Chapter Text
home from a terrible dream
They fall out of Time, a single moment of despairing fury stretched thin and taut across all eternity, for there is no longer any possibility of change, or regathering, or fruition: nothing but an endless, clawing void, the true vacuum never found in the natural world. The White Rider hears her brother scream, and scream, and scream, one breath caught forever in disharmony with her own, and she cannot grow accustomed to the sound, or tired of it, or even aware of how long they have been screaming.
John, you fool, I would have made you king, she thinks, and thinks, and thinks again, one final point of consciousness crystallized in pain and horror's amber as she falls; she has made him immortal after all, and amidst her breathless, endless scream she almost draws breath to laugh.