versusnurture | 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 watches her hands, and feels sick. He swallows it back, wets his lips.]

Why did you kill him?

Because . . .

[Oh, it's so complicated. Reasons on reasons in reasons, knots and twists and turns, she doesn't understand. Her brow furrows.]

I was remembering. I was scared and I was remembering.

What...[He's not sure he wants to know. He could walk away and just. Not ask ever. But he can't, really, so he stays and rubs the back of his head.]

What were you remembering?

[Her voice is ice cold, but she is smiling.]

My daddy.

[It's a frightening combination, and he shifts his weight. He's not scared of her, not exactly - but he's a little afraid of what she might be capable of.]

Did you....did you kill him too?

No.

[She looks at Scott with big eyes, wide eyes, scared eyes.]

He tried to kill me. Why would I try to kill my father?

Jeez, Abigail.

[He takes a step back like he's staggering, like he just can't fathom the world she comes from. He can't.]

I don't - I don't know what to say.

[Oddly, his inability to answer makes her believe in him more than she ever has before. Heroes don't have answers. That's what she believes. If he had known what to say, she would have believed him to be a liar.]

What makes you think there's anything to say? It happened. I survived. And then I didn't. And now I'm here. Nothing you say can change that.

[He doesn't know how she can be so calm about it. He doesn't get how she can just say these things. He takes a step forward and hesitates.]

You're right, it can't, I just - I dunno.

Can I give you a hug?

[She's sad. She doesn't know why, all of a sudden, she's sad. It's not as though any of this is new. But there's something itching at the back of her throat, like she feels before she starts to cry.]

Are you going to hurt me?

No, God - no. [His face says everything. How awful the idea of hurting her is, how awful the idea that anyone would use a hug as a ruse for hurting her is. How awful all of this is.]

Then.

[She reaches for his hand and gets his wrist instead, tugging him forward clumsily, gently.]

Then you can, I guess. If you want to. If you promise not to hurt me.

[He lets her pull him forward. Scott is the sort of person to trust other people: he believes what he's told, because why does anyone really have a reason to lie? Maybe it makes him gullible, but he'd rather just be honest. It doesn't even occur to him that he could be stepping into a knife as he wraps his arms around her, gentle, careful. Even if it did occur to him, it probably wouldn't stop him.]

I promise. I promise I'll never hurt you.

[Lots of people promise that, she wants to tell him; but for some reason, she doesn't. Instead she rests her tired head against his shoulder, and she doesn't cry, but sort of wants to.]

Okay, Scott. I believe you.

[It's a lie. But she wraps her arms around him anyway.]

[He thinks it might be a lie, he thinks he hears her heart do something different, but that doesn't matter. She's letting him hug her, she's hugging him back, and for right now, at least, that has to be enough. He holds her tight (but carefully not too tight), and lets his head rest against hers.

He thinks she could use a friend.]

fourteen ♢ text & audio & spam

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