029 - written, strikes readable, totally public.

[fuckitybye]

Claire, you all right?

Listen, I want to work out some shit here, and I feel like a right fucking arsehole trying to say it, so I'm going to write it down. My ex-wife would've

Last month or so have been fucked all to hell and back with a spikey two-headed dildo, yeah? And I reckon I'd be lying like a fucking Nixon if I said it hadn't gotten me thinking about what I'm fucking doing here. Wasting my fucking time, mostly. The shit I do, it doesn't fucking work here, or if it does, it's only a little and I been thinking that's all meant to drive me fucking batshit insane. And it's kind of working.

Same time though -- see, here's the fucking thing, back home? I don't have any friends. Married for the second time, yeah, but that's -- well, I'll tell you another day. Closest thing to a friend I got is my PA, Sam. And you always reminded me of She's the only person in Whitehall who's not fucking afraid of me. Never was, and that's why I hired her in the first fucking place. Everyone else, though? Fuck 'em. Christ knows I did. Never met a fucker I couldn't sell out one way or another. And the best part was, all those stupid cunts had to keep working with me, no matter how much I fucked 'em, still had to grin and fucking bear it and tell me chalk was cheese.

Funny thing about this place is, as fucked up as it is, I got friends. And I been making plans to sell them you all out, and you want, I'll tell you, but point is, if I had? I reckon things would have been kind of fucking unfixable after. You and Paddy, you wouldn't have been fucking obligated to keep treating me like a fucking pasha or something. And I

[And Malcolm Tucker disappears. The entry is left public because he carelessly forgot to set his filter before he started writing. Anyone who comes to his room will find it empty. Feel free to spam it up in here.]

Comments

[yourunichase]

God fucking damn it, Mulder. [And Parker went in and kicked something hard.]

SPAM - Assuming you meant in Malc's cabin and not her own? If wrong, will delete

[some-kinda-hero.livejournal.com]

[Wait. Wait, where did he go? Nononono, she knew the drill by now, knew this place, and even though Claire was certain about what she would find (rather, lack there of), it was still one of the hardest things to adapt to.

She took off for her Inmate's cabin at a full-out run, and for one fleeting moment, felt hope soar at the sight of his open door.

But he wasn't in there. Nothing was.

Except Parker.

All Claire would do was stand there stupidly and stare. ]

Spam! Totally meant his cabin.

[yourunichase]

[Parker turned quickly when she heard someone behind her, and her face was cold and composed when she saw Claire. If there was one thing that she was good at, it was being the ice queen, and this was simply another extension of that. She tried to make it appear as if it didn't matter that another friend of hers had fucked off, but there was something in her face that wouldn't properly ice over. She took a deep breath and then started to walk past Claire.]

Yeah, he's fucking gone. Just like fucking everyone else.

Spam! - YAY! It ate my tag! Sorry, hon. I was wondering...

[some-kinda-hero.livejournal.com]

[She was still stupefied, shaking her head. Slowly, at first, but then it became more vigorous in nature and before she could rightly stop them, the tears started to come. And the only word she can get out is "but", over and over through her sobs. He had saved her. She had helped him, was helping him, was getting him to the point of graduation. They had bonded time and again. He was going to graduation. He was going to graduate.]

Spam: No worries, babe.

[yourunichase]

[Parker wasn't good with weepy people. At all. Well, she wasn't good with people in general. She watched Claire for a moment, really staring at her and was reminded of just how young this kid actually was. God, she was here when she was this young. Parker had seen the posts that Claire had made about losing people in the past, but she hadn't actually... responded to them; it was too much like looking in a mirror. A step towards the girl was taken (and she was very much a girl Parker's eyes), and one hand briefly moved over Claire's arm. For someone like Parker, it was like a huge hug.]

Spam

[some-kinda-hero.livejournal.com]

[It's enough of an anchor to at least cease her broken record of "but's", and she tries to draw in a deep breath, only to take in shaky gulps. Claire tries to find words, really tires, because she wants to say so much more than what falls out.]

Damnit.

[Claire holds Parker's gaze and shakes her head sadly.]

Thanks...for...whatever. I know this happens. A lot. I know that. But that last Port...he was so close. Just like Serena was.

[Claire moves to where his bookshelves used to be, the ones she had filled with real reading material and not just impostors of empty pages, and she slumps down to the ground along the wall. In these moments she feels like a kid again. No matter how many adult situations she'd been faced with, forced to live with.]