Vacancy
by owelpost
2011
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual. I ripped off this disclaimer, too.
Summary: A different take on the scene between Bo and Lauren from the first season, episode eight. I took the liberty of changing it a bit. Short.
To Z Egloff, who did what I have not: become published!
xxx
I can feel the ache settle deep within my chest. It spreads, delivering an intense unpleasant tingling to all my extremities. I flex my fingers, holding out hope they at least will have been spared. As it turns out, nothing is sacred. I want to focus on anything but the ache, although as I look up through lids that are already slightly tear-blurred, I see Bo as she departs, head down but feet still managing a confident stride.
As I watch her walk away, my knees give out and I melt to the floor, releasing my tenuous grip on the bed sheet that is the only protection left to me. My right hand lands on the Ash's amulet where Bo has thrown it and I curl my fingers around it, squeezing so tightly that it bites into my flesh even with its softly rounded corners.
Somehow I find the strength to stand despite the fact that I have been dealt what feels like a killing blow. It is, I realize, a likeness of death that I am experiencing. Bo has wrenched my heart from my chest. She put her beautiful, slender fingers in amongst my ribs and freed it from its cage.
"Bo," I stagger a step forward. Another flurry of steps follows. "God damn it, please!" I have miraculously caught up to her. I realize, too, that I have not taken a full breath. A series of small impotent gasps have supplied little oxygen and my head is spinning. "Stop," I say, trying to grab for her shoulder. And suddenly anger is there to fill the cavernous vacancy. I manage to catch her arm, instead, and swing her toward me.
"You need to let me explain," I say, it is more of a demand than I intend. She looks up then and I see that she is not as unaffected as I assumed.
Whereas my tears have yet to be shed, hers are streaming down her cheeks, although she has now schooled her face into an indignant mask; one that I recognize is used to hide her true emotions. It is a defense mechanism that she is employing.
She plants her feet and hardens her features further, her jaw setting, cheeks turning a luminous shade of red. And yet none of this reaches her eyes. There is a fleeting look of pain, regret. Because I know her, I see a hint of sadness that others would undoubtedly miss.
"I don't have time for this, Lauren. The Ash has made your bed and by choosing to follow his orders, you have to lie in it."
"Bo-" I can't force any more words out and she has already begun to pry my fingers from her arm. For a moment she holds my hand gently and it is another kindness that betrays her true emotions. As she releases me, the threads that are all that keep me emotionally intact disintegrate.
"No!" The hoarse gasp gives way to sobs as I watch her slip out the door. I drop my cursed necklace. My heart, crushed, lies there on the floor before me in the shape of the
Ash's amulet.