Re-read the Shapeshifter series a few days ago, and this oh-so-cheerful scene popped up in my head... Shapeshifter series & all its content the property of Ali Sparkes; I'm just borrowing them to play with.
She had wondered how this moment would feel. Wondered in dark days – and there had been plenty of those – on sleepless nights, on frantic runs, in those brief half-relieved half-terrified moments after the danger was gone and chaos remained, with the burning question of is everyone okay? echoing in everyone's minds, and on that one terrible day when they all thought the answer was no but in truth had been yes, and she had had nothing to fear.
Yet she had never realised it would be this bad, even with the near misses and the brief tasters.
Mrs Satre was talking, French accent thicker in her grief than anyone had heard it, tears glistening in her eyes. Thank gods it wasn't someone external. They wouldn't have said anything worth saying, just dry phrases about someone they didn't know, hollow praises and dry eyes. The words flowed over Lisa, not particularly registering. It didn't matter; even she couldn't completely close her mind to the thoughts of those around her today, and the sense of it was getting through just fine. Brave and kind, scared and strong, and above all gone. Mia was clutching her hand. Not sending out healing – not today: today there was no warmth, no spare feel-goody feelings even from Mia, just a hollow hopelessness and brokenness that made Lisa wish fervently that she was a healer herself. The only comfort was the tight grip on her right hand, and she welcomed the almost-pain. It was delightfully physical, here for the moment but transient. It would fade a matter of minutes after Mia gave up her desperate grasp on Lisa and Gideon, a mere memory, and for the moment it served as a partial distraction from the real pain.
Almost against her will, her eyes drifted from Mrs Satre's face, grazing over the gathered COLA's. Limitless Ability. It was a bitter thought, one that had been entrenched in her mind for the last three terrible days. Limitless, my ass. It had been worst for Mia, three days ago, because she had the guilt. It simmered in her mind on a cycle, and Lisa absently gave her hand a squeeze. Why couldn't I..? But some wounds even a healer couldn't fix. Not when the person was no longer a person, but just a body. A dead body. Now, Lisa reckoned she had the worst of it. Her eyes fixed on Dax, curled up by his father. No tears, not from him. No tears, no crying, just a steady gaze and a single thought.
Yes, Lisa had often wondered how it would feel, to sit at a friend's funeral and see them walking amongst the mourners.
So sorry.
And now she knew.
Edited as of 16/08/2014 to hopefully clarify the subject of Lisa's thoughts - the funeral is supposed to be Dax's, which was decidedly unclear in the first version.