Welcome to Gaia! ::

Linnea sat on her mattress cross-legged, sort of half-watching out the window at the colors in the sky. There was a blanket slung over her shoulders, even though it was June now and even someone from Daphne couldn't really make the argument that it was cold. Her tail poked out from under the blanket and switched every few seconds.

She heard Malcolm's footsteps coming up behind her and she hunched her shoulders down even farther, just for a single self-indulgent second, before she did what she knew was right and polite and got up, taking the blanket with her, to crack open the door and wave him inside.

She didn't know what to say, though, and so she was quiet for a long second. She didn't feel like explaining that the tears on her cheeks were because the colors of the meteor shower had made her think of the solar lights that would be strung across the streets back home, and that such a simple thing on top of everything else had set her off.

She really didn't know how to say that Chaos had shown her her father, again, but the others hadn't let her walk into oblivion, so now she was here, hiding under her covers when she wasn't at work.

"I'm not really hungry," she told him, "But you can come in."

She returned to her mattress and patted a space next to her. She did appreciate the way that Malcolm was always kind to her, and she even appreciated it a bit that here was here even now.

"I don't want to worry you," she said, softly, looking at the way he laid out the snack bags so that she knew just what kind of treats he had brought for her. It was sweet, the way that he was checking in on her.

She had the passing thought that it was something that Lars or some of her brothers might have done, but she bit her tongue when she found herself thinking that, hard enough that she could shove the thought back where it had come. She didn't reach for any of the food. She knew she should, to be polite if nothing else, but it had never quite stopped feeling like her stomach was full of rocks.

It was easier to eat at work, where she had to put on a brave face anyway, and where Cecil was trying to get her to try some new recipe. Here it was easier to fade away, to not think about things like that.

She didn't want to worry Malcolm, but she wouldn't have wanted to lie to him even if she could have. He was always nice to her, even if she was in an off mood.

"But I know I'm probably worrying you anyway. I'm having a hard time again," she admitted. "If you want to know, I can tell you about what happened."

Linnea nodded. Slowly, she reached over to pick up a small bag of chips, which she gently clutched for emotional support, but she did not open it. Not yet.

"There was another one of us with a Chaos infestation," she told him. "Daedalus. I went to help. I didn't see you or the others there, which is okay. If you stayed home, that might have been better. It was messy." Although, even if they had been there, maybe she wouldn't have seen them.

She'd been distracted. Her free hand curled tight around the blankets.

"Um. Illusions. I saw my father again. I understood that it was fake this time, but I also understood that I wouldn't really see him again if I was," she pressed her lips together, "Still alive?"

There it was, and she stared at the wall for a moment in the heaviness of it.

"I tried to throw myself into the Chaos. Someone had to pull me away from it, kicking and screaming."

She swallowed, and tried to move on. "And then I look at other people like myself. They're other people who shouldn't be alive. They're other people with nothing but grief. They have dead worlds, and cultures, and families. But they're not like me, either."

She looked straight at Malcolm, and her voice finally broke. "They're happy. They're strong. They've built lives for themselves here. Me?" It turned out that she still had tears left, and a fresh batch rolled down her face. "It's been years and I still can't fit in here."

Once she had said her piece, she didn't fight the tears, and a few more rounds of half-sobs made her chest shake. When Malcolm asked if he could hug her, though, a little smile broke through all that. She nodded.

She scooted close to him on the bed, pressing up shoulder to shoulder before she put an arm around his back. She curled her tail around him, a habit that she didn't get to do on Earth nearly as much as she would have liked.

"I like hugs," she murmured.

Malcolm asking if she was selfish had her immediately shake her head. Was she still angry at Muri for pulling her back? She didn't know. That feeling that the Chaos had awakened in her, that certain degree of hopelessness, ebbed and flowed day by day.

Now, it felt farther away.

"You're one of the kindest people to me," she told him. "I don't regret being able to spend more time with you."

"Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to do something like that," Linnea agreed. On her own, she didn't always know if she could muster the motivation to leave her room, but if Malcolm wanted to do something like that, she wouldn't say no to him. She did like sitting out in the sunshine. He knew that. "I don't know much about swimming," she said. It wasn't like there had been much chance to learn, with the limited water on Daphne carefully protected, "But I could try."

She didn't think he'd mind if she wasn't good at it. She let herself sit with that happy fantasy for a moment, enjoying the warmth of the way he was leaning on her, before reality sat back in.

"I am alone, though," she said.

She managed, somehow, not to sob again, but she stared very hard at the wall with those red-rimmed eyes, her tail beginning to twitch against the mattress. "Maybe there's a way for people to find certain kinds of loved ones, after a loss like what we've been through. Partners? That's easy." At least, she assumed it was from the way she'd seen Fang kissing that girl after they'd fought that spirit on his world. "But I don't want that."

She'd never wanted that, no matter how much better and easier everyone had assured her it would make her life.

"But family, it's," she squeezed her eyes shut, her voice crackling again. "It doesn't work," she swallowed, and there were the sobs. "And if you ask people, if you can call them something like that, they just-"

She cut off, unable to speak farther. He asked if there was anything he could do to help, but she knew that there was still that gap between them, that he was acting like her brother but that didn't mean he ever would be.