What She Left Behind | Lelianna

Having Lelianna’s hand grip hers was enough of a comfort to calm her down and draw her eyes open. She exhaled a short laugh. “I’ve never asked anyone for this sort of support. Thank you, really.” She took back her hand and rather than move to the envelope, she moved it to the teardrop-shaped gem hanging from her necklace. Idly, she felt it with her finger and thumb.

“Remember what I told you when you won this for me?” She asked. “These were often worn by humans who opposed the camps, and that my mother was an activist and a legal specialist. Well… She often visited the camps personally, to gather evidence, to comfort people, to bring justice to all the wronged magi. She was very passionate about her beliefs.”

She dropped her hand to the envelope but did not make any motion to open it. “That was when she died. She was visiting a family of magi when hunters came in, falsely accusing them of conspiracy and terrorist plots. My mother put herself between them and…” She sighed. Her fingers traced random patterns on the envelope, letting the silence finish the thought. “Talking about her death doesn’t sadden me. She died fighting for what was right, and I doubt she held any regrets. I only wish I got to know her better… and something still blocks the memories I should have. I believe seeing these pictures will bring them back. Or, I have to hope so, at least; I have nothing else left of her.”

She unclipped the binder and lifted the envelope from the rings. She undid the clip and thread holding the envelope closed, and the weak adhesive came up without a problem. This was it.

She reached in and pulled out all of the contents. Loose pictures fell onto her lap. Essays, bound together by staples, came with. A few objects fell, too; buttons and scraps and other things. She set the envelope to the side and gingerly started to go through the photographs. She picked up the first one, and it all came back.

Mom. Of course. How could she forget mom? The memories were so clear now it seemed impossible that they could have ever been hazy. She touched the photo with her fingertips. It showed her mother, an adult in her 30’s with short brown hair, crouched in front of a freshly-dug garden plot in the backyard. Her jeans were dirty, her face a little sweaty, but she beamed the brightest smile. Next to her, covered in far more dirt and proudly holding two fistfuls of dandelions towards the camera, was a child with auburn hair like hers. That… that was her, Caroline, as a child. She… she remembered that day. The first day of spring warm enough to get the garden going. They went out for ice cream after that.

There were pictures she couldn’t have remembered. Pregnancy photos of her with either her sister or her. Pictures with friends. Professional photographs of her in her suit, arguing legal cases. Photos of young Caroline, and young Nadia, and the three of them together (The resemblance between the three was striking, unlike current comparisons between her and her sister). Of course, her father was in several of these, as well, but she felt nothing but contempt for him.

The memories didn’t hit like a truck, as before, but rather a gentle removal of a blanket or curtain. Even scenes not in the photos, she remembered. She could hear her voice. She could see her face, her laugh, her smile. It wasn’t lost, as she feared. It was all right here with her now; gods, she was so grateful for this. Tears rolled freely down her face, likely the first Lelianna had ever seen from her. She idly wiped at them as she examined more pictures.

“I … I remember.” She whispered, voice cracking. She sniffed and wiped her arm across her cheek. “It’s here. It’s all here. I… I can remember. Mom… I can see you.” She closed her eye and sucked in a breath. A tear rolled down the crease of her forming smile. “You never left me, did you? You tried… so hard to reach out to me… for all these years. You tried to guide me.”

Her voice slipped from barely audible to just… thoughts. She pressed a photograph to her head and bowed her head forward. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I did. You tried so hard for me, but I couldn’t hear you. I’m going to make it right. I will. You didn’t give up on me, and I won’t, either. I want to follow your example, for you, and for myself. I will make it right.

She lowered the photo from her heart and looked down at it. She caressed her mother’s smile with her thumb. A teardrop fall onto the photo. Then another. She tipped towards Lelianna, letting the magi support her. Then, in a whisper almost inaudible against the rain, she said:

_{“I missed you so much.”}

She allowed herself to be held in silence for … well, she didn’t know how long. As long as it took. She didn’t say anything, and Lelianna didn’t need to, either. She was content to just sit there and feel. She had spent years with so little feeling; even this bittersweet sadness, the tears, and dependence on Leli… it was all so much better than before, when she felt nothing. Those years felt so hollow that it began to feel like a bad nightmare more than her reality up until the last few months.

So she sat, and remembered, and felt, and noticed all the little things, like the feeling of the photographs, the sound of rain pattering fruitlessly against the tent, the softness and warmth of her companion, and the way her body gently moved with every breath and heartbeat. Even though her false skin muted the sensations somewhat, it now felt like a huge gate in her mind burst open, and she was seeing and noticing things she would not have before. To say it felt nice to allow her guard down and lean on Lelianna was an understatement; it felt comforting. It felt…

Right.

After however long it took for the tears to stop and her mind to settle, she sat upright once more. Now she looked down at the contents of the envelope with a grand smile. “Th-thank you, Lelianna. I did not expect it would be… so much all at once.” She wiped the remaining moisture away from her eyes and cheek with her forearm. “I’m sorry if I suddenly… lost it. But I’m glad you were here for this. It… may have been the most important moment of my life. I would not have chosen anyone else to share it with. Let’s go through a little more right now; I have a suspicion it will take me months to sort out my feelings with this… it’s just so much. But… well, we may as well while it’s still raining so hard out, if that’s okay?”

She idly began to sift through the photographs and papers and objects. She picked up a stack of essays and thumbed through them. “Oh, these are the dissertations she wrote about the camps from a legal standpoint. I heard some of these were actually published.” She set them down to read later. That would be some excellent material. She then went through a few more photos, and had stories to go through for many of them. “Ha, yes, that’s me,” she said about the little girl in most of them. “I can remember that now.”

She sighed. It was still a heavy emotional weight, and honestly, even though she wanted to keep going, after a few stories, she didn’t feel like going on really. Mental exhaustion was still a very real thing for her, after all. While she began to put them all back in the envelope, a small teardrop-shaped pin, about the size of her thumb, clattered against her boot. She picked it up and examined it closely, then breathed out a little laugh of disbelief.

“Her pin. For the sympathizers. I didn’t know it was still here,” she said. There were three Ls at the bottom of the tear, embossed in steel. The meaning felt so clear to her now.

“Liberation, Liberty, Love.” She said. She could almost hear her mother explaining it to her child self as she said it. “Freedom, equal rights, equal treatment… that was what they were about. Reversing the camps was only their first goal.”

She admired it a few moments longer before setting it in front of her. She wasn’t sure if she should put it on or not… Did she deserve to? After all she’d done? She left it out while she finished closing up the envelope and the binder, and set it aside. She turned to Lelianna with a gentle smile.

“Really. Thank you… so much for being here. I can’t… I can’t tell you what this meant to me. I’m still processing it myself… but it would have been much harder without you here. So, uh… um…” Well. It felt only right to return the gesture given to her at the pools. She leaned in gently and gave her an appreciative kiss on the cheek. “Thanks.”

She laughed at Lelianna’s coo, happy to move back towards the joyful interactions she enjoyed with the magi. “I suppose I was,” she said, then tilted her head at Lelianna. “I bet you were, too. A smaller version of you with tiny little antlers sounds precious. I’d pay to see those pictures.”

Once that laughter faded and stories were told, she found herself quite mentally worn. Still, it was refreshing to remember, and to be able to share the stories, especially since Lelianna seemed very interested in hearing them. It was a learning experience for both of the women. She promised to share more with her one day, but for today it was too much to continue to look through the pictures.

“You don’t need to thank me; I should thank y-“ And then Lelianna repeated the gesture. Even though she just did the same to her, and she’d already received a thank-you kiss at the pools, it still left her speechless for a few moments. It wasn’t an unpleasant shock; in fact, the warm feeling of her mind swimming was rather nice. It was … relaxing, after such a heavy experience. She smiled at her. So this was why people depended so heavily on one another. It was hard to get used to but… she knew she wanted to try.

“I should thank you,” she continued. “This would not have been a pleasant experience without you here. I actually enjoy being able to share my story with you; I… am not used to being so open. Or so close to other people. It’s … Nice.”

Outside, the wind howled and rain seemed to pick up in intensity. She looked up and over at the walls of the tent. “Hm. It seems to be rather unpleasant outside still. You can stay here until it passes; in fact, I would feel better knowing you are not out in the middle of that.” And on cue, a furry arm flopped in front of her face, drawing a chuckle from the cyborg as she pushed Stewart’s arm back up. “And of course you, too, Stewart. I wish I had something more to offer you both besides my company; I’m afraid I don’t have many interesting things to do inside here, but I would be happy to sit and talk. And if the rain does not let up, there is room enough in here for all three of us; you’re welcome to stay.”