coppelganger | ic contact; MoM

( The leather jacket is weirdly comforting. Thank God for that, for Sarah being here. )

I know. You’re always there for me.

( Faint, and getting less easy to understand. ) I think I’m gonna— sleep.

No. Sarissa, don't go to sleep. Stay awake for me. Tell me a story, yeah? Tell me something.

[ It's an echo of the same thing she'd said in December to Jessica Jones, but this time there's more fear in it. Sarissa can't die. Sarissa can't die again. ]

Don't sleep?

( Her speech is a little slurred, her lips tinging blue.

Sarissa clumsily reaches out with her right hand, resting her fingers against Sarah's cheek, mouth catching in a tired smile. )

Jane Austen or Bridget Jones?

Anything. Tell me about something stupid you did as a kid. I promise I won't make fun of you.

[ She smiles down at Sarissa, shaky, and then glances quickly around, trying to gauge where the ambulance is, how long it will take to get here. ]

I like when you make fun of me. It's what we do.

( Gently, she pokes Sarah's cheek. )

Once I broke into a guy's car at school and turned off the parking break. Rolled his car into the pond 'cause he was mean to a mate of mine.

[ This is the most Sarissa story ever. ]

Yeah? Then what?

Head Girl saw me do it. She made me do set painting for the school musical in exchange for not telling anyone.

( Her smile is crooked. )

I felt bad about the frogs. Took a while to clean up their habitat. Dick move by me.

Everything ended up alright, though.

Yeah. ( She smiles a little dopily, and lets her hand fall back to her chest. ) I didn't get in trouble. School musical was a success. The jerk's car was written off because it was already a piece of crap before it went in the pond.

( Her eyes are so heavy. Talking is really hard. ) Frogs did okay.

Good. Stay awake for me, yeah? They're nearly here.

[ She's thinking she should have just driven Sarissa herself, but she wouldn't have been able to drive and hold Sarissa's hand and keep her awake. She made the right choice, probably, but right now it doesn't feel that way. ]

Yeah.

( She can hear the siren, she thinks. Sarissa's having to work hard on breathing, but she squeezes Sarah's hand. )

Sorry for all those times I've been a dick. I'm— I know I make life more difficult, sometimes.

Life wouldn't be the same without some Sarissa drama once in a while.

[ She presses a kiss to Sarissa's forehead and then stands to wave the ambulance to a stop as it approaches. ]

( And that's it from Sarissa for a bit. She's drifting out of consciousness when the ambulance arrives, and passes in and out of awareness on the way to the hospital. It feels a little like she's falling, always falling without ever landing. Gravity keeps on pulling but it never brings her back to reality.

There's surgery, and then there's more inevitable sleep, but not the sort a person ever feels rested from once they wake up.

She's been spending too long in this bloody hospital. Been making Sarah be here too much, too.
Her first instinct on waking up is to give Sarah a little wave with her left hand. She feels the awareness of the gesture being carried out, even though she remembers that it cannot in the next breath.

Inhale, exhale. You're still alive. It doesn't make it less of a shock, but it's— something. )

Hey.

[ Sarah is sitting slumped in a chair next to Sarissa's hospital bed, messing with something on her phone, but she puts it down and smiles when she hears Sarissa speak. ]

Hey, you. How you feeling?

( One slow and groggy smile for Sarah. )

I think they put me on some real good painkillers.

( She’s not sure how to tackle all the rest of it. How is she?

Not okay, but she isn’t sure she can lean into not being okay, anymore. She knows how destructive she can be. ) Rainbows and stuff, that’s me.

[ Sarah scooches the chair closer to the bed so she can brush Sarissa's hair out of her face, smiling wryly, but not without affection. ]

Yeah, right.

( She smiles a little more. It's easier to look at Sarah than it is to look at her arm, think about her arm. Doesn't mean she isn't thinking about it, though. Doesn't mean she doesn't keep remembering.

Her eyes shut for a second, mouth jerking downwards unhappily, and she gently squeezes Sarah's arm. )

Probably this is a point where I should mention I'm allergic to bees. Should always have an epi-pen handy, but I always forget.

( Diversions with humoouuurrr kind of. )

What, so the bees stung your hand and it just... fell off?

[ Hooray, gallows humor. But seriously, until Sarissa gives her the actual story, what's she supposed to do? The whole thing is so fucked up, and she's just glad Sarissa is alive. ]

My hand actually turned into a bee, is what happened. Body rejected it pretty aggressively.

( Gallows humour, or just painkillers humour? Or is this just regular Sarissa? )

Thanks for comin' to get me.

Yeah, 'course. Sorry I couldn't do more.

[ Like... find the hand and put it on ice, or something. ]

( A sniff, and she lets go to Sarah to rub her hand over her face. )

You did heaps, always have. I'm—

( God, this is hard. Her fingers press hard over her eyes for half a moment. ) Don't worry. Do um, do the others... know?

Alison's here. I called her. I didn't want her to worry.

[ She's not sure if it was the right thing to do, what Sarissa would have wanted, but she had to. ]

No, that's good. She has to know.

( Hard to hide a missing hand from someone you live with. )

Can you— I want to be more healed up before more people know. So they don't see me like this. All messed up again, y'know? I don't— I'm worried about people having to look after me and worry about me.

[ I mean. Okay. Sarah's not sure she agrees with this sentiment, exactly. She can understand why it's going through Sarissa's mind—it would go through hers, in the same situation, she's sure—but the thought of keeping this from Cosima, even for a short length of time, just seems wrong. They're clones (and Sarissa's still one of them, whatever biology might dictate); the first response to any threatening situation is to hop on the clone phone and discuss. Still, it's what Sarissa wants, and Sarissa's the one missing a hand. ]

Alright. If that's what you want.

I want the Porter to develop a less shitty sense of timing.

( It's not a helpful thing to say, and she mouths a near silent sorry before letting her hand slide back to her side. )

You deserve better than dealing with my shit all the time. All of you.

ic contact; MoM

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i threw in a little timeskip but i can happily edit it up to change it

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