Freedom

[amelia-z.livejournal.com]

This morning starts like any other morning. There were no restless points the night before, no enthusiasm-based insomnia, and this morning is cold and groggy.

As per usual, Amelia is awake disturbingly early. At five AM, she begins to collect her things. She has no one to say goodbye to, so the following four hours are spent packing in silence and solitude. For the first time in many years, Amelia's mind is clear.

When everything has been packed, the room looks like the only bit of life that might've ever breathed into it has been sucked out. It's become another dead cell, cleaned and prepped for someone else's humiliation.

Amelia covers her eyes, and closes the door.

There's two hours of meetings with her various doctors during her stay, and her lawyer. Then it's time to make the appearance in court. The warden and psychiatric head are kinder than she thought they'd be. Dr. Tomin is not, but Amelia keeps a neutral face and answers as best she can. The judge reiterates all the information of her release, but finally it's done. She signs a head-spinning amount of paperwork.

At seven after two-- at least, Eastern Standard Time-- she's on her way back to her big, empty house for the first time in many months. Setting down her things in the front hallway makes an echo. She closes the door, shutting out the snow and wind.

Comments

[amelia-z.livejournal.com]

Amelia stares at him for a few seconds, face neutral except for one confused brow.

Then she cracks up, flopping over on him as she's overcome with laughter. "[What's this? Awwww! Did your feelings get hurt when I was out of my mind? You big baby!]"

She backs off, still laughing and poking him in the arm. "I try to kill you and that's what hurts your feelings? That? Haven't we established that I was Super Mecha-Streisand level bitch? C'mon, give me some credit, I came up with way nastier things than that!"

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

He opens his mouth to speak, but the words abandon him. After a few seconds he slips into laughter himself, and even turns slightly red. He feels quite foolish, just now.

"Well, yes, but ..." He dawns his 'neener' face, and theatrically waves a fist. "One of these days, Amelia! ONE OF THESE DAYS!"

It's good to be laughing with her again.

[amelia-z.livejournal.com]

"Ooh! Ooh! I liked my 'you can't do this to me' tantrum! That was the best!" she says like an excited little kid.

"What'd I say? Communist? Did I actually call you a communist? You need therapy or Jesus or something, because 'workaholic' should not be that bad."

A pause.

"Calling Hawkins 'Toto' was way worse."

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

"I believe 'rat dog' was the icing on that particular cake, Bird."

"And hey, I didn't exactly get bent out of shape as often as I should have. After all, you still don't know I found the cocaine..."

Right. Wasn't going to say anything. Not fully recovered yet. "I've got to stop doing that."

[amelia-z.livejournal.com]

The smile disappears from Amelia's face. She looks like she's been slapped.

"It was the summer you moved out. Maybe I was trying to do something you couldn't protect me from," she says indignantly. Does Caleb even know what it's like to go through life wearing kid gloves for everything and having a pillow between you and every consequence?

"Look, I never picked it up again when I woke up. I know what kind of smear campaign my 'friends' ran after I went under. There's a lot you didn't know, because I needed to have my life without being under everybody's umbrella. A lot of it was true. And part of my psychosis, I guess-- I knew I wasn't that good underneath. All those little details everybody conveniently overlooked added up to something. I saw the same in Corrine. I thought we made perfect enemies; whoever wrote the prophecy knew that. Nobody made anything happen, someone just knew. I was bad before the sickness."

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

He knows she's right - he has always been a little too good at what he did. He managed to insulate her from so much trouble that it had to feel like she was going through life on safe mode.

"I was just trying to help," he offers meekly. "I just couldn't stand the thought of Father's temper turning on you one day. He had ... he had already decided he didn't like me, but you were different. You didn't need to go through that."

"I didn't mean to be ... over-zealous."

[amelia-z.livejournal.com]

'Feel like'?

Amelia would call that an understatement.

"I know you had good intentions." A small, if weak, smile. "It's what the two of us have, eh?"