WEEK 8

[grimgrinningghosts]

[Two months. Two months of being trapped in this mansion. Two months of heartbreak and despair. Two months of wondering if you are all going to die here.

You finally have a real ray of hope thanks to Mr. Walt, but even he claims that it will be a hard journey ahead. You all have to be strong, physically, emotionally, any kind of strength will work against what you're up against. Maybe take the next few days to rest before the long journey, or prepare for the dangers that await, the choice is yours, but...

Will you be able to escape?

8 guests remain]

[ SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY ]

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Comments

[sixfingeredstan]

[Ford steadies himself with a slow, deep exhale through his nostrils, and reaches out to give Lefou's shoulder a squeeze.]

It's hard...to let the people we love put themselves in danger, no matter how capable they are. But I'm sorry. It's hard to fight with someone you care about so much.

[toogoodforhim]

[It feels so stupid now, that that's what they fought about, that he'd been unable to sleep because the bed felt so big and empty without Maui, and now that Maui's gone he doesn't even want to set foot in their room. If he'd only fought him harder on it... Maybe Maui would still be here.

He reaches up and grips the hand on his shoulder, grounding himself beneath Ford's hand. He squeezes his eyes shut.]

He was... so worried about me.

[He shakes his head, squeezes Ford's hand.]

I'm sorry, I'm making this all about me.

[sixfingeredstan]

[Ford stares down at Lefou a little agog, even in his grief, before he goes ahead and pulls Lefou into a tight hug. They could both use the physical comfort, a reminder that neither of them are alone, not truly. Not while they've got each other.]

You're not. This is about both of us. You're allowed to grieve. It's...healthy. We've got to process it. So you...you let it all out. I'll be here for you, my boy.

[toogoodforhim]

[Lefou chokes a little on half a sob when he's pulled into a hug, wrapping his arms around Ford's chest and clinging to him, burying his face in the soft red knit of Ford's sweater.

It almost feels silly, that it hurts this bad even now that he knows they can get them back. But when he closes his eyes he still sees Maui lying there, he can still smell- And not even the portrait or the recording of his voice can replace that memory.

He laughs, tearfully, into Ford's sweater, and his voice trembles when he speaks.]

We share the weight, right? I have to be here to support my Captain, too.

[sixfingeredstan]

[He's more than happy to let Lefou cry into his sweater; this sweater has seen its share of blood and tears in the past two months. He gives the younger man a squeeze, hand rubbing comforting circles between his shoulder blades.]

That's right. [His voice is quieter, hoarser, than it's usually confident booming tone.] I've got you. And I know you've got me.

[toogoodforhim]

[Lefou's shirt is much the same way. It's no longer the pristine white that it was when he arrived, overall more of a blotchy, stained sort of ivory, like the shirt wears the stains that Lefou carries with him now.

He looks up at Ford, then lifts one hand to wipe the tears off of his reddened cheeks with the ruffle at the end of his sleeve.]

Don't be afraid to lean on me when you need it. I'm a lot sturdier than I look right now.

...I never thought there would be- hope that we would be able to actually... bring them back.

[sixfingeredstan]

I'll try to remember that.

[He gives Lefou's back a gentle pat, and actually cracks a smile as he looks down at him. It's not a real smile, not really; it doesn't reach his eyes behind his glasses, but it's an effort.]

Neither did I. I'm still...I'm not sure if I buy it a hundred percent. But we have to hope. We have to believe we can get them back. Because...I need to. We need to.

[He needs to get Fiddleford back. He's already broken his promise to keep him safe. He'll die trying to save him, if he has to.]

[toogoodforhim]

[The smile that Ford gives him, Lefou mirrors. His eyes are shadowed so deeply it looks almost like they're bruised (not unlike but less severe than when his nose had been broken a month ago), and the smile doesn't reach them.

But when he breaks from the hug reluctantly, his voice is certain.]

We will. Even if we have nobody to rely on but ourselves, I'm with you. [I would rather put my faith in Ford's science than a stranger's magic. If they can't save them, then they'll join them, face hell with their chins held high and storm the gates.]

Besides, they know we're coming for them. [That was what Star had said when she faced execution - that she'd tell the rest they were coming.] I'd bet they'll meet us halfway.

[sixfingeredstan]

That's right. [Ford lets his arms drop, his hands instinctively moving to clasp together behind his back.] I know you've got my back. And I've always got yours. That's... [He hesitates, just for a moment.]

That's what family's for, after all.

[And what is this ragtag little band of weirdos by now, if not a family?]

I certainly hope you're right. I hope they're not...afraid, or suffering. I hope they have hope.