Twentieth Unused Utility Belt | Video, voice, possibly spam

[hellofist]

[For anyone who was on the Barge for Christmas, this sight might be a familar one. Cass, alone in a bed in a blank room. No tears this time, just a haunted, lost kind of expression.]

Merlin is gone.

[She opens her mouth to say something else, but nothing comes. What is she supposed to say? That the person she loves most in the entire world is just gone and she didn't get to say goodbye? That she's terrified because she might not ever get to see him again? That she's sorry maybe, for all the people who love him and won't see him either. She switches the feed to just audio because it's easier that way.]

He might come back. He... did last time. Didn't remember things, but... he was back. That was... was what counted. So I guess... we just wait.

[She can do that. She can focus on him coming back, she has to.]

That's... that's all.

[Now things cut off completely. Should anyone happen to be passing by Merlin's now empty room, it might be possible to hear crying inside. Looks like she didn't manage to keep it together after all.]

Comments

[ Spam ]

[hellofist]

Can't leave. Not until... I know I'm done, here. And I'm not.

[And she promised Chris, she won't leave while he's still here. She won't risk abandoning the people that need her. She turns into him and wraps both arms around him, face against his chest as she holds on tightly.]

Sucks a lot.

[ Spam ]

[surfaceshine]

I know.

[And he does. He's left the Barge twice now but not for anything less than absolutely necessary reasons, and he'd waited until Kon graduated to check on Buffy that first time. The second time had been about Sam and, well. He's here for Sam. Nothing means anything if not for him.

Well. Not nothing. He tilts his head until he can lay his cheek on her hair, uncharacteristically gentle, and lets her hold on. His voice is low, a rumble in his chest more than anything, when he speaks after several long moments.]

I could... change my deal, you know. If you need to anyway.

[ Spam ]

[hellofist]

No, Dean.

[Her voice is gentle, but firm. She won't let him do that.]

Can make own deal. I have... other things, though. Things that come... before me.

[Arthur and Guinevere, saving her siblings from Cain's teachings. It will be impossible to ever forget, all she'll ever have to do is remember Mad Dog and how desperately he wanted her to see him, see him for what he was because of her father. She gives him a squeeze, trying to use him as a lifeline to keep her head above water, to not drown in how horrible this loss feels.]

Tell something good. Something happy, that you have.

[ Spam ]

[surfaceshine]

[He hadn't really expected it to fly, but he needed to make the offer anyway. Dean nods, and responds to her squeeze by tightening his own grip, intent on keeping her with him however he can.

Then she asks him that and he thinks, selfishly, that it's a good thing her eyes are closed. It's bad timing. He's not full of good things right now, fresh off the semi-loss of the thing - the person - that was making him happiest. But that ship hasn't sailed yet, there's still time to fix it, and for once that ball is in his court.

He pushes all of that away and picks something else, rubbing a hand idly up and down her arm.]

You know I've never been on a vacation? I mean, yeah, we took breaks and stuff sometimes but it was never like what happened in L.A. That was nice. I never liked that city much before...

The hotel room was nice. Beaches. Shittons of food. Didn't have to dodge the cops or anything. It was just... nice.