Acetone and Glue

Chapter One: Daphne.

She bites back tears through clenched teeth; how could it possibly end like this? Usually, the girl sobbing on the floor, clutching the nearest body is her. Not this time. This time, she's taking a back seat to the dramatics. This time, she's not going to meet anyone's eyes or accept any comfort - even if she's screaming out for it. Nothing can be like it used be. Fact. Her life will never be the same again; recent events have ensured that all of their lives are irrevocably changed forever. Most harrowing of this, is that it's not for the better.

Never for the better.

Daphne shudders as she pushes behind her lids another round of fresh tears. She's vaguely aware of the commotion going on around her, but is unable to respond. Lights flash in the corner of her eye obnoxiously, hurting her head and making her feel even worse. Stranger still, the noise blaring from every angle is having no affect. It's as if she can't hear it, but in reality, she doesn't think she could cope without it. The noise drowns out the memory; the noise chases away the screams.

There's a mirror somewhere to her right, but she hasn't even checked her reflection yet. Truthfully, Daphne doesn't even want to. There's nothing there that she wants to see. Ragged hair, torn clothes that reveal stark bruises against deathly pale skin and eyes just as accusing as everyone else's. Her lip wobbles at the thought, but then a siren blares, and it all fades away again.

The new sirens alert her to the fact it's now nightfall - but it doesn't feel like it. It can't be more than twenty minutes since it all happened.

"Ms. Blake? Ms. Blake, I need you to look at me." She absently stares into the paramedics eyes, knowing there's nothing urgent about her. They don't need to look at her. She's not physically impaired, and that's all they care about. They don't care that her life is crumbling, lying in sharp, jagged remnants at her feet. They don't care.

Ultimately, Daphne doesn't believe anyone will understand or care. An intense feeling of isolation creeps around her, causing her to pull tighter the itchy blanket given to her.

"Just-just listen to me, okay? I know what happened, and I need you to - no, no, you're not listening! Listen,"

"Sir, we're going to have to ask you to leave if you don't calm down. Please take a seat and someone will be over to you shortly."

"But... you need to save him," There's a heartbreaking desperation that goes along with the crack in his voice, high decibels that occupy the word 'need' like they never did before.

Daphne closes her eyes as she hears it, a single tear carving its winning path down her delicate features. She owes him that much. She owes him her tears. Absently, Daphne wonders at how deranged and derailed she sounds to anyone else, but it doesn't matter. Does anything matter? She could have sworn everything did this morning.

It's funny how some things still remain the same, because she can still feel his gaze upon her. Daphne battles with the urge to turn, to turn and never look back - but she knows what she'll find. He doesn't want her (as he ever?) and she's sure he doesn't want her words. She can't forget his. She can't forget any of the accusations, the cold glare and the unrelenting harshness of their tone.

Bodies are carried out in white plastic bags, and it strikes her as such an insensitive and tragic end to a person. People whose families still think they're safe and sound; people who have legacies; people who have careers, children, dreams, love...

She can overhear officers speaking, unaware of her eavesdropping, with unintentionally callous words, "We're lucky, there should have been twice that amount dead."

Lucky.

Daphne almost has the inclination to march right up to them, looking them square in the eye and delivering one of her speeches that would most likely make little sense, but drive the point home. She doesn't do it. Sitting in the back of the empty ambulance, wrapped in a cocoon, Daphne doesn't want to leave. She knows she'll run into her, run into him, run into them. That, she can't handle.

"Daphne," A hoarse voice says near her, "They... They asked me to come get you. The officers need to speak with you." She glances up to the petite figure of her friend (are they friends?), not surprised by the charred skin coating her left arm, or the burnt fabric of her favourite orange sweater. Black soot decorates her face in thick layers, causing her glasses to look odd - even in their disheveled state. She would normally complain about replacing those. Velma refuses to meet her eyes, her chin held high in the air. Daphne can see her jaw shake though, she can see the slump in her normally stiff frame.

She tries to clear her throat, but it's unbearably dry, "Velma, I-"

"That's all." She snaps, before her eyes soften to the sky. "I can't see you for a while..."

"We should all be together, we can't leave-"

"This isn't like a normal mystery, Daphne," She spits words at her like a child being bullied for their lack of IQ, "We don't just discuss and move on. There's no moving from here, there's no growing from this. Even Fred can't fix this." Daphne shirks back at the brutality, wishing more than anything they could rewind. "If you thought otherwise, you're more naive than I ever thought."

She looks at her for the first time, and finally, Daphne can visibly record the blazing anger in Velma's eyes. That's all that's written on her face; pure, unadulterated anger. Breaking the gaze, Daphne can't help the rush of tears this time, but tries to stop them anyway. She blames her. Sucking in a shuddering breath, Daphne presses her hand to her mouth despite the futility of the action. Velma's gone. They're all gone.

As another white bag glides by her, this one with a figure much different to the rest, Daphne corrects herself. They're not all gone - only one of them is, and it'll haunt her for the rest of her days.

It's then that she begins violently shaking, sobs coming hard and fast, screams exiting her mouth even though she doesn't feel them.


A/N: Hey :) So, this is my first SD fic. It's a bit out of the ordinary, but still a mystery as you piece together what happened and what happened to who. I would like to take this chance to firmly declare that I will NOT BE BASHING any characters, even though it looks like Velma is the awful cow in this chapter. Believe me, this is the harshest you'll see her. The next chapter totally changes that.

Disclaimer: don't own SD or "Empty" by Ray LaMontagne, from which the chapter title is taken.

The fic will only be five chapters, each one from a different members POV. A third person POV, but a particular member. They'll occur in different times in relation to the incident above, and will NOT be in consecutive order. In some ways, it ruins the ending, but others, it makes the middle all the more mystifying.

Please, give me your theories on what happened and to who :) I'd love to hear it! Reviews would be might great. I should update tomorrow if I get some, since I have nearly all of the chapters finished.

Solve the mystery.

CN.