What's in a Name?

She had always secretly coveted her middle name, that rare syllable which rolled on the tongue like fancy chocolate. It had the indelible taste of singular identity. Yet, in mere seconds, seemingly in spite of her, it bequeathed the bitterest turmoil.

Robert Quinn.

How could she not have known? All of these years… shouldn't she have felt the invisible threads that bind, the phantom pangs of a missing limb? She involuntarily swayed on her feet as yet another tenuous column upholding her tangible existence crumbled and ashes rose to take its place, spoiling the air with contemptuous satisfaction. It must be her heart that was choking now, for, in the vast and blackened wasteland of her familiar isolation, Callie registered a cold numbness spreading through her somnolent frame.

She knew that they were watching her. Everyone was watching her… waiting for her to move, to speak, to breathe… but Callie's body had already ascended the uninvited scene; her core had become unfettered, and her feet were kicking in premeditated, metaphorical flight.

With one glimpse of Jude's face, however, of his eyes swimming in a united loneliness, she found the floor again. She just had to reassure her baby, and then she could escape. Then she could breathe.

She doesn't remember what she said to him, her sweet boy, but she can see her fingers clenching the exit now, and she trusts internally, undoubtedly, that two steps forward will circumvent her impending collision and that two more after that will help her to forget that there had been one already.

A/N: I'm sorry that this is really short. I'll be able to update more regularly soon, assuming that you like the idea? :)