Come Sail Away IC Inbox

[crushed_pearls]

Erin's voice mail message is in a weary voice: "Erin Peters. If you called in the middle of the night and I didn't answer, I'm dying. If I pick up and someone on your end isn't dying, they will be shortly. Text otherwise."

Comments

[decrypter]

There's a small affirmative noise, and Helena's quiet again, breathing steadily. It's a good thing that they laughed earlier, that her spirits are buffeted instead of sinking down as they might. It keeps her listening, instead of trying to shut things off.

Finally, she speaks again.

"I...do want a peaceful life. At least, as much as is allowed."

One where she can tell people it's her birthday, and not think she's being selfish. One where a trip to enjoy the snow can be just that. A life where she can laugh until she aches and simply smile afterwards. A life where she can write.

[crushed_pearls]

"Yeah, we can't always choose when sorrow comes calling. We all live in debt to woe and it collects on its own schedule, but...even if I can't promise to teach you peace, I'll be here learning it alongside you as long as you'll have me."

Erin yawns and winces; that was her jaw popping. "Think I might be tapping out, little bird. You gonna sleep more?"

[decrypter]

"...Yeah. In a little bit."

In the meantime, she wants to lie here, letting the idea of a peaceful life sink in, until it lulls her to sleep. In the daylight, she'll ask Erin what one does for a belated birthday, and probably fall to laughing all over again the moment she hears something that sounds like a trumpet.

It'll be a good day.