wickedchouette | (no subject)

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[When the car radiator overheats for the third time in a week, Alfie takes it as a sign that it's finally time for more than just another quick tune-up.

They're in a deserted area, which is both good and bad. On the one hand, most of the dangerous gangs are still in urban areas, the way they had been before the world had gone to shit. Out here in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by miles and miles of fields with only the occasional small copse of trees, they're not likely to run into anyone at all, much less anyone dangerous. But on the other hand, if they do come across anyone, there won't be anywhere to run to or hide. Alfie, as always, has his pistol tucked into his coat pocket, and they have more weapons stashed away in the trunk. But they're a small group - no match for the bigger gangs with armored trucks and heavy artillery. If they meet one of those, they'll be slaughtered.

With his sleeves rolled up and the hood of the car open, he leans in with his tools, carefully tinkering away. He can't afford to make a mistake here - replacement parts are rare and precious. When he hears footsteps behind him, he doesn't dare look away from his work as he says sharply:]

Stay back. You don't want hot steam to the face.

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[ That breaks Royce, who drags in a shuddery, wet breath and tries to swallow it down. Mercy looks at him, and then at Alfie, and then she carefully reaches out to Alfie, both little hands trying to bring him closer. She wants all of them close - and she can't cry, because Royce is crying and he never does that, not ever, so she has to not do it, this time.

It's hard, though. She understands what's happening, now, and she doesn't know what to do or how to respond to it. She wants to cry, but she doesn't know if that's okay.

Gwen's eyelids flutter closed again, breaths shallow and far apart. ]

[Alfie scoots a little closer, his shoulders stiff and hunched. He hasn't lifted his hand from Gwen's shoulder, and he doesn't snow, but he moves his other hand over to Mercy and hangs onto one of hers, giving her what he hopes feels like a reassuring squeeze.]

Yeah, and we love your mum, don't we? We all do. I do.

[ She holds onto Alfie's hand tightly, slightly reassured by this. ]

Yeah... yeah, I love her a lot. [ Mercy says in a tiny voice, scooting closer to Alfie. She sniffs, and then makes a whimpery sound, but this time, Gwen doesn't respond. Neither does Royce, not to Mercy - he pushes Gwen's hair out of her face and whispers quietly to her, words for her, just against her ear.

Mercy rubs at her eyes with her free hand, and Royce knows he should comfort her but he can feel himself shutting down right along with Gwen. She's so closed to faded out entirely and he can't breathe thinking about it, pulling her close, cradling her and hiding his face. ]

[Alfie squeezes Gwen's shoulder again, maybe a little too tightly. He does it again, and again, and it's only then that he realizes that he's looking for some sort of reaction.]

[ She doesn't react.

And it doesn't take long, maybe just another half hour of them sitting, curled up with her. Mercy climbs into Alfie's lap and hides, whimpery little crying muffled against his shirt, and eventually she wears herself out, falls back asleep.

Mercy is out when Gwen slips away. She drags in one last wheezing, struggling breath and then exhales. A beat, another, and Royce shakes her gently, but there's nothing. He's nothing, there's nothing left. Royce pulls back, staring at her, expression stricken. His mouth opens, but he can't speak, and so he closes it, resting his hand on her cheek, eyes going dead. ]

[Alfie - who has kept one hand on Gwen's shoulder, and the other wrapped around Mercy - finally lets go. He pulls the little girl closer, and lets his own eyes fall shut, silently saying a prayer for the dead.]

[ It doesn't register. It doesn't register at all, and Royce just shakes his head, leaning to press a kiss to her forehead. He drags in a breath as he pulls back, not sure what to do. She's gone, and he doesn't know what to say or how to react other than just hold her for a moment, staring down at her. ]

... Solomons. [ Royce says after a long, long moment, voice broken. ] I don't - I.

[His mouth is dry, and there's a lump in his throat. He has to swallow several times before he can speak.]

We need to bury her.

No. [ Royce says sharply, looking at Alfie. ] No, I don't. You don't. Don't.

[ They have to, but there's something terrible and painful threatening to crawl up his throat and out, and he can't deal with it. He can't think, fuzzy and panicked. He's trying to shut it back down, dragging in an unsteady breath. ] Sh -- she. She's.

We can't leave her here. She needs a grave, a marker--

No. [ Royce says, and it's louder, loud enough for Mercy to startle in Alfie's arms, waking up with a little noise. Royce freezes, staring at her, and he can't, he can't explain to her - he can't even explain to himself.

They can't just leave her here, he has to - there has to be a way to take her with them, he can't just leave her in a grave somewhere that he'll never go back to, he can't.

Mercy looks at Royce, and then looks at Gwen, and very quietly asks: ] Mom?

Royce.

[He tightens his hold on Mercy, and looks at Royce almost pleadingly.]

We can't.

[ His breath is quick and painful sounding, but he agrees. He can't. They can't. For Mercy, he has to slow down. He has to try, for her, but he isn't sure he can. He isn't built that way, he doesn't know if he has it in him to be selfless like that, it's not a natural thing. It was natural for her. Was.

Royce slowly sets Gwen down on the bed. Evens out. Don't break right now. Later.

His voice is flat. ] Mercy. Your mother, she's.

[ He can't say it, but Mercy understands, and immediately bursts into tears with a little wail, and Royce flinches at the sound, movement stuttering between holding Gwen and instinctively gathering his daughter up and holding her. ]

[Alfie runs a hand through her hair and down her back, rubbing, but at the same time loosens his grip on her in case Royce wants to take her.]

Royce. We need to, before it gets dark.

[They can't leave her here all night. They can't let her start to decay, even a little. They can't let flies come, or the rats that surely live inside the walls.]

[ He tries. He reaches for Mercy and she goes immediately, bawling into his coat, and Royce holds her close, bringing his coat around her. He can't think over his heartbeat thudding in his head. ]

I can't leave her here. [ Royce says, looking at Alfie, expression devoid of anything. His voice only skips a little ] They'll destroy h-her -- her grave. Has to be somewhere hidden.

I didn't look at the area around the house. I don't know what's here.

I don't care. It can't be - it can't be here. It will not be here. Further down the road, off near a patch of woods. Not far. I'll carry her myself if I have to.

We've got the car. We'll take her in the car.

Alright. [ Royce avoids looking at her. Carefully, he rocks Mercy back and forth, keeping her covered up, and then, abruptly, scoops her up and slides off the bed. He carries her to another part of the house, away from the body, away from - what was Gwen. What isn't, anymore.

Mercy doesn't have to be right there. ]

[Alfie stands when he does. He stops in the doorway, hesitating, looking back at Gwen on the bed. Then he turns and follows Royce.]

[ Mercy cries for a while. Royce holds her through it, but he doesn't have anything to say. Nothing reassuring, nothing comforting, just silence. When she finally subsides into little hiccups, Royce tells her quietly that she should sit with Alfie for a while, and then leaves, goes outside. It's too much for him to handle and he knows, somewhere, that Alfie might scold him later, but he can't handle both his grief and her's.

Mercy goes to Alfie with a desperately sad face, looking up at him. ]

Come here.

[He holds a hand out to her.]

Come here, come here--

[ There's little to no hesitation - she practically runs to him, throwing her arms around him and hiding her face in his coat, with a little whimper. ]

Your dad's gonna get the car started up, so we can move your mum.

[At least he hopes that's what Royce is doing.]

Oh, darling, Mercy...

[He holds her close, closing his eyes against the grief.]

[ She shakes her head. ]

She's, um. [ Mercy sniffs, clutching at Alfie. ] She's not gonna... she isn't... she isn't really, right? Dad's gonna go look for medicine still, she doesn't have to go stay with your family.