Ysbet by planet p

Disclaimer I don't own Wallander or any of its characters.

Usually, she's got it all so well under wraps; at least, she knows, that's how it must seen to eyes looking in. Look in on me and you'll see someone who think she gets it; she gets that violence happens, and all we can do is clean up after it, try to curb it by putting someone, usually, the baddie away.

She personally doesn't go for this Pin it to a scapegoat if you've nothing else nonsense, but she gets that, too, which is pretty bloody sad to say.

She tempers her affection by telling herself she can't stop it, she's no one to stop it, and she'd never be able to do a thing about world violence. Time, and the sight of several nasty things has tempered her, too.

She can let it slide by her, if she wants, and, mostly, it does, whether she wants it or not, anymore. To her, that's one of the particularly sad parts; that's the part that always gets to her and sets off the figurative alarm bulb or light, and she thinks, Ah, yes.

The part, she knows, that goes beyond a person snapping; the part where a person is just too damaged to see the world in a light which isn't off-skew, and it scares the bloody Hell out of her to think that she might be that damaged.

People that damaged don't cope, they do. They don't see or take in; what comes to them comes to them, what they do with it, they do with it. That scares her, a lot.

She's not like that, she tells herself. She can deal. But she can't help wondering, Would I know if I couldn't, would I still be able to see the world at just the right tilt to still see that I was floundering and getting nowhere for it, would I see myself failing and get help? Could I be able to go out and look for support?

She likes to imagine one of her co-workers on the team would see something, and that they'd hint at it to her, or plain come out with it, or maybe they'd suggest it to Wallander, and he'd have a chat with her. Coming from him, she would try hard to understand. It's not a thing she has a choice in, it's a thing she does and she can't stop it. It's not often that she's gladdened for it, but, in the moments when she worries most, she is. She's so glad for it.

She can't help wondering how he does it, who he has to keep him company through the darkness. She really can't help that, either.

I've no idea where I got the title; it doesn't seem to mean anything. Thanks for reading.