She couldn’t get their faces out of her head; the other David, Cary and Kerry all lifeless, drained of everything that made them so wonderfully them. The different flickers and fires, all…ash. Like he had said. Dropped with the point of a finger. A touch. As if she weren’t already paranoid about skin on skin contact, let’s add that lovely sight on top of things.
The reassurances, even the touch – gentle and not overbearing. Not death, but life – brought her back and had her looking around, really looking around. They were back home, and things looked normal. But when was normal? When was now, exactly? Her head turned back to David, to ask that very question, and saw just how tired he looked. Beyond tired, exhausted. She probably looked the same, but it was her turn to play insomniac. For now, for him to get some rest, she’d take the role. She took the journal, free hand going to check her belt to make sure Kerry’s offering was still there too. “I’ll take it to him.” Promised, “I have questions anyway.”
“But first, bed.” Standing back uncertainly, Syd watched to make sure that he wasn’t actually going to pass out the distance between here and there, ready to catch and steady him if he did. Once she was satisfied in that, Cary’s journal was hugged closely to her chest, giving off the image of a schoolgirl clinging on to her textbooks. “Thank you. For saving me.” She glanced over, a small smile offered. “Again.” She knew damn well that even if he was panicked, it was quick thinking to zap themselves out of there. Syd also knew that she hadn’t particularly been thinking at all.
The halls of Summerland were clean, warm and safe and without a bloodstain or darkened spot along it. And now, armed with help and foreknowledge, she hoped to keep it that way. When they reached David’s room, she peered in curiously. “It feels like ages ago now.” Weird.