[identity profile] twicedead.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] zg_shadows
It hurt me so much to see her like this. Broken... no shattered was the right word in English for this. I had left her to go to Scar, to fight the good fight – I’m not sure if she understood. She had barely spoken to me then, I don’t know if she could speak to me now. She had been a part of Him and the separation would have been devastating for her. I touched her and she didn’t move, not the tiniest motion – not even to flinch away from me.

When I first found her I knew nothing, then she gave me Knowledge. Maybe we found it together. Together we could be complete, whole. But now I had broken that pact and it had killed a bit of her, and His death had hurt her even more. Together we had helped people, some time we just listened to their troubles, sometimes we had taken them away from danger, sometimes we had driven them to the place that they needed to be and then we watched their backs. Once we fought a demon together, well, she dragged me back to my flat after I fought the demon and if left me broken.

But I had gone away and now she was broken. A Rat-child had smashed in her windscreen and then thrown a Molotov cocktail in through it. She would have fought back, but a London Taxi was just a car when London was dead.

I sat in the driver’s seat and the springs were still hot where they stuck through the burned leather. I hesitated once before trying the key. She coughed, but then she turned over. Somehow she had held part of her safe. She was scarred and silent but she had stayed alive. The wheel stuck a bit as I swung out into Regent Street but she moved.

I reached out to her soul. The whole night had been about rage. I had fired round after round into the heads of the security guards. They had kept coming at me and each shot had struck one down for another to follow. I did not see faces on those heads; I was caught up in the rage of a million, angry rats. It could have carried me away, but now I was back. My soul reached to hers and that last flutter of City is both our hearts reminded me that what had been destroyed today was the nightmare of cities, the worst of it all – the best of it were the people who looked up at each other on a train and connected for that moment, who checked up on each other when the lights went out, who offered each other a lift to the station when the snow fell.

The first flakes of snow fell settled on her bonnet as the first person looked up. For a moment he looked at me with totally hopeless eyes, lit in the orange glow of her taxi sign. Then I nodded at him and he stepped forward and opened the door.

“Battersea. Please.”

“South of the river sir? OK, just this once.”

We’d take him home. And we would keep him safe. And maybe she’d remind him of the good parts of the city. And maybe we’d be the start of something – rather than the end.

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Zeitgeist Shadows

February 2013

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