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More angst! -cackles- Featuring Isadora Quagmire! Who I love torturing! Hur hur hur. I signed up for her at fanfic100 so you might want to hit up my LJ after I get approved (if) or something. Anyway, so here it is. It's angsty and it's depressing. I mean it.

Isadora Quagmire, aged nineteen, walked slowly to the backyard of the VFD headquarters - her home, for the time being. It had been her home since she was fifteen, since Olaf had finally been captured. But not all had gone over well.

This time, Quigley was dead. He had died, really and truly. It wasn't another miracle save story from his first "death." All life eventually ended, Isadora knew that.

It didn't make her feel any better.

There was no gravestone. Too many losses had been taken in the fire; there was no reason for a stone for anybody.

Isadora walked out until she reached the towering tree, right in the middle of the lawn. She sat under it, feeling the cool grass under her bare feet, damp from last night's rain. Her skirt was getting wet, but she already looked terrible - who looked good at two in the morning? - so why care.

She looked out at the stars. What do you say to your dead brother? What do you say to any dead loved one?

Isadora inhaled. "Hi," she said. It might've been just her imagination, but she could've sworn one of the stars twinkled just a little brighter.

That had been easy. "Hi," she said again. Isadora decided to just let the words go.

"It's been crazy without you here, you know. After four years...you'd think we're...you know. Over it. You know. And, and, we should be, I guess. But it's hard, do you know that? Really, really hard. If I thought it was hard...you dead the first time...losing you again so soon...what are we supposed to do, Quigley? No one is the same. Everyone died. Kit Snicket is dead, you know. Her baby, too. They...they killed her baby. How could they? Do you know why people do that? Neither do I."

She sighed. "I'm rambling, you know. I'm nineteen years old, and I'm babbling like I'm seven. Do you remember, you and Duncan used to tease me about that? You were right. And do you know the new notebook you and Duncan gave me? Well, they burned that too. They just took it from me and burned it. Duncan's too. And they nearly killed Sunny. They had the knife right by her neck. Violet...Violet killed the person who was going to hurt Sunny. She grabbed the knife and killed him - the man hurting Sunny. You know, she never got over that. Violet won't even look at knives now."

Isadora realized, ashamedly, that she was crying. "We're all so different now. I want to go back, back when it was safe. When we were happy. But we can't go back, and...I'm sick of living, you know. I want to just quit living for a while and come back when it's all better."

"Is it possible to come back?"

The star's light faded, as if telling her no. It didn't matter. She had known the answer when she asked.

"Isadora?" A male voice. Deeper than it had been four years ago.

"Duncan?" When had they grown up? At the age of nineteen, she felt as sick and confused as she had when she was thirteen.

"Why are you out here?"

"Why are you?"

"It's not every day I wake up to go get some water and notice a nineteen year old girl in a nightgown crying under a tree."

"You knew it was me, then."

"Yeah. What were you doing?"

"Talking."

"To yourself."

"Yes." No.

"Next time you want to talk to yourself, do it in your room, okay? I hate coming out here to ask if you're all right. It's like an obligation."

"Then don't come out here, then."

Long silence. VFD had torn them apart. Isadora didn't really know Duncan anymore. Quigley...Quigley had known both of them. He had worked to keep them all together, fixing the ripped seam when it was beyond repair.

Finally, Duncan spoke. "Look, I didn't come out here to...upset you."

"Oh."

"Are you okay?" The answer had stopped mattering when Quigley died.

"I think. I guess."

"Okay."

More silence. Duncan, just go away.

"Good night, then," Duncan said, turning away to go back inside. Isadora secretly felt relieved. Everything was strained. She wasn't sure if she was friends with Violet, Klaus, or Sunny. She didn't know if she could be the same sister to Duncan.

Come back, you've been so far; come back, I hate the way we are.

Okay, finished. I know. I didn't want to kill anybody, but...yeah. I had to. I'm so sorry, guys. -hides-

- Emily