away before they can get caught doing it. ]
[ Ah, heedless youth. Hannah had been that way too, until she pushed too far and was forced to skip ahead to adulthood. All she wants to do right now is hug Mel and say nothing, but she can't risk fracturing their friendship, frail and uncertain as it is. ]
I think she's scared, [ Hannah says, her voice low, sympathy twisting up her insides for Shauna, for Mel, for all of these kids who've been through so much. If only she knew that Shauna also knows what it's like to carry a life inside you, Hannah would know just how right she is.
Or maybe not. Either way, she feels for them all, and she recognizes the look of emotional walls to keep one's fragile core safe. ]
She's suspicious of everyone, all the time. Especially me. We don't really talk. I'm not an advisor; I'm an enforcer. [ A tool. A symbol. An adult has ceded authority to a kid. ] Sometimes she has me stand guard and goes off by herself. I don't know where she goes, and I don't ask.
[ Mel knows where Shauna goes, and the look on her face must be one of recognition, but despite everything Shauna has done to them she still doesn't feel comfortable airing her private trauma out to someone else. Even knowing that, of all of them, Hannah is the one who can probably relate to it the most.
Part of it is fear—she trusts Hannah as much as she can, but if Shauna found out Melissa told her about this, of all things, Melissa isn't sure what she would do. The other part of it is selfish. She's the only one aside from Shauna who knows where the baby's grave is now. Shauna must, on some level, trust her to keep it a secret. ]
She always has been. Even before the crash, when she was with Jackie all the time. She was like, quieter than everyone else. [ Melissa hadn't ever really talked to Shauna before the crash, other than when she had to during practice or games, but she'd always felt drawn to that loneliness in her because it was something she felt inside herself too. ]
[ That's not surprising. Teenagers learn quick how to survive until they can figure themselves out. Confidence tends to come later, with time and the ability to look back after having learned and experienced more. The trouble with that for these teens is that what they're experiencing is far beyond the norm, and the lessons they're learning aren't the ones they would've come across in their first year of college.
She doesn't say, "I know you're all feeling lonely, in your own way, because I felt it too, and I feel it now again." Even Tai and Van, ostensibly still happy together, suffered a shakeup to their relationship when Van was ready to follow Kodi home but Tai wanted to stay. ]
I wish I could help. Actually help.
[ Any of them. All of them. Hannah wants to go home and get all of them home too, but she also wants to get to know them, give them advice if they want. She has ten years on them but isn't so far removed as to forget what it's like at their age. She wants to be someone they can trust, someone who inspired peace and confidence. Instead, she's playing cop for Shauna, who's too afraid to be honest for fear of falling apart. ]
We're gonna make it through this winter. And then... maybe spring will make everyone feel hopeful enough to try leaving. Or at least moving camp.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ They're not starving yet but the thought of real food covered in grease and salt and sugar makes her stomach clench like a fist. Below that, the anticipation of game running out as the weather gets worse makes for a sickening combination. They have the goat and the ducks, but they're fooling themselves thinking that little amount of food is going to get them through the winter. (And besides, what are they going to feed the animals?)
Melissa stares down at her hands as they turn red from the chill of the water. She can feel herself gearing up to ask about something that would get them both in a lot of fucking trouble if someone overheard it. ]
Hey, Hannah? I know you don't know where we are, but do you remember a general direction you went in to get out here?
no subject
Not really. It wasn't a straight path. We depended on Kodi. [ Too much, it turns out. ] All I can say for sure is that, the whole day before we found you, Edwin thought we should go south, but we didn't.
[ And she had trusted their guide, somehow still the cavalier young kid who took big risks because she'd been so lucky up until then.
No, that wasn't right. She had every reason to trust Kodiak, to lean on his expertise. He'd predicted rain on a perfectly sunny day, for fuck's sake. Even if it hadn't been kind of fun to mess with Edwin a little bit, she would've made the same choices. Right? Yes, of course. Of course she would have. ]
I know that's not very helpful. I'm sorry.
[ If apologies could fix things, the world would be a lot better. Yet the words hang in the frigid air, the sound of running water wrapping them up and carrying them downstream. Nothing has changed. Winter will fall upon them like a prison. Shauna will run the show like the bitter cold that awaits them.
Except there must be so much pain beneath that mask. Hannah knows how much power comes from crafting a persona and forcing oneself to live it, to be that person because anything else would see you fall apart, and that is something that can never happen. Not in the unkind environment of high school, and certainly not in the impassive brutality of the wilderness. ]
no subject
[ Thinking about running. It shouldn't be a surprise. Melissa's convinced everyone is thinking it, even if they aren't saying it out loud. If the weather hadn't turned cold right when everything had gone to shit, she's pretty sure people would have already tried again even with Kodiak dead.
As things are now, it's only a low impulse, not urgent yet. The necessity of remaining a big group is still stronger, even fractured as it is. Maybe after the winter. But if things get bad enough, they might have to go sooner, even in the snow. She's waiting to see what happens. ]
How's Shauna? [ Melissa looks at Hannah, watching her face for the truth regardless of the answer she gets. Does she ever mention me? is sitting on the tip of her tongue, even though she knows the answer is probably no. The two of them just avoid each other and stare from across the fire or from the outskirts of group meetings, looking away before they can get caught doing it. ]
no subject
I think she's scared, [ Hannah says, her voice low, sympathy twisting up her insides for Shauna, for Mel, for all of these kids who've been through so much. If only she knew that Shauna also knows what it's like to carry a life inside you, Hannah would know just how right she is.
Or maybe not. Either way, she feels for them all, and she recognizes the look of emotional walls to keep one's fragile core safe. ]
She's suspicious of everyone, all the time. Especially me. We don't really talk. I'm not an advisor; I'm an enforcer. [ A tool. A symbol. An adult has ceded authority to a kid. ] Sometimes she has me stand guard and goes off by herself. I don't know where she goes, and I don't ask.
She seems so lonely.
don't look at meeee this is so late
Part of it is fear—she trusts Hannah as much as she can, but if Shauna found out Melissa told her about this, of all things, Melissa isn't sure what she would do. The other part of it is selfish. She's the only one aside from Shauna who knows where the baby's grave is now. Shauna must, on some level, trust her to keep it a secret. ]
She always has been. Even before the crash, when she was with Jackie all the time. She was like, quieter than everyone else. [ Melissa hadn't ever really talked to Shauna before the crash, other than when she had to during practice or games, but she'd always felt drawn to that loneliness in her because it was something she felt inside herself too. ]
no subject
She doesn't say, "I know you're all feeling lonely, in your own way, because I felt it too, and I feel it now again." Even Tai and Van, ostensibly still happy together, suffered a shakeup to their relationship when Van was ready to follow Kodi home but Tai wanted to stay. ]
I wish I could help. Actually help.
[ Any of them. All of them. Hannah wants to go home and get all of them home too, but she also wants to get to know them, give them advice if they want. She has ten years on them but isn't so far removed as to forget what it's like at their age. She wants to be someone they can trust, someone who inspired peace and confidence. Instead, she's playing cop for Shauna, who's too afraid to be honest for fear of falling apart. ]
We're gonna make it through this winter. And then... maybe spring will make everyone feel hopeful enough to try leaving. Or at least moving camp.