date: january 16, year 2 location: the hallway outside the infirmary availability: closed to @leiyulkeung
“Why didn’t you save me?”
The familiar voice echoes off the walls, following Stasya as they stumble down the hall. With every step, their head seems to pound a bit more violently. It begs them to return to the infirmary, to lie down. Their vision is so warped that they think they might be dreaming. They can’t even remember how they made it into the hallway. They vaguely recall waking up: the midday sun burning their eyes, sending pain ripping through their skull. They remember the chaos around them, the healers scurrying from one patient to the next, the person in the bed next to them staring off into the distance and murmuring a long-unspoken name. They remember Alexei’s voice.
“Why didn’t you save me?”
“Alexei!” Stasya shouts into the empty hallway. Briefly they see him, at the end of the hallway. He takes a step toward them and then he’s gone. They’re so overwhelmed by the sight of him that for a moment they forget their pain. The aching in their head disappears, their hands seem less shaky, their knees less weak. They use the fleeting strength to chase after the man they love. If they could just reach him, maybe they could explain why they’re here and he’s not. If they could just reach him. “Alexei?”
The space around them continues to spin, sending them stumbling into the wall behind them. They cling to it like its their only hope, still making every effort to search for Alexei. He was just here--wasn’t he? Please, they plead with the Saints, bring him back to me. They’re shuffling along at a slow pace now, nearly tripping over their own two feet, but the wall is there to save them. They stop for a moment to press their palms into their temples, a feeble attempt to stop the pain and the disarray of their mind. Pressing their back flat against the wall, they close their eyes and start to pray.
“It’s all your fault,” the voice is right in front of them now, “I’m dead because of you.”
Before realizing it, Stasya’s crying. The tears sting their sleep-deprived eyes, and do nothing to soothe the burning in their cheeks. “I wanted to save you,” their voice barely manages to make it past the lump in their throat. Allowing their knees to collapse from underneath them, they slide to the ground with no shred of grace. Their palms relocate to the center of their forehead, slamming into their head a few times. If this is a dream, Stasya wants to wake up. “I’m sorry. I love you, Alexei. I’m sorry. I love you. Alexei--I’m sorry.”
