“A sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without a specific cause; a longing with nothing to long for.”
As everyone else left the clucking Bell factory, Charlie lingered a moment, trying to piece together a feeling she’d had since the timeline changed. Something was missing. Tempus stood, watching people leaving, waiting, almost as if he knew she wanted to ask him. Finally as the last car left, and only Dean, Tempus and Lyla remained, she approached the incarnation of time and voiced what she’d felt. Hoping she was wrong, that she’s imagining it.
“I lost something, didn’t I? I feel like I lost something, but I can’t remember what…”
Tempus’ voice was sad, gentle and compassionate as he answered, confirming that she’d a connection with something that was no longer. The void she felt, he said, would never be filled. She’d felt something at a name - when he said they were gone, but it wouldn’t stay in her mind. The name now a meaningless noise echoing within that hollow feeling.
There were other questions, but Tempus couldn’t answer them. Honestly she suspected as much, even as she asked, yet as they were on her mind she asked them anyway, feeling better just for voicing them, for all she still had no answers. Could she bargain with the time enforcers? And would she ever reach a balance with her curse, or was she doomed to be swallowed up by it?
Dean asked what the conversation was about as he drove them home. She only told him about the loss, and of Tempus’ reply. He suggested maybe a rune? She thought not, not feeling like she needed this thing like a drug, just that it’s missing. A greif at its absence, like she felt for Lucy… But not. And with no memories to comfort at its loss.
Home, she put up her gun, put away everything she did not need, and as Dean went to fix someones car, drove to the clothing store to change out of the bloodsoaked clothes she wore. Unconsciously changing into black, and text Dean to say she was going for a drive, needed to clear her head. Her twin offered his company but she felt like she needed silence… to try and make sense of her feelings and so she said no.
The drafter ate up the miles as she drove randomly, around to the ranch, past the casino, none of it what she was seeking. Finally through mirror park, up the hills there, as high as she could go, from there she took in the view; the lights of the city, the lights of the cars like ants scurrying in an ant farm. Its as Tempus said, a loss of a connection she cannot remember, and still, it’s absence aches inside.
She feels even more lost and alone as she watches this usually comforting view, apart from the hustle and bustle. Just for the need to speak to someone, she drives down to the city and the nearest repair shop, punctures her rear tyre with a screwdriver, and calls for a mechanic, tipping him well, but not really registering his face. Then she’s off again, driving around vinewood hills until she begins to tire, and home then, sitting on a lounger and morosely watching the stars reflecting in the pool, letting her mind still and sleep claim her there.