Work Text:
Having spent the last hour going through every casting technique she knows, Lena sits against a wall and sighs. She's stuck here, it would seem, in the distorted pitch black of the strange reflection of Webby's room in which she finds herself.
"It beats the dime," she thinks to herself.
She's trying to keep herself steady. She's trying not to get upset. She's trying to stave off the hope that she'll rematerialize, like earlier. She knows it'll only hurt her to cling onto that. She can't let herself go mad in here.
In service of that, she tries to sleep. She sits in the corner of Webby's room, spectral as it is, and tries to sleep. She sits for a very long time, with her eyes closed, and she tries to sleep. She is trying to sleep.
Dream will not come.
She sighs, again, louder, and she sits, and she says, to herself:
"Some freedom this is."
"Free of sleep! ...and body! ...and agency. ...and... ...everything...."
She sighs. She stares.
"Some freedom."
She looks to Webby's bed.
"At least you're alright, Pink."
Lena stares. She watches Webby's breathing.
"I hope you don't miss me too much."
She looks at the floor. Her eyes well.
"You can't hear it, but I'm sorry. I didn't think she would... I didn't know she would-"
Tears.
"I guess I didn't think I would... care about you."
She curls up. She sobs into her sweater. She knows Webby will never know. She knows she'll never get to tell Webby anything. She knows Webby will always think of her as some evil force. Or at least, that's what she tells herself.
When she finishes crying, she sniffles and looks up, distraught.
"What do I get then, for all of this?" she cries out, to the sky.
"I'm dead to my only friend, I'm trapped in this place, and what's my reward!?"
She slams her fists into the floorboards.
"You ungrateful wretch! I threw away my life for you and you kick me to the curb like I don't exist! All that deception, all those stupid, stupid schemes and what do I have to show for it!? No magic, no friends, no freedom, nothing!"
She hunches over, winded from the outburst. She breathes heavy.
Voice wavering, she manages, "you promised me my freedom."
She stays like that, catching her breath.
As she's reaching calm, she hears a sharp breath to her side. She twists her head.
"No, no, no, no, no, no," comes the quiet, pained speech.
Lena stands. She walks to Webby's bed. Webby is breathing erratically; her face looks scared. And she keeps muttering "no".
Lena hesitates. She looks at her hand, and, carefully rests it on Webby's side. For once, something in this place is solid. She gently rubs to Webby's shoulder, trying to comfort her. She knows Webby can't feel it. She knows that's impossible. But still, her breathing slows. Her face relaxes.
Lena considers the situation.
She lies down next to Webby, hugging her with one arm. As she lies there, hoping this somehow helps, she finally falls asleep.