[GP] All we can do is learn to swim

[st_oriedqueen]

Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim. - Vicki Harrison

"You're sure?" Regina already knew the answer but demanding that Sam tell her what she already knew satisfied something petty in her. Or maybe just something hurt that hoped he'd have a different answer than her locator spell had already provided.

"Yeah." Sam half-rolled his eyes at her as he leaned across the pink bar counter to grab bottles of beer from the Silver Bar ice bin -- probably the results of Rebekah's last work-effort at the Inn -- for himself and his newly arrived companion.

Briefly, Regina considered burning a hole in the seat of his jeans, but it wouldn't bring Rebekah or any of the absent ones back. Instead, she took refuge in straightening her A-line and walking around the stylish counter Sam lay across like he was surfing the waves of grief. She took down a bottle of pointlessly pricey champagne, and then found the precise cut-crystal glasses Rebekah and Miss Fisher had preferred for their afternoon indulgences. She poured herself a glass and one for the person who dared her openly bitter expression.

"So who all are we missing?" they both said at once, glared at each other and sighed. They both knew the answers, in their own way and for their own reasons. And neither of them wanted to say.

Rebekah Mikaelson. Henry Winchester. Jack Robinson. Phryne Fisher. Dorothy Williams. Angua von Uberwald. Jaime Vegas. Harry Dresden. Lydia Martin. Raleigh Becket. Yasmeen. Joanna Beauchamp. Constance Bonacieux D'Artagnan. Lindsey McDonald.

"Grief is like the ocean," Sam clearly quoted from some fucking where, and Regina tuned him out until he added, "All we can do is learn to swim. Rebekah told me that."

Now Regina rolled her eyes; they weren't friends. "Shut up, Sam."

Comments

[st_artrekodo]

"At least," said Odo pensively, "it would offer some explanation. Including to why some would come and go, and the potential tests and challenges the temporary doors provide. The remaining question, of course, would be that if someone is powerful enough to create or use this pocket dimension, and to bring here such a league of extraordinary ladies and gentlemen, what use would they have with comparatively limited beings such as ourselves?"

[st_alksthroughwalls]

"My experience of 'infinitely powerful' beings is that they're lazy, bored, or have long since forgotten how to do anything as simple as saving a planet," Kitty replied wryly. "The Asgardians got into fights with each other and then involved us as proxies."

[st_artrekodo]

"You're right. The Q in my universe are truly omnipotent, yet they seem much more interested in squabbling among themselves and pestering some people than actually do anything helpful. What a waste. Then again, maybe that when you're powerful enough, everything that is not you is of little relevance. But I still won't bend to their whims, as long as I have some degree of free will."

[st_alksthroughwalls]

"It's not a terribly helpful thought, though. We're still stuck here waiting for whatever it is they want us to do, if we assume that's right."

Kitty frowned at the intrusive thought that if they did figure out how to leave, she'd lose Wyatt. Maybe, she argued back. Maybe. And she wasn't about to let this place Stockholm her.

[st_artrekodo]

"And we're back to the depressing thoughts, the circle is complete. Only this time, I'm depressed as well. Good job..." he winked at Kitty, with a pretty strange result given his face, but the meaning was still there.

[st_alksthroughwalls]

The wink was such a strange expression, but it wasn't without a certain charm. She smiled just a little. "Sorry about that."