ic contact; MoM

[coppelganger]

Hey, it's Sarah. Leave a message.

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[coppelganger]

See you soon.

[ What? Of course Sarah's still up. ]

[oddbod]

[Clara's bike pulls into the drive at about 5:30, and a moment later she knocks on the front door, soft and even.

She's looked worse at Sarah's door, but this time something is different. She isn't a whirlwind of anger and self-destruction; this grief is quieter, more distracted. Her boots and leather are nowhere in sight, replaced with old sweatpants, and her hair is a wreck. Her eyes are pink and distant.]

I brought whiskey.

[coppelganger]

[ Sarah opens the door, looking much the same as always—kind of tired, kind of grumpy, but mostly okay. She steps back to allow Clara to come in. ]

Hey. Come in. Alison is sleeping, but— [ She shrugs. As long as they're not screaming, it's probably fine. ]

[oddbod]

[Clara steps inside silently, toeing off her shoes at the door. The house seems unnatural, too quiet without Sarissa's voice.]

I hope I'm overreacting.

[She pulls the bottle out of her backpack, hand gripped tight around the neck, and makes a shuffling move towards the sofa.]

[coppelganger]

Shall I get glasses, or are we gonna do this right?

[ Sarah follows her to the sofa, hands in her pockets. ]

[oddbod]

[The bitterest hint of a crooked smile. Clara sits down, knees tucked tightly to her chest.]

No glasses.

[coppelganger]

Alright. [ Sounds good to her. She takes a swig from the bottle and passes it over to Clara. ]

You can get drunk now, yeah?

[oddbod]

I can get very drunk.

[She takes the bottle and takes her own gulp, trying her absolute damnedest not to show how disgusting she still finds the stuff. It's vile, but it's effective.]

[coppelganger]

Well that's good. Otherwise it's gonna be a long month.

[ It will anyway, but Sarah is holding onto this deadline, just like she had with Sarissa. ]

[oddbod]

Why a month? Isn't it usually twenty-four hours?

[It always has been with her.]