A/N: So, I have had an intro, meet the cast, confusion, a Mary Sue, and an attempt at redemption Shawn style. What will I do next? Add some drama of course.
Chapter 7: Early Mornings Can Be Surprising
Later
Shana tossed and turned, trapped in another paralyzing nightmare similar to the one she has almost every other day.
"Please, please... and don't you ever... You dare bring... my house... clean it up!"
Screams and pain, crashed and thuds, and other noises as well.
She rolled over in her restless state and fell out of the bed, jolting awake with a yelp. Laying there, tangled up in her sheets, she shivered, shudders a remaining effect of her nightmares. After a few minutes of gathering her bearings, the psychic picked herself up of the floor and managed to stumble to the bathroom without crumbling into a pitiful heap. When her stomach was emptied and the dry heaves subsided, she splashed water on her face, clearing her muddled mind.
She didn't know what it was or about. Maybe it was a memory or a figment of her imagination, she didn't know. She lent more toward the memory idea, but the fact that she can't figure out what happened is what disturbed her. For Heaven's sake, didn't photographic memory mean anything nowadays.
Instead of mulling over things she couldn't understand, she strolled to the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee. Glancing at the oven clock and sighing, she knew she wasn't going to sleep for the rest of the morning; that's for sure.
It was 2:43.
Carlton glanced away from the glowing red numbers on his bedside clock. What woke him up? His head jerked at the sudden, insistent knocking on his front door. Grabbing the gun out from under his pillow, he sent one more glance toward the clock and flipped the safety off. He swung his legs off and stood as lightening lit the room.
There's a storm brewing and someone is at my door about three in the morning. They better have a really good reason or I might just shoot them, he thought.
The thunder further muffled his almost cat-like footsteps as he stepped lightly, peeking through his door's peephole. A face obscured by long, dark, matted, and soaked hair was ass he could see. Opening the door cautiously, he the detective swung his gun out first before revealing himself partially. It was a woman figure with wild, wet hair and ill-fitting clothing holding a knapsack.
"Who's there? What do you want?" he questioned roughly.
A face poked out from behind the mat of hair and a meek voice was heard.
"C-Carlton?"
He peered closer, studying the hooded face.
"Do I know you?"
A flash of light illuminated her face; a memory of a young, vibrant girl came to mind, replacing his annoyance with worry.
"Nile? Nile Lewis?"
Dull, gray eyes rose to somewhat meet his with an unfocused look.
"Y-yes?"
He shoved the gun, with safety back on, into his waistband and pulled her in by her arm, closing and locking the door behind her. He could feel her shaking and hear her chattering teeth.
"Lady Justice, you must be freezing. Stay here," he ordered not unkindly.
Carlton pulled down a blanket from his hallway closet, draping it over the woman's shoulders when he reached her side. He seated her on his couch.
"Do you want anything? Coffee? Tea?"
Nile glanced up, staring at a random spot on the wall, before looking down once again.
"Tea, please." Her voice was quiet.
He nodded and went to fetch her the hot drink, searching through his cabinets and managing to locate a spare package of mint teabags. While he set one to brew, he fashioned a PB&J sandwich because she looked famished. Holding the plate with the sandwich and a cup of the finished tea, he placed it on the coffee table in front of her. The flinch didn't go unnoticed when he sat down next to her, but he didn't being it to attention. The head detective watched as she polished off the tea and nibbled on the bread, eventually setting it to to rest on the plate. She shivered.
She's wearing wet clothes.
"You're in danger of catching hypothermia if you don't change out of those clothes. Bathroom's down the hall, take a left, and 2nd door on the right. There's clean towels and rags for a shower, if you like." He pursed his lips. "Do you have a extra pair of clothing?"
She nodded slowly, grabbing her bag and shuffling off. When she disappeared from view, he cleaned up, throwing away the barely touched sandwich and washing the cup and plate. He dropped down on the couch, thinking of Nile and what happened to her.
Why is she here, at my house? How did she know where she lived? Did something happen?
Similar thoughts also swam around his mind. His thought pattern ceased as the sound of feet padded toward him. Nile, hair still wet, was now wearing gray pajamas that matched her eyes but still didn't fit well. She looked more like herself than before but he could still see the differences. She was bony, hair was tangled not silky, and bags and dark circles were evident under her eyes. Staring bleary at him, she let him lead her to his bed, get her new sheets, and fell fast asleep. Before leaving the room, he turned the alarm off and grabbed his cell, turning the light off as he left.
New alarm set on his phone, he took the couch instead and went to sleep quickly. His last thought was:
What's going to happen tomorrow?
A/N: Next Up Soon.