Hedonist

The mongrel, a mixture of the ugliest shades of browns and reds, limped over to her and nuzzled her calf. She paused to scratch it under the ears before going back to cleaning (Rachel would have called it ruining a perfectly good pair of jeans) the barn.

She loved doing this, all alone in the place where so much of her life had been centered around, both before and after. Other people dropped by on occasion of course; her Dad, bringing in the latest causality. Her Mom, alternatively checking up on her or restocking the medical supplies. Tobias, when he felt in dire need of human companionship. Ax, for reasons of his own, mostly food and books. (At times like this though, it was just her. She suspected they were avoiding work.)

The barn so was much more than just her sanctum, but in moments like this, it was comforting to think of it that way.

She backed the last shovelful of dirt into the corner, stripped off her rubber gloves and sat down on a convenient haystack. It was evening, there were no missions at the moment, and for once, she wasn't backed up on homework. The mongrel limped over determinately, wagging it's tail until she scratched under it's ear again. Around her, birds shreiked or slept, depending on their level of sedation. Tiny mammals curled around themselves, their bodies moving in rhythm to their breathing.

Somewhere outside, an owl hooted softly.

She shivered. This was her home. This was her world. Terror and beauty rolled into one, farce and tragedy moving along so close to each other, the lines between them ceased to exist. And amidst that, all the while, she thought about things (people, really); it was in her nature. Marco analyzed plot, she analyzed personalities. And both of them were so good at it, she sometimes wondered higher powers were watching over this whole madness. She knew of at least two.

She thought about their personalities too, and whatever she'd come up with had been disturbing. Each of them had lines drawn, and each of them came closer and closer to crossing them each day. She worried about what would happen towards the end (if there ever was an end), how they'd ever go back to living. Easy enough to imagine if they lost, of course; but if they won...

To tell the truth, neither scenario looked good. Jake would be judging himself, Tobias would still be torn, Ax and Marco would be bored, and Rachel...

She shivered, her solace interuppted.

Eventually, something would happen. Eventually, the fight would end for better or for worse. Eventually, all of them would have to face what they were (or what they could be) inside.

She did that now. Every day for her was a constant battle between what was over the line and what was not. She fought, she cried. For each soul she killed. She made sure of that, because then when she would go up against judgement with herself in the end, win or lose, she would be in peace.

The mongrel nudged her again, displeased at being ignored. She smiled at it and went back to it's ears.