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Loneliness.
How trite.
Loneliness: Lacie was lonely, despite it all, despite the Core and Oswald and Levi and Jack and her Chain—how ridiculous! Lacie Baskerville, lonely! It was laughable, really, and yet true. She could no longer deny it: she was going to die, dragged down to the darkness of the Abyss by her poor brother’s Chains, and that made her feel lonely.
Lacie would have laughed at herself, if it weren’t for the haze of loneliness in her chest tamping down any brighter emotions. Honestly, lonely—her?
Well! At least she wouldn’t be lonely for long!
…Though, to be completely honest, Lacie didn’t welcome death. Death was not an old friend, or something she would greet with a smile and acceptance. Lacie Baskerville did not want to die.
And yet, she knew, she must. Because her very existence was a danger to the Abyss.
Would that someone else were in her place! Someone like Jack, to whom death would be a relief from his empty, empty life—someone like Levi, who would go to it laughingly, the last great amusement—someone who wasn’t Lacie, who didn’t long to take the world by storm and dance in its every form.
Lonely—she was lonely—she had been so lonely, for so long, because she was going to die, and she’d always known it—
But what was the point in being lonely? Lacie was not the one who was going to mourn. Why shouldn’t she pursue her life to the fullest while she had it, and not worry over things she had no control over?
—I shall be lonely if you…disappear.
Poor Oswald—it had been his words that had helped Lacie identify her own loneliness, but at least, she thought half-hysterically, she had an end date for hers. Poor Oswald—the very fact that he’d considered that she might ask Jack to take her away…
She was lonely now. Oswald would be lonely in less than a week. Jack…
Perhaps he’d been lonely in those eight years he’d searched for her. Perhaps he’d been lonely before they’d met—perhaps he’d be lonely once she was dead. She had lost the chance to ask him.
But would he even have an answer for her? Jack, Jack, poor, abnormal Jack…his lack of answer might have been answer enough for her, had she asked, but she hadn’t.
And besides—Lacie almost didn’t want to know. Her own loneliness was terrible: if she took Jack’s or Oswald’s loneliness into her, she thought it might—ha!—kill her.
Not really.
She would not be dead. She would merely be upset. Lacie did not particularly want to be upset—at least, not any more than she already was. She wanted to enjoy her final days. She did not want to be mourned, though she had enjoyed being loved.
Love without mourning—could there be such a thing? Could Lacie be loved and not mourned? She had thought that this would be the case, but Oswald’s words had shaken her to her core. He would mourn her—Jack might as well, though really, who knew with him? Perhaps his obsession with her would fade, after her death; perhaps it wouldn’t. Maybe Levi would bring him in on their plan, and make him contact the Core of the Abyss, or Lacie’s child, or both—whichever of them was right about what would happen, once she was dead and her child was not.
Personally, Lacie hoped that the Core would gain a friend from her unborn child. A body would be lovely—if the Core had a voice to talk with, surely she’d be far happier and far less lonely, but if Lacie’s child was born with a soul of their own, then there most likely wouldn’t be space for the Core in their body, unless the Core was far more like a Chain than Lacie had always thought—or if she somehow gave birth to a Chain, which was far more likely, in which case the Core would have a better time fitting into the body.
The Core…she really ought to say goodbye, and soon. Less than five days now, after all, and the Core might see her obliterated—or, God forbid, have a hand in it…she would have to tell her. She would have to say goodbye.
So: Lacie stood, and headed back towards her tower. She would have to say her goodbyes now, but this time, at least, she would be leaving behind more than just a toy for the Core of the Abyss.