starchilde_lost: (comic: i dont know about this)
[personal profile] starchilde_lost
[Dated June 17, 2011]

She should be going back. She knew there were people worried about her. But she couldn't. Going back would be like... admitting defeat. Admitting that she really was absolutely powerless here, powerless to keep her family safe, powerless to keep them together. Her entire life, all she ever wanted was to have her family whole and alive, together and happy. But she'd lost them, over and over. To the Sentinels, to the soldiers, to the Shi'ar assassins, to misguided mutants trying to make a point and absolutely failing. Leaving her alone.

Adding another stick to her campfire, she checked her meager food supplies. She'd done some hunting, some fishing, but she was running low and that meant she either had to go back or sneak in and pick up some supplies. Which, considering the number of professional thieves, ninjas and ne'er-do-wells she'd grown up with shouldn't be too hard. It would probably be a good idea to pick up some medical supplies, too. Apparently, some dinosaurs took it personally when you raided their lairs for eggs and while she only had a few scrapes and bruises so far, and moderately-nasty cut on her arm, she knew it was probably only a matter of time before something got lucky and took a bite out of her.

She really should be going back.

But instead she pushed the thought away and poked at the fire, adjusting the coals nearer to the stick she'd used to split her dinner on. It was just a lizard she'd caught, but it would be done soon, she'd eat, maybe indulge herself in a late-night swim before trying to sleep again. It was hard, the nightmares had come back, waking her on the edge of screaming, hunting her with the images of her failures. Watching the flickering firelight in the darkness, she slowly realized that she hadn't been this close to completely un-hinged since right after her grandparents had been murdered. No wonder she was more comfortable out in the wilderness, where she didn't run the risk of seeing anyone else get hurt, where she could tell herself that she wasn't there. That she couldn't do anything. She could let herself off the hook.

She could be a coward.

She kicked the fire, sending coals scattering into the darkness as she started to cry. Why was this always so hard?
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Rachel Grey

June 2014

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