listen to the wind blow (down comes the night)

[signed_sabrina]

running in the shadows
damn your love, damn your lies

i. Charlie
ii. Rosie

listen to the wind blow (watch the sun rise)

i. Charlie & Kavinsky
ii. Marcus
iii. Sam


[Collection post for Sabrina's threads during Lucifer's possession of Nick.]

Comments

[forthsofar]

Rosie would like to say that she was out the door and on her way to Sabrina's the second her friend's text buzzed through, full of anguish and confusion and pain. In truth, it took her a few minutes--most of them spent in slightly frozen horror, trying to make sense of what the other girl was even saying, how such a thing could be. The time for trying to understand it will come, she knows, and it's that reminder that starts her feet moving, lets her scrawl a note left on the kitchen counter for Neil (At Sabrina's--something happened, may not be home tonight), sends her hurrying out to the bus stop for the route that will take her up into the countryside.

Once the bus lets her off, she's running as fast as she can, up the slightly twisting road that leads to the cabin. Reaching the front door, she knocks once, then again, breathing hard. "Sabrina? Sabrina, it's me, it's Rosie."

[signed_sabrina]

The door swings open, and it's Salem who greets Rosie with a cacophony of noise, managing to sound both affronted and deeply upset as he trots off toward Sabrina's room-- most likely announcing her arrival.

Sabrina's on the bed, on top of her bedclothes, back to the door and curled up as tightly as she can manage. None of it makes sense; it's so wrong, and so against every talk they've had, every kiss and embrace.

She wants to cry, or to scream, but she feels frozen. She can't even make herself turn around to face Rosie, just sucks in a shaky breath.

[forthsofar]

That it's Salem answering the door concerns her all the more, something cold settling in the pit of her stomach as she follows him through the house and down the hall to Sabrina's door, left ajar only enough for her to see a sliver of the miserable scene inside. Carefully, slowly, Rosie pushes it open.

"Oh, Sabrina," she breathes, looking down at the small, shattered thing Sabrina's been reduced to. Still careful, still slow, she goes to the side of the bed, then climbs up, curving herself around the other girl. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

[signed_sabrina]

Sabrina gulps in a breath of air, again, as if each inhale pains her.

For a moment, she's completely still, her muscles stiff and her frame rigid, and then she manages to release that same wet punch of air. She can't make herself turn to face Rosie just yet, but she reaches for her hands, her arms to cling onto as she tries to make the words come out.

"I don't understand," she whispers. "How-- how can he not love me anymore?"

[forthsofar]

Rosie doesn't say anything at first, knowing the struggle Sabrina's going through, sensing it in every shaking breath. She'd gone through it herself, not long at all ago--even now, there's still a dull sort of ache deep within her, the last traces of the hurt David had caused her before she'd run sobbing from his house. That had been bad, but this? This is so much worse. This is Nick, the boy Sabrina had loved and lost, and been determined to go to Hell for the sake of.

Rosie never would have done half of that for David, even before she'd learned what she did about him.

When Sabrina laces their fingers together, when her hands curl around Rosie's arms, she moves just slightly, just enough to hold her friend a little more tightly. "I wish I knew," she says, her voice just as soft as Sabrina's. "I'm so sorry, I wish I knew."

[signed_sabrina]

"He's never... talked to me like that," Sabrina admits, in a small, dull voice. "I didn't think he had a mean bone in his body, honestly." She's hardly aware of the slow, steady course that the tears make down her cheeks, vaguely feeling them as they find their way along her neck and collarbone before finding the bed.

"He-- he didn't say anything to you?"

Slowly, feeling as if her limbs are full of wet sand, she turns to Rosie, her eyes huge and dark and swollen.

[forthsofar]

"I didn't think he did either," she says, and it's the truth. Everything he'd ever said about knowing Sabrina, loving her, all of it had practically shone with affection; every word, every gesture and look. To think that had been nothing more than an act turns Rosie's stomach. "He was always so nice. To you, to Charlie, to...he went to find me in that horrible dungeon after only knowing me a matter of weeks, that's..." She huffs out a breath, confused and sorrowful and already growing furious at him. How dare he. How dare he do this to Sabrina.

She stops herself there; what Sabrina needs now is not rage, but sympathy and consolation. She can provide that, better than she can anything else. Rosie lets the other girl turn within the circle of her arms, and when they're face to face, she lets go of her only long enough to smooth back a fallen lock of her pale blonde hair. "He...no."

She thinks back on the times she'd seen him over the past week, trying to recall any change in his demeanor, any clue of something amiss. "We went to coffee last week, the day after...well, the day after everything with David," she says, her brow furrowing as she sorts through her memory of the afternoon. If there's anything missing, any gaps smoothed over by another's hand, she's as unaware of them now as she had been when they occurred. "I'd gotten the time wrong, thought we were meeting at one rather than two, but he was...we went to the boardwalk, spent some time on the beach. It was the same as it always is."

Rosie looks down at her friend, wishing she could do more, say more, fix everything the way Sabrina had when she'd charged into David's house. "He did seem...distant, maybe? When I saw him after the play, the night I went to watch him and Neil and Charlie. I thought he was just tired, or still a little caught up in, you know, being Oberon. Something like that."