((the usual disclaimers about such things go here - the journal is presently kept in Runya's old satchel tucked amidst her other things in the room she has at Rowan and Frankie's))

Runya pads around the warmly decorated flat, barefoot and luxuriating in it. She has a fresh cup of hot cocoa in her hands as she settles on the sofa near the fireplace and she looks into the mug, like a scryer with a cup of tea leaves. But all she sees is the past.

Measuring the cocoa with fierce concentration, she's sitting at the big wooden table in the Parish kitchen. Whysper is giving instructions and Runya gets to pour the measured powder into the roiling milk on the stove, Sister D hovering nearby while Runya stands on the rickety chair, watching the stuff transform from dry to wet. The steam coats her rapt face, and when Whysper gives her the wooden spoon, she feels like a proper witch indeed, making magic with the ordinary, queen of transformation.

Runya snuggles warm on the sofa, and smiles slightly. They may all have been lost to her, but the cocoa, she could make again and again. She takes a small blissful sip then sets it down on the rug, picking up the other thing she'd carried over: a blank book, pen tucked within. Turning back the cover, she contemplates for a long moment, then finally starts to write.

---

December 15, 2009

Lucy died last month. She stroked out a year ago and nobody found her for a good ten hours, and she had a bleed, so there you go. I went back to take care of her at the old Priory. They let her stay on campus with her employee housing even after she retired which was good. Redwoods everywhere and those green, pettable hills.

I packed up her stuff and donated it - she didn't have anyone else but me. Then I went to Tico Tico's old grave in the wood, Fred's too, right next to it. I don't think I'll ever be going back, y'know?

I had a moment of serious deja vu when I was leaving, and for a minute, I wondered if I'd turn around and find myself back in Midian. But no Narnia for me. Not anymore.

I remember when Father Eamon told me that story... on the beach when I was still ratty and on my own, me and Fred. My clan.

Brother Heavy, he told me that. Told me Fred and I were a clan and I didn't really know what that meant except family. Fred and me. No matter what happened, my family, me and a small brown mouse. Cater, Lola, Whysper, Spike, Fia, Conor, Luci, D, Guin, and Eamon, god, Eamon. All gone. Fred too, now, years ago. And finally Lucy. I'm a clan of one.

Yeah. So back to real time. Note to self: writing in a journal makes me nostalgic.

I'm back in Hathian and got rehired on at the HG. Crazy trauma nursing like usual. Things have been pretty even for the past few weeks. I paid up at a little Inn near the hospital for a month so I could save up for a bit, and I've slowly been meeting people. A couple cute guys, one named Tank who reminds me of Spike from when I was a kid. God, he's... yeah. Unattainable. The other one is Nikolai, this Russian bartender at the TT, a girlie bar, but it's not like that, at least not the times I've been there? Anyway, he calls me Doll, has a charming smile and silver eyes and... yeah. Also unattainable.

So crushing on guys aside, just getting by and having fun with it. I love my work. It's my calling, my life. And then one night I'm in Lou's bar. I have the place to myself so I put a bunch of Queen on the old jukebox and was playing pinball, singing at the top of my lungs when the power died.

Horror movie time, only it was real and I was the one doing the bleeding and the crying and yelling.

Basically, some psycho crazy woman is all I know. I couldn't see her in the dark and then she used this strobe light before attacking so I have these surreal flashes of her, mostly this mask she wore with crazy teeth. She cut me up, the worst being these four long slashes from left shoulder to my hip. Those will scar. And the most embarrassing is the P she carved on my right shoulder.

I couldn't have gotten attacked by a psycho crazy who's name starts with R?

Yeah, yeah, I know. Inappropriate humor time. Anyway, in the process, I'd just met a doc at the HG named Rowan? She's actually a doc over in Fishtown but we worked together on this kid with a brain bleed and hit it off. She found me along with some cop and fixed me up, then insisted I come stay with her at her place.

I've taken to thinking of her as Tidal Wave Rowan. She's just... swooped in to my life. Seems to think she wants me as family, calls me a sister, wants me to LIVE with her and her guy, Frankie. Dragged me to the wedding of his brother, Trin, to a very pregnant younger girl, Ais.

I'm not used to this sort of involvement, so fast. I believe her? I mean, she doesn't FEEL like she's lying. What would she have to gain? But I'm not used to relationships being formed so quickly. Bonds need roots, common experiences, shared memories, evolving trust. And that word, family. That's not something I like to toss around so casually.

She's agreed to me paying rent - I just couldn't stay otherwise. I took charity as a child, at the monastery, at the Parish, and again with Lucy. I'm not doing it again. And she told me a bit about herself and I do think she's this amazing lady. I'm just not quick like her. I need time, y'know?

Last night was the strangest. I was at the HPD to be interviewed by a detective there and fucking damn do I hate this whole "victim" thing. I saw it on his face, in his eyes, his whole demeanor. That's not who I am. What I am. It just makes me angry, angrier than anything else, even that lousy P on my shoulder.

So I'm in a grumpy mood when Rowan texts me to say there's dinner. Well okay, sure. But she didn't mean dinner, she meant DINNER. With her whole family, Frankie and the newlyweds, all three of whom I met the night before at the wedding. And she's calling me family in front of them and dear sweet god, they have to think I'm some crazy interloper using their dear sweet Rowan for money or something.

The whole thing is nuts. And I don't really know what to do. Rowan is pregnant too, with twins of all things, and today she tweeted (oh, and don't get me started on this Twitter thing) that they were engaged which is great, but gah. What am I doing here?

See, they're a clan. And as much as Rowan so sweetly wants to include me, I'm not. I'm an outsider. And instead of making me feel good all it does is bring back memories of before. Of other kids I'd meet or become friends with who had parents. Who had someone who loved them beyond their own lives, who put them first and would do anything for them.

I had Eamon, and Guin and the nuns, but I wasn't special. And it wasn't until I was in nursing school that I really understood how jealous I'd felt about it when I was little. Angry and sad and worst of all, filled with this unnameable, unsolvable longing for, yeah, you guessed it Mr. Blank Page, the unattainable.

So I'm here now an--

Crap, the baby's coming. More later.

Runya