Note: Hi! I've done a very poor job of keeping this site updated! Yikes! Here's the most recent fic. Oh, and SEASON 3 FINALE SPOILERS(ish)!
Call me back
Cosima walks back into the shop, and it feels wrong. Her body should be humming with energy, she should feel light. But her stomach is clenching and she might be sick. Something isn't right.
The dread overwhelms her suddenly, backhands her like a wave of nausea. She spins around and races for the door, slamming her hip into the counter on the way. She doesn't notice.
She stumbles back out onto the street, already shouting Delphine's name, but the street is empty. There's just a dim glow of taillights in the distance. She shouts again, louder, as the taillights fade.
She digs her phone out of her pocket, dialing Delphine's number. The phone rings four times and then goes to voicemail. Hello. You have reached the voicemail of Delphine Cormier. Please leave your name, number, and a short message, and I will return your call as soon as possible. Thank you.
She paces the sidewalk impatiently, waiting for the recording to end, anxious for the beep.
"Hey, Delphine. It's me. Come back, okay? Come inside for dinner. Everyone would be glad to see you. Just, just come back. Whatever is on your schedule for tonight, it can wait, yeah? We'll leave after dessert, go back to my place for a drink. We could talk about things, catch up. Or not. We could just drink and see where the night takes us. Like old times, right? Delphine, just come back. Okay, well, love you. Bye."
She spits out the last three words without thinking, and disconnects the call.
"Shit," she mutters, pushing up her glasses and pressing a cool palm to her forehead. "Shit."
She tries Delphine's number once more, but hangs up after the fourth ring and heads back inside. She tries to quell the churning in her stomach, tries to tell herself everything will is fine.
Ten minutes later, in the middle of slicing the Alison Hendrix victory cake, her heart stutters. She feels it falter in her chest, and her knees collapse. As she drops to the floor, she doesn't hear the knife clatter in the distance. She doesn't hear the shouts of her family as they rush to her. She doesn't hear the dull thud of her head on the wooden floorboards.
All she hears is the pulse of the blood pounding through her ears as the breath leaves her chest in one giant rush and refuses to return. Her lungs fail, all oxygen abandons her. She coughs and sputters, gasping for air and finding nothing.
They surround her, her sisters and friends, but she fights them off, scrambling to find her phone. It's lying beside her, a jagged crack running across the screen.
Her chest heaving, giant fruitless spasms in an airless room, her fingers fumble over the screen, dialing Delphine's number again.
It just rings and rings.