IN HONOR OF BETH CHILDS VERY POSSIBLY COMING BACK TO US TOMORROW NIGHT: Prompt - Beth returns (in any way you choose) to Sarah. Of course, Sarah thinks it is in her mind, but surely enough, Beth Childs is alive and ready to kick some ass. Bonus points if Sarah has feels over Beth.
Paul liberated Sarah from the military. She didn’t ask how. She probably doesn’t want to know. She’s home. That’s all that matters. He has her at the townhouse. He’s out. Won’t tell her where. Just. Out. No matter how hard Sarah scrubs at the grime colouring her skin, she cannot lift the stains. She’s a patchwork of dust, blood and bruises.
Her body has been battered and her mind bears an equal burden. She sits on the end of the bed, fingers anchored to her roots of her hair. Eyes squeezed shut. She just needs a few minutes of quiet. She needs to process, to order the jumble in her mind. Dehydration doesn’t help, it makes her thoughts feel like cement. She needs Felix, she needs S and she needs Kira, but she can’t have Kira. Because Kira is safe. She’s safe, with Cal. She’s out of danger. Kira is the only thing that matters. If she is safe, Sarah will fight another day.
There’s the gentle rap of knuckles on the bedroom door and Sarah jolts to her feet. It’s not Paul. It’s Sarah. She shakes her head, correcting that toxic thought. It’s a clone, but there are no glasses and no dreads, no Shakira hair, no colour co-ordinated track suit. Who is that?
Sarah’s head shakes back and forth fractionally, fast enough that she could be vibrating. It can’t be. Shite. She’s finally lost it. It was only a matter of time.
“I didn’t bloody escape did I? I’m still there. It’s just whatever shite they pumped into me.”
She spits through teeth, fingers furling and unfurling. Why does she have so many ghosts and why do they follow her everywhere?
“You did. You’re safe. I have some explaining to do. Why don’t you sit down.”
The woman advances on Sarah who backs away, she’s too close to the wall, she’s letting herself be cornered. She’s meant to be a survivor, a wild one, a criminal, a hero. That’s what they call her, isn’t it?
“You’re not her. You’re not. Please just leave me alone.”
Sarah can feel her mind rupturing, she desperately clings her thoughts. Like patching a leak only to have another spring free. It’s a losing battle.
“Hey, see this. I’m her. I’m Beth, Sarah.”
It’s hard to tell who’s who these days.
Beth(?) turns and angles her neck to Sarah, revealing the remnants of an ugly scar. The mountain bike accident. That badly healed calling card gave Sarah away when she was in Beth’s shoes. Beth’s shoes that should have remained empty.
Sarah reaches for the wall but finds her legs won’t hold her either. She slumps down and rests her head on her knees. The room is spinning, black spots appearing, her world fading. She’s saved from unconsciousness by some deep breathing. Maybe she should have let herself slip. The few seconds she’d be out for could have provided precious rest.
“W-Why did you leave us?”
Sarah’s voice croaks, but it doesn’t phase her. The time for that has passed. Us? There wasn’t an us before Beth, and if she hadn’t have jumped - or whatever the hell she did - there wouldn’t be an us now.
“I am so, so sorry. Sarah. I’ll tell you everything, I will. But not right now, we’ll take it slowly.”
Beth sinks down in front of her, Sarah can only peep up from the safety of her resting knees for a few seconds at a time.
“You knew about it all didn’t you? Leda, Castor, everything.”
There’s no outsmarting the street scally, even in such fragile condition, Sarah will not be fooled. Beth gives a small nod, her eyes are sympathetic, but not pitying. Sincere.
A wounded sob escapes Sarah’s chest. She wants to hate herself for such weakness, but she can’t. She wants to hate Beth, but she can’t. Because there’s such relief in knowing that someone like her is back and is on their side. She feels like she knows Beth, like Beth knows her. That sharing, that taking her life has brought them closer. There’s an understanding between the two of them. An unspoken nod of “I get it.” Beth was aware of the scope of their situation, Sarah is the only other person with such a vantage. Or more likely a curse, a death sentence.
“I needed you. We could have…”
Sarah flits between rage and an almost childlike heartbreak. Beth abandoned her. Abandoned all of them. She’d probably make up reasons as to why. Intricate details of where she was and what she learned and how they’ll make it better. That won’t help Sarah. That won’t soothe the damage of what she has lived through. Because.Beth.Left. Is this what Kira went through every time Sarah closed the door?
“Sarah, you’re not going to trust me for a long time, if not ever, and that’s ok. But I’m going to get us through this. It’s almost over. I swear it.”
The tears steak clean tracks through Sarah’s grimy layer.
“Not until a few days ago.”
Beth’s indifference is not lost on Sarah. She believes her. He was probably part of the reason she left.
“You need a shower and a goodnights sleep, then we can talk. You have my number, just call if you need anything.”
Sarah can’t face being left alone. She doesn’t need Beth to talk, her mind won’t be able to handle it. But she needs to keep the other woman close, to make sure that she’s real, to watch the seconds pass and to watch for Beth to disappear. If she’s there in the morning they can move on. Sarah needs the night to heal.
This connection she feels scares her, she can’t explain it. Maybe there’s a safety in having someone who can hold their own, who Sarah doesn’t have to protect, who is just as weathered, and worn, and broken as she is.
Beth stops at the door and smiles softly, Sarah just about returns it.
Pulling herself up from the ground, Sarah just needs reassurance on one thing. Just to give her the vigour to keep pushing forward. She needs renewed strength.
“S’almost over, yeah? All this… shite.”
