I'm not very happy with this, but I decided I'd post it anyway, on the off chance that someone out there enjoys it :) Written for quill_it at Livejournal, my prompt was 'gone'.
Empty. Cold. It was as if her fire, her soul, the very thing that kept her alive and burning, had been extinguished - she was alone, in the darkness.
The moon was high in the sky outside, its silver beams illuminating the room. She was in bed, curled under the covers, face buried in the pillow, but still chilly. It wasn't even her bed. It was his. It still smelled like him, too - she clutched his pillow tightly, eyes squeezed shut against the world, as if she could will him back to her, and when she opened her eyes, he'd be right next to her, fast asleep, one arm curled around her waist as it had been so many times before.
It took her a moment to realize she was crying, and the pillow was slightly damp. Reason told her that if she held onto it for much longer, his scent would begin to fade, replaced with her own. How is this happening? The question flashed through her head for the umpteenth time in the last twenty four hours. How is this real?
She pressed a hand over her mouth and turned onto her back, taking deep, steady breaths in order to keep larger sobs at bay.
''Pervert!''
She can hear the crash of china from the dining room, and she inhales sharply, heart pounding, stomach twisting uneasily.
''Out! Get out!'' The voices are coming closer now, and two figures emerge from the dining room, and into the hall.
She's standing against the wall, staring at the whole display with wide eyes. ''Indy-'' she reaches a hand out to him.
''Marion, get back.'' Her father's voice is like steel - hard, full of murderous rage.
''No.'' She says, quietly, her eyes still fixed on Indy's. He's just standing there, suitcase in hand, battered fedora on his head.
''Marion, now.'' Abner growls, taking a step forward. Neither of them look at him.
''Marion.'' Indy says it softly, tenderly, the way he's said it so many times before. The tears welling in her eyes begin to fall onto her cheeks. He steps forward, ignoring Abner completely. ''Sweetheart.'' He cups her face, wiping the tears with his thumbs, and pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. ''I'll be back.'' It's barely more than a breath, for her ears only. He steps back, and Abner crosses the room, opening the door. Wind gusts through the hall, and the claps of thunder can be heard more clearly.
He looks back at her one last time, before stepping into the pouring rain. Abner slams the door behind him, and without sparing her a glance, marches to his study, shutting and locking the door behind him. She stands completely still for a few moments, before walking towards the stairs, going into her room and locking the door. The minute the door shuts she runs to the window, throwing it open, and pushing her head outside.
He's nowhere.
The tears are pouring down her face again, and she inhales sharp gulps of air. Just yesterday she'd been happy. Curled in her lover's arms, blissful. And then Abner had walked in. Twenty four hours later, here she was. And he wasn't back.
The small voice in the back of her head told her he never would be, but she ignored it, pulling the duvet closer around her, and curling into a ball. He said he would be back, and he would be. He would never abandon her. Not her Indy.
The house was silent, with only the occasional creak of wood disturbing the peace. The minutes ticked by like hours, and slowly, she felt herself getting fuzzier and fuzzier, her eyes sliding shut until she succumbed to sleep, curling back into his pillow.