Love's no good but it sure beats the hurt

[madgiganticfeelings]

[That was... Christine can only call it the most horrible thing she's seen so far, with that familiar dread that says something worse may come. Four people have died. Four friends Christine had trusted in and relied upon. And four more people she cares about have turned into memories and painful reminders of her failure to do anything meaningful here.

And Christine wallows in that. God, does she wallow. But she also knows that those painful ghosts of the people she loved relied on her to keep getting back up when the world knocked her down. And she has to keep going, if only to honour there memories.

The note she slides under each person's door is very simple, the bright orange gel pen somehow seeming duller in the wake of mourning:]

Food is in the dining hall.
Please come have something, or I'll track you down in an hour and force feed you.
If there's anything at all you need, please come talk to me. We shouldn't have to suffer alone.
-Christine

[There's a few dishes Christine knows how to make: lo mein and beef stew, some simple sandwiches as well. There are almond cookies after the more filling foods are prepared.

Off to the side is a plate with a few dumplings and... what looks like mashed turnips? An odd combination, but they were Angus' favourite.

And Christine is true to her word. If you don't come in an hour, she'll find you. In fact, she makes rounds around the opera house pretty much every hour, checking each room, and... maybe singing softly to herself as she goes.]

O god,
I can't stay, I won't stay for things left unseen
I can't stay, I won't stay, this end has no means
I can't stay, I won't stay, you were just a dream
A sweet sweet dream
You were a dream
But not my dream...

[Speaking of dreams, someone should convince her to go to bed.]

Comments

[37773972]

[Stephen...manages a soft laugh, despite himself.]

You can say that again.

[garbageface]

[ Santana finally tears her gaze away from her food, now tipping her head back, half-shouting at the ceiling: ]

And fuck you, Phantom!

[ That. Helped a little. She's finally able to look at Stephen, then back to her food. ]

You want this? I'm not hungry, I'm just here so that nobody chases me down claiming that "soup is the best medicine" or whatever.

[37773972]

[Well, that, he'll just kind of tilt his head at, but- whatever helps. Nonetheless...]

Do me a favor and take a bite of it, at least? I know you're not hungry, but then I can tell people I saw you eating.

[garbageface]

[ Santana stares at Stephen for a while, and then very tentatively eats about half of a now-cold stewed carrot. This might be the first time since waking up in the opera house that Santana has followed directions! ]

There. You better eat, too. If you get all tired and get an infection, I'm gonna be pissed.

[ she didn't bandage you up just to go throw away all her hard work, stephen! ]

[37773972]

[Good girl. Steven gives her a smile and a nod.] I had some of the lo mein. And I'm going to bed early- no way I'm ruining your hard work.

[...]

You did really good, Santana. You know that, right?

[garbageface]

[ Santana nods once. Stephen's plan meets her exacting standards. But then he says she did good, and Santana, at first, doesn't know how to respond. Instead, she looks back at Stephen, plainly confused. For all her dramatics, Santana doesn't actually think that highly of herself, and is surprised that Stephen would say something like that, now. ]

No, you and the others actually figured stuff out. I -- I nearly voted for the wrong person.

[37773972]

And Mephisto tried to cover for her. [And would have killed them all if they'd believed him.] Nothing that happened in there was easy- but I'm not just talking about in there.

[garbageface]

[ Santana can't blame Mephisto for that. She'd do the same, if it were Brittany confessing to murder. Some people are important. Some people matter more.

Does he mean? The glass? ]

Yeah, well. I wasn't about to cry like a baby and let you bleed all over the place and die, or whatever. Cafe would be totally unusable if there were bodies in it.

[ That's not strictly true, but for Santana, it's much, much easier to say than "I was worried about you." ]

[37773972]

I still appreciate it. Along with everything else.

[...his smile falters.]

...I'm still going to need someone to help me get back in to shape. Especially with...[He hefts his arms. Physical rehabilitation.] I'm...not looking for a replacement. [For Riley.] But if you're willing...

[garbageface]

[ Santana takes one look at Stephen’s arms and sighs, in sympathy and commiseration. ]

Yeah, you sure will. [ A beat. ] Alright. I’m not — [ Santana chokes on the name, and instead says: ]

I’ll make you work for it, you know.

[37773972]

I know. [Both that she's not Riley- and that she'll make him work for it.] We can start on Monday, if you're up for it?