![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
The child is a boy, just as Serena told George from the start, small but stubborn as his mother and determined to live.
She names him for his father – the father he's unlikely to ever meet – and gives him her maiden name as his middle. She figures it's the last chance she has for her family's name to live on, long after the rest of them were lost to her.
A week or so after she delivers him she's told she can leave the hospital but he's not ready, yet, and that's a reality she doesn't easily accept. If she were back in North Carolina instead of this strange, forward place, she might have more sway in bringing him back to the apartment that she's been assigned, but neither the doctors nor nurses will hear any of it.
So she leaves the hospital without her son – a day after Mother's Day, of all days – watching him through glass before she heads on. She'll be back in the evening, she tells them, although once she's outside she's not sure where she'll find the strength. She has two scars, now. The one burned in her back and one on her belly, each telling a story of survival against all odds.
Nothing to her name except a few clothes the nurses had given her and an envelope that has cash, a key and the strangest phone she's ever seen, she lingers outside the hospital for a few minutes before asking for help hailing a cab. Someone tells her it's 2017 (a fact she's still struggling to believe) and to use something called an app.
For the first time since she was a young girl, covered in ash, Serena feels totally at a loss.
no subject
Date: 2017-05-09 09:41 am (UTC)She also likes walking around the city, aimless, and with a cup of tea in hand, just taking in the sights. There's something romantic to be said for feeling so small and surrounded by concrete; she'd felt the same way about London.
She's passing the hospital on one of her walks today when she catches sight of a young woman outside of it, looking a bit lost, she thinks.
"Hello," Lily says, having no qualms about walking right up to a stranger who might need help. "Are you alright?"
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2017-05-11 12:46 pm (UTC)Sliding his sunglasses on, he reaches into his pocket for his car keys. Noticing the woman standing nearby, Bryan almost disregards her completely until he does a double take and realizes it's freaking Jennifer Lawrence. Or someone that looks like her, anyway, because he's been in Darrow long enough to know how that whole thing works.
"Hi," he says with a friendly smile after becoming painfully aware that he's maybe stared silently a bit too long to not say something. It's then that he notices the envelope. That, combined with the fact that she looks a bit in over her head, makes him think there's a good chance that she's new. "Sorry, are you... Do you need help finding something?"
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2017-05-16 02:59 pm (UTC)She leaves, but comes back every few days, wondering if she should stop by the train station to pick up Serena's envelope. The same nurse tells her she already has it and Beth somehow manages to show up every time she's sleeping, but eventually, about a week later, she finds herself with a day off and she's determined to actually see her. She brings a sandwich from her favourite shop and some clothes, because she doesn't know what Serena will have when she finally gets to leave.
It's a surprise to find Serena just outside the hospital and Beth hurries over to her, clutching her bags. "I almost missed you," she says breathlessly. "I didn't know how much longer they were gonna keep you."
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From: