[ when the end finally does come, as they had all known that it might, it's over too quickly. no time to react, or attempt to save herself. perched above the saloon and firing indiscriminately at all those invading the town she's given so much to protect, emma and her companions never see the wagon bogue's men wheel onto the hill overlooking the town. not until it opens fire.
bullets rain down over rose creek and bring hell with them. they can defend against men with black souls and pistols in their hands, but the devil's breath is another matter entirely.
everything seems to speed up and blur after that. someone is trying to shepherd her back inside the saloon, where there is at least a little more cover to be had. she supposes, now, that they never made it. can't remember feeling anything more than a rough shove in her back, a sweeping kind of cold, and then nothing.
nothing save waking up here and somehow, already knowing where she is. the darkness outside the windows is too complete and overwhelming to be much else. a faint sort of guilt thrums in her chest at leaving rose creek just when they need her the most. at not getting to see through the battle that she began. all of which is overshadowed by the realization that she will not be alone for much longer. soon, she and matthew will be reunited. the only good thing to come from all this.
perhaps she should have expected more familiar faces, having seen the carnage in the streets before everything around her disappeared, but she isn't prepared for the voice just over her shoulder. eyes go wide, and the barest hint of a smile (worn since thoughts of a reunion first arose) disappears as she turns to find him, wearing that very same smile he'd donned on their first meeting. ]
Mr. Robicheaux. I didn't...- [ he came back, she remembers now. came back only to end up here, and suddenly that guilt coils tighter in her chest. squeezing around her lungs and whispering in her ear that this is all her fault. ] I'm sorry. This wasn't what I wanted for you. For anyone.
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bullets rain down over rose creek and bring hell with them. they can defend against men with black souls and pistols in their hands, but the devil's breath is another matter entirely.
everything seems to speed up and blur after that. someone is trying to shepherd her back inside the saloon, where there is at least a little more cover to be had. she supposes, now, that they never made it. can't remember feeling anything more than a rough shove in her back, a sweeping kind of cold, and then nothing.
nothing save waking up here and somehow, already knowing where she is. the darkness outside the windows is too complete and overwhelming to be much else. a faint sort of guilt thrums in her chest at leaving rose creek just when they need her the most. at not getting to see through the battle that she began. all of which is overshadowed by the realization that she will not be alone for much longer. soon, she and matthew will be reunited. the only good thing to come from all this.
perhaps she should have expected more familiar faces, having seen the carnage in the streets before everything around her disappeared, but she isn't prepared for the voice just over her shoulder. eyes go wide, and the barest hint of a smile (worn since thoughts of a reunion first arose) disappears as she turns to find him, wearing that very same smile he'd donned on their first meeting. ]
Mr. Robicheaux. I didn't...- [ he came back, she remembers now. came back only to end up here, and suddenly that guilt coils tighter in her chest. squeezing around her lungs and whispering in her ear that this is all her fault. ] I'm sorry. This wasn't what I wanted for you. For anyone.