Uhm... Right.

Tia's not doing so well, and it's late enough that we haven't been able to find a clinic open nearby. We're going to the ER at the nearest hospital to get some things checked on. Everything should be fine. This is going to be hell on our funds, but it's worth it to try and keep everyone healthy. Right? Right. We'll manage. Definitely.

... Stupid birthday. Stupid shadows. Go away. Go away. Go away.




This is my fault.
I... We'll be fine.

Happy New Year

They say to do the thing on New Years that you want to do for the rest of the year.  I refuse to regret this.

 We can do no great things; only small things with great love... Let's make this year one worth living, and hold onto the kind of courage that is not all-encompassing, but which gets you along from minute to minute.

Found and Lost

We found her.
Approximately an hour after that post went up this morning, I recieved an email from someone I've been talking to a bit over the last month or so. No name's given, ever. I have my suspicions, though. And I'm not overly happy with where those suspicions lead.

Shaun's been keeping me steady and focused. I feel like I'd have been flying in five directions at once if not for his getting me to focus better. It wasn't exactly panic. Something else. A mixture of manic energy and depressive anxiety, oscillating wildly. In all of this, this is the deepest anger and fear I have felt. For Tia. Maybe caring too much is a weakness, but if it is, I don't want that level of strength.

Anyway, I recieved an email with a street address in it. Nothing more, nothing less. The location was outside of the range Shaun and I had been searchign the last few days. There was some understandable supiscion, of course. I mean, obvious trap, right? Right? It was the only lead we'd gotten, though. I left some stuff behind at the hotel, but we moved into gear. We took a taxi from the hotel, and had the driver drop us off a few blocks from the location. Not an unreasonable precaution, I think. We stashed a few things and then went to check out the location.

Sure enough, the truck was parked outside. Is it bad that I'm glad that my truck wasn't trashed? I mean, I know it's selfish, but having a reliable vehicle is a plus.

The building seemed abandoned, but it did have power. That much was obvious. We made our way inside, and started searching. There was a basement apartment. Blake was there.

There was blood in the room. A good bit of it, too. The blood led off to the bathroom, where the shower was running. I was honestly almost afraid to go in, but I had to find Tia. No matter her state. She should have had to. She was there, huddled under the ice-cold spray, sobbing. We got her out and dried off, bundling her up against the cold. She was shaking so hard. I want to stop that pain.

Blake is dead. Shot with my revolver that he'd apparently taken from the truck. Believe me, I checked. I had to get the keys off of him, after all. He was dead when we got there. Probably happened not long before that post went up this morning. Tia's not talking.

That's when things went even more to pot for a little bit there.

Twisting, warping. Tearing. He was there. Standing over Blake. I called for Shaun to get Tia out. Maybe it's more accurate to say shouted? Cried? I followed, but it took a moment to get my legs to work properly. There are colors still. Colors and shadows and awareness. Blank spots that I wasn't even aware of before. Funny, that. This isn't about me, though. Can't focus on that right now.

Blake's gone.

We've been driving since then, and have finally stopped. Maybe we should keep driving, but Tia's not in the best way. I don't think there's anything physically serious, but... yeah. She's not talking about what happened. She's shocky, which obviously, I don't blame her for.

Blake was the most stable of the three of us, which is, of course, why he just had to fall. And possibly why he fell so hard. I don't want to know the extent of what happened in that little basement apartment, but on some level, I'm going to need to. Eventually. Comunication is invaluable. I'm hoping we can get her talking about at least normal stuff soon.

We have to figure out what to tell his family.

We'll manage. We have to.
We have to heal. Somehow.

Guess who showed up?

Shaun met up with us today. I've been talking to him a bit, and since he was apparently getting restless at Bondie's I figured I'd invite him to spend Christmas and maybe a little time after with us. I didn't want him spending the holidays streeting it, especially this far north, so yeah. Here we are. It's nice to see him again, and Tia definitely agrees.

I'm getting a few things ready for tomorrow. It's been a while since I've had much to look forward to on Christmas. Crossing my fingers that I can allow myself to now, even with everything.

To Conclude

A genius with electronics had arrived at Hope when I was looking through the Helikite, whose name I later found was Alex, one of Elaine's rescues. He's a real wiz though. Found a camera on the kite, and it would've taken me twice as much time to decode all that nonsense that was on it. Little thing tried to crash my built like a solid block of concrete laptop.

That was cute.

Not to worry though, we managed to figure out the files and see what all was captured. It was interesting to unlock and everything, but I really didn't care for what we found on it. And I don't think that needs much more clarification.

It's in Elaine's hands, and she's capable enough to take care of it. So we're going back to normal socializing and such here for a while.

Tia's invaded Lissie's for a bit, after Marie's post this morning she wasn't feeling so hot. I'm going back to working from home now and finishing this program I had on hold whilst I finished the camera project.

So that's pretty much it.

Oh, and tomorrow Tia and I have 3 years behind us. So there's something special I have planned. Should be fun.

Learning

It's been an interesting few days, I suppose. Tia already linked to what happened with Michael, of course. I've been painting a bit again.  Got rid of the one I finished, though.... Cut it up and burned it in the back yard. Funny how I feel the need to ruin the outcome of fifteen hours or more locked away in my room. Somethings just don't need to be seen, though.

Now that my side's better, I've started working on self-defense with Tia a bit again. It's nice, and I'm picking things up reasonably. It's just a matter of getting past certain other issues.

Speaking of issues, I should really try to be a bit more social around here, but to be honest, being around this many people at once can make me nervous.

Arrival

Well, we got to Hope okay today, around two or three in the afternoon. It was nice to finally meet Elaine in person, with as much as we've been talking. Of course, I got wrangled into not helping with any of the bags, but I'm honestly trying to behave well enough. We also met Lucas and Josh in passing, and they seem really nice. If I can get up the nerve to talk to them. I'll have to ask them their favorite colors if I do. I'm in a crocheting mood... Well, to be honest, I'm just in a generally restless mood. I'm usually a better injured person than this. Usually.

Although, it's the saddest, funniest thing. We nearly forgot that today is Tia's birthday! Blake, of course remembered. Don't you just want to pinch his cheeks? But seriously, man. Good on you. It's been hectic recently. Anyway, we ended up getting set up in our rooms. (It's kind of nice to have a room of my own again) A litte while later, Tia, Blake, Elaine and I took over the kitchen to make a delicious cake, no lie.

There was much silliness to be had, and to be quite honest, despite the things going on in my head still and the stitches, this is the best I've felt in weeks. I can only hope for the best right now.

Time to Vomit?

There isn't any.


Sweet mother of Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell just fell on my doorstep? What the hell just developed in this crazy life I share? What the fuck did we just invite into our small, travelling troupe? What. The. Fuck?


Maybe I should step back and tell a story here. If I could tell a complete story, I would. But I can't right now. I don't have all the motherfucking details. Here: I'll paint my half of the picture for you.


Lis has been insisting that Blake and I have some "us" time. We've all been in the same room for the past however long now and she's been feeling like she's imposing (she's not, but it's how she feels) so she insists she goes out alone and she insists that she'll be okay. It's only after she's completely convinced me she'll be okay that we let her go out and do her own thing. That was about 5 hours ago. She left, and on her end of the picture, I imagine she went to a quaint little cafe or quiet little bookstore or peaceful little deli. That's to her taste. I don't actually know because she's practically cata-fucking-tonic. But she'd enjoy that sort of thing, so that's what I imagine her intent was tonight.


On our end of the picture, we have a nice little romantic in the hotel picnic with candlelight and wine and cheap sushi we bought from the grocery, and we're happy for the moment if only because we're blissfully unaware. So things are turning into a nice night between Blake and I, and because we were assured that Lissie would be okay, we let go of the thoughts that might hold us back.


And let me be honest. We weren't holding back. It's been a long time. I'm sure you get the idea and I'm sure I don't need to go into detail. So here we are in the hotel room, highly distracted, when there's a loud THUMP at the door, and I can't be too sure it's our door, but it's a really loud thump. I'm not going to take any chances.


So I find the nearest shirt available, throw it on and open the door to find a slumped Lis falling against my bare legs. And she's bloody. She's bloody and I can barely hear her rasp an "I'm sorry," - that's so Lis - apologizing when she's bleeding out on the floor. Well, there goes us time. I'm not even thinking about it when I'm dragging Lis into the bathroom and fetching the first aid/sewing kit. Nope. I see a nice gash there on her rib cage, right side, nice and deep. It's not bleeding too bad at this point, but my guess is because she doesn't have much blood left in her.


Clean cloth for the wound? Check. Have Blake run for ice for numbing? Check (even if she's not responding to much anyway). Foreign materials removed from the wound? My least favorite part, and check. Sanitized needles? Check. Thread? Check. 14 stitches later the wound looks pretty clean. Daddy taught me well. With Blake's help we manage to get her into her bed and between the two of us we get some fluid in her. It's easier said then done. And now we can only hope she wakes up.


A note for when Lis wakes up, because she's going to wake up: make sure the girl eats more (and keeps more down). She's even skinnier shirtless than I thought she'd be. It's worrisome.


On another note, it seems that Crispy will no longer be an issue, view Case 1C. Apparently we're not a threat. That's a good sign. For now, I'll take it. I figured Crispy was the culprit, but I wasn't exactly thinking about it when I was stitching Lis up. I don't like this road we're on. Not one bloody bit.

Roll on, highway

I see Blake started to write up a post on what Tia saw yesterday, but he's busy comforting her again now that we've stopped again. She's honestly not saying much about it, and neither of us is pushing her. Sometimes you just... know, though. Does that make sense? Seeing something like that as a nearly tangible thing. Maybe it's just another dream.

The same jerk who's been dogging us since Alabama, watching, waiting, trying to push buttons. The same one from before. Shot him in the face with the flare gun. Stabbed in the face with the crochet hook. Not sure how I managed that. On to more important things, though.

He decided to start screwing with the hotel guests, apparently. Too much of a coward or at least too much of an ass to come at us directly. Not that I'll complain about that on some levels. You know, other than pulling more people who have no tie to this in to die. Tia saw him in the parking lot with a young woman, the skin on her her arms sliced up into little symbols, her hair hacked off to expose her scalp, dragging her away... Tia cut off there, but I know. I know what she saw. I see it. How?

Another town, another hotel. So tired of this... Need to give the lovebirds some time soon. Even if it's stupid. Someone needs to have something good right now. When it rains, it pours, and cliche little  things like that. I can't do much of anything for anyone else at the moment other than them... I can only hope it counts for something in the long run.

Things I have learned today

1. Blake has awesome taste in music. (Mine's better, though)
2. Marie Sinclair is still in a coma (Called her parents)
3. There are people who give a damn about me. (Surprise, surprise. No, seriously. I'm honestly surprised)
4. August St. Claire makes awesome pancakes and is beyond nice to talk to. (Also, even terribly mature teens make me feel old.)

Whose Awesome? I am.

So I apparently put Lissie in an ice cream coma. She slept for like the past 4 hours. I win. At life.