Things We Never Said [Open]

[morphitudinous]

Billy could see it clearly in his mind's eye:

Billy, Cassie, and Jamie would be wielding the new and improved Slop Immobilizer Gun, wearing their brand new non-stick safety uniforms, and presenting the project with triumphant smiles on their faces. They finally built something that wouldn't stick when it wasn't meant to. With that great weapon, they could trap their opponents non-lethally and be considered heroes for finding a use for the almost universally loathed slop.

It was now a scene that would never come to pass. Oh, Billy was still there, and Jamie was, and the gun was, and of course the slop would never ever go away, much to their dismay, but nothing remained of Cassie Lang but their memories.

Their partner, their friend. Dead. Billy thought back on all he knew of her: her family life, developing as a hero, her friends, her spirit, her contributions. All of that culminating in one of the better people he'd known, never to be seen again. Never to be thanked for all she'd done, and even he saw this. Comparatively he hadn't known her extremely well, but she was one of his own. Like B5 had been.

It was that thought that drove Billy into another version of the attack simulation, wielding the gun from his fantasy once more. He'd thought he was going to call Jamie and Cassie for the victory after the crisis, but he would now be running the test alone. Soon enough, the moving targets were in place and the first shots were fired.

Blam. Blam. This time, it worked exactly as intended, but there was no joy left in Billy's heart to celebrate. Instead, he found himself lowering his gun arm and starting to cry.

"Cassie..."

((Open because he'll be mourning here for a little while, even knowing that everyone knows where he is. Renne's last chronologically for now, but I'll work out some semblance of chronology at the end. I don't wanna leave anyone out.))

Comments

[morphitudinous]

"I know," he says quite seriously. "Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. The saying applies to more than just romantic relationships."

He checks to ensure that they're alone before responding. "But I talked to someone else today---I won't break their confidence and reveal who they were, but they mentioned that attachments can also be a weakness. If you hesitate to shoot someone who needs to die, and they then kill an innocent person, that affects you. They were really shaken by the memory."

"I worry that I might be crippled by grief in an emergency situation if I were to lose someone close, like you, but I've been assured that I'll see enough death here to 'get used to it' and stop being affected so much." Just the thought of that makes him really uncomfortable, and it shows with how defensive and worried he looks.

[bonnypiperlad]

Jamie is quiet for a moment, then says finally, "Ye don't ever 'get used to it', Billy, not unless ye are some sort of monster. I..."

He glances down at his kilt for a moment, fingering the fabric with a far-away look on his face. When he raises his glance back to Billy, his eyes are full of regret. "I've seen a lot of people die, Billy, both back in Scotland and when I traveled with the Doctor. Most times there's nothing ye can do for it, save mourn them. But it still affects ye, and ye need to go on as best ye can, despite it."

Letting the kilt fall back into place, he continues. "I think that in the moment, though, the grief won't take ye. You're stronger than that."

[morphitudinous]

Jamie's words strike him hard. So it is possible to remain human despite all the death that occurs in front of their eyes. It's...comforting, but sad.

"I will go on. And...I'm sorry that I'm being so self-absorbed and immature about this. Most of the people here have had wartime deaths as a constant in their lives forever. I should have a better handle on myself by now."

[bonnypiperlad]

Some people might disagree with that statement, but Jamie believes that it is definitely possible. On some level, he supposes that there are people who could get to that point - and maybe 'monster' isn't exactly the right word for it - but he doesn't think he could ever look at someone who's died and not feel anything at all.

He doesn't think Billy could get to that point either. Nor does he think Billy is being self-absorbed in this case. "Ye aren't being immature, Billy. Ye are grieving the loss of a friend. I'd worry more if ye did not do so."

Shaking his head slightly, he says, "Ye don't have to apologize for that. Not with me, anyway."

[morphitudinous]

It's impossible for Billy to show gratitude with a smile right now, but his eyes manage to communicate it.

"Thanks, Jamie. It means a lot."

Straightening his posture, Billy calls one of the other freed ants over and solemnly pets it. "I think I just need some more time here to say my goodbyes. I'll be fully functional again as soon as I can manage it."

[bonnypiperlad]

That's understandable, and Jamie is getting the idea that now might be a good time for him to leave. There are some things that need to be dealt with by oneself - and Billy's not the only one that may need a little time alone.

"You're welcome, Billy. I...I should go, anyway. I've a song I need to practice."

Billy should know the one. Jamie played it before, around the same time they had a conversation like this. He starts to make his way over to the exit, but stops and turns around.

"Look, if ye need me, though, just call. Aye?"

[morphitudinous]

Aye, the song Billy knows too well and hoped never to hear again. So it must be.

He looks up, studying Jamie's face for a brief moment as if it will be his last chance to do so. "I will, Jamie. I'll see you again soon."