Static - Scarlett, Astrid

[scarlettvoices.livejournal.com]

The Oslo Opera House in Norway was a architectural wonder, according to Elise, and Scarlett thought it was nice but a little too 'modern' for her tastes. She liked the old opera houses, all gothic and gray stonework and spires. This thing didn't have any spires, just strange slanted roofs that meant you could walk right up onto the top of the building and look out over the water and art installation that floated out there.

Don Quixote was what the family were going to see tonight and it had been made clear to Astrid that if she needed to leave at any time then they'd go. No one cared about money lost. It just wasn't important. All anyone wanted was for Astrid to have everything she could. (Scarlett wasn't looking forward to the conversation that had to be had about how Ava had supplied the money, about who she really was, about what was really going on. Firstly because it was going to be difficult and secondly because of the knowledge that it was happening 'after'. When that conversation happened it meant that Astrid was gone.)

Scarlett had read Don Quixote but that wasn't exactly like watching it as a ballet and Scarlett had a little trouble following. Mostly she just found herself being distracted worrying about Astrid all through it though. Were there too many people? Was the temperature in here okay? Was it too loud? Were all the auras too strong? Was she taking any of it in? Did she remember who they were and where they were or was she silently freaking out that she was in a weird room with strangers?

But Astrid seemed okay until a few minutes before the interval when she whispered to Scarlett. "Have to-" the word seemed to escape her though and she made a gesture with her fingers coming away from her mouth. Vomit. Scarlett understood.

She helped Astrid stand quickly and took her arm to lead her out, after telling Arthur that everything was okay. They found the bathroom and Astrid stumbled into a stall and onto her knees where she violently threw up the little she'd managed to eat that day. Scarlett stood behind her, looking sadly at the all-too prominent spine sticking out of the back of Astrid's neck. She was so thin. A few months ago Scarlett couldn't even tell that Astrid was sick and now no one looking at her could think anything else. Astrid's sallow skin seemed to hang directly off her bones and the bags under her always-bloodshot eyes were heavy and dark. She looked like a little girl close to death.

Scarlett would have given everything she had just to make this stop and when Astrid turned around and looked up at her from the floor Scarlett just smiled sympathetically and handed her the water bottle from her bag. "Love you," she whispered, slipping down to her knees.

Astrid nodded and the two redheads held hands together quietly on the floor of a Norwegian opera house.

Back at the hotel once Astrid had been tucked into bed the rest of the family sat around the table in their hotel room and talked quietly. No one mentioned Astrid except in passing. Because when they talked about it it all became too hard, too much, too real, and sometimes it was easier to pretend, even for a family that knew it was healthiest to express not repress.

"She was so shy when she met us," Elise said after some moments of silence. "Oh, Arthur, do you remember how skinny she looked? And this was the girl who'd been living all alone in Nancy's bus! She didn't look old enough to do that."

They all smiled a little. Arthur squeezed his wife's hand a little tearfully. "She's a strong little one, always was it seems." Everything they learned about her made her stronger. Astrid had been so scared to let any of them know of her past, of her violent childhood and being forced to trade sex, barely anything more than a little kid. Their Astrid had always been strong and always been beautiful in the most important ways. Scarlett dropped her head down onto the table, unable to do this talk tonight.

Eventually they all went to bed after hugs and kisses - so much affection these days and they'd considered themselves an affectionate family before this - and Scarlett slipped into the bed beside Astrid as quietly as possible so as not to wake her. Sometimes Astrid did wake up in the night and got so scared of where she was. Scarlett hated that almost more than any of the rest of it. (It was impossible to chose which of all this was the 'worst' part though.)

Scarlett lay there for a long time listening to the feather-light breathing of her little sister. It was somethings to focus on. At least she's breathing. It could be a mantra to keep Scarlett going if it had to be.

At least she's breathing.

At least she's breathing.

At least she's breathing.

At least Astrid was breathing.

Scarlett cried as quietly as possible and sometime in the middle of the night, when Astrid woke up to be sick, she snuggled into Scarlett's arms and the girls slept like that.

In the morning they'd untangled though and Scarlett watched the crack of light through the curtain but couldn't make herself move. Astrid was either quiet or was already up and Scarlett wanted to just stay there and do nothing. Everything had become so much of a struggle in the last months. So little felt like it had a point when it was all going to end the same way. How was her family ever going to recover from this? There was going to be this Astrid-shaped hole of grief that nothing would ever fill up and Scarlett wanted to pull the covers over her head and pretend it wasn't happening. Frequently. Sometimes she did, but a blanket fort couldn't keep reality out for long enough.

Eventually Scarlett rolled over and watched Astrid's back, the curls of copper hair that had turned so dull and that shoulder blades that were so sharp. Hugging Astrid now was like hugging a coat rack. She was all sharp edges that Scarlett was scared she might break.

Carefully she pulled herself out of the bed and crept across the room to the en-suite bathroom, turning on the shower and sitting on the edge of the bath. She managed not to have another cry although she really wanted to. Scarlett had become a world champion crier.

Once the water was hot she stepped in and dropped her head back, rolling it slowly and letting the heat do its very best to soothe what it could. It helped the tense muscles in her shoulders but could do nothing for her thoughts.

After toweling herself dry and dressing, Scarlett padded out to the little kitchen and gave James a quiet morning smile. "Hey."

"Hey." He nodded to her over his bowl of cereal. "Astrid?"

"Sleeping. Mum and dad?"

"Same. Coffee?"

Scarlett nodded and let James pour her own, the two of them sitting there and watching the sky outside, cloudy but seeming to promise them that it wouldn't snow. Maybe they could actually go see some of the things in the guidebook then, once the coffee started making Scarlett feel less like the living dea-

No. Scarlett felt guilty even thinking that word.

"I'm going to go read," she finally said, leaving her half-finished coffee. She let James kiss her on the head and re-entered the bedroom. Her book was at the bedside and she picked it up, sitting down gently next to Astrid. She stroked at her hair, not wanting to wake her but wanting (needing) the contact.

Running her fingers across Astrid's forehead Scarlett paused, worried about her having a fever. She was too cold beneath to be okay and Scarlett whispered her name before (whole holding her breath) sliding her finger down to Astrid's neck and to her pulse.

But there was no pulse.

Scarlett left her fingers there for a long time and then, very slowly, drew them back.

She said nothing. She didn't call for anyone.

Instead Scarlett slipped back down into the bed and wrapped her arms tenderly around her little sister, pulling the blankets over the both of them to keep the world at bay.