Renee / Ry - Cataclysm part I - PG-13

[seminalsemiotic.livejournal.com]

Renee was late. She was never late. It just didn't happen. She was like clockwork, damn it. And it couldn't just be an aberration, either. Not now. It had been a week since she was due.

It could only mean one thing. But she still had to know for sure.

She rose from her bed and poked her head out of her room. It was only nine in the evening. Nobody would question her leaving the house. But still she felt as though she were doing something wrong. As though there were some sort of betrayal of trust involved here. She felt dirty.

As quietly as she could, she made her way down the stairs and out the front door. She could hear Lizzie talking on the phone in her room, and her father pottering about in the study. Mother was nowhere to be seen, probably out on the town as always. Renee hoped she wouldn't run into her.

There was a twenty-four hour shop not far from here. They would have what she wanted.

* * *


"Renee?" her father called as she returned to the house half an hour later.

"Oui?" she returned, her heart leaping in her chest. Not now. Leave me alone!

"Your friend Scarlett stopped by, but I didn't know when you would be home, so I told her you would call her later."

"Oui," she acknowledged, and made her way upstairs without another word.

* * *


Two pregnancy tests sat before her on the bathroom counter. Both of them positive. Now, she was sure.

Marcel put a little bit of himself into every magickal operation he performed...

No shit. That "little bit of himself" was now growing into a child inside of her. She felt so hollow, as if all that mattered and gave the world substance had died. As if she would never again take delight in anything in this mortal coil.

As an insurance against his murder...

No. No no no. He couldn't have... could he? But even as the thought occurred to her, she felt the stirring within her womb, and she knew it to be true.

This wasn't just Marcel's child she was carrying. It was Marcel himself. His final insurance against death, to create a child and have some hopelessly indebted girl bring it into the world for him.

But Renee knew. She knew what he had done. And she wasn't about to let him win. There were ways around this. She had power, she knew it. She had brought about his death once, the curse that had focused Deirdre's wrath upon him. She could do it again.

She grabbed the pregnancy tests and headed back into her room, discarding them under the bed where they wouldn't be found until she could dispose of them properly.

Necessity compelled her to action, and she could explain this to no one. But there was one thing that had to be said, and only one person she could say it to...


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[info]epithet_
2006-04-02 11:12 pm UTC (link) DeleteFreezeUnscreen
(Can you feel that?)
(Oh shit)

Ry read the words on his screen before him on the newly updated page. Well, he had to hand it to the girl; she had good timing - just when he'd almost been bored enough to put away his computer for the day and go busking for some fresh air, Renee put something up for him to do. Well, read anyway.

Except, this was nothing new. He'd read it before, she'd written it before; and he told her so.

'Down With the Sickness' continued to blare out at him from his computer.

Except... ages later, when she must still have been online and receiving email notification, there was no reply. And the add on at the end bothered him for some reason he could not fathom. Renee had said some outlandish things before, but this... it sounded far out of the normal even for Renee. Far away from a person who had all but recreated in him a basic belief that there was something out there that must be greater than any one man - a Creator in all things and some things.

"God Renee, don't do anything stupid," he guttered under his breath. But what more could he do from here?

As he stood up to leave the room for some headspace from the impeding feeling of dred, lyrics of the song haunted him on his way.


Don't do it again
I'll be a good boy
I'll be a good boy, I promise

Don't do it! You're hurting me Oh-oohh!
Why did you have to be such a bitch?
Why don't you,

FUCK YOU!!!
I don't need this shit
You stupid sadistic abusive fucking WHORE

Renee / Ry - Cataclysm part I - PG-13

[seminalsemiotic.livejournal.com]

Renee was late. She was never late. It just didn't happen. She was like clockwork, damn it. And it couldn't just be an aberration, either. Not now. It had been a week since she was due.

It could only mean one thing. But she still had to know for sure.

She rose from her bed and poked her head out of her room. It was only nine in the evening. Nobody would question her leaving the house. But still she felt as though she were doing something wrong. As though there were some sort of betrayal of trust involved here. She felt dirty.

As quietly as she could, she made her way down the stairs and out the front door. She could hear Lizzie talking on the phone in her room, and her father pottering about in the study. Mother was nowhere to be seen, probably out on the town as always. Renee hoped she wouldn't run into her.

There was a twenty-four hour shop not far from here. They would have what she wanted.

* * *


"Renee?" her father called as she returned to the house half an hour later.

"Oui?" she returned, her heart leaping in her chest. Not now. Leave me alone!

"Your friend Scarlett stopped by, but I didn't know when you would be home, so I told her you would call her later."

"Oui," she acknowledged, and made her way upstairs without another word.

* * *


Two pregnancy tests sat before her on the bathroom counter. Both of them positive. Now, she was sure.

Marcel put a little bit of himself into every magickal operation he performed...

No shit. That "little bit of himself" was now growing into a child inside of her. She felt so hollow, as if all that mattered and gave the world substance had died. As if she would never again take delight in anything in this mortal coil.

As an insurance against his murder...

No. No no no. He couldn't have... could he? But even as the thought occurred to her, she felt the stirring within her womb, and she knew it to be true.

This wasn't just Marcel's child she was carrying. It was Marcel himself. His final insurance against death, to create a child and have some hopelessly indebted girl bring it into the world for him.

But Renee knew. She knew what he had done. And she wasn't about to let him win. There were ways around this. She had power, she knew it. She had brought about his death once, the curse that had focused Deirdre's wrath upon him. She could do it again.

She grabbed the pregnancy tests and headed back into her room, discarding them under the bed where they wouldn't be found until she could dispose of them properly.

Necessity compelled her to action, and she could explain this to no one. But there was one thing that had to be said, and only one person she could say it to...


(Post a new comment)

[info]epithet_
2006-04-02 11:12 pm UTC (link) DeleteFreezeUnscreen
(Can you feel that?)
(Oh shit)

Ry read the words on his screen before him on the newly updated page. Well, he had to hand it to the girl; she had good timing - just when he'd almost been bored enough to put away his computer for the day and go busking for some fresh air, Renee put something up for him to do. Well, read anyway.

Except, this was nothing new. He'd read it before, she'd written it before; and he told her so.

'Down With the Sickness' continued to blare out at him from his computer.

Except... ages later, when she must still have been online and receiving email notification, there was no reply. And the add on at the end bothered him for some reason he could not fathom. Renee had said some outlandish things before, but this... it sounded far out of the normal even for Renee. Far away from a person who had all but recreated in him a basic belief that there was something out there that must be greater than any one man - a Creator in all things and some things.

"God Renee, don't do anything stupid," he guttered under his breath. But what more could he do from here?

As he stood up to leave the room for some headspace from the impeding feeling of dred, lyrics of the song haunted him on his way.


Don't do it again
I'll be a good boy
I'll be a good boy, I promise

Don't do it! You're hurting me Oh-oohh!
Why did you have to be such a bitch?
Why don't you,

FUCK YOU!!!
I don't need this shit
You stupid sadistic abusive fucking WHORE

Renee - Cataclysm part II - R

[seminalsemiotic.livejournal.com]

Renee clicked "update journal", and that was that. There was nothing more to be said.

She rose and set about her room, packing magickal supplies into her shoulder bag. She didn't need too much for this, but these weren't items she could get away with carrying about openly. This time, though, she supposed she would have to at least acknowledge her father as she left. Especially since she hadn't actually called Scarlett like she was supposed to.

"I am going out!" she called, not even stopping as she made her way out the door. Her father called out something in response, but it didn't sound important.

What was important was that she made her way somewhere that wasn't here. Somewhere with a connection to Nature, to Power.

Perhaps... Regent's Park.

* * *


At this time of night, Regent's Park was practically deserted. There would be some questionable types about, Renee knew, but she trusted in the dark gods to protect her. She was going to need their power for this.

She chose a shadowy area far from the beaten path, beneath a tree that seemed to strive for the Heavens. Its strong roots, meanwhile, drove deep into the ground. Perfect. A conduit between Heaven and Earth.

It was time.

She removed the knife from her bag and placed it on the ground before her. That would come later. Crystals to symbolise each of the elements - Fire in the north, Air in the east, Earth in the south, Water in the west. These were all the paraphernalia she would need. The rest was down to her own invocation.

And what an invocation it would be, the most ambitious she had ever attempted. Forget Chaos Magick, this was the real thing. But if Deirdre could harness that power... so could she.

Invulnerability would be hers.

"Isis... Osiris... Horus... Who together are called IOH, I summon thee!" she began. The tree stirred in the wind. A good sign.

"IOH, I beg your protection, a humble servant of your almighty will." Yes. IOH would know the evil wrought upon her. It was IOH's will that she be free of it, she was sure.

"IOH... bless your humble servant with the power of invulnerability, that the wrath of neither man nor steel shall do me harm!"

The wind blew stronger now, and Renee could feel the power coursing through her veins. It was working! She would only need it for a few moments, she didn't even need to sustain it. She should have known. Of course it was working! Now, for the second part of the operation...

* * *


Bill Collins was late home from work that evening, and had decided to take a shortcut through the darker areas of Regents Park. Most people would have thought it a stupid thing to do, but he wasn't worried. Who was going to bother a plain-looking, middle-aged man in a cheap, blue-collar suit?

He was quite lost in his own mundane thoughts when he heard the chanting. His curiosity piqued, he made his way over to a bush, hiding behind it. Just beyond, standing beneath a tree, a young, beautiful girl was picking up a knife. What was she doing? From her dark clothing and make-up, he figured that she was maybe one of those Goths doing some sort of Satanic ritual. Well, each to their own. The girl was bloody hot, and whatever she was doing was fascinating to watch. He settled down onto his haunches and observed.

* * *


The knife pulsed and vibrated in Renee's hand. Good. It trembled with her power. So it should.

Renee was trembling too. Even with IOH coursing through her, what she was about to do evoked enormous fear in her. She was about to call upon the darkest of the dark. Evil incarnate.

"Sebekh," she intoned, the grotesque name leaving a foul taste in her mouth. "Devourer of Children, hear me now! Take this child growing in my womb, and deliver it unto Hell!"

She could hear Sebekh's roar. He was approaching! There wasn't much time. She would have to sate him now!

"Sebekh, guide my knife!" The Underworld awaits, Marcel.

"IOH protect me..."

And with those final words, she drove the knife deep into her womb.

* * *


"Oh shit!" The young man dashed out from his place behind the bushes, skidding to a halt by the girl's twitching body. Blood was beginning to seep out of the wound, winding its way past the hilt of the knife. The wound was deep, so very deep.

Billy fumbled in his pocket for his mobile phone, his shaking hands struggling to dial 999 as he extracted it. He finally managed it though, and was able to give the ambulance service loose directions to this secluded area of Regent's Park...

* * *


As the knife bit into her, the world snapped back into focus with stunning clarity. The gods were gone. No... not just gone. They were never there to begin with.

It was all so very clear to her now. She had been living a lie. There was nothing out there. She could feel the blood in every single vain in her body, acutely hear every cell as it coursed through her.

Somehow, she had ended up on her back, on the ground. She could feel the coldness beneath her, the damp grass.

The knife was really starting to hurt.

Don't pull it out. Pierre said that was bad.

There was somebody talking nearby, but she couldn't tell what they were saying. What were they doing?

She had a vague sense that time had passed. There were flashing lights. Red. Pretty, pretty red. "Scar...?" She coughed as she tried to speak, feeling the blood collect around her mouth. She knew it was blood. She could taste it.

Her eyes were unfocusing. There was a pretty woman before her, trying to comfort her. Irish accent.

"Deirdre..." she smiled, even though it hurt to speak. Finally, awareness left her.

Renee - Cataclysm part II - R

[seminalsemiotic.livejournal.com]

Renee clicked "update journal", and that was that. There was nothing more to be said.

She rose and set about her room, packing magickal supplies into her shoulder bag. She didn't need too much for this, but these weren't items she could get away with carrying about openly. This time, though, she supposed she would have to at least acknowledge her father as she left. Especially since she hadn't actually called Scarlett like she was supposed to.

"I am going out!" she called, not even stopping as she made her way out the door. Her father called out something in response, but it didn't sound important.

What was important was that she made her way somewhere that wasn't here. Somewhere with a connection to Nature, to Power.

Perhaps... Regent's Park.

* * *


At this time of night, Regent's Park was practically deserted. There would be some questionable types about, Renee knew, but she trusted in the dark gods to protect her. She was going to need their power for this.

She chose a shadowy area far from the beaten path, beneath a tree that seemed to strive for the Heavens. Its strong roots, meanwhile, drove deep into the ground. Perfect. A conduit between Heaven and Earth.

It was time.

She removed the knife from her bag and placed it on the ground before her. That would come later. Crystals to symbolise each of the elements - Fire in the north, Air in the east, Earth in the south, Water in the west. These were all the paraphernalia she would need. The rest was down to her own invocation.

And what an invocation it would be, the most ambitious she had ever attempted. Forget Chaos Magick, this was the real thing. But if Deirdre could harness that power... so could she.

Invulnerability would be hers.

"Isis... Osiris... Horus... Who together are called IOH, I summon thee!" she began. The tree stirred in the wind. A good sign.

"IOH, I beg your protection, a humble servant of your almighty will." Yes. IOH would know the evil wrought upon her. It was IOH's will that she be free of it, she was sure.

"IOH... bless your humble servant with the power of invulnerability, that the wrath of neither man nor steel shall do me harm!"

The wind blew stronger now, and Renee could feel the power coursing through her veins. It was working! She would only need it for a few moments, she didn't even need to sustain it. She should have known. Of course it was working! Now, for the second part of the operation...

* * *


Bill Collins was late home from work that evening, and had decided to take a shortcut through the darker areas of Regents Park. Most people would have thought it a stupid thing to do, but he wasn't worried. Who was going to bother a plain-looking, middle-aged man in a cheap, blue-collar suit?

He was quite lost in his own mundane thoughts when he heard the chanting. His curiosity piqued, he made his way over to a bush, hiding behind it. Just beyond, standing beneath a tree, a young, beautiful girl was picking up a knife. What was she doing? From her dark clothing and make-up, he figured that she was maybe one of those Goths doing some sort of Satanic ritual. Well, each to their own. The girl was bloody hot, and whatever she was doing was fascinating to watch. He settled down onto his haunches and observed.

* * *


The knife pulsed and vibrated in Renee's hand. Good. It trembled with her power. So it should.

Renee was trembling too. Even with IOH coursing through her, what she was about to do evoked enormous fear in her. She was about to call upon the darkest of the dark. Evil incarnate.

"Sebekh," she intoned, the grotesque name leaving a foul taste in her mouth. "Devourer of Children, hear me now! Take this child growing in my womb, and deliver it unto Hell!"

She could hear Sebekh's roar. He was approaching! There wasn't much time. She would have to sate him now!

"Sebekh, guide my knife!" The Underworld awaits, Marcel.

"IOH protect me..."

And with those final words, she drove the knife deep into her womb.

* * *


"Oh shit!" The young man dashed out from his place behind the bushes, skidding to a halt by the girl's twitching body. Blood was beginning to seep out of the wound, winding its way past the hilt of the knife. The wound was deep, so very deep.

Billy fumbled in his pocket for his mobile phone, his shaking hands struggling to dial 999 as he extracted it. He finally managed it though, and was able to give the ambulance service loose directions to this secluded area of Regent's Park...

* * *


As the knife bit into her, the world snapped back into focus with stunning clarity. The gods were gone. No... not just gone. They were never there to begin with.

It was all so very clear to her now. She had been living a lie. There was nothing out there. She could feel the blood in every single vain in her body, acutely hear every cell as it coursed through her.

Somehow, she had ended up on her back, on the ground. She could feel the coldness beneath her, the damp grass.

The knife was really starting to hurt.

Don't pull it out. Pierre said that was bad.

There was somebody talking nearby, but she couldn't tell what they were saying. What were they doing?

She had a vague sense that time had passed. There were flashing lights. Red. Pretty, pretty red. "Scar...?" She coughed as she tried to speak, feeling the blood collect around her mouth. She knew it was blood. She could taste it.

Her eyes were unfocusing. There was a pretty woman before her, trying to comfort her. Irish accent.

"Deirdre..." she smiled, even though it hurt to speak. Finally, awareness left her.

Emilie / Ry / Slink - Phone call and info - PG-13

[seminalsemiotic.livejournal.com]

It was almost one in the morning when the phone rang at the Victoria Lane house. Whoever it was wasn't giving up, irrespective of the hour. The phone kept ringing...

Stupid phone. Didn't everyone know when certain people didn't want to be woken up due to better offers? Ry groaned as he rolled out of his bed, leaving Slink sprawled there behind him. Of course, Deirdre wasn't in the house so she wouldn't pick up the phone immediately. Jude was probably as stead-fastly ignoring the phone as he was.

Again, the foreboding feeling pricked at him. He picked up the phone and cleared his voice ready for talking.

"Hello?"

Ah, thank god Ry had gotten up. Stupid phone. She wriggled over into the center of the bed where it was warmer and streached out, awake but eyes closed. Who called at this hour anyway- unless something bad has happened. Oh shit- Deirdre was on a plane. Stephie forced her eyes open and listened to Ry stumbling down the hall to the upstairs phone line.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, then the sound of a woman choking back a sob. Finally, she spoke.

"I... I was looking for Deirdre Gallagher... I'm sorry, do I have the wrong number?"

Ry rubbed his forehead wearily. "No... you do not have the wrong number. Deirdre is currently... away. Can I ask what this is about?" he asked.

There was a ragged sigh on the other end of the phone line before the woman responded.

"Um... this is Emilie Baudrillard. Renee's mother? Um, I don't know if you know her. But she is in hospital. She..." Emilie sucked in her breath sharply as she tried to fight back tears. God, it was so hard to say it!

"The doctors say she tried to kill herself."

If it had been a movie, the phone would have dropped out of Ry's hand at Emilie's words. If it had been a movie... many things, if it had been a movie; and none of them relevant.

Ry swallowed. He'd suspected her as being less than stable, but this... What did one say when words simply wouldn't come out?

"How?" It was a stranged sound, barely resembling a word.

The voice on the other end was thick with tears, but continued talking seemed to be holding her together, at least for now.

"She stabbed herself. She was in the park. She... um... she is in the surgeon now. We do not know if she... will live."

Ry felt as though the air had been sucked out of his lungs. No. He simply couldn't be having this conversation with a disembodied voice on the other end of the line whom he'd met only once. This didn't sound like Emilie.

"No visitors?" Ry asked coldly.

Emilie sighed. "We do not know when she will be out of the surgeon." A male voice could be heard for a moment. "The surgery. We do not know when we can see her, or anyone else. Um... who is this?" She only now realised that the speaker on the other end hadn't identified himself. "I can call again when visitors are allowed..."

Stephie sat up when she heard Ry choke on a word- this sounded serious. She groped around Ry's floor for a shirt, found an old black one, and tiptoed over to the door to listen closer, ever curious.

"Yeah, do that," Ry said. "And it's Ry. We met."

"Ryan," there was a smile in Emilie's voice. Any kind of familiarity was good right now. "Renee said you were a good friend. She didn't talk about her friends much..."

The woman was crying now. It didn't seem that she would be able to speak any time soon. At a time like this, the simplest thoughts could bring one to breaking point...

"Yeah, we..." What was he going to say? Talked about philosophies on being greater than we were a lot... Hardly the kind of thing you said to a grieving mother.

No, not grieving mother. Renee was not going to die. But that still left him without know exactly what one said to a crying woman.

God... what if he had something to do with her state of mind?

There was a rustling on the other end of the line, and then a male voice spoke.

"Ryan, was it? This is Renee's father, Remy. I apologise for waking you with such terrible news. I am sure Renee will need all of her friends' support when she pulls through." Even he was swallowing back tears. He obviously didn't entirely believe what he was saying. And who could blame him?

"You will know as soon as there is anything more to tell you, I promise. Is this the best number to reach you?"

"Yeah, I never got around to getting a mobile phone."

"Alright then," Remy responded. "I hope that next time we speak, it will be good news. If you are a praying man, Ryan, now would be the time."

Ry nodded, and hung up the phone before consciously realising that Remy wouldn't be able to see it. Numbly, he wandered out into the living room and where a pile of Renee's books still lay. He opened one at the page he had read up to previously.

She was getting anxious, waiting for Ry to head back to his bed, so when he walked right past the door and down the stairs to the living room, curiosiyt gave her no choice but to follow him. "Ry," she hissed, in case Jude or Peirre were light sleepers, "what's going on?"

"Nothing, Steph. Go back to bed. I'll be up later," he said, not even glancing up from her book.

"Don't patronise me, Ry," Stephie frowned, annoyed, "what's going on?"

Ry looked over his book, exasperated. "Not patronising," he stated. God, wasn't it enough that he wasn't going to be able to get any sleep tonight? Was it too much to ask that it not be something he had to deal with until the next day? Daylight-day?

"Renee's in hospital." He clammed up on the rest. There was nobody who was going to tell him that that was everybody else's business!

"Oh..." Stephie said, searching his face for additional information. Nothing- he'd had too much practice at being unreadable. Jesus, Renee! The day after Deirdre leaves- did this have anything to do with that- no, she said she'd been feeling sick- but it must have been pretty bad to end up in hospital and to call the house after one in the morning! A thousand questions queued up in Stephie's mind, but she forced her jaw to stay wired shut for once. Pushing Ry right now would get her nowhere, she could work out that much. Why the hell was he angry at her? Well, two could play at that game... no, don't. "I have as much right to know as you do Ry," she said, knowing full well it wasn't precicly true. "Please?"

"No." Ry's eyes went back down to his book. Relenting, "Please, Slink. Go. To your own bed. I promise that I will tell you something more tomorrow. Okay?" His eyes came close to pleading with her, before the shutters came down once more and he was reading.

No, it was not okay. She wanted to know and he was treating her like a fucking child- she mentally kicked herself, hard- Stephie, don't you dare do this now. But her hands were clenched in fists, nails digging into her palms. Fuck him, Ry's superiour graces were the last thing she needed. She snapped round and walked off into the library, heaving the door shut behind her and slamming her fist into her thigh the moment she was out of sight. This was not cool, not cool. Why wouldn't he tell her anything?

Emilie / Ry / Slink - Phone call and info - PG-13

[seminalsemiotic.livejournal.com]

It was almost one in the morning when the phone rang at the Victoria Lane house. Whoever it was wasn't giving up, irrespective of the hour. The phone kept ringing...

Stupid phone. Didn't everyone know when certain people didn't want to be woken up due to better offers? Ry groaned as he rolled out of his bed, leaving Slink sprawled there behind him. Of course, Deirdre wasn't in the house so she wouldn't pick up the phone immediately. Jude was probably as stead-fastly ignoring the phone as he was.

Again, the foreboding feeling pricked at him. He picked up the phone and cleared his voice ready for talking.

"Hello?"

Ah, thank god Ry had gotten up. Stupid phone. She wriggled over into the center of the bed where it was warmer and streached out, awake but eyes closed. Who called at this hour anyway- unless something bad has happened. Oh shit- Deirdre was on a plane. Stephie forced her eyes open and listened to Ry stumbling down the hall to the upstairs phone line.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, then the sound of a woman choking back a sob. Finally, she spoke.

"I... I was looking for Deirdre Gallagher... I'm sorry, do I have the wrong number?"

Ry rubbed his forehead wearily. "No... you do not have the wrong number. Deirdre is currently... away. Can I ask what this is about?" he asked.

There was a ragged sigh on the other end of the phone line before the woman responded.

"Um... this is Emilie Baudrillard. Renee's mother? Um, I don't know if you know her. But she is in hospital. She..." Emilie sucked in her breath sharply as she tried to fight back tears. God, it was so hard to say it!

"The doctors say she tried to kill herself."

If it had been a movie, the phone would have dropped out of Ry's hand at Emilie's words. If it had been a movie... many things, if it had been a movie; and none of them relevant.

Ry swallowed. He'd suspected her as being less than stable, but this... What did one say when words simply wouldn't come out?

"How?" It was a stranged sound, barely resembling a word.

The voice on the other end was thick with tears, but continued talking seemed to be holding her together, at least for now.

"She stabbed herself. She was in the park. She... um... she is in the surgeon now. We do not know if she... will live."

Ry felt as though the air had been sucked out of his lungs. No. He simply couldn't be having this conversation with a disembodied voice on the other end of the line whom he'd met only once. This didn't sound like Emilie.

"No visitors?" Ry asked coldly.

Emilie sighed. "We do not know when she will be out of the surgeon." A male voice could be heard for a moment. "The surgery. We do not know when we can see her, or anyone else. Um... who is this?" She only now realised that the speaker on the other end hadn't identified himself. "I can call again when visitors are allowed..."

Stephie sat up when she heard Ry choke on a word- this sounded serious. She groped around Ry's floor for a shirt, found an old black one, and tiptoed over to the door to listen closer, ever curious.

"Yeah, do that," Ry said. "And it's Ry. We met."

"Ryan," there was a smile in Emilie's voice. Any kind of familiarity was good right now. "Renee said you were a good friend. She didn't talk about her friends much..."

The woman was crying now. It didn't seem that she would be able to speak any time soon. At a time like this, the simplest thoughts could bring one to breaking point...

"Yeah, we..." What was he going to say? Talked about philosophies on being greater than we were a lot... Hardly the kind of thing you said to a grieving mother.

No, not grieving mother. Renee was not going to die. But that still left him without know exactly what one said to a crying woman.

God... what if he had something to do with her state of mind?

There was a rustling on the other end of the line, and then a male voice spoke.

"Ryan, was it? This is Renee's father, Remy. I apologise for waking you with such terrible news. I am sure Renee will need all of her friends' support when she pulls through." Even he was swallowing back tears. He obviously didn't entirely believe what he was saying. And who could blame him?

"You will know as soon as there is anything more to tell you, I promise. Is this the best number to reach you?"

"Yeah, I never got around to getting a mobile phone."

"Alright then," Remy responded. "I hope that next time we speak, it will be good news. If you are a praying man, Ryan, now would be the time."

Ry nodded, and hung up the phone before consciously realising that Remy wouldn't be able to see it. Numbly, he wandered out into the living room and where a pile of Renee's books still lay. He opened one at the page he had read up to previously.

She was getting anxious, waiting for Ry to head back to his bed, so when he walked right past the door and down the stairs to the living room, curiosiyt gave her no choice but to follow him. "Ry," she hissed, in case Jude or Peirre were light sleepers, "what's going on?"

"Nothing, Steph. Go back to bed. I'll be up later," he said, not even glancing up from her book.

"Don't patronise me, Ry," Stephie frowned, annoyed, "what's going on?"

Ry looked over his book, exasperated. "Not patronising," he stated. God, wasn't it enough that he wasn't going to be able to get any sleep tonight? Was it too much to ask that it not be something he had to deal with until the next day? Daylight-day?

"Renee's in hospital." He clammed up on the rest. There was nobody who was going to tell him that that was everybody else's business!

"Oh..." Stephie said, searching his face for additional information. Nothing- he'd had too much practice at being unreadable. Jesus, Renee! The day after Deirdre leaves- did this have anything to do with that- no, she said she'd been feeling sick- but it must have been pretty bad to end up in hospital and to call the house after one in the morning! A thousand questions queued up in Stephie's mind, but she forced her jaw to stay wired shut for once. Pushing Ry right now would get her nowhere, she could work out that much. Why the hell was he angry at her? Well, two could play at that game... no, don't. "I have as much right to know as you do Ry," she said, knowing full well it wasn't precicly true. "Please?"

"No." Ry's eyes went back down to his book. Relenting, "Please, Slink. Go. To your own bed. I promise that I will tell you something more tomorrow. Okay?" His eyes came close to pleading with her, before the shutters came down once more and he was reading.

No, it was not okay. She wanted to know and he was treating her like a fucking child- she mentally kicked herself, hard- Stephie, don't you dare do this now. But her hands were clenched in fists, nails digging into her palms. Fuck him, Ry's superiour graces were the last thing she needed. She snapped round and walked off into the library, heaving the door shut behind her and slamming her fist into her thigh the moment she was out of sight. This was not cool, not cool. Why wouldn't he tell her anything?