Ai fucking Ai-Ai.

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The LOOOOOOONG log my network didn't want me to finish. EVER.



Sarah enters the quiet mansion, boots tracking mud in behind her. Slowly she climbs the stairs, feeling rain water slowly drip down her back and legs from her soaked clothes. Not only is she wet, but she's fucking cold. Sweatshirts don't really help much when they're covered in holes. She finally reaches the top of the stairs, greeted by the worst possible welcome home ever.

Somebody's playing mariachi music really loud up on the third floor.

Annoyed, she stomps up the second flight of stairs, following the music straight to Betsy's room. A test of the doorknob shows the door is unlocked, and she pushes it open with a tired grunt. "I swear to god..." she starts, but then sees there's no one inside. She's tempted to chuck the fucking thing out of the window, but suddenly the music stops. Instead, Betsy's voice starts speaking. Sarah inches towards the laptop like it's a ticking bomb. She hears Betsy start talking about the Morlock tunnels.

"I think I'm finally coming to understand what it means to be a Morlock. Weary wanderers who accept the dark, rather than fearing it. It's a wonder they managed, let alone Sarah...no child should have to see the dead corpses of her family. No one."

Sarah stands dumbfounded for a moment, and then shakes her head vehemently. "People like you can never understand."

A new log starts, and this time Betsy sounds far more tired, and irritated.

Sarah's eyes scan the desk, and right beside the laptop is a book with Sarah's
name on it. She picks it up casually, flips through the pages. It's a book of poetry, Poe to be specific, and it looks old. A notecard is tucked inside the front cover, written in Betsy's handwriting.

"How is one to live a moral and compassionate existence when one is fully aware of the blood, the horror inherent in life, when one finds darkness not only in one's culture but within oneself? If there is a stage at which an individual life becomes truly adult, it must be when one grasps the irony in its unfolding and accepts responsibility of a life lived in the midst of such paradox. One must live in the middle of contradiction, because if all contradiction were eliminated at once, life would collapse. There are simply no answers to some of the great pressing questions. You continue to live them out, making your life a worthy expression of leaning into the light."

Sarah, when I think of you, I'm often reminded of this quote. I never seem to have the right answers for you and sometimes there are no right answers. I meant to give this to you quite some time ago, but things got a bit harried. I hope you enjoy the book, at least, I did when I was your age.

Be well--

The bane of your existence
Elisabeth Braddock

Staring through the open door, Alison narrows her eyes as she realizes that not only has Sarah entered Betsy's room - clearly without permission considering her friend's current condition - but also that the young Morlock is listening to what can only be private logs from Betsy's computer. While going through her things.Leaning on the side of the doorway, she crosses her arms and waits for Sarah to notice her, wondering how long this has been going on, and what exactly Sarah thinks she's doing in the first place, anger simmering slowly inside at the violation of Betsy's privacy.

"I don't think I'll have to tell you this, David, but I'm not too optimistic about the whole thing. Not that I'm doubting Essex' surgical ability, but, well, I'm just not totally confident of the outcome," The log continues to play.

Sarah stares at the computer. "...the fuck?" She closes the book, and turns to get up, staring at Alison. "Shit. Did /you/ know about this?"

A cool look greets her question, and Alison arches an eyebrow at her slowly, clearly not a happy camper at the moment. "Know what, exactly, Sarah? Considering you're currently in someone else's room, going through someone else's things, I suggest you think carefully before you answer."

"Her computer was brodcasting mariachi music into the next fucking country. I came in to turn it off. Then it started playing her logs." Sarah tries not to look guilty, determined not to give in. For once, she actually /wasn't/ to blame.

"And you just couldn't turn that off, I see" is the non-question, Alison still not budging an inch from where she is, fists tightening imperceptibly. "And how long have you been listening to them, exactly?"

"A few minutes. She was talking about the tunnels, and then this one came on. Why didn't anyone tell us she was having surgery?"

The slightest of flinches at the question is the only visible reaction to her question, and Alison clenches her teeth, taking a deep breath. "No one knew," she finally allows, tension evident in each word as she walks swiftly towards the computer, and toggles the volume off neatly.

Sarah continues, gripping the book in her hand. "Well it would explain a lot."

"Yes, it would," Alison says, thinking back on Essex's post a few days earlier. Knowing that particular bit of news probably hasn't made it to the students yet. "Doesn't explain why you listened to someone's private files though, Sarah."

"It was playing, and I was /here/. I'm not going to go running from the room, especially since she's talking about me. Besides, she probably set this up on purpose."

"Set this up on purpose? Oh please," Alison snorts, giving her an unimpressed look, annoyance quickly rising to the surface. "Try another one, why don't you. Not everything is about you, Sarah."

"I didn't say everything was, Ms. Blaire." Sarah practically spits out each word. "All I know is I certainly wouldn't have come up to the fucking third floor, had her computer not been up really loud, and I was ready to throw the laptop out the window. Suddenly it switched to logs. Do /you/ have an explanation?"

"The explanation doesn't matter, Sarah. All you had to do was shut down the volume!" Everything in the room reminds Alison of where Betsy is now, and in what condition, and it does precious little to calm her flaring temper. Her eyes flicker to the book still in Sarah's hand, and she shakes her head. "And leave her things alone, while you were at it."

Sarah rolls her eyes. "Let's see here. It had my name on it. The log said that she meant to give it to me. Of course I'm going to look at it. I'm sorry it bothers you so much."

"Oh yeah." Alison reins in her control tightly, dimming any of the remaining light about her firmly. "That would be the log that was private and not for anyone to listen to, right? Usually, you wait until someone gives you the gift, not just wander in and take it on your own."

"It CAME ON!" Sarah growls, frustrated. "If it makes you feel better, you can keep the fucking book until she can give it to me. I don't fucking care."

Alison rears back suddenly - her shoulders slump after a moment, and she looks away once more. "Keep it," she whispers. "She would have wanted you t- she wants you to have it, after all." Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes, collecting her thoughts. "You should go now." She reaches over and snaps the portable closed with a smooth motion. "I'll take care of things here."

Sarah watches as Ali practically crumples in front of her. She brings the book back close to herself, and shakes her head. "You know something even I don't."

One hand resting on the now shut computer, Alison looks up at Sarah, eyes glazing over in thought for almost a minute as she considers. "There'll be an official announcement made later to the students," she finally says, straightening up with a tired sigh, the strain of the past days combined with her worry for Betsy clearly showing through. "But... Betsy didn't..." She takes a deep breath, and then shakes her head slightly. "The surgery went well, but there were complications. Betsy is in a coma. We don't know when she'll wake up."

Sarah stares at her in total disbelief. "Just...like that? She fucking goes off without a word for surgery, and now she isn't waking up? What a fucking...." she trails off, looking down at the book in her hands.

Looking at Sarah for a moment, Alison softens slightly and moves aside to clear the path to the door should she wish to leave. "If you'd like to visit her once things quiet down, I can arrange for something," she offers quietly.

Sarah grips the book tightly and turns to leave. "No. I don't think that's such a good idea, y'know?" She stares evenly at the room for a minute and says quietly, "I'm sorry if my prying pissed you off, but she deserved every fucking bit of it."

She slams the door behind her.