Author: Christi

Spoilers: Lost City Part I and II

 

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She comes to visit me.

 

I don’t know how she manages it, seeing as I’m currently frozen deep in the heart of Antarctica, but some days, she just shows up.

 

At first, it was to run tests. She’d come and purposely not look at me as she bustled about, taking her little samples and poking around with the wiring on this thing. And at first, I was relieved to see her, because if anyone can get me out of this charming little ice prison I’ve managed to get myself into, it’s her.

 

But unfortunately, when you’re frozen in a big block of ice, you have a lot of time to think. It’s not really like you can do anything else-I mean, most of the knowledge of the Ancients is gone by now, it just sort of…left me. So I don’t even have that to entertain myself, and I’m stuck, not moving or breathing or being, just thinking.

 

Can you think of anyone worse to be trapped inside his own head?

 

But see, it was OK, because I knew it was just until she came to visit and poking around and trying to figure things out. I could watched her and not have to be all alone, not anymore. But that damn thinking got in the way again, you see.

 

Because time passed. I don’t know how much time-it seems interminable, but it would when you’re playing the part of ice cube. And she still came, without fail, but I was still in my head, and I looked at her…and saw too much.

 

The shadows under her eyes, the skin stretched across her too gaunt figure. The desperation in her eyes when she glanced my way-something she had avoided at first but that was happening more and more each time she came.

 

And it was getting worse.

 

She kept trying, kept running her tests, but it was slower now, because she knew that she didn’t know how to fix this. But she couldn’t seem to stop, and now I’m standing here trapped behind a layer of ice, wishing she would.

 

She’s my only company in the world, but I wish she’d stop coming.

 

Because seeing her like this is worse than not seeing her at all.

 

I wish I could talk to her, just for a minute. Tell her to go, give up. Go back to Pete, who we both know was just a distraction, someone to keep you from doing something stupid with me, but who’s actually a decent guy and at least has a normal body temperature. Go anywhere, do anything, just get that haunted look out of your eyes. I know that look, I saw it in the mirror every day before I met you, and it’s a scary thing.

 

But she keeps coming.

 

The tests get shorter and shorter, because by now they’re just a pretense to get her here. She does them quickly because she knows they won’t make any difference, and then she comes and she stares at me, and her eyes are so hollow that it hurts my frozen heart. She touches the ice and I can almost feel her fingers against my cheek and it’s too much, too hard, and she shouldn’t be wasting herself down here, not for me.

 

But she is, and she sits there and she cries and something in me shatters-it’s too cold to just break.