It's the day after. Andrei is at home and Fire is out, only the very faintest bruises still lingering on her, even if the cold stays to some degree. Offsetting this, though, is the knowledge that she has won a battle, and it's enough to make her hold her head high and smile ( Read more... )

It's a while later that she returns to the apartment. A long while ( Read more... )

Fire's finally back in her own body, and she's never before been so glad of it. Especially now that she's got things to do - the conversation with Jack is still weighing on her mind, albeit in a good way.

So once she's back home and in her apartment she picks up the phone to dial Andrei's number, whistling under her breath.

Oh yeah. Someone's in a ( Read more... )

Charlie and Bev are both gone when she wakes up, curled into a hotel bed, hands half-healed and the sensation of just having had her head run through a blender reduced to a dull ache. Damn that fucking room ( Read more... )

It was a single red rose, date and time tied onto the stem. Slipped into her mailbox and that was a pleasant surprise, really, and a welcome one (she won't tell him, but she saved the rose and it's in a vase on the table, now, shedding petals).

So she got herself dressed up and, just for him, twisted her hair up into an elegant knot. It took nearly ( Read more... )

So Fire's not having the greatest night of her life. She was out for most of it, at a fire rampaging through an abandoned house, until the rain came softly and quickly began to drench everything in sight. After catching a cab back the apartment, she discovered that she'd somehow managed to lose her key, and while she could always burn through the ( Read more... )

She's hurt Jack.

She's hurt him and she knows this, tried to take his eyes out and tried to tell herself that it was Frost and he deserved it but it was Jack all along, wasn't it? At least partly. And the body was his always, she knew that, and she's not sure what she's done except that everything was going so well and now it's not. Now, she's not ( Read more... )

She stalks out of the door and onto the street, trailing the scent of smoke. Pedestrians sniff the air and look around in confusion, but Fire doesn't care, doesn't even bother hiding the fact that she's more angry (scared) then she's been in a while.

She's passing a row of parked cars when she just can't handle it anymore. She turns, glares at an ( Read more... )

She is
no one. none. she is nothing
nothingness, (mother please stop it please)
She is nothing. She is
Not There
(father?)
skittershine of eyes in the dark
dark
darkness, nothingness, absence of light that
which is not there; nonexistent
she is
There, in the black
far-out and they say you lose your mind if you see it
(mother stop it stop it STOP IT
mother?)
She ( Read more... )

This is unbearable.

Fire can deal with it for a day or so, can tolerate it if she doesn't think about it and doesn't try anything. But at times, it's utterly unbearable, to the point where she wants to scream and scream and scream. Before now, she hasn't.

Now she has a room.

Now, she can call the fire to her when she wants, call it into being and try ( Read more... )