versusnurture | fourteen ♢ text & audio & spam

fourteen ♢ text & audio & spam

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[She wakes up screaming at what is, relatively speaking, three in the morning. It's a nightmare, the first really bad one since she died. She tries to remember what it was, what exactly, but it's all a blur; she remembers screaming in the dream, too; she remembers a lure; she remembers blood, lots of blood; she remembers a song. Ein Männlein steht im Walde . . . She remembers not being able to breathe. She remembers her mouth was full.]

[The first few nights, she calls people. She asks for help. After that, she wanders the halls, unable to get back to sleep, unwilling to lie in the dark any longer. Her hair is tied back, a scarf tucked around her shoulders, but her scar still stands out against the pale clamminess of her neck.]

audio } ben

[Night one, she calls Ben. She is crying, her voice muffled (she is using the bear as a pillow, as something with which to dry her tears).]

I'm not hurt. [She has to clarify this first, so he doesn't fear for her, so he doesn't hurt for her. This is how she protects him.] But I need you. Please. If - it's not too late.

audio } blight

[It's instinct to contact him. Maybe it's bad instinct. But it's what she reaches for the second night, once she's calmed herself down enough that she's no longer hyperventilating. Once she feels mostly human again.]

[It's midnight. She sounds as chipper as if it was noon.]

What do you know about brain chemistry?

text, filtered away from hannibal } public, april 7

who has nightmares

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[He doesn't really have insomnia. No bad dreams, not really. It's just that when he woke up, he couldn't get back to sleep. And it's kind of good to know that he can get out of bed and take a walk and do it, like, consciously. And now wake up in his boxers somewhere.

Okay, mostly he just wishes he could get back to sleep.

He's in the middle of a yawn when he spots her. Well - he smells her a few seconds before he spots her. But he doesn't really like to talk about that.]

Hey.

[He gives a sleepy wave.] Can't sleep either?

[Oh. She never knows what to make of him. He's sweet, so sweet she almost believes him, and then catches herself believing him and reprimands herself for a fool. He's not a real kind of person. There's got to be a catch.]

[She looks down at her hands, pale and trembling a little.]

No. Not really.

I didn't think you had trouble sleeping. [He seems so normal. Except for the werewolf thing.]

Not usually, I guess. [He pinches the bridge of his nose, and gets a better look at her. He doesn't like what he sees.]

Hey. [Moving closer, moving slowly, Scott tilts his head.] Are you okay?

[She lifts her shoulders in a tight shrug, lets them fall.]

What do you care?

[It's close enough to being a no. She's shocked at her own honesty.]

I dunno. [He remembers the first time they talked, how much she freaked him out. It's like he's talking to a completely different person, now.]

I just do? [It's the most painfully honest he could possibly be. Scott just cares, even when he says he doesn't.]

[She is defensive in a different way, all of her ordinary defenses cut down by time and pain and the middle of the night. Blinking slowly, she looks down and away, at his feet and not his eyes.]

Nobody here is okay. So it's okay for me not . . . to be okay.

I'm in good company.

Um...okay.

[He's not sure how to parse that. Who doesn't want to be okay? He likes being okay. Scratching the back of his head and ruffling his hair badly in the process, Scott tries again.]

Do you want some? Company, I mean. Like, actual company.

Oh.

[When he puts it like that. Maybe she does.]

Sure. I'm. [She sniffles a little, and doesn't know why.] Not very interesting in the middle of the night.

That's okay. I'm not very interesting most of the time.

[He smiles at his own joke, turns to look up and down the hallway.]

Were you headed anywhere?

[She wants to tell him to shut up, but in a nice way, like she used to tell Marissa when she was being dumb. Instead she just smiles vaguely and shakes her head.]

Just . . . walking around.

[A nod, and he gestures toward the stairs.] Do you wanna see what's in the mess hall to raid?

[Because he could basically eat at any time.]

Uh.

[This is such a normal kid thing to do she doesn't know how to handle it.]

Um, sure. I guess. Sure.

[He starts to say they don't have to if she doesn't want to, but he thinks better of it. She'll say if she doesn't want to, right?]

Okay. My stomach's totally growling. It probably thinks it's breakfast time already.

[She bites her lip to keep from laughing at him. She shouldn't laugh at him, right? That would be rude.]

You need to adjust its clock.

Yeah, probably. Or just give in and like, make eggs and bacon.

[His stomach growls on cue. Eggs and bacon are awesome.]

Only if you make me eggs and bacon too.

I'm like, ninety percent sure I can do that. 85% sure I won't burn them.

Buuuut I don't have a key. Or a kitchen. Maybe in the morning?

Oh.

[She deflates slightly. She could wake up Ben, she thinks, but then thinks better of it - he hasn't been getting enough rest lately as it is.]

So what snacks are you going to get me, then? [Because now he has signed on to getting her snacks and he basically has to, mmkay.]

[He sees her deflate and feels kind of guilty about it, thinks of who they could wake up, and decides that's not fair to whoever they'd pick.]

Sorry, [he says instead, ducking his head apologetically.] But I totally will. Promise.

[Lifting his head a little, he sniffs.]

I think there are grapes. And Cheezits. Do you like Cheezeits?

Um.

[For a second she looks like she's going to say no. She frowns and everything. Very serious. But only because he looks like he might explode if she looks disappointed.]

I love Cheezits.

[She succeeds spectacularly, because his face falls even more as it looks less and less likely that she's up for it. He might explode. He's on the very cusp.]

Oh, good.

[He breathes in relief, shaking his head. He even laughs a little, giving her his crooked-jawed-grin.]

I thought you were going to say you hate them.

[She laughs, not particularly mean-spirited but not all that nice either.]

I know you did.

Come on. [She gives him an imperious look.] You need to find me some.

Oh. [Aaand it clicks. He makes an exaggerated, offended face.]

You seriously had me going there.

[And he can't hold the face, so he smiles, and nods his head toward the kitchen.]

Lucky you I'm like, awesome at sniffing out Cheezits.

[She rolls her eyes and follows him.]

You're awesome at sniffing out everything. You're a werewolf. It's in your job description.

I definitely didn't get a job description with this.

[But he quickens his pace, and reaches for her hand as he does, because he smells more than Cheezits.]

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