54. Grief and Hope Collide
54
Grief and Hope Collide
Matt
The overall tone of the room can easily be described as somber.
At a time when we would otherwise be celebrating a great victory, we’re instead bogged down by what can only be described as a crushing loss.
Whenever we prepare for a mission, we always go over our list of pros and cons, doing simple math to establish whether the victory is worth the cost.
In this case, I believe Darius and Antoinette would still consider the victory well worth the loss, even if that loss was at the expense of their own lives.
I'm not so convinced. Lilith, even Tony, a man who is well-known for being able to rationalize necessity, a sacrifice for the betterment of mankind, is battling the sacrifice that feels too great to comprehend.
By the time we were forced to abandon the search, Kaian had received word that all of the individual missions were successful.
This means a huge chunk of the criminal underworld was officially handicapped, some of them even completely out of business.
Any excitement I may have had over this achievement feels muted by the gaping void of our personal loss that’s too painful for us to even begin to celebrate.
A crash on the other side of the room draws my attention. I rise from the chair I've been sprawled in for the last hour, walking across the room to Tony as he rage-smashes another computer.
Normally, I would be upset by this, but my own urge to indiscriminately smash inanimate objects tempers my annoyance.
I stop a few feet from Tony, watching the various emotions run through him, taking note of each one and how it feels within me.
Rage is the simplest emotion to manage. It runs hot and thick through your veins, an electric current keeping at bay the sticky emotions you prefer to avoid.
Sadness. Bitterness. Grief.
Carolina’s standing off to the side, looking as grief-stricken as the next person, but she's not stunted by the life-long conditioning of burying your feelings.
Her eyes are glassy, and tears stream freely down her cheeks as she looks on helplessly. Her eyes meet mine, and I mouth silently, “I’ve got him.”
Her small smile is grateful, though close-lipped and sad. Then she turns silently, making her way to where Lilith, Issa, and Jessica are sitting.
Another crash drives my attention back to Tony. He’s now standing there, wild-eyed, having run out of things to smash. He outright bellows in fury, the outer limits of the sound tinged with anguish.
He twists around, obviously looking for something else to grab. When he comes up with nothing but air, he spins back, losing his balance and toppling to the floor.
He catches himself on his hands and knees, suddenly becoming still and quiet. I close the distance between us, dropping to my knees beside him, resting both of my palms on the top of my thighs as I await his next move.
“It wasn't supposed to be like this,” he whispers harshly.
“You're right. It wasn't.”
"Part of me doesn't wanna believe it. Part of me feels the mere idea that this is our new reality is completely preposterous and impossible.”
“Same.”
He pushes his upper body back and swings his legs around so he’s sitting on the floor with his knees bent. He leans forward, crossing his forearms across the top of his bent knees as he hangs his head. “This fucking hurts, man.”
“Fucking right, it hurts," Declan interjects as he seats himself next to Tony, throwing an arm over his shoulder and yanking him closer.
Tony stares at him with watery eyes, snorting as he attempts to shake him off. “Get the fuck off of me, Dec.”
“No.”
I laugh, a bit envious of Declan's ability to manage his emotions given any situation. Complete transparency has always been his baseline, and today will be no different.
He looks at me, and the distinct lack of hope in his eyes cuts me like a knife. Pain rockets through me; my attempt to choke it back down only makes it more shocking. Tony shakes his head as he says, “I’m scared letting myself grieve is like giving up hope.”
Declan's arm around his shoulders tightens as he gives him a little shake and says softly, “Grief and hope go hand-in-hand, Tony. Sometimes, the only way to survive the pain is to let it rip you open.”
I can count on one hand the number of times I've ever witnessed Tony shed a tear. And even with those times, I likely have a few fingers to spare.
Now, I likely won't have enough fingers to keep count.
Tony inhales a ragged breath, immediately expelling it as tears begin to fall with such ferocity they don't even have a chance to touch his skin. I watch them fall into his lap, giving up my idiotic idea that I’m capable of holding the tears back.
It's quiet; there are no wailing sobs or anguished screams.
Carolina appears on Tony's other side. She sits beside him, scooting in close, wrapping one arm around his shoulder and her other gripping his front.
Issa kneels behind Declan, her hand resting on his shoulder. He reaches back, snagging her wrist and pulling her until she squeezes between him and Tony.
Jessica sits quietly on my other side, her upper body pressed close to mine. She rests one hand on my back, the other gripping the front of my shirt, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her more firmly against me.
Lilith sits in front of Carolina, turning so her side is pressed into Carolina’s front, her legs beneath Tony's raised ones. A hand squeezes my forearm, and then he grips me by my elbow, yanking so sharply that I fall forward into Declan. “For fuck’s sake, Dec.”
“Shut up.”
I don't bother trying to escape; instead, I scoot in closer, taking Jessica with me, leaning partially on Declan and partially on Tony as grief envelops us.
More people arrive, silently settling in the middle of the room with us. Kaian is there on my other side next to Jessica, Marieka with him, and Camilla leaning into Lilith.
We remain like that, a group of shattered humans piled beneath crushing grief.
Declan chuckles randomly, and I turn my head to look at him. “What is it?”
He swallows, then clears his throat. “I was just thinking what Dare would say right now if he could see us here like this.”
Tony chokes on a laugh and says, “Likely some infinitely clever piece of wisdom that would make us wanna punch him in the face.”
“And then there’s Toni,” Lilith retorts. “She’d be throwing words of encouragement to get it all out.”
“With a prisoner hug for every last one of us,” Carolina adds sadly.
We all laugh for a moment, that one tiny anecdote managing to dull the pain just enough that I can take a deep breath without feeling like I’m going to choke on it.
But none of us move.
We remain here, suspended in this place where grief and hope collide.