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Common Ground
Nothing was going to help. Not talking to Bobby, not talking to Hank or Diana. Not even Presto and the tricks from the Hat could help the cold and lost feeling Sheila had inside her.
They were never going to get home. That fact had never been as clear to her before as it had been today.
The incident itself was so small, and so stupid and so entirely unimportant. It was just a conversation, that was all. She hadn’t even been part of it, she had just been listening in silence, trying to comb Uni’s mane with a half-broken comb.
Hank’s voice had been confident while he talked and she had enjoyed listening to him tell the group about their next move.
Then there had been a nearly imperceptible pause before he’s said it: So when we get home.
She shivered at the memory. So when we get home… she had blocked out the rest of Hank’s sentence, her heart had given a terrible lurch. And she knew it was never going to happen. It was a dream, just a stupid fantasy.
They were never going to get home.
Moments later, she had looked around at where they were and it had struck her that she hated the Realm. She hated the ground as a bed, and the nuts and berries they had for breakfast, lunch and dinner. She hated the multicoloured sky, and the weird grasses and flowers and trees. She hated Venger for continuing to dog their footsteps. She hated Dungeonmaster for building up the false hope, time after time. She hated the others for looking to her to look after them and turning to her when they needed someone to talk to. She hated everything.
She hadn’t stormed off, or anything melodramatic like that. Instead she had waited, she had pretended to be Sheila for a little bit longer. Then while everyone else was preoccupied with something else, she had risen to her feet and started to walk, and she’d walked and walked and kept on walking until she couldn’t hear anything around her.
Numb and broken inside, she had sat down by a small stream and stared at the sparkling water. She sat there and stared for who knows how long, not wanting to move.
A while later, Eric ambled along the path she had walked up. Part of Sheila wanted to be surprised, but she wasn’t.
He made no secret of his approach, she could see him coming a mile away, the yellow of his Shield and armour was never easy to miss. But the fact that he must have followed her was disconcerting. Sheila had always prided herself of being able to melt into the shadows when she had to. That obviously hadn’t been good enough today to fool Eric!
Out of breath, he sat down close to her. She said nothing, content with his unusually silent company.
There was never any reason to pretend with Eric. He knew. How ironic was it that he was the one person who could understand how she felt today. He hated the Realm with a passion that nothing else could match. Sure, he hid the real force of his feelings when the others were around; he had always been good at hiding his emotions. But she had always understood that it was a façade.
She knew him, she knew him better than anyone else knew him. She had been the one to see him crying with rage and fear when no one else had thought to look; she was the one to see him shake with the effort of controlling his emotions every time a portal went up in flames. She saw it in his eyes every time Dungeonmaster appeared, or Venger, or any of the other crazy creatures that hunted them.
So if anyone could understand how she felt just now, it was Eric. She didn’t have to pretend with him in the way she had to with the others.
‘You gonna be ok?’ he asked eventually.
‘I guess so,’ she replied. ‘I… I don’t know.’
He accepted her answer with a nod.
‘Anything I can do to help?’
The question made the waves of anger swell again, but there was something else as well. How often had she asked someone else that in the past? But there was not attempt to gloss over her distress, it was there, it was hers and he made no attempt to take it away.
‘I could buy you a pizza?’ Eric suggested.
Sheila looked at him in sudden amazement, a tiny smile on her lips.
‘Are you suggesting that we go on a date?’
That interpretation clearly hadn’t occurred to him, and he turned red and started to splutter something about going with the others too.
The tiny smile grew slightly bigger.
Eric smiled back at her.
‘We could go see what the Hat can offer as a substitute,’ he said. ‘Presto’ll be happy to make it produce useless junk all night!’
Again, the image made her smile grow again.
He understood. He knew there was nothing that was gonna cure the anger and the fear and the overwhelming homesickness. There was nothing they could do but keep going and hope.
And that was the hardest part of all, but if he could do it, then so could she.
Slowly, she nodded. Together they stood and started the long walk back to the camp.
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Fanfiction Masterlist
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