donkeyballs | Reverie: IC Inbox

[She pulls back her arm, winding it against her chest, and shakes her head. Her eyes clench shut.]

No. [Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that isn't horrifyingly true. A shudder goes through her body, a couple of sobs that produce no fresh tears.] I feel sick.

[Sick, wretched, afraid, more words that she can't pull up right now. Something is wrong. Something is so wrong. She grips at her arms, biting half-moons into her skin with her nails, as if she can dig all the awfulness out of herself.

This is why she's alone. This is why he made her leave, why she's stuck here, why no one's coming for her. She's so frightened; she's so weak. At once, she regrets calling Alex here for help. He's just one more friend who's going to hate her when this is over.]

Hey. [ His voice is low, and quiet, and gentle, and he holds out both his hands, palms up, though he doesn't take hers. He just holds them there, on offer, as he carefully watches her face. ]

I got no doubt in my mind that you do, trust me. But I want you to try to focus on me for a second, alright? You try focusin' on it, you're just gonna build into the panic, so try to pull away from it, for a minute.

Take my hands?

[ Whether she takes them or not, he continues, his eyes on hers whether she's got them closed or not. ]

First thing to remember is that - it probably ain't you. This place does somethin' to us. To all of us. And it's different every time. To me, to Gunny, to Amos - but we're all still here, yeah? Even through the worst of it. What's happenin' to you right now - what you told me - it shouldn't be possible, right? So my best guess is that it's the station, messin' with you the same way it's been messin' with us.

But that means this ain't permanent. It's gonna pass. You just gotta get through it.

[Clara opens her eyes, but doesn't look at him, instead focusing on his hands. He's making a mistake. He shouldn't be so nice to her; she's the reason they're all trapped, the reason their best hope in this goddamn galaxy isn't coming to their rescue.

She refuses Alex's offer, tightening her hold. How can this pass? How can he think it's that simple? Her heart feels like it's choking her, like it's going to explode, and part of her wishes it just would. She wants it gone. She wants to sleep.

New tears prickle at her eyes, blurring her vision, and she gives a raspy whine of a breath. Her nails draw blood.]

I want it to stop. I don't want to be here.

I know, darlin'. [ The drawl is soft, an honest sympathy lacing it. ]

And we'll get outta here. But I need you to let go of your arms, Clara, you're makin' yourself bleed. You can hold onto the arms of the chair, if you want, alright?

[It takes her a moment, but she finally lets go, leaving red crescents on her forearms. She tries to take a calming breath - does she need it now? - but her chest feels like steel over her straining lungs.]

I’m sorry.

[Sorry for being a wreck, for needing his help, for making such a big deal out of this.]

I didn’t want to wake you up.

You didn't. [ The assurance comes easily, because it's true. ]

And even if I was, I'd rather you woke me up than not. [ He didn't want anyone to go through what happened to him. To struggle and die, exhausted and tortured and alone. He didn't want anyone to be alone, in this place. ]

Can you take a few deep breaths, for me? Real deep, in through your nose, then hold it for a few seconds and let it out real slow again.

[She tries, she really does. She sucks in the breath, as deep as she can with the horrible clench of her diaphragm, and holds it in place. But her racing heart is too much, too fast, and any sense of stability dissolves into a shudder.]

That’s better [, she lies, trying to hold her shoulders up a bit. Blood beads up on her arms, proof of a beating heart. She tries another breath, forcing her chest still this time, so Alex doesn’t see the struggle.] Thanks

[ Alex isn't the hardest man in the world to lie to, but he's not completely gullible. He lets out a low sigh, reaching out to press two fingers to the pulse of her throat, timing as she breathed. ]

Yeah, it's nearly double time, [ He murmured, frowning. ]

Breathin' slow is supposed to bring down your heart rate, but that kind of assumes that heart rate is set by somethin' natural in the first place.

[ Carefully, he rolls up the cuff of his jumpsuit and wipes the blood from Clara's arms. ]

Does it feel the same if you're upright or lyin' down?

[She nods her head, and looks away from the smear of blood.]

I was asleep when it started. [A pause, like she’s trying to hear her own words.] I don’t usually sleep.

Edited 2018-06-30 18:56 (UTC)

[ He let out a hard breath through his nose. ]

Then it can't be a natural thing, right? Hearts just don't work like that, and somethin' must have put you asleep to do it.

[ He raised a hand to rub over his face, pulling at his beard as he tried to reason it out. ]

Alright. Your body's freakin' out on you, that much is obvious, and that probably ain't helpin' how you're feelin' in general, but - [ He met her eyes, his brows raised in sympathy. ]

You're gonna get through it, alright? Why don't you try tellin' me one of your stories - somethin' to get your mind off it?

[She reaches up to wipe her eyes with one fist, trying to force back any errant tears, but it doesn't work. They escape down her wrist, and she swallows hard against any further traitors. The walls of her chest feel like they're closing in, worse than before.]

The Vikings. [God, can't her voice stop shaking?] Ask me about the Vikings.

[ His heart was breaking, watching her and knowing he could do literally nothing to help other than be there. And he wasn't sure that was much help at all, but damn he was going to keep trying. ]

Vikings? You're talkin' like ancient warrior pirates, right? You seriously gonna tell me that you met vikings?

[ He rested his hands on her knees, palms up, if she wanted them. ]

Edited 2018-07-01 00:03 (UTC)

[She doesn’t take his hands, instead clenching her fists close.]

They captured us. Me and my friend. Two days on a longboat.

[ He left them there. ]

You might have to tell me what a boat is like, for me to picture it, [ He admitted quietly. ]

And maybe the ocean, too.

[There's a little noise that might be surprise, or amusement, or a sob.]

It's like... [She brings one hand down from her face, and cups it a bit lengthwise.] Shaped sort of like this. About as long as this room, maybe half as wide.

[Her voice wavers on every other word, and there's strain behind all of them.]

And the ocean... It's like space, it just keeps going, and it's blue.

[ He can hear the strain, and he regrets it - wishes he could offer the easy comfort he'd somehow managed with Gunny - but there was a harder boundary between him and Clara, and trying to force past her comfort wasn't exactly going to make her feel better. So he just kept off on the edge, unsure of how to actually make her feel better. ]

That sounds pretty damn cramped. How much space did you have inside? Couldn't have been more than five feet from floor to ceiling, right?

[ Who knew boats would be open to the sky. ]

Honestly - I find it pretty impossible to imagine. But I'm tryin'.

No ceiling. [A sniff. Her foot taps against the floor, anxious.] It’s just a long thing that floats, and it’s got benches.

[She honestly isn’t sure it’s helping, but at least since she started into the explanation she hasn’t felt the urge to dig her nails into her chest.]

[ He's not sure it's helping either, but he doesn't know what else to do. He thinks about calling Amos, or Bobbie. ]

That sounds - absolutely terrifying and a little deadly.

[ He wets his lips, thinking. ]

You said you were with a friend?

[She nods again, and leans forward onto her elbows, resting her face on her hands. Her mussed hair swings forward, hiding fresh tears.]

My best friend.

[Christ, but the urge to hug her was intense. ]

The one who went four billion years?

Yeah.

[The one she let down. The one she ruined.]

This was before that. When I was still alive.

[And everything was normal, and nothing was ending.]

[ God, he is just doing an amazing job at the topic choices, isn't he. ]

And you two were on a boat, with Vikings, open to the sky.

[ Even with her description, he literally could not imagine in. ]

Yeah. It was beautiful.

[Aside from the spears at their backs, though she wasn't too worried about that part. They always managed to get out of their jams, after all.

Until she had to go and screw them both over.]

Listen, Alex- [She takes as deep a breath as she can, looking up at him.] Thanks for this. I feel a lot better.

[See, she's even almost smiling a little. Almost]

Might try to get some sleep, though, see if that helps.

[ He's not helping. He can tell he's not helping, and he feels guilty for it - but that doesn't mean he's entirely out of options. ]

Alrigh'. [ He wants to give her a hug, again. But he doesn't. He just awkwardly stands up straight again. ]

Try an' rest, if you can't. Lemme know if you need anythin', alright?

[She nods. Her vision swims.]

I will. Thank you.

(no subject)

donkeyballs - 2018-07-10 01:55 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

oddbod - 2018-07-10 01:59 (UTC) - Expand