𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙧

- button.

First things first: she’d find out what happened to her.

Then? She’d fuck up whoever put her here.

The Dollmaker would make sure. Her foes would reap a whirlwind.

So there was atrophy. That meant more than a few days. Outside the window, though it pained her to look into the brightness, trees changed colour, leaves drifting slowly to the ground.

Autumn. It was late spring last she knew. That meant… several months at least.

Blindly, she reached for a call-

- beside her bed slowly beeping in time with her pulse.

Eve couldn’t remember how she’d gotten there, nor could she remember what day it was. She’d been in her office, watching the cameras as the Dollhouse reopened, and now…

Here.

She struggled to sit up, her arms almost immediately giving out.

The first thing she knew was tubes. The second was brightness. Searing, impossible brightness all around her.

The third was pain like she’d never felt before. Her head screamed, a white hot poker stabbing into her cranium.

Slowly, she blinked her eyes open. She was in a hospital bed, a monitor-

𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞
~~~~~

In the shadows, stripped of sin.
In the shadows, deep within.
In the shadows, 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘺 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡.

- in the news. She's beautiful. Congratulations to the three of you..."

It was genuine, her face breaking out in a smile as she nuzzled into the crook of Joan's neck again.

"The three of you? That girl will be spoiled rotten, I guarantee it."

- shared dream. A future that would never be.

Eve sighed, letting herself relax. What was, was, and what would be, would be, and right now, she was here, with Joan in her lap, and for a short time, they could pretend nothing had happened.

"I heard about your daughter. Celine. Saw some pictures-

𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

Three words she had wanted to hear for so long. Across oceans and continents. In her dreams in the dead of night.

She didn't deserve it.

Her face grew hot and her eyes began to sting, and Eve blinked furiously to keep the tears away.

"The twins..." she murmured, remembering their-

Tell me who you want to be,
And I will set you free.

Well.

We’ll see, of course~

- her hand caressing Joan’s thigh through her jeans, Eve sighed.

“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t dredge up old wrongs. But… I do think about you. All the time.”

Even now, smelling Joan’s perfume, feeling her in her lap, Eve wasn’t convinced this wasn’t a dream.

“Joan…”

But the words couldn’t come out.

Eve nuzzled into Joan’s neck, taking in her scent, one hand planted on her thigh to keep her steady.

“If I could go back in time,” she whispered against her ex’s skin, “I wouldn’t leave.”

Evelyn Harris was not a woman with many regrets.

That was one of them.

Planting a kiss against Joan’s neck,-

Never say never, as they say~

- yes. Just while we’re here…”

It was a foolish suggestion. Childish. Infantile to even consider.

But in this moment, the two of them reunited, anything seemed possible, even the patently impossible.

Slowly, Eve opened her eyes, staring down into Joan’s face, every detail exactly as she remembered.

“I know. We can’t. But say-

Eve closed her eyes. If she didn’t look at Joan, time wouldn’t pass. They could stay here forever, wrapped around each other, in this perfect moment.

Just the two of them, swaying on the spot to a beat only they could hear.

“Joan,” she whispered, breaking the silence, “we could run away…”

- been crying.

Wiping her eyes with the back of one hand, makeup be damned, she apologised, her voice quiet even in the empty cafe.

“I’m sorry.”

It was as much an apology for the crying as for…

Well.

Everything else.

This was a nightmare. This was the worst one of all.

Eve wrapped herself around Joan, arms finding the perfect spots like it was second nature, like they were made to hold Joan, squeezing her tight and kissing her, even as she felt her face getting wet.

As they broke apart, she realised she’d-

- at her shoulders and dropping to below her knees, she held out a hand, awkwardly.

“Joan- you look great- it’s been a while-“

Part of her thought Joan wouldn’t be there, that this would be another nightmare and she would wake up alone again.

When she saw that blonde buzz, sitting at the back of the cafe, it took every ounce of strength not to break out in a smile.

Smoothing out her dress, a deep ocean blue, strappy-

Jeanne-

I’m never not thinking about you. Your hand in mine. Your perfume lingering on my clothes. The last time I heard you laugh…

I’ll be there. Our table, in the back.

Un petit café? For old times’ sake?

Maybe… if I see you, I can stop thinking about you.

𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦-𝘵𝘰𝘪, 𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘰𝘵.

𝘓𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵.

Wherever you like, mon coeur.

I remember a little café by the Seine~?

𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘮𝘦, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥~

𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯~

𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦.

𝘗𝘢𝘶𝘷𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘰𝘵.

𝘛𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘶 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘪𝘦𝘴~